#if she likes you be prepared for her to call you lamp post | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satoruhour · 2 years ago

Note

hello :) may i ask a husband nanami headcanons? your so talented!

a/n: ty anon !!! i hope u like this :3

warnings: (in second half of post) pregnancy kink? breeding / creampie kink ofc, consensual somnophilia, praise, pet names

i. sfw headcanons

nanami is so sweet when he first proposes to you! ofc you have sex on the daily or weekly but when he’s reading his speech to you when he’s kneeling down it’s so sweet that you cry

and this dude wonders why you’re tearing up when his words literally mirror a poet’s LMFAO

nanami proposes at a quiet place only the two of you frequent, to avoid unwanted attention like crowds (he’s just thinking about gojo and how annoying he would be)

but also because he just wants it to be as special as he can make it out to be

honestly, if the whole kuantan thing works out he would love to propose there while the waves and horizon set the scene naturally. like he already knew he wanted to retire from being a jujutsu sorcerer here but he just melts when you’re here too. everything wrapped up in one, and the tear-filled “yes!!!” makes him jump and warms his heart

has a dinner laid out for you and everything and if the beach is deserted he wouldn’t mind having u right there LOL hes quiet but freaky just sayin’ !!!

when you walk down the aisle he cries. really

and is now obsessed with how he can call you ”his wife” as opposed to “his girl”

okay but now on to the domesticity. the dynamics are almost the same: he isn’t against you heading out to earn your own money, and he’s more than happy to be a stay-at-home husband if you want him to, but seeing you in your cute apron has him already thinking of family and how you would bounce the baby on your arm as you prepare dinner

nanami is more doting when he’s your husband, not that he wasn’t before, but he thinks it’s the old age when he sees your leg cramp and he massages it or when you squint at your book so he turns up your lamp to a higher setting

also likes to flaunt off his wedding ring, albeit with flushed cheeks. he does it when he drinks tea, sliding gojo his paper work, polishing his weapon and it’s silent, laidback bragging and only gets annoyed when gojo asks about it

if anyone else does it he’s happy to talk about you lol

is a lot more slack when it comes to his salary and treating you to things, saying things like “oh, it’s okay, my pretty wife deserves this”

nanami does his part of the housework now that you’re permanently living together and pulls his weight — buying cleaning supplies, folding the laundry, buying food for the dog

he doesn’t care much about gender roles and is willing to show you that a good husband shouldn’t just be a milestone to complete and then immediately refuses to participate in household work

deadbeat husbands = boooooo

for now you’re still busy as jujutsu sorcerers, but after a year or two of being married he’s trying to convince you to take less missions, partially because he’s afraid of curses taking advantage of your relationship (not that they didnt before, but now they have a leverage against you) and marriage to hold either of you hostage

but the main reason for the persuasion is because he wanted a kid. and you step back in shock because nanami kento? wanting a kid? it seemed so out of character for him but considering how much he liked to come in you… was already pretty telling

like he loved the dog but also wanted like. biological kids. it was wild, he knows, even when you tell gojo (he’s still a little mad that you did, but it was an accident), even the six-eyes user was pretty surprised.

when the kid comes he’s just. crying again. he really loves you so much, and the fact that you carried a baby for nine months and was in pain for 12 hours and then pushed a whole ass baby out ur vagina? goddamn

you two name her nanami kumiko and he holds her like she’s the only one in the world (besides you), cooing gently as how the baby seem to snuggle into his warmth

he gives her a danish name too: ida, but he’s not sure if he should include it in the birth certificate, so he didn’t

he is very protective of his girl, especially how you techniques seemed to be passed down and how the jujutsu society might be seeking out your offspring in kuantan, but he makes sure no one comes close to the two of you, even asking gojo reluctantly to monitor any news of the higher-ups looking to ruin her childhood

nanami really thinks it’s age now, because he find it so hard to say no to your baby girl whenever she asks for something — whether non-verbal or verbal

is a calm dad, usually burping the baby after you feed her, changing her diapers, etc., even suggesting bonding by holding her close with skin-to-skin contact and you're surprised he even knows about that

you give in when you see that he does it anyway, rocking the baby softly on the balcony with his top off, already knowing she’s going to be a daddy’s girl when she grows up

spoils his daughter but still disciplines her when it’s necessary, but he reverts to gentle parenting when he needs to. learns how to tie hair because of her, teaches her about manners and consent and tells her he has no problem if she decides to punch a guy one day. she’s just confused lol, why would i need to do that, dad?

bless him, she got your kind disposition, but yeah he emphasises that she should stand up for herself if needed

during pregnancy, he’s also making sure you never lift a finger, running across the house to complete errands, going out to buy your cravings and regulating your diet. it’s pretty cute but nanami is sometimes really strict about what you eat because he doesn’t want your health to decline lol

“just one cup of coffee… please?”

nanami only grunts in disapproval, hoping a peck to your forehead can wake you up, ”no.”

okay but that’s a lot, i have a lot of Thoughts

now….

ii. nsfw headcanons

building on that hc earlier abt going from calling you ”his girl” to ”his wife”, he uses it so much in the bedroom you’d think it was a fetish

and you kinda understand it, there’s the jump of your heart when he introduces you as “his wife” compared to a mere girlfriend

honest to god, coming home that day and seeing you cook wasn’t the first time he’s thought of having a kid. it’s happened many times before, seeing you interact with the first-years, guiding a first-grader home after a mission

and sure he’s done it before, but you’re always on the pill and he has really really thought of getting a vasectomy, but then he thinks of how cute you’d look with a round belly, carrying his baby and that glow that he knows he’s the reason for

so the day he proposes to you, he fucks you like an animal, cumming deep in you with choked groans and fills you up.

wedding night? same thing

but what really got him going was after he told you about wanting a kid, and you begging with those eyes of yours is what drove that string to snap. “i w-want you— shit— to fuck a baby into me, kento!”

wheew and he goes insane. nanami loves it when you beg for his cum, legs locked around his body to get him to do it. you’re relentless too, spreading your folds for him as his cum seeps out slowly and soon he’s fucking his cum deep into you again, filling you up two, three, four times

and he doesn’t exactly care if that time doesn’t work because now he knows you aren’t taking contraception so he just does it regularly for good measure.

you aren’t complaining because you’ve never seen nanami so feral when he’s pushing his cum deep into you, whether it’s with his cock or with his fingers. that period before your pregnancy was so fulfilling that you wouldn’t mind pushing out another baby for your husband, if it meant getting railed by a man on a mission to make you a mommy

by god he fucks you on every surface of the house

when you’re pregnant too, you can’t help but get wet bc of your hormones and sometimes comes home from work, tired and needing some relief

he finds relief between your legs when you’re sleeping, talking about how nice it was to get used while sleeping, but you didn’t expect nanami to utilise it while you’re pregnant. you wince and groan as you sit up, but you need to see your husband lapping at your cunt immediately, moaning into your core like a starved man

but ofc nanami is a lot gentler when you’re pregnant. he offers to do the work, thrusts gentler and less impactful, but he still feels so good

a few years after marriage, sex is still an ongoing thing, but it’s converted more into love-making and lazy intercourse because you weren’t exactly young. sure you both would go crazy a few times a week but it was difficult with a maturing kid in the room next to yours.

you both would also take the time to discover other kinks!!! always busy, it was a difficult thing to do, but in between taking care of kumiko and handling lighter missions, you’d find new ways to continue keeping your love and sex life exciting

nanami liked going slow with you too though whispering into your ears endless praises of how you were doing do well, settling into missionary so he could see how his thrusts still had the same effect it did on you years ago

“doing so well, sweetheart. that’s it… my pretty wife’s such a good girl f’r me.”

nanami wasn’t against a second child, but sometimes he sees how much you go through in labour and in pregnancy that he becomes lightheaded with what could happen to you, especially with the unexpected illnesses that come with pregnancies. he told himself he would only grant you another if you ask for it

but then one day when kumiko prances up to you in the midst of her math homework, asking when she would get a little sibling and youre taken aback while nanami just chokes on his tea

yeah, sure, you taught her sex education way before her peers and how babies are made but you didn’t expect to actually ask the two of you straight up about having a sister or brother

that night, you mulled over the decision, and nanami mumbles into your neck from the back, ”don’t worry about kumiko, baby. she’ll probably forget it sooner or later.”

“but what if i want to give her one though?” you mumble, your smaller hand guiding his lower and lower…

“do you want to?” nanami only can suck in a breath when he feels your throbbing cunt, your nimble fingers showing his how you liked your clit to be rubbed. even if he knows you inside out he still lets you do it, “i do… do you, kento?”

his first name is whispered, breaking the tension and nanami has to hold himself back from handling you too roughly, loving the way you grin languidly.

oh, here comes round 2!

omg headcanons are so fun lol i never wrote 1k words so fast since they’re informal and chill

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w1w2 · 1 month ago

Text

A Holiday to Remember

Huh Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 3,5k

Synopsis: In the magical glow of a snow-covered holiday town, Y/N and Yunjin prepare for their first Christmas together.

Note: Have a great Christmas babes! Thank you so much for your support and kindness, it truly means the world to me. 🥹 I hope you enjoy this magical time, surrounded by love, laughter, and all the things that make your heart happy.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The small town looked like it had been plucked straight from a Christmas card. A fresh blanket of snow sparkled under the glow of twinkling fairy lights strung between lamp posts, their warm yellow hue casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets. Storefronts were decked out in holiday displays: miniature Christmas villages, red and gold ornaments, and faux snow glimmering in the soft light. The faint aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted from a nearby bakery, mingling with the brisk, frosty air. Somewhere down the street, a group of carolers harmonized to the gentle melody of Silent Night, their voices as soothing as a crackling fire.

Y/N strolled through the bustling town square, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. The energy of the holiday season buzzed all around her, but her mind was focused on one thing or rather, one person.

“This is going to be the most special Christmas ever” she thought, her heart fluttering at the thought of Yunjin. It was their first holiday season as a couple, and every little detail felt significant. Y/N had spent weeks daydreaming about the perfect way to celebrate, imagining cozy nights by the fire and stolen kisses under the mistletoe. But today, her mission was clear: finding the perfect gift for Yunjin.

As she weaved through the cheerful crowd, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. This town had always felt magical during the holidays, but this year, it was different. Everything seemed brighter, warmer because she had someone special to share it with. She paused by a street vendor selling handcrafted ornaments, her gaze drawn to a delicate angel carved from wood.

“Would she like this?” Y/N muttered to herself, tilting her head as she examined the tiny figure. But then she remembered something Yunjin had said in passing a few weeks ago I love gifts that come from the heart. They don’t have to be expensive, just thoughtful.

The memory sparked a mix of excitement and nervousness in Y/N. It was sweet of Yunjin to care more about the meaning behind a gift than its price tag, but it also meant the stakes felt impossibly high. She wanted her gift to be perfect, something that would show Yunjin how much she truly meant to her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a child’s laughter as a snowball fight broke out nearby. Y/N chuckled, the sound lifting her spirits. She adjusted her coat and decided to keep looking. Somewhere in this picturesque little town was the perfect present.

“Alright, Yunjin,” she whispered with determination, “you’re getting a Christmas gift you’ll never forget.”

With that, Y/N set off down the street, determination settling in her chest like a warm ember. The twinkling holiday lights above her seemed to cheer her on as she made her way toward her next destination. She’d heard about the bustling holiday market in town, a place filled with unique treasures that might hold the perfect gift for Yunjin.

The gentle hum of Christmas carols grew louder as she approached, and soon, the vibrant scene came into view.

Y/N pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped into the heart of the holiday market. The place was buzzing with life, vendors calling out to advertise their goods, couples strolling hand-in-hand, and kids gleefully tugging their parents toward colorful stalls.

Each booth was a treasure trove of unique, handcrafted items: delicate glass ornaments, cozy knitted scarves, wooden toys, and candles in every imaginable scent.

Her eyes flitted from stall to stall, her thoughts consumed by one question What would Yunjin love the most?

She stopped at a booth displaying an array of intricate ornaments. One in particular caught her eye, a frosted glass globe painted with a snowy forest scene. It was stunning, and she reached out to pick it up carefully. Or at least, she tried.

The ornament slipped from her fingers and tumbled toward the ground. “Oh no!” Y/N yelped, her heart skipping a beat. She winced as the glass shattered into tiny pieces at her feet.

The vendor, a kind-faced older woman, waved it off with a warm smile. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It’s just a sign that you’re meant to find something even better.”

Y/N let out a relieved laugh, crouching down to help clean up the mess. “I’m so sorry. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” the woman said, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Take your time. It’s not about the first thing you see, it’s about the one that feels right.”

Thanking the vendor, Y/N moved on, her cheeks still pink from embarrassment. She turned a corner and found herself at a quieter stall selling antique trinkets. Her gaze landed on a small music box nestled among the clutter. She picked it up and wound the key, and as the melody played, her heart swelled.

It was their song, the one Yunjin had sung softly to her on a late-night walk months ago, when they’d first started falling for each other. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the tune wash over her.

“This could be it,” she murmured. But doubt crept in as quickly as the excitement. "Is it too simple? Too small?" She hesitated, unsure if the music box alone would be enough to express how much Yunjin meant to her.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to a familiar number. “Sakura Unnie” Y/N said as soon as the call connected. “I need your help.”

Sakura’s teasing laugh rang out on the other end. “This is about Yunjin, isn’t it? You sound lovestruck.”

Y/N groaned. “I’m serious! I found something, but I’m not sure if it’s the right gift. I mean, it’s cute and meaningful, but what if—”

“Y/N,” Sakura interrupted, her tone affectionate. “You’re overthinking this. Yunjin loves you, and she’s going to love whatever you pick as long as it’s from the heart. Just go with your gut.”

Y/N sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re right. Thanks, Unnie.”

“Of course I’m right. Now stop panicking and focus on making her happy,” Sakura said, and Y/N could hear the grin in her voice.

Ending the call, Y/N felt her determination solidify. She decided to buy the music box, tucking it safely into her bag before heading to her next stop. The cool evening air nipped at her cheeks as she walked down the festive street, her thoughts racing ahead to where she might find something else that would speak to Yunjin’s heart.

She passed a row of brightly lit shops until her eyes landed on a boutique with a chic display of accessories in the window. A glimmer of inspiration struck her, and she pushed open the door, a small bell jingling softly overhead.

The boutique’s interior was sleek and modern, with soft jazz playing in the background and rows of beautifully displayed accessories. Y/N wandered through the aisles, her eyes drawn to a delicate gold necklace with a charm shaped like a star. It was elegant, timeless, perfect for Yunjin’s sophisticated side.

But then, she spotted something equally tempting: a pair of quirky earrings shaped like tiny microphones. They were playful and fun, just like Yunjin’s sense of humor.

Y/N stood frozen, holding one in each hand. “Why is this so hard?” she muttered, biting her lip.

“Having trouble deciding?” a friendly voice asked. The shopkeeper, a stylish woman with a sharp eye for detail, smiled knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N admitted. “I want to get my girlfriend something special, but I can’t pick between these two.”

The shopkeeper chuckled. “Let me tell you a secret. The best gifts aren’t about how they look, they’re about what they mean. Think about what each piece says about her and your relationship. Which one speaks to you?”

Y/N stared at the necklace and earrings for a long moment before the answer became clear. She smiled, thanking the shopkeeper as she made her choice. With her purchase carefully tucked into her bag alongside the music box, she stepped back out into the chilly air.

The streets were quieter now, the golden glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground. She checked her list one last time, a new idea forming in her mind as she recalled a little craft store she’d passed earlier.

By the time Y/N reached the craft store, the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, casting the snow-covered town in shades of orange and pink. Inside, the store was a riot of colors, bins of beads, shelves of glitter, and racks of paints lined the walls.

Inspired by the shopkeeper’s advice, Y/N decided to make part of Yunjin’s gift herself. She picked out supplies for a small photo frame: pastel paints, a handful of tiny star-shaped beads, and a glittery gold ribbon for finishing touches.

As she paid for her items, Y/N could already picture how it would look: a simple, heartfelt frame to hold a photo of one of their favorite moments together.

Back at home that evening, after Yunjin had returned to her dorms, Y/N spread her supplies across the kitchen table. It was her turn to pour her heart into something special. As she painted and glued, she accidentally spilled an entire tube of glitter across the floor.

“Oh no!” she laughed, watching the sparkly mess spread with every movement. Her laughter turned into a full-blown giggle fit when she realized the glitter had gotten into her hair, shimmering under the soft light.

By the time she finished, her fingers were sticky with glue, and the photo frame sparkled under the light. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers and she couldn’t wait to see Yunjin’s reaction. With a contented sigh, Y/N carefully set the frame aside to dry and glanced at the clock. She still had a few more stops to make before the day was over.

Next day while Y/N was out putting the final touches with her gift, back at her apartment, Yunjin had been busy with her own preparations.

The soft glow of fairy lights bathed Y/N’s living room in a warm, golden hue. A freshly decorated Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, adorned with delicate ornaments and shimmering tinsel. Yunjin stepped back to admire her handiwork, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. She had insisted on decorating the tree herself, wanting everything to be perfect for their first Christmas together.

Yunjin had perched on the couch in Y/N’s apartment, letting out a content sigh as she surveyed her handiwork. The Christmas tree twinkled softly in the corner, the fairy lights casting a golden glow over the room. Cozy blankets were draped over the couch, and she had even set out mugs for hot cocoa to complete the scene.

Every detail was wrapped in anticipation of seeing Y/N’s face light up later that evening. Her gaze drifted to the small pile of wrapped gifts under the tree, and her chest tightened. Among the presents was her main gift: a hand-written song.

The idea had come to her weeks ago, during a sleepless night at the dorms. Writing it had been cathartic, every note and lyric spilling straight from her heart. But as she sat there in the quiet warmth of Y/N’s apartment, doubt began to creep in.

What if it’s not enough?

Yunjin ran her fingers through her hair, her mind replaying moments from the past year. She thought back to a chilly evening in spring, when they’d walked by the river after a particularly grueling day. Y/N had noticed her quietness right away, wrapping her arm around Yunjin and insisting they take a detour to get hot chocolate.

“You don’t have to pretend everything’s okay,” Y/N had said softly, her warmth cutting through the chill.

Yunjin had opened up that night in a way she rarely did with anyone, and Y/N had listened,truly listened without judgment or interruption. It was one of the many moments that had made Yunjin realize she’d found something extraordinary in Y/N.

How do you put all of that into a gift?

The memory lingered as Yunjin reached for her guitar, which she had brought along to finalize her song. Her fingers brushed over the strings as she hummed the melody, letting the words come naturally

"In the glow of your smile, I find my peace,

Every moment with you feels like a masterpiece.

Through the highs and the lows, the laughter, the tears,

You’re my constant, my comfort, my reason to cheer."

Her voice faltered, and she frowned. Is this enough to show her how much she means to me?

Yunjin leaned back, the guitar resting on her lap. She thought about adding something else to the song, a special touch to make it feel even more personal. Maybe a custom necklace with their initials? Or a small charm that symbolized something only they would understand.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody play in her head again. The lyrics weren’t perfect, but they were hers. Every word carried the weight of her feelings for Y/N, and deep down, Yunjin knew that was what mattered most.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. It was Y/N’s neighbor, stopping by to drop off cookies they’d baked for the holiday. Yunjin thanked them with a polite smile, tucking the tin away on the kitchen counter. As she returned to the couch, her mind drifted back to the song, her fingers instinctively strumming the chords again.

She pictured the way Y/N’s eyes would light up when she heard the first notes, the way her hands would clasp over her heart as the lyrics unfolded. The thought made Yunjin’s lips curl into a soft, almost shy smile.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “This is going to be perfect.”

With her resolve firmed, Yunjin placed the guitar back in its stand and got to work. She rewrapped one of the smaller gifts, adding a bow for extra flair. She adjusted the fairy lights to ensure they cast the most romantic glow. Every little detail, every touch, was for Y/N.

As the evening deepened, Yunjin curled up on the couch, her heart fluttering with equal parts excitement and nervousness. This Christmas wasn’t about extravagant gestures or lavish presents, it was about the love and connection they’d built together.

And as far as Yunjin was concerned, there was no greater gift than that.

The evening air was crisp as Y/N climbed the steps to her apartment, her bag tucked under one arm and her breath visible in the icy cold. From outside the door, she could already see the soft glow of fairy lights spilling through the windows, casting a warm and inviting light into the winter night. Her heart raced, not just from the cold but from anticipation.

She fumbled with her keys, and as she opened the door, the sight inside made her breath catch.

The living room was nothing short of magical. The Christmas tree stood tall, its ornaments glittering in the light of the fairy strings that wrapped around it. Cozy blankets were draped over the couch, and candles flickered gently on the coffee table, filling the room with the comforting scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Yunjin stood in the center of it all, a wide smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of Y/N.

“Welcome home,” Yunjin said, her voice warm and tender. She crossed the room in a few quick strides and pulled Y/N into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around her as though she’d waited all day for this moment.

Y/N melted into the embrace, her nerves and the stress of the day evaporating instantly. “You’ve outdone yourself,” she murmured against Yunjin’s shoulder.

Yunjin pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her eyes twinkling like the lights around them. “It’s our first Christmas together. I wanted it to be special.”

“It already is,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Yunjin took her hand and led her to the couch. They sat down, their knees brushing as Y/N set her bag beside her. The room felt like their own little world, safe and warm, insulated from the chilly night outside.

“I have something for you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but excited. She reached into her bag and pulled out two carefully wrapped items: the handmade photo frame and the music box.

Yunjin’s eyes widened as she accepted the gifts, her fingers brushing over the wrapping paper. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, but her tone betrayed her eagerness to see what was inside.

“Open them,” Y/N urged, biting her lip nervously.

Yunjin unwrapped the photo frame first. She gasped softly when she saw it, a small but beautifully decorated frame that sparkled with tiny star-shaped beads and gold accents. Inside was a photo of the two of them from a day they’d spent at the park, their laughter frozen in time.

“Y/N,” Yunjin said, her voice trembling slightly. “This is... it’s perfect.”

Y/N smiled, her cheeks glowing pink. “I wanted you to have something personal, something that reminds you of us.”

Yunjin placed the frame carefully on the coffee table before unwrapping the music box. The familiar melody filled the room as she turned the key, and her expression softened even more.

“This song,” Yunjin said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s our song.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with affection. “I heard it and immediately thought of you. I couldn’t resist.”

Yunjin set the music box down and reached for Y/N’s hands, her grip gentle but firm. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said, her eyes glistening. “Thank you.”

Y/N was about to respond when Yunjin stood abruptly. “Wait. I have something for you too.”

She disappeared briefly into the bedroom and returned with her guitar slung over her shoulder. Sitting back down, she looked at Y/N, her expression a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

“I wrote you a song,” Yunjin said shyly, her fingers lightly brushing the guitar strings. “It’s not perfect, but it’s... it’s everything I feel for you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunjin began to play. The melody was soft and sweet, wrapping around them like a blanket. Yunjin’s voice was steady but emotional, every note carrying the depth of her feelings.

As the song went on, Y/N felt her eyes sting with tears. The lyrics told their story. The quiet moments they’d shared, the ways they’d lifted each other up, and the undeniable love that had grown between them.

When the final chord faded into the air, Yunjin looked up, her cheeks flushed. “So... what do you think?”

Y/N couldn’t find the words. Instead, she leaned forward and cupped Yunjin’s face in her hands, pulling her into a kiss. It was slow and tender, a silent answer to the question Yunjin had asked.

When they pulled back, Y/N rested her forehead against Yunjin’s. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

Yunjin grinned, her confidence returning as she wrapped her arms around Y/N. “I’m glad you like it,” she said softly. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, Jen” Y/N replied, her heart feeling impossibly full.

The two of them stayed curled up on the couch, their gifts sitting nearby as silent witnesses to the love they shared. The night stretched on, filled with quiet laughter, whispered words, and a sense of peace neither of them had ever known before.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, it was clear that this Christmas Eve would be one they’d remember forever.

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, creating a serene winter wonderland outside. Y/N stirred awake, snuggled beneath the warm blankets. The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet wafted through the air, pulling her from the haze of sleep.

She turned her head and smiled at the sight of Yunjin sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a steaming mug. Yunjin was still in her pajamas, a cozy set of red flannel and her hair was slightly mussed from sleep.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Yunjin said, her voice soft and teasing. She handed Y/N the mug, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Good morning,” Y/N mumbled, sitting up and wrapping her hands around the warm cup. She took a sip, humming in delight. “Coffee and kisses first thing? I could get used to this.”

Yunjin laughed and pulled Y/N to her feet. “Come on, I made breakfast. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

The two of them made their way to the kitchen, where the table was set with stacks of fluffy pancakes, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a small pitcher of syrup. They sat across from each other, sharing bites and stealing glances, the kind of quiet intimacy that only mornings like this could bring.

After breakfast, they bundled up in coats and scarves, ready to brave the snowy outdoors. The fresh snow crunched beneath their boots as they stepped outside, the cold air biting at their cheeks.

Yunjin bent down to scoop up a handful of snow, forming it into a ball with practiced precision. “You better run,” she warned playfully, her grin wide and mischievous.

Y/N yelped, ducking behind a tree just as the snowball whizzed past her. “Oh, it’s on!” she shouted, grabbing her own handful of snow and launching it toward Yunjin.

The quiet street filled with laughter as they chased each other through the snow, their cheeks pink from the cold and the effort. At one point, Yunjin caught Y/N off-guard, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

“No fair,” Y/N panted, giggling as she tried to catch her breath.

“All’s fair in love and snowball fights,” Yunjin teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on Y/N’s frostbitten nose.

They ended their snowy escapade by building a tiny snowman together, decorating it with pebbles for eyes and a twig for a smile. Y/N pulled out her phone, and they snapped a series of selfies, some cute, some silly to commemorate the morning.

Back inside, they warmed up with mugs of hot cocoa, their legs tangled together under a shared blanket on the couch. The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly in the background, casting the room in a golden glow.

Y/N rested her head on Yunjin’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “This Christmas has been perfect.”

Yunjin kissed the top of her head, her voice quiet but firm. “It’s not the gifts or the snow or the decorations. It’s you. You make it perfect.”

Y/N tilted her head up, meeting Yunjin’s gaze with a tender smile. “And you make me feel like the luckiest person in the world.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside. This Christmas wasn’t about the gifts they’d exchanged or the moments they’d captured in photos, it was about the love they’d shared, the memories they’d created, and the promise of many more holidays to come.

As the day stretched on, they stayed wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the simple, beautiful magic of being together.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #kpop x reader #huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #gg x reader #huh yunjin x fem reader

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liaromancewriter · 3 months ago

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Child’s Play – Part 2 / 2

Premise: A beloved childhood toy gets a new life.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); ft. Sophie and Eloise Ramsey (F!OCs) Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Words: 1,420

A/N: Submission to @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 prompt 21: Memories. Part 1 is here.

The shirt collar was scratchy, and he couldn’t wait to go home so he could change into a tee shirt. But home was hours away. It might as well be on the Planet Krypton.

Ethan Ramsey snickered at the analogy as he adjusted the seat belt strap so that it wasn’t so close to his neck. Fidgeting in his seat (he also had to pee real bad), he wondered how much longer he’d be stuck in the car.

They were heading to Sunday dinner at his grandparents' house, but they had moved across town, and now it took forever to drive there.

“Are we there yet?” he called out plaintively.

“Five more minutes,” his dad replied from the front.

“That’s what you said five minutes ago!” Ethan whined.

“And it’ll still be five more minutes unless you stop asking,” his mom said, shooting him that look.

Grumbling under his breath about the unfairness of being a child without any control over his life, Ethan watched the scenery blur past the car window. With a distracted hand, he sped an imaginary red toy truck along the narrow ledge beneath the glass.

The toes of his black shoes pinched, and he wondered (not for the first time) whether God would really care if, just once, he wore sneakers to church. His parents seemed to think so, but Ethan wasn’t convinced.

With everyone else going on in the world, you’d think the Almighty had more important things to worry about than an almost eight-year-old boy not wearing his Sunday Best.

“We’re here,” his dad said, turning the truck into the long drive.

Ethan’s eyes lit up at the sight of Pop-Pop waiting for them on the front porch, his tall frame leaning against the white railing. Beside him sat Lucy, his black lab, her tail wagging enthusiastically.

As soon as his dad parked the truck, Ethan bolted out the door, throwing his arms around his grandfather’s long legs. He gave Lucy a quick pat on the head before she could demand more attention with her barking.

His grandfather’s booming laughter filled the air. “Happy Birthday, Ethan!”

“But it’s not until tomorrow,” Ethan remarked, tilting his head back.

“And I’ll wish you then, too,” Pop-Pop laughed, nodding pleasantly as his parents joined them on the porch. “Now, come on inside. Your grandmother’s prepared a feast, and I bet you’re hungry as a bear.”

Later, Ethan sat cross-legged on the braided rug in the cozy living room, licking his lips at the lingering taste of the delicious roasted chicken and apple pie they’d had for Sunday dinner.

He was about to ask if he could go outside to play with Lucy when Pop-Pop disappeared into the hallway only to return moments later, holding a small, rectangular box wrapped in brown wrapping paper.

“What’s that?” Ethan asked, scooting closer as his grandfather crouched down and placed the box in his lap.

“Something I’ve been saving for just the right time,” Pop-Pop said, his voice warm and gentle. “And what better time than your eighth birthday?”

Ethan tore into the wrapping with careful excitement, his breath catching at the sight before him. Inside was a small collection of toy cars, their vibrant colors and shiny metal surfaces catching the light from the lamp.

“Whoa.” Ethan ran his fingers over the smooth edges of the miniature vehicles. “These are awesome!”

“They were mine when I was younger,” his grandfather said, settling onto the floor beside him. “I repainted them for you, so they’re like new again.”

“Thanks, Pop-Pop,” Ethan said softly, hugging his grandfather before lifting out a red fire truck with a tiny extendable ladder.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

Ethan lined the cars in a neat row, already imagining the adventures they’d have. He didn’t know it then, but those little cars would follow him everywhere—racing along windowsills, zooming across tabletops and sometimes even tucked under his pillow at night.

Eventually, he outgrew the toy cars, trading them in for a shiny Schwinn bike he raced around the neighborhood with his friends. By the time he graduated from high school, he couldn’t even remember what had happened to them. His eyes were firmly focused on the future.

But the nostalgia of those early years—before his mother tore apart their family—often lingered at the back of his mind. Until one day, his life came full circle.

Seven-year-old Eloise Ramsey would have toppled headfirst into the cardboard box if her father hadn’t caught the waistband of her shorts and pulled her back just in time.

“Careful,” Ethan said, steadying her with one hand while shifting the box under his arm for a better grip.

Unfazed by her near fall, El grinned up at him. She and her twin sister were spending the weekend in Providence, helping their parents and Grandpa Alan sort through stuff to donate to the annual church charity drive.

Of course, their parents could handle the boring stuff, El thought. She and Sophie were hunting for treasure. To the twins, the basement wasn’t just a storage room. It was a mystical cave, and they were fearless adventurers on a daring mission.

“El, come look what I found!” Sophie called out from the other side of the basement, her voice echoing off the cement walls.

Ethan shook his head in exasperation as Eloise darted off, narrowly avoiding a stumble over an old outdoor mat that had clearly seen better days.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs drew his attention, and he looked up to see his wife, Cassie Valentine, leaning over the railing. Her grin widened as she watched the twins’ antics.

“Are you girls ready for a break?” she asked, coming down the stairs. “I made lemonade and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Look, Mommy, we found real treasure,” the twins cried excitedly. “Can we keep it? Please?”

Ethan met Cassie’s amused look and rolled his eyes. The idea of the twins finding anything even closely resembling treasure in the dusty basement was laughable.

Still, as Cassie and his father often reminded him, the rules of fatherhood dictated that he try and indulge the girls’ fits of fancies.

He froze when he saw Eloise holding a small, dusty box with both hands, her eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s full of cars!” she exclaimed to Cassie, who examined the box alongside the girls, their foreheads nearly touching.

A wave of recognition washed over him as he crossed the room to take a closer look. Sure enough, the box the girls had uncovered was filled with his old toy cars, their once-bright colors dulled by a fine layer of dust but still perfectly intact.

He knelt beside his daughters, taking the box and lifting out the familiar red fire truck, its tiny ladder still movable after all these years.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as memories flooded back—racing the cars with Pop-Pop on the front porch the day he got them, pretending to be a race car driver speeding down the Indy 500 track, or a firefighter saving the world with his trusty red truck.

“These were mine,” he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. “Pop-Pop—my grandfather,” Ethan clarified at their confused look, “gave them to me when I was about your age. They belonged to him when he was a child.”

“That’s so cool,” Sophie said, leaning into him as she steadied herself with one arm draped over his shoulder, her wide eyes fixed on the cars.

“Did you play with them a lot?” Eloise asked, peering into the box with fascination.

“All the time,” Ethan replied, his voice rough as he cleared his throat. “But that feels like a lifetime ago.”

The last words came out almost as a whisper, heavy with the weight of memories, but Cassie caught them nonetheless.

“Maybe it’s time these cars had adventures again,” Cassie murmured, giving the girls a meaningful look. “Just like my doll, Wilhelmina found a new home earlier this year.”

Ethan nodded absently, his fingers lightly tracing the roof of a blue sports car, savoring one final connection to his past before passing it on.

“They’re yours now,” he said, setting the box between the twins. “Just promise me you’ll take good care of them.”

“We will!” Eloise and Sophie said in unison, already diving into the box to examine their newfound treasures.

As the girls argued over who would get the shiny blue sports car, Cassie slipped an arm around his waist and leaned into his side.

“Now they have something from both our childhoods. And to think, you were convinced your dad had thrown everything out.”

Ethan caught the laughter in her voice and groaned when she added, “Told you so!”

“You just love saying that, don’t you?” he griped with exasperation.

“You better believe it,” Cassie giggled, her lips brushing against his. “There’s nothing more satisfying than proving you wrong.”

As Eloise held up the red fire truck, pretending to extinguish an imaginary blaze, Ethan couldn’t help but smile. Cassie was right. Some toys, like cherished memories, were meant to be passed on.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

@thosehallowedhalls

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #ramsey twins

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zekescherries · 2 months ago

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﹒ LEFT BEHIND! ﹔ ft ＃ zeke yeager ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕a living reminder of what he sacrificed, of what he left behind in pursuit of a "saving" opportunity for the eldian people.

PAIRING﹕zeke yeager × female!reader ﹒ post-rumbling

CHAPTER(S)﹕next

CONTENT WARNING﹕pregnancy & childbirth (mentioned) + grieving + single-parenthood + slight ptsd + dead!zeke + dark themes + pet names (zeke calls you peach) (i know not everyone is for pet names) + intentional lowercase & more as the story progresses

"what's your name, little one?"

"veil."

"ah. . ." mrs. annelie's gentle hand reaches out, her slim fingers weaving through the soft waves of veil's blond strands. the girl almost looks like a doll, the older woman can't help but admire her.

"you look just like your father, with those. . ." she falters. "pretty eyes." as the woman speaks veil blinks, her words come as a confusing mishmash of speech to her.

annelie remembers that gaze all too well, first belonging to that man.

this time, it's softer. curious and innocent.

the wooden floorboards creak, announcing your presence before you can verbally. "mrs. . .annelie," a sigh escapes your lips. seeing her familiar face lifts a weight off your shoulders, weight you didn't even know you were holding onto. she steps forward, bringing you into a hug. one that reminds you of your late mother.

"how are you, dear?" she asks.

you chuckle, glancing down at veil who returns your numerous tired look. "i'm doing better." you answer truthfully.

grieving while being a single mother was a challenge, nothing could've prepared you for that.

"oh, sweetheart. . ." mrs. annelie's hand grifts over to your face, cupping your cheek in her hand. "you have people who will support you." you know she's right. "don't be afraid to ask for any help."

you didn't even know you needed that reassurance until now.

"thank you, i really do appreciate everything." you give her a slow nod.

the evening has passed and as you wave mrs. annelie goodbye veil stays by your side. now that you think of it, it's nearing her bedtime.

"ready for a bath, peach?" you ask, the nickname rolling off your tongue.

veil nods, watching you close the door. her clothes are a stained mess from the food she ate earlier. you scoop your little girl up, her hair brushing up against your chin.

stepping over toys and pieces of paper you make it to the bathroom. hopefully the water runs properly this time around, house appliance complications weren't rare; especially with how the world looked.

but for right now, you focus on the little gremlin whom you've grown to adore. even while she was still inside the womb.

his lighter finally flashes, trying to catch a small flame. it's clicking is one of the only sounds in the room. when the cigarette is finally lit he brings it up to his lips.

maybe he should kick this habit, but not now.

his shoulders rise, then they fall and ease into a relaxed position while he exhales a cloud of smoke. "zeke," he turns around, the dim lamp providing you with light. enough light that his hair shines gold in your eyes.

you pat your lap, a gesture that tells him to lay his head in your lap. "making room for me, peach?" zeke crawls across his bed, the mattress dipping at his weight.

you smile, welcoming him with open arms. "of course. . ."

the sun's warm ray shines on your back, you adjust, sitting up in your bed only to look over and see veil sleeping next to you. her bed is only a few steps away in the other room yet she finds comfort in sleeping in your bed.

"another one of those dreams. . ." you ponder for a moment, stretching your arms above your head. reoccurring dreams of the past haunt you. reminding you of what used to be.

what you could've still had if things had been different.

". . .mama," veil calls out to you, her voice a bit gruff, laced with tiredness. "i'm right here." you lay a hand on her head, petting her hair and bringing her close.

you feel yourself on the brink of tears, yet you shake the feeling off. not wanting veil to witness her mother in such a state. it's been so long since you've let yourself grieve, veil will never know her father. she'll never experience what it feels like to have her father at her side. your heart breaks for her.

"how about we visit uncle levi?"

veil nods, her head tucked into your shoulder.

"okay, mama."

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veephoenix · 1 year ago

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the unmaking of a warrior | part five

Pairing: samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words: 5.4k | Cross-posted on AO3.

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR

PART V

A finger traced the contours of my jaw tenderly.

I blinked, adjusting to the shadows, and lifted my gaze to meet Noah’s, finding comfort and warm in the soft curve of his smile. He was propped on an elbow, staring down at me.

For a while, I thanked the darkness for enveloping us in a blanket that shielded us from the realities waiting beyond the walls of the room.

Despite the tranquility and safety of being tucked against his chest, my legs tangled with his under the sheets, Noah’s quiet words pierced through the serenity I wanted to desperately cling to.

“It’s time.”

As much as I wished to stay in that moment, in his embrace, soaking in the slow morning with the one I loved, I acknowledged our necessities. I hummed, relishing in his touch, cuddling closer to him. Time was running against us, and despite how much that instant felt like freedom, it wasn’t.

We wouldn’t be free until we were far away.

In silence, we slipped out from beneath the soft sheets, the fabric whispering against our skin as we prepared to face the day ahead.

Right outside the bedroom door, I found a pile of neatly folded clothes. With a furrowed brow, I looked towards the end of the corridor where my grandmother’s room was. No sign of her being awake, and yet, I knew that she had been the one to get those clothes for us. I didn’t know how she had managed to prepare the outfits, but I appreciated it, nevertheless.

Noah and I got dressed in silence. I tied my hair in a ponytail and stared at myself in the mirror, my features softened by the dim light in the room, until Noah’s presence behind me came to offer some comfort, his lips finding a spot on my shoulder and kissing it softly. When his lips were replaced by his hand, he massaged my shoulder for a few seconds before asking if I was ready.

I was as ready as someone in my shoes could be.

With no destination in sight, we had decided to abandon the safety of my grandmother’s little house at dawn, right before the sun came up. We didn’t know where we would head to; we just knew that we would keep moving until our feet and legs gave up.

We descended the stairs in silence, each step a reminder of the weight of our circumstances and that I might never get to set foot in this house again, this place where I had spent so much time of my childhood, running from one room to another, laughing, listening to my grandmother’s bedtime stories, and then, falling in love over and over again every time Noah and I met clandestinely in that room, where he made love to me so many times after I waited for hours by the window, looking at the dark sky and the stars adorning it.

Every inhale was deep and slow. The only reassurance Noah’s figure in front of me. With the light from the only lamp on in the entrance of the house, I caught into his tall, slender figure. His stance never failed. Yet, I felt that I was losing energy by the minute, thinking about the obstacles that still lay ahead. I envied Noah’s demeanor, the way he managed to keep his emotions in check and push his body to its limits without necessarily having to face the same struggles my body did.

It didn’t matter if he had been stripped of the title. He was still a Samurai, and he would always be my Samurai.

A sudden figure materialized in the dimness, in the hallway that led to the kitchen, and I contained a scream, stumbling with my back against Noah’s chest.

Grandma stood before us, a diminutive figure bathed in the faint light.

“You should eat something before you depart,” she said, her voice gently reminding us of the practicalities that might elude us once we were out of the shelter of her house.

With her arm extended, she pointed towards the tearoom.

We found out she had prepared a modest breakfast —if you could call it that, given the time. We silently accepted it and devoured as much as we could with the tranquility not typical of two lovers who are on the run, being hunted for something that shouldn’t be a crime.

As I swallowed the last morsel of bread, I glanced up to find my grandmother watching us with a mixture of concern and affection from the threshold, her hands clasped before her.

Noah’s brown gaze met mine from across the table, his expression guarded yet filled with a quiet determination. He was seizing me from the other side of the small wooden table, his short strands of hair falling over his eyes. He had a cautious look on his face, as if he was troubled about our next steps. He definitely was, how could he not?

He had been eating slower than me. When there were a few bites left on his bowl, he nudged it towards me. I hesitated, rising an eyebrow, a flicker of protest rising within me.

“Eat,” he urged.

“But, what about you?”

“You need it more.”

I was about to complain, his concern bothering me a little, but the most rational part of me realized he had a point. He was a Samurai —a Ronin now— and he had fought in battles before, starving for days and going without water. His concern was obvious. I was smaller and less trained to resist what we would have to endure. He just wanted to make sure I was okay. It was the same reason why he had checked my feet in the room before putting on my socks, making sure I didn’t have any blisters or pain that would make it hard for me to walk. I was fine. Just feeling a bit groggy yet due to the lack of sleep and the cold that swept through my bones last night, but regardless, I was doing fine and I was sure I could manage. For him, I would manage. Whatever trials lay ahead, we would weather them as long as we stood together.

Moments later, we were back in the entrance of the house. Our boots were still damp when we wore them again, but we would have to do with it. Noah tied his katana at his side, securing it tightly.

Without uttering a word, Grandma handed Noah a backpack. She indicated that she had stored some food and water inside. We both nodded in gratefulness. Then, she took one more step forward to us.

There was something in her old eyes.

“There is a place for you,” she said, her eyes moving from me to Noah. “It’s a sacred place, but I trust that you will find it. You will be welcomed there.”

I looked at Noah in confusion. He had the same expression on his face.

In the night and under the dim lights of the little cozy house where she resided, my grandmother looked older and wiser than I had ever seen her. With a drop of her shoulders, she proceeded to tell us about a place that not many people knew about: a secluded village in the mountains, hidden in a valley, nearly a two-day walk from where we were. It was a place where we would be safe to let our love run freely without being hunted for the crimes inscribed in the Code. The place had no name, as it remained a location for those seeking only freedom for their true feelings. Grandma knew about it because her own grandmother had told her, but neither of them had chosen to escape there, being too scared and too tied to the royal family they belonged to.

That dawn, I got to know that grandma had liked a boy from a lower class during her teenage years. She had dreamed of a life with him, perhaps allowing herself to fall in love with him, but she hadn’t been as brave as I was. She didn’t want me to suffer her same fate, so she trusted that Noah and I would make it there, that we would find our way through the towns we would have to cross and the perils we would encounter in the forest.

“When you cross the mountains of Sumire, find the oak forest. Then, follow the river upstream. It will take you to a dead end. On the right, there should be a single red rhododendron plant. Wait there.”

I memorized the instructions in my head before nodding, aware that Noah was doing the same next to me as he adjusted the straps of the backpack on his shoulders.

“I pray that you will find the happiness you’re seeking there, and that you will be able to build your family.”

When she said those words, her eyes navigating from Noah to me back and forth, I felt the tears prickling at my eyes. While I wanted to build a life with the man standing next to me, my grandmother was my family, too. She had always tried her best to raise me as a noble woman, capable of differentiating right from wrong without being self-righteous like my mother and father. This strong personality of mine was probably a result of her care throughout my childhood. On top of that, she had known about my feelings for Noah before I even myself did. She was a wise creature, filled with knowledge obtained from her painful experiences as a woman in a man’s world and being born in a royal family, expectations already upon her from the second she was born.

She put a hand flat on Noah’s chest. He remained as still as always. I looked at both, my eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“You’re a good man, Noah. You have my blessings to take my granddaughter’s hand.”

I nearly choked. I could tell Noah’s heart skipped a beat, too, for his eyes widened at my grandmother’s words.

We had never talked about marriage, but it was obvious, wasn’t it?

“Protect each other.”

The sun would miss our sad farewell. I could see the glittering tears in my grandmother’s eyes, too, when she looked back at me. It comforted me to know she understood how much I loved Noah, and how much he loved me, and that despite all of it, how much I loved her, too.

With an impulse, I hugged her, and I shed a tear or two. I contained my sobs. Her words, ‘my little girl’, spread through me like a symphony that would accompany me forever.

“I have one more thing for you.”

As she spoke, a ripple of anticipation coursed through me, mingling with a sense of curiosity. What more could she possibly have to give me, I wondered, already feeling overwhelmed by the depth of her help and affection.

With a tender smile, Grandma gently withdrew from our embrace, her eyes sparkling with a mysterious determination. There was a fleeting glint of something indefinable in her gaze, as if she carried a secret burden.

She turned away from me, her silhouette momentarily swallowed by the shadows that danced upon the walls.

Then, as swiftly as she had departed, she reappeared before us, her hands clasping something precious and ineffably sacred.

She held a katana in her wrinkled hands. My breath caught in my throat as I beheld the weapon, its presence imbued with an otherworldly aura that whispered of forgotten legends and untold stories.

“This is…” Noah started saying.

"This belonged to your grandfather," Grandma murmured to me, her voice trembling with emotion. "It was thought to be lost forever, but fate brought it back to me. And now, I am giving it to you.”

I reached out tentatively, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool metal of the katana. A surge of reverence washed over me, mingling with a profound sense of gratitude for something that I felt I didn’t deserve.

"This is a reminder of who you are and where you come from. Let it be a beacon of strength and courage in the face of adversity, just as it was for your grandfather. But use it to fight for what you love, not for what your greed wants."

As I held the katana close to my heart, its weight a tangible reminder of the legacy I carried within me, I felt a surge of determination coursing through my veins. Each inch of steel whispered stories of the past, imbued with the essence of resilience. My grandmother’s words echoed like a solemn oath in the corridors of my mind, a testament to the path I had chosen, despite the rules I had dared to challenge.

Love is not a crime.

While I marveled at the weapon’s craftmanship, a question popped in my head, making me knit my brows. Before I could articulate my thoughts, my grandmother’s voice rose again.

"I know that Noah has been training you for a while,” she said, her eyes searching mine with a depth of understanding. "He's taught you well, and I have every confidence that you know how to handle this katana with the same skill and grace that your grandfather did. You’re a warrior princess, after all.”

Her words dispelled the shadows of doubt that threatened to engulf me.

I tightened my grip on the sword, feeling its power coursing through me like a current of pure energy. As I looked into my grandmother's eyes —a reflection of mine— I knew that I carried not only the legacy of my ancestors, but also the strength and wisdom of those who had come before me. And with their guidance and Noah by my side, I would face whatever challenges lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that I was never truly alone.

In another gesture of goodwill, as if she trusted that everything would be okay, she reached into the pocket of her apron, taking out a tiny daruma doll, its vivid red hues a vivid contrast against the subdued atmosphere of the room.Daruma dolls were a token of good luck. She extended it towards Noah, her expression a mixture of understanding and acceptance of his trials and choices.

It filled my heart with warmth to know that she accepted our love.

Noah hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing his features before he nodded grateful towards her. Though his silence said enough, I sensed the weight of unspoken words lingering between them, a silent exchange of gratitude and respect that transcended the need for verbal communication.

He kept the little figurine in a side pocket of the backpack.

As my grandmother turned her gaze back to me, her eyes held a depth of wisdom. With a final embrace, I bid farewell to her, feeling the weight of her love and guidance like a comforting cloak wrapped around my shoulders. As Noah and I stepped out, I carried with me not only the gifts she had blessed us with, but also the unspoken promise to honor our shared heritage and forge a path of our own making.

“May I see you again someday, grown into the beautiful and strong woman you are meant to be,” she said from the porch.

I smiled. Then Noah’s fingers intertwined with mine, and under the ethereal glow still filling the town, we continued our journey.

The winding streets stretched out before us, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets that whispered of the countless souls who had walked these paths before us.

With each step, I clung to Noah's arm, my heart pounding in my chest as we navigated the maze of cobblestone alleys and narrow passageways. My knowledge of the town was limited, gleaned from the few times I had accompanied my grandmother on her trips to the market. Now, those fleeting memories offered little comfort as we ventured into uncharted territory, our only compass the pulsing beat of our intertwined hearts.

As we left the town behind and ventured into the wilderness beyond, the first light of dawn began to paint the sky with hues of pink and gold.

Three hours after leaving the village behind, exhaustion began to settle heavily upon me, and doubts crept in as I questioned my ability to keep pace with Noah and reach the secluded place my grandmother had told us about and that now wouldn’t leave my thoughts.

Would we be able to find it? And if we did, would it be the place we hoped it would be? A corner where we could live freely, loving each other without fear? Could we build our life there?

Noah's hand tightened around mine, as if sensing my anxiety, his touch always a reassuring anchor in the sea of uncertainty that surrounded us.

We made a short stop not long after, finding a place to sit beneath a tree, where we eagerly devoured the sandwiches my grandmother had packed for us. If it hadn’t been for it, I wondered how we might have managed to afford any food along the way.

When Noah asked me how I was coping, I nodded, reassuring him with a faint smile. My princess’ looks where long gone. I was sure if I could see myself in a mirror, I would hardly recognize the young woman standing in front of it. After all, I was no longer the person I had been two days before.

Taking another piece of bread between my fingers, I placed it in my mouth; a small bite to enjoy the food for longer.

“Hey,” he took my chin in his fingers, tilting my face towards him.

His forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat and some strands of brown hair were stuck to it. I dreaded for the moment we would find a place to call home and we could enjoy another bath together. I wanted to wash his hair and run my hands down the lines of his face. He was tired, I could tell, even if he refused to admit it.

With a tender gesture, he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch gentle yet filled with an unspoken promise of devotion and protection.

How lucky I was, despite everything.

"We'll find a safe place to rest after we walk a bit more,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that calmed the storm raging within me. “We’re headed in the right direction.”

Perhaps his words were as much for his own reassurance as they were for mine. Regardless, I accepted them. His perseverance was contagious, and with tired and bleeding feet or not, I would always walk beside him.

I finished my food and drank some water, assessing our supplies and contemplating the necessity for rationing during our two-day trek. Standing up I brushed the dirt from my black leggings and secured my ponytail before fastening my grandfather’s katana at my waist. Noah had been admiring it in his hands after he completed his food and expressed his contentment at the fact that such legendary weapon had been placed in my hands.

“Are your feet holding up?” Noah asked, his concern evident as he glanced back at me.

“They’re fine,” I lied. “No need to worry. I can manage.”

I did feel a certain discomfort that was accentuated by the dampness of my boots, but it wasn’t anything to stress too much about. I had hopes that once we reached the place we were headed to, I could tend to them.

As the day wore on, fatigue gradually tightened its grips, our weary bodies protesting with each new step. I heard Noah sighing a few times, specially at those moments when we stopped to look around and make sure we were moving in the right direction. Glancing upwards, I tracked the sun’s descent, mindful of our path ahead. It would set soon, and we had yet to climb a steep hill.

Yet, despite the physical strain, I was sure that the bond that united me and Noah only grew stronger with each of our steps, fueled by the shared determination to carve out a future together against all odds, having defied death the morning before and having escaped my parents’ kingdom unharmed. Sometimes we walked hand in hand, while at other times, we walked apart. Conversations ebbed and flowed, interspersed with Noah’s occasional lighthearted jokes to make me laugh and relieve my mind from the stress we were both carrying. In those moments when his smile broke through, a sense of reassurance flooded me, whispering that everything would be okay eventually.

With the setting sun casting a golden glow upon the landscape, we stumbled upon a tranquil clearing nestled amidst the trees after staggering up the hill for twenty exhausting minutes, the soft murmur of a nearby stream providing a soothing backdrop to our exhaustion. I wasn’t sure how we would make it the rest of the way the next day, but all I could think about was laying down and giving my body a rest.

"Look," I whispered to Noah, a sense of urgency guiding my finger as I pointed towards a weathered cottage nestled amidst the dense foliage to our left. Its timeworn structure stood as a solitary sentinel amidst the wilderness, a refuge amidst nature. Its wooden frame bore the scars of time, with walls weathered by seasons and a roof bearing a small, ragged aperture.

"That will have to suffice," Noah declared, his gaze scanning the structure before turning to me with a hopeful smile.

As we stepped inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of decay, proof of the passage of time and neglect. The dampness of the floor seeped through the soles of my boots, but the alternative of bedding down in the damp earth didn’t hold much more appeal to neither of us. With trembling limbs, I sank to the floor, exhaustion filling every inch of my body.

Noah's eyes softened as he watched me sink to the ground of the cabin, after making sure the floor would break under our weight. He knelt beside me, leaning against the wall. I felt his gaze even as I kept my eyes closed, relishing in a deep breath after enduring the past four hours. Despite my efforts to keep my hair tied, it was now a tangled mess, adorned with dry leaves and debris.

It escaped my knowledge how Noah was able to let out a laugh in those circumstances as his fingers removed a couple of leaves from the crown of my head. Then, he touched my chin, his touch gentle as he brushed away the dirt and grime that clung to my skin.

As I struggled to remove my boots, a low moan escaped my lips, the ache of our journey etched into every fiber of my being.

Opening the backpack Noah had placed on the floor in front of us, I unzipped it, instantly greeted by the aroma of food, a welcome change from the scents of nature. I offered a sandwich to Noah, only to have him decline.

I glared at him.

“Don’t you even think about sacrificing your food for me. You need it as much as I do. You might be a Samurai but you’re still human, so eat,” I admonished, dropping the sandwich onto his lap.

He regarded me with surprise before relenting. “All right.”

Relaxing my posture and observing the food in my hands, I acknowledged the reality of our situation. "We should ration, though," I conceded, checking our remaining water bottles and sandwiches. "There won't be enough to last until tomorrow night."

“Then we better make sure we reach our destination in good time to be served a good hot bowl of stew,” Noah replied optimistically.

We ate in silence, listening to the unique symphony of sounds provided by the forest around us.

“Why don’t you try to sleep for a while? I’ll keep watch,” Noah suggested once the dark started enveloping us. He had retrieved the Daruma doll from the backpack and was cradling it in his hands, admiring its detailed paintings.

“There’s no need. This place looks quite safe to me. You could try to sleep, too,” I countered.

“I’d feel better if I keep an eye out,” he insisted.

“Hmm.”

“No sulking, come on.” Grabbing the backpack, he placed the doll inside, making sure it was safe. He sat back with his back properly leaned against the wall and patted his thigh. “You can lay your head on my lap if that makes you feel any more comfortable.”

I did, nudging my nose against his tummy.

For a while, I was alone with my thoughts.

The distant howls of nocturnal creatures echoed through the dense forest, serving as a haunting reminder of the perilous journey we had embarked upon, which was not only filled with the dread of being lost but also being hunted. Memories of my former life danced before me like ghostly apparitions, intertwining with hopes for a future free from the constraints of my duties as the Shogun’s daughter.

“Noah,” his name tasted like honey in my lips.

“Yes?”

“Is this how you imagined things? I mean, we never really discussed how we would do it, how we would… run away, and we never talked about how we saw ourselves in the future. I’m curious now.”

“Curious if my mind has changed?”

“I guess.”

He sighed deeply, his gaze lifting as if seeking clarity in the starry night sky above us, beyond the hole in the roof.

“Everything has happened so fast…” he began. “I had more than enough time to dream the life I wanted you to have, everything I wanted to give you despite my position, but everything felt like a dream,” his fingers found my neck and traced a path that sent shivers down my spine before moving to my hair, gently tucking lose strands from my ponytail behind my ear as I looked up at him from his lap. “Now everything feels real. Whatever I dreamt for you —for us—, I’m on my way to get it.”

“We are,” I corrected him.

He looked down, his brown eyes lingering on mine before drifting to my lips and back again.

“What do you think we will find there?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he truthfully answered, “but I have a feeling that whatever it might be, we will get a chance, you and I.”

His words soothed the turmoil within me. Nestling closer to him, I began to let my mind wander to dreams where Noah and I had our own sanctuary, our own shared life, and a bed to fall asleep in each other's embrace.

“What my grandmother said…” I murmured, a bit shy, “would you marry me if you could?”

He furrowed his brow.

“Why are you asking that?”

I shrugged, suddenly aware that my fear was irrational. Noah had never had eyes for anyone but me. His devotion had been for no one but solely me.

“You know the answer to that. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I always had to go to bed thinking that I might never be able to make you my wife because of our different social status. Trust me, the moment I get to put a ring on your finger, I will.”

A content smile spread across my face as I embraced the knowledge, envisioning what it would be like to marry him—the boy I'd always loved, now grown into the man he was. My warrior.

"Try to rest, love," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress, his fingers continuing to weave softly through my hair.“And don’t be scared.”

As I closed my eyes and drifted into the realm of dreams, I felt Noah's presence beside me like a guardian angel, his arms around me, his unwavering vigilance a testament to the depth of his love and devotion.

The next day arrived with radiant clarity, the morning sun enveloping the landscape in its golden glow. Undeterred by the challenges of our journey, we pressed onward through the forest, guided by the distant echoes of my grandmother's voice and the promise of sanctuary that called us forward.

Before reaching the oak forest, we stumbled upon a mountain village. Comprising only a handful of houses, its rooftops still glistened from the previous days’ rain. The tranquil and secluded atmosphere led Noah and me to chose not to hide amongst the little buildings, reasoning that our presence would seem less conspicuous in plain sight. Yet, an unsettling sensation of being watched loomed over me as we traversed the main street. A pair of elderly women, occupied with tending to their chickens, offered us kind smiles as we passed. We reciprocated with respectful nods before continuing on our way. Despite our efforts to appear inconspicuous, I couldn't shake the feeling of being observed from the shadows, with added to my overall unease.

"Noah, I think someone is following us," I whispered as we neared the final house.

"I have had the same feeling, but it could just be our nerves getting the best of us. Perhaps we shouldn't have been so bold in passing through this town," he mused.

"What should we do?" I asked anxiously.

"Nothing," he decided firmly, tugging at my hand. "We continue onward. The oak forest can't be far now."

As the sun reached its zenith in the sky, we stumbled upon the ancient oak forest that my grandmother had spoken of, its towering sentinels reaching towards the heavens like silent guardians of a forgotten realm.

Though the oak forest could have spanned vast distances, we were fortunate to locate the river within twenty minutes of passing through the first oak trees. Having left the small town behind us hours ago, we had eaten our last sandwiches and biscuits, and our water supply was dwindling. However, our fortunes improved when we found the river, allowing us to refill our bottles and quench our thirst for a while longer.

As the hours passed, the feeling of being watched that we shared in the village faded away, the trees soothing my anxiety and fears. I would love to find a place among the trees where I could build my life with Noah. It would be lovely, to live among so much nature and raise our children, surrounded by flowers and such vibrant colors. I wondered again what would become of us. Were we destined to spend our days escaping from the crime of loving each other?Forever on the run from those who sought to tear us apart? Or could we dare to dream of a future where we could live in peace, free from the shackles of duty and obligation?

With a sense of awe and reverence, we followed the river upstream, the sound of rushing water mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead.

And then, right when I was about to ask Noah for a break —my feet were paining so much— at long last, we found it – the rhododendron plant, its vibrant blooms a splash of color amidst the verdant greenery that surrounded us. With trembling hands, I reached out, tempted, and plucked a single flower, its petals soft against my skin as if whispering secrets of the forest.

“It’s so beautiful,” I mumbled to myself.

Noah called my name. The way he said it wasn’t the usual gentle way. There was a warning this time. I looked over my shoulder to him.

“Stay back,” he said. “Come here.”

He extended his arm to me, and I took his hand without hesitation, a small question appearing between my brows, but before I could muster the words, another voice shattered the tranquility of the forest, its command ringing out with chilling clarity.

"Drop your weapons and step back."

I wasn’t sure where it came from, but I sure dropped the rhododendron flower, which fell at my feet, next to my worn out and dirty boots that had crossed lands.

Noah's grip tightened around his sword, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow in search of the unseen threat.With a silent nod, he motioned for me to stand behind him, his stance firm and unwavering as he prepared to defend us against whatever danger may be waiting for us, lurking in the shadows of the forest.

Readers tagged: @thescarlettvvitch | @girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x you #bad omens cult #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic

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kpopsexstories · 9 months ago

Text

NCT MOST MEMORABLE SEX – Story #20: JAEMIN Pt. 2/2

A new story/member every Monday. Click here to view the posting schedule.

Story: NCT Jaemin makes a new friend in a fan, and ends up having sex with her.

Type: MEDIUM

Content: Blowjob, Sitting/riding, Missionary

Word Count: 5,119 (10,811 incl. Pt 2)

Members: Jaemin

Read Part 1 of Jaemin's story.

Story #20: JAEMIN Pt. 2 (of 2)

Sarah had taken her friend’s advice to be careful. In her bag, she carried three things specifically for protection in the unique situation she now found herself in: pepper spray, in case she needed to defend herself. Her phone, in case she needed to call for help. And condoms, in case the evening took a different unexpected turn. Whatever might happen, she was prepared.

Now that she had spent hours with Jaemin already, and they had shared intimate details about their lives with each other, she knew that there was only one of the items that might still come to use.

By nine in the evening, they stopped their deep talk and finally shared the food Jaemin had so lovingly cooked. It had long since gone cold, but of course Johnny’s friend had a microwave. They heated their plates and sat down to eat.

During the meal, their conversation took a much more positive direction. They talked and laughed, and suddenly it felt like all their troubles had gone away.

As a joke, Sarah found a lighter in a kitchen drawer and took a candle from the living room table. She placed it between their plates in the kitchen.

“You said you dreamed of a romantic, normal evening. Let’s make it happen, shall we?”

She gave Jaemin a playful smile as she lit the candle, and sat down and looked at him with warmth in her eyes. For a brief moment, it really felt like a perfectly normal date. Sarah had never had one either.

When their plates were empty they put them in the dishwasher. Johnny had provided detailed instructions. They didn’t need to empty it, just make sure they didn’t leave anything dirty behind. His friend wouldn’t be back for a week, but when they returned it was important Jaemin had shown respect to the place he had borrowed.

By ten o’clock, the date reached a point where they could have called it a night and headed in separate directions. Sarah already had Jaemin’s private phone number, and he had hers. Leaving now would not necessarily have meant the end of things.

But neither was ready for the evening to end, and so Sarah suggested the final activity Jaemin had previously said they might do on his dream date: something as simple as a movie.

Jaemin was immediately up for the idea, but not before he asked an important question. “Where do you sleep tonight?”

Sarah hadn’t thought that far ahead. She usually found her hotels first thing when she came to the next city. In this case, she had come straight to the house, without a thought on how she’d spend the night.

“Shit,” she said. “I don’t know.”

“What, you haven’t booked something?”

“No,” Sarah said.

This made Jaemin endlessly fascinated. Sarah felt like a free spirit, someone who didn’t mind travelling the country on a whim with just a backpack. Of course, he already knew that she had planned the trip a year in advance, and that she wasn’t as free as circumstances made her appear.

“Okay. It’s late, so does that mean you have to go?”

“No,” Sarah repeated. “I can just book something online, something with a night reception. Fuck it, I’ll find something later. Let’s not ruin our perfect night.”

Jaemin was genuinely impressed by her attitude. He didn’t press the matter further.

Instead, they left the kitchen behind and headed to the living room, where there was a big screen TV, a couch wide enough for three, and a dining room table with four wooden chairs. The lights were off, but the kitchen light and street lamps from outside a nearby window were enough to create a dimmed, cozy feeling.

They found the remote and sat down in opposite ends of the couch. Sarah observed her date and smiled as he tried to figure out how the TV worked. Soon enough, they were logged into Netflix and found something they could agree on. They quickly learned that they had different movie tastes, but settled on an easy romantic comedy.

Jaemin didn’t pay any attention to any of it. The moment they were settled, two seats apart but with their feet almost touching, his mind and heart were racing.

He glanced over at Sarah more than he pretended to look at the screen. She was completely into the story, and laughed at the terrible jokes. He found her quite cute and smiled to himself.

Only ten minutes in, Sarah caught him staring. “What?” she asked and giggled. “Do you want to change after all?”

“No,” Jaemin said. He felt warm inside, excited to be alone with and near such a sweet and beautiful girl.

“Well, you’re not watching it. What’s on your mind?”

The answer was clear in Jaemin's head. The thought of sex had crossed his mind multiple times already. He had already taken a lot of chances tonight, and shared so much with his new friend that he shouldn't have shared with such a die-hard fan. Now, he figured he might as well take another one.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Sarah was pulled out of the movie completely. She stared right at him, with a serious and distant expression on her face. For a moment, Jaemin thought he had messed up big time.

“Sorry,” he said and blushed.

“No, don’t be. It’s just that no one has ever said that to me before. Like, ever.”

And it was true. Sarah had dated many men, and had more experience in her teenage years than most had in a lifetime. But she had never been loved, or even cared for before. They all just wanted one thing from her, and romance was not part of it. She had never experienced sex as two people who genuinely cared for one another.

Even if sex had crossed Jaemin's mind – and Sarah was sure that it had – he was not at all like those men, and she knew that too.

Now that she was drug free, happy, and had a future to look forward to, a gentle man like Jaemin was just what she needed. Her friend’s voice echoed in her head: "Be careful," it said. But also, "you deserve the world." There was no right or wrong answer to what she should do next, but she knew what she wanted from the bottom of her heart.

Sarah had a unique opportunity in front of her – to get closer to her idol which in itself was insane, and to get the kind of sweet love she never got when she was younger. The opportunity was too good to pass up on, and so she quickly made a decision. She decided to allow Jaemin to take their casual flirting to the next level.

“I think you’re beautiful,” she said and giggled.

The words gave Jaemin a thrilling shock. He had thought about Sarah for weeks, since he felt the physical attraction between them when he first saw her in the audience. But there certainly was a connection beyond just the physical. She was a gorgeous woman, but also open, deep, funny and smart. She had an extremely positive aura about her, despite her troubled past.

They sat in silence for a while, deep in thought, the movie still playing but neither hearing a word of it. Sarah was suddenly questioning if she'd misjudged Jaemin's intentions. Then he said something that took her by surprise.

“Those men you mentioned… I’m sorry for what they put you through. Truly, I am. I want you to know that most guys are not like that.”

It was not the intimate direction she had anticipated, but it made her feel better inside than she ever had before.

Sarah already knew it though, that most men were more like Jaemin and less like those she had experienced in person. She had long since come to terms with the fact that the life of one-sided sex she used to lead was not the norm. Yet she saw a chance to tease her new friend, and to give Jaemin a push in the direction she wanted the rest of the evening to go in.

“Prove it,” she said with a smirk.

Foreplay starts here...

Jaemin didn’t respond at first. He wasn’t sure what the challenge meant, if he was supposed to give her another compliment. He also genuinely worried about what damage the men had done to the girl he now fancied so deeply. What were her limits?

“How?” he asked.

“Kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me like I’m the only girl in your world.”

“You are the only girl in my world,” Jaemin joked, but he quickly realized that now was not the time to be funny.

They looked at each other across the couch, and Jaemin’s mind was going wild. Could he really? He certainly wanted to. But did she really want the same thing?

Sarah sensed his hesitation. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said.

Of course he wanted to. It was all he could think of in this moment. And so, something flipped in his head, and he decided to just go for it. Sarah was enormously happy and relieved that he did.

Jaemin suddenly sat up on the couch, and launched himself in Sarah’s direction. She laughed at the prompt and eager action, then stopped when he leaned in over her, a hand on either side of her waist. He stood on his knees, arms stretched, and stayed there hovering above her, withing for a sign.

Sarah stretched her legs on the couch in the dimly lit room. She put a hand on Jaemin's waist, and when he slowly lowered his face she was the one to raise her head and close the gap between them. It was a kiss they both longed for so desperately, and when their lips met it felt magical.

Sarah slid down on the couch, and Jaemin lowered his body on top of her. She spread her legs and sank deeper into the cushions as they began to make out.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Sarah asked.

Jaemin immediately stopped the kissing. It was such a direct question. He feared it was her history talking. Did she feel pressure to do this? Did she think she somehow owed him something, or that she had to pleasure him for him to like her? In this moment, he genuinely worried about her.

“I’m not like those men,” he said.

“What, you don’t want me?” Sarah asked.

“I do. I really do. But I can’t do this unless you want it too. If we have sex, how is that proof that not all men just want what those in your past did?”

Sarah smiled. She let her hand glide up and down Jaemin's back, and placed the other on his cheek. She caressed him gently while staring into his eyes.

Her soft touch felt amazing, and Jaemin’s heart almost stopped. It was at this moment a strange but lovely evening turned into his most memorable sexual experience.

”You forget one thing,” she said. ”We just spent an entire evening in that kitchen over there, talking about all our insecurities, traumas and flaws. I opened myself up to you in a way I haven't opened up to a man before in my life. And what did you do?”

“The same,” Jaemin said.

“Yes, but not only that. You listened. You asked me questions. You saw me, or at the very least tried to understand me. Despite all the trauma, you made me laugh, and cry, but in the best possible way.”

She paused for a second. Jaemin adjusted his position, his bulge pressing between Sarah's legs. He didn't know what to say.

“And not once did you come on to me, or pressure me into something I didn't want to say or do, or expect anything from me. I can see it in your eyes even now. You’re not them. If all that didn’t already prove to me that you’re different, then I don’t know what else you can do.”

Jaemin snickered and smiled wide. He hadn’t thought of it that way. It was true that he had a genuine interest in Sarah and her life. He cared a lot about her past and how it might affect her, but at the same time her past didn't matter at all. He liked who she was when they were together, and the feeling seemed to be mutual.

“So, what does that mean?” he asked.

Now it was Sarah who didn’t respond. Instead, she lifted her head and kissed him again, a long and loving kiss, like none she had ever given a man before. It made him melt inside.

At first, Jaemin merely let her. Then, he finally understood that all this was alright. Sarah wanted him, and he wanted her. There was no more need for talking.

As they resumed their love making, all boundaries had suddenly vanished. Jaemin pressed his pelvis down hard between Sarah's legs, and she spread her knees wider as he squirmed on top of her. She felt his body, from his skinny waist to the back of his broad shoulders. His body was powerful, strong and comforting.

Soon, Sarah pulled on his tucked t-shirt until it came out of his jeans. She pulled it higher over his back, and he raised his body briefly to release it from between their stomachs. When it was up to his armpits, he sat up and took it off.

His frizzy hair pointed in all directions when the shirt came over his head. When he lay back down, she ran her fingers through it and he began to kiss her neck. A jolt of arousal and happiness shot through her. I'm touching Jaemin, she thought to herself. The Jaemin. It was like a surreal dream.

Jaemin felt exactly the same thing. Sarah was not just any girl he had spotted in the audience. She was special. He had never before experienced the kind of attraction he felt when their eyes first met, and the closeness he felt when they opened up to each other. To be with the girl he had dreamt of since that first day made him feel incredibly lucky.

I don't deserve her, he thought when Sarah's hands explored his bare back. To be held by her made him feel warm inside.

Soon, however, the tingle between his legs took over. He wanted to feel more of her. And so his hand felt its way under her top, where her soft skin made him feel even hornier than he already was. It was time to take things all the way.

When his hand reached just below her breast, Sarah suddenly pushed him up. He pulled his knees under him and sat up straight on them. Still with her legs around him she joined him. In between kisses, she pulled the top over her head. He looked down at her breasts while she unbuckled her bra. When it came off, she threw it on the ground and lay back down.

Jaemin followed her. He held her waist and kissed her naked breasts. They felt great, warm and soft to the touch.

While he explored her body, Sarah unzipped her pants and pulled them down. Her underwear came down with them.

Eager to feel that part of her too, Jaemin reached down and began to unbuckle his pants. He pushed his ass up to get more space. With her pants down on her thighs, Sarah helped him. She undid the button and unzipped the jeans, then reached down into Jaemin’s underwear and felt his firm cheeks.

They both felt a thrilling and happy sensation as they undressed each other, but there was also a serious mood in the air. The mood would lighten up when Sarah pulled Jaemin’s pants and underwear down over his ass, and Jaemin suddenly stopped moving.

Sarah could almost read his mind. Simultaneously, they announced: “I have condoms.”

“Jinx!” Sarah exclaimed and burst out laughing. As did Jaemin, who buried his face between her breasts while Sarah threw her head back, giggling and smiling.

Sarah had come prepared for the sake of protection, just as she had promised her friend. Jaemin too had known that he had to be careful, but he had thought condoms were an unnecessary thing to bring. It was the boys who convinced him to take some with him just in case, and now, that decision proved to be the right one.

Jaemin quickly stood up. His hard cock was already out, and Sarah looked at it with interest as she sat up and took her own pants and sock all the way off. Completely naked, she lay back down and made herself comfortable on the couch, while Jaemin stripped the rest of his clothes off too.

When he was done, he smiled at his lover before he turned to walk to the kitchen. He could feel Sarah's eyes on him. It felt good to be admired.

“You have a swimmer's body,” she said.

“What's that?“ Jaemin asked, without stopping or turning around.

“You're very skinny, but you have broad shoulders. Your arms are big. Not just the muscles, all of them. They're soft but look firm. And daaamn, that ass!”

Jaemin laughed and turned to smile at her. His dick pointed straight out as Sarah admired his silhouette. Then he disappeared into another room through a door in the kitchen. He had thrown his backpack on the floor in the bedroom to keep it out of the way, and now he reached down into it in the darkness, feeling his way to the condoms.

When he finally returned to the living room, he was surprised to see Sarah standing by the dinner table. She had pulled out a chair and placed it in the middle of the floor, facing in his direction.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked.

Despite how shitty her past relationships were, Sarah had learned a thing or two from the men she had been with. “Sit,” she said and smiled.

Jaemin did as he was told. He walked over to the chair and sat down on it. The light from the kitchen reflected on his naked body. Sarah stood in front of him and took the condom from his hand. He admired her beautiful figure, bare breasts and cute face. Damn she's gorgeous, he thought, as blood pumped through his rock hard organ.

Blowjob & first sex starts here...

“Place your arms over the backrest and hold your hands behind your back,” Sarah continued.

Jaemin did as instructed once again. When his arms were stretched and hands locked behind him, Sarah spread his thighs and sat down on her knees. She gently took the hard dick in her hand, and began to lick the shaft.

Jaemin stared at her in disbelief. A sensational feeling rush though him.

Sarah pulled his foreskin back, kissed the head then took it in her mouth. Still with his arms and hands locked, Jaemin began to moan as she sucked him. He watched as her head bobbed up and down between his legs.

“You've got to stop or I'll come,” he said when he felt an orgasm nearing.

Sarah took the cock out of her mouth, and licked the tip rapidly in a circular motion, edging her lover. Another trick she had picked up. A second rush came over Jaemin, and his body suddenly jolted. Sarah stopped and let him calm himself, then repeated the act to tease his senses.

“Holy fuck!” Jaemin exclaimed when he jolted a second time. This time, he had to let go of his hands and held his arms in front of him, pushing Sarah's head away from his boner. “Where did you learn to do that?” he asked and panted.

Sarah didn't answer. Instead, she licked the shaft one last time, then unwrapped the condom in her hand. She placed it on the tip, and Jaemin moaned when her fingers rolled the silicon down his boner.

When she was done, she moved up Jaemin’s abs and chest. Her lips soon reached his mouth. While kissing the stunned man passionately, she spread her legs and sat on on his lap.

Jaemin put one hand on her waist and the other on a breast. Sarah reached down and grabbed the shaft. He explored her with his large palms while she lowered herself onto it.

Jaemin let out another groan as the head penetrated the edge of the vagina. When the shaft was swallowed whole, Sarah too let out a sensual moan of pleasure.

They began to fuck slowly. They kissed with passion as Sarah rocked her hips and ass back and forth. Jaemin let his hands feel every bit of her skin, moving rapidly from the waist and breasts, to her shoulders and down to her ass and thighs. She felt amazing in his arms.

As they picked up the pace, Sarah began panting softly. She stopped kissing and tilted her head back, with an arm firmly clutched around Jaemin’s neck.

Jaemin, in turn, buried his head between her breasts. He kissed them occasionally, but soon closed his eyes and simply let his wide open mouth rest against her skin. He panted and groaned as she rode his cock and felt his breath on her.

Her body looked small against his broad shoulders. His arms looked big around her waist and lower back.

Then suddenly, Sarah let out a single scream. She began to moan louder. Jaemin realized that she was having an orgasm when her body suddenly became stiff, and her thighs tightened around him.

"Oh yeah, Jaemin, you're so big!"

This turned him on enormously, and he began to fuck her faster. He rubbed his ass against the chair to match her rhythm, pushing deeper inside her with each thrust.

Then, almost as quickly as it had all started, he ejaculated. He grimaced and shut is eyes hard, and with a groan he came into the condom. He was perspiring, his shoulders glistening in the low light.

Sarah relaxed her muscles and sank down on top of her lover. She held him around the neck and pressed her breasts against his face and chest. She smelled his hair and moved her hips as he emptied himself inside her.

They panted heavily as they came down from their respective orgasms, and smiled lovingly at each other. Then they giggled happily, as the thrill of the sex rushed over them.

“Damn, you're amazing,” Jaemin said.

“So are you,” Sarah whispered softly.

When they had caught their breaths, she slowly stood up and the slack dick fell out of her.

Jaemin took off the condom and tied it together, and dropped it on the floor. They could clean up later, to leave no trace of their presence in the house.

“What happens now?” Sarah asked. It was late, the movie was still playing in the background, and their date could have ended here. But neither of them wanted it to.

“We could stay the night,” Jaemin said.

“I'd like that.”

Naked, exhausted and satisfied, they went back to the couch. Jaemin lay down on his side, and Sarah joined him in his arms. He held her body tight as he spooned her, occasionally kissing her shoulders from behind. They both watched the screen, spent and with a feeling of being loved, but neither paid any serious attention to it.

Foreplay & second sex starts here...

When the movie was over, Jaemin had recovered sufficiently to be horny again. As the credits rolled he caressed her breasts, which caused his organ to grow. When it poked her ass he began to move his pelvis softly, and Sarah felt the change in him.

She turned her head to see him through the corner of her eye. “Wanna go again?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jaemin whispered and smiled.

Now it was Sarah's turn to get up. She walked to the kitchen and hunched down next to her bag by the wall. Jaemin admired her slim, sexy body and began stroking his boner by himself. This all still felt unreal. But it was amazing.

When she returned, Sarah immediately put the condom on the shaft. Jaemin grinned wide while she worked on him. But then she suddenly backed away.

“Is there a bedroom?” she asked. “Are we allowed to use it?”

Jaemin giggled. “Actually, I didn't think it would ever come to this so I ignored it, but Johnny said that if we spend the night there's fresh sheets in the closet, and we just need to throw the old ones in the laundry basket.”

“He really planned this well for you, didn't he?” Sarah asked and laughed.

“I'm sorry,” Jaemin said. “I really didn't think this far ahead, I swear.”

“Don't worry. I'm glad he did.”

Sarah held out a hand. Jaemin took it. Hand it hand, horny and happy, they walked through the kitchen to the bedroom, where Sarah found a light switch.

She undid the bed and Jaemin crawled into it. He pulled her arm and she laughed as she fell on top of him. They rolled around and kissed for a few minutes, until Jaemin was on top of her and suddenly stopped.

“I'm really glad I met you,” he said softly, their noses touching. His wide body pressed her down into the mattress.

“So am I,” Sarah replied. She lifted her head and kissed him tenderly.

Jaemin began moving his pelvis slowly. Sarah reached down and grabbed his cock. It effortlessly slid inside her, and the final act began.

At first they fucked slow, panting softly as the cock went in and out in a calm but steady rhythm. Then, faster and harder while they kissed and touched.

Sarah spread her legs wide and Jaemin buried his head in her neck. His ass moved rapidly up and down as he thrust into her, and the mattress started shaking as he picked up the pace.

When Sarah grabbed his firm ass cheeks, the bed started bumping loudly against the wall. Jaemin panted heavily into her ear, while she held him tight and scratched his back. She even left a mark on him, one he would playfully show off to his friends when they pressured him about it.

It was clear to Sarah that Jaemin wasn't all that experienced. But damn does he feel good, she thought while clutching on to his muscular body.

For once in her life, Sarah lay mostly still. Not because she felt disgusted by the man on top of her and wanted it to end, but because she did not. She had never felt so loved, so desired, and as Jaemin filled her up physically, her heart was filled too.

This time she didn't orgasm, but she didn't need to. Jaemin, however, came with a loud groan faster than he intended to. He was incredibly aroused when Sarah suddenly shouted his name: "Ahh, yeah, Jaemin!" she exclaimed when he emptied himself inside her.

Wow, Jaemin thought. I've never had sex this good before!

Then he collapsed on top of his lover. His broad shoulders covered all of her, and she sank even deeper into the foam. His cock felt great inside her as it continued to throb.

To both Sarah and Jaemin, this became a night to remember.

*****

Sarah woke up with a jolt at 9 in the morning. Jaemin was snoring softly beside her, his chest moving up and down with each deep breath. The duvet was by his hip, and she smiled at his adorable face. She couldn't believe that their night together had been real.

She got up and went to the bathroom, then looked around the kitchen for food. She was sure they could replace whatever they took.

When breakfast was ready, she went to wake Jaemin up. “Sweetie,” she said. “You've got to go to work.”

Jaemin opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw the naked woman towering above him. He stretched his body and jawned. The duvet slid down as he moved his legs, and his hard cock was revealed.

Sarah giggled at the sight. “Oh wow, horny again?” she asked.

Jaemin looked down and smiled.

“I have another condom,” Sarah said. “Wanna go one last time?”

She didn't even need to ask. Breakfast could wait, as could work. Jaemin pulled her down, and they began to make love. Twenty minutes later, he came inside her a third time. The past twenty-four hours had included several of the most memorable sexual experiences of his life.

*****

When Sarah returned home weeks after she left, she was greeted with a violent hug. Her friend had genuinely missed her, and couldn't wait to hear all about the trip. She still considered Sarah crazy for what she had done, but could tell in an instant that it had been good for her.

Sarah was incredibly happy. She had done something amazing all by herself, worked hard for a dream and achieved it. Even if she had never met Jaemin in person, the trip itself was a major step toward a new phase of her life.

Jaemin had been a huge bonus. Not only did she now have his personal phone number saved, but their night together was an amazing memory. It was the first time in her life Sarah was with a man because she truly wanted to, and one that had treated her like a human rather than an object.

The two kept in touch over the years, but as friends and nothing more. Maybe they'd meet again in person – God knows Jaemin wanted to, on days when he felt particularly horny – but they didn't need to. Their shared memories were enough to make their lives a little better.

For Jaemin, the meeting was something extraordinary, and it changed him as a person. He didn't think of it as that time he had sex with a fan, but as a night that changed his outlook on life. Sarah meant something to him far beyond the physical attraction. He cared deeply about her. It was the first and only time he shared his insecurities with someone who wasn't a member or his family, and he felt that their meeting had helped her too.

Sarah was a stranger who quickly became a new friend. She gave him a fresh, modest view of humanity, and touched his heart in more ways than one.

Even if he'd never see her again he would remember her forever. There was no way he could forger the girl with the troubled past.

#smut #nct #nct smut #nct dirty #kpop smut #nct dream #smut writing #nct jaemin smut #nct jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin nct dream #jaemin nct

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jev-urisk · 6 months ago

Text

Morreial's heist supplies: Tag Game ✨️

Original game by @thecomfywriter (Post HERE). Thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet!

Premise: Write your OC using these tools (from Ch. 18 of Throne of Vengeance) to commit a heist involving an armored vault. A piece of string, a lantern, oil, matches, a book, a cup, an enchanted shovel, and a pair of gloves. And, a navy blue Henley

Love, LOVE this prompt. It's perfect for Kazimier💋, my shapeshifting incubus OC from my WIP 🌐7 Circles🌐

It's kinda spoiler-y, because it goes over some of Kazimier's abilities and really shows the kind of bastard he is. You've been warned.

Tonight is your final meeting with this criminal. Kazimier smirks behind his drink, an appraising glint in his mismatched eyes. "You wanna know how I did it?" he teases. He knew you did, but wanted to hear you say it anyway.

"How did you steal it?"

He leans back, swirling his glass. "So the safe in this fancy hotel was owned by a Nexi couple, right? They shipped the damn thing down from Nexis years ago an' had it installed in their always-booked penthouse suite. I woulda' sacked it a decade ago but this safe has an arcane lock, capisce?"

You shake your head no, and he rolls his eyes.

"Magic technology, unpickable. An' the only way to open this particular lock is to touch their wedding rings to this weird circle on the front, yeah? So the first thing I do is track down a mediocre fairy lantern replica."

"Wait, what?" you can help uttering, and it earns you a scoff.

"What? It's not like faeries are real, an' if they were they'd appreciate how stupid some folks are over their alleged arda'facts. The husband was one such stupid folk, and after broadcastin' that someone on the black market found a new lantern, a few fake death threats, and a well-placed comment made by a poker dealer- I got him to agree to a meeting in a car. One of them fancy Nexi ones that comes with a driver an' I made sure the person at the wheel is one on my payroll. I arrive as a representative of the auction house, shapeshifted to look like a vampiress."

"Wait, so you-"

"Had tits, yes. Along with long brown hair, skinny ankles, and a pencil skirt shorter than your attention span."

You grimace, "I wasn't going to ask about you having, uh.."

"-AAAnnyway, the moment I set down my briefcase bag it starts leakin' a sleeping gas and I keep him distracted. Soon enough he's out like a light and I crack open the hollowed out copy of 'Auctions Uncatalogued: A Dry Fuckin' History Book' for a few supplies. I knew he was a thicc bastard, so I came prepared with some oil and string to get the ring off, as well as gloves to keep the guy's taste outta my brain."

"What does that mean??"

"I'm not gonna explain how to get little rings offa big fingers, bud. Ask the internet. OH, I also filched his shirt- a blue henley kinda' thing, and his slacks. The car keeps movin' and I use his weird-Nexi-phone to call his broad, who is very occupied in some high-stakes gambling and tell 'er using her husband's voice that I need her ring to make an exchange of some Nexan technology in the safe for the super legit fairy lamp some vampire just showed me. I shapeshift into the husband, put on his clothes, and am in and out of the casino without the broad suspecting a thing. She hands me the ring, I complain bitterly about her not spendin' enough time with me, she tells me not now and goes back to her gambling. Perfect marriage. An hour later I've exchanged their top-grade arcane technology for a dinky old lamp and am waitin' around for the wife to show up." Kazimier finishes, quirking his brow as he drinks some of his cocktail.

After a few moments it seems like he;s truly done, but it might be another instance of him leading you to egg him on. "Well what happened when the wife showed up?" you ask, hooked despite yourself.

Kazimier's grin widens, "She found a brown-haired vampress in her penthouse wearing nothing but her husbands blue henley." He takes in your expression and keeps going, "The broad probably would've killed me if I didn't 'confess' that her husband had just left for the bar in the lobby with the other girl. Boy did that lie get her back out the door in an instant. From there I put a little oil in a glass cup, light it with a match, an' drop the little moltov offa' the balcony. A signal to get in position. I count to sixty and jump off myself- make my getaway."

You lean back, taking in the convoluted mind you're sitting with tonight, somewhat stunned. "Wait- Why did you need to borrow my enchanted shovel, then?" you add, happy that it was returned to you clean and unharmed the moment you sat down but curious since Kazimier said it was needed for this heist.

"Oh, that? I killed the husband." Kazimier says with a casual shrug.

"You used my shovel to bury a Nexan?!" you hiss, leaning forward. This wasn't what you expected at all when Kazimier offered you a deal.

Kazimier leans forward, all the humor gone from his face, only the tilt of his head hinting at his amusement. "I used your very unique shovel to kill, a Nexan, sunshine." He kills his drink and with a parting chuckle you and your shovel are left behind, tools that have fulfilled their use and you realize with ice in your blood why Kazimier just told you everything.

Tonight is your final meeting with this criminal.

Taggames: Taggames: @katenewmanwrites @smellyrottentrees @wyked-ao3 @lychhiker-writes @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @urbiggestfan-01 @quillswriting @tragedycoded

#darksouls 'you died' flashes across the screen #7 circles #7c kazi #tag game #this one was a lot of fun #original fiction #urban fantasy #writers on tumblr #short story #creative writing #writing prompt #writing inspiration #oc #shapeshifter #be gay do crimes

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mamasplat · 4 months ago

Note

Love your Serena/Calem reads and HCs. Its awesome to see this ship still kicking. Got me wondering though - how do you picture these dorks confessing their feelings to each other for the first time?

Do forgive my delay, I had to hastily write this out while helping my sister with her wedding preparations.

It would be post-postgame. Calem taking on the looker storyline as Serena takes her title of champion. They’d start sleeping in call together to remedy the teenage ptsd of team flare.

It wouldn’t be anything big, a slowburn of self doubt regarding if she even meant what she said.

Slowly but surely they’d become a hidden item.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Feelings brew, spite, pity, resentment…

All par the course in rivalry.

Malva planted the first prominent seed, going on about Hotel Richissime and its reputation, raising affections. Seated on the loveseat of her own suite after a demanding battle.

Serena hardly even questioned why that woman called her there, let alone Calem’s presence beyond momentary surprise.

She hadn’t seen him in weeks…

Being champion made it hard, busy busy and more busy.

The last time she had seen him…Kiloude City wasn’t it?

Fainted, fallen, tried so hard to keep on his feet. He removed the small marble like stone and recalled his absol. Such a brave face he put up. Tightening his jaw, choking back a long sigh at another loss. He almost had it….

Almost.

She recalled in tandem, smiling as adrenaline left her practically buzzing. Steps taken, distance fading, he extended his hand. Rolling the stone into her own.

A single Absolite, his only keystone to match the mega stone he struggled to obtain. She rolls it back into his. Closing her hands around his to ensure it stayed.

His brows knit as he tries in vain to protest “I lost.” He wagered it. Some…final hurrah. Failed…horribly-

“And I never accepted your wager.”

Maybe that’s why she was so comfortable to call him when the damage haunted her restless nights. Letting the dial tone play…expecting no reply. Forgetting the insomniac he was.

He answered, a fuzzy hologram booting to life; his form hard to register with the pillow that covered half the holocasters censer. Just eye bags and ruffled hair.

“Oh you’re awake-”

“Yeah, you called. Why are you?”

His blunt affliction always seemed to carry an unintentional bite, she was more than used to it.

Her end of the call rang with an awkward “ummm” for far too long, bundled and rolled into blankets like a newly formed Swadloon.

He came more into focus as he sat up, clicking on his lamp.

“Nevermind, I don't need the details.” an act of mercy. “I wasn’t going to bed anytime soon.”

And then it became a habit.

Day by day.

Week by week.

She started only when she needed a distraction, horrible memories ringing like church bells; loud and larger than life.

Then she’d call out of habit, he was glad to see her happier.

Then it would be premature, something she looked forward to, calling him as she brushed her teeth before she crashed into her mattress. Telling him all the things that kept them from speaking face to face.

Interviews, challengers, photos, media, being mentored by Diantha- it’s all surreal.

“I could never handle all that…”

An earnest admission.

“What? Not gonna come for my title next season?”

The Kalos region did gym challenges all year round, but the championship title was something much more sacred. After all it’s a full time job, you can’t take back to back challengers all the time- you’ll burn out.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He snapped back like a rubber band. She can’t help but laugh.

“There you are! Don’t get all sappy on me like that.” Something he had started to do far too often since she took her title.

They’d talk till her voice slurred into silence, he’d stay till she woke if he wasn’t asleep himself.

Sometimes she’d wake up in the middle of the night.

Shifting sheet’s breaking silence.

He’d turn his attention off of an unorganized TM case, turning to see her toss and turn.

Sitting up groggy.

Blinking, once, twice.

Scrunching up, confused.

Then recognizing the holocaster as just that, a hologram.

“You’re still awake?”

“Yeah..?”

“It’s….” She checked the clock “…2:25 AM..??”

“Which is why you should go back to bed.”

“Hey hey, you can’t send me back to bed just because you’re up past your bedtime and got caught-”

Her tone made it clear she was in no position to truly argue, but she’d still chastise him like he was a child- he scoffs.

“I don’t have a bedtime, but you have an early morning tomorrow.”

She always did.

“Meh.” She spat, making a limp motion with her hand to wave him off. “I’m going to use the bathroom, stay put.”

“…”

“Serena I can’t move-”

And she’s up, leaving.

He shakes his head, going back to his mindless self assigned task.

Water, fire, grass…..

Pile the disks, slip them into the plastic, repeat. Type by type. One by one.

It made more sense than to organize them by number, he searched for moves via type and effects- place a few color coded sticky notes and he could do both.

He hadn’t even noticed her return till her bed creaked on the other end.

“Is this all you do at night?” She spoke, hardly holding onto consciousness.

“Hm..?”

“Watch me sleep and play with TM disks?”

“I don’t watch you sleep-” He tries to correct.

“That’s kinda boring isn’t it?” She doesn’t pay his defense any mind.

He sighs, looking to his sleep deprived neighbor.

“It’s productive, i hardly have time to clean now that I’m working with Emma and training.”

“Right, detective thing…” her words trail into a mumble, “so is she…she uh…how is…”

“Goodnight Serena.”

“Goodnight,” relieved to be released from the confines of sleepy small talk “love you…”

He paused-

Perhaps it's muttered by habit, something she’s simply used to saying. Even if she’s never said it to him specifically. He doesn’t know why he soaked it in as much as he did, letting it ding around his head.

“Love you too.”

It would be rude to leave her hanging.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

#I should post these inbox prompts to ao3 soon #fanfiction related #dabble #rival calem #trainer serena #kalosshipping #anon ask #fanficion

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yayforocs · 11 months ago

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felt awkward to tack this on the prev post so i'm,.,,,,,,,,, here

but!! i'm not just gonna like Make An OC and then only ever have one drawing and a small blurb about them and then just never acknowledge them again, no!! i gotta properly doodle and figure things about about the character and Make Them A Proper Character!!! so i doodled more of aron's helsmet :VVV

and then also. wrote about aron's helsmet. to feel out the character and explore around how she and her person interact with and feel about each other :VVVVV

Posting the one-shot under the cut!!!

It had been a good hour and a half of solid work when the redstoner, hunched over a worktable with bits and bobs in hand, realized she didn't have enough redstone to finish what she'd wanted to get done for the day. She bit back an irritated sigh, and opted to check the drawers under her work table. None there, just like there was none in her backup storage on the other side of the room, just like there was none in her inventory. She let the sigh loose as she slumped into her chair, and ran her hand down her face. Her eyes glanced to the project currently taking up her free time: while right now it was a mess of metal and circuitry, one day it was going to be a pair of glider wings. Gods and saints knew she wasn't ever going to get her hands on any elytra or her counterpart's wings, so she knew she'd have to make them on her own if she wanted them. This did mean, however, a visit that she didn't want to bother with, ever, preferably. But she couldn't afford to pay anyone else to make any sort of supply runs for her, and wasn't sure she'd even want to anyway- she felt ripped off last time she'd tried that.

Resigned, she pushed herself up to standing, and started rummaging around in her chests for supplies. Pickaxes, armor, torches, sword, anything she needed for a run. Several minutes later, she stood with a ready inventory in the middle of the room, hands on her hips as she let her eyes wander over everything. ...And keep wandering over everything.

Hels help her, she did not want to go.

But she rolled her eyes at her own stupid procrastination, and looked to the nearest light source- currently her lamp on the desk- and focused. And briefly, inexplicably, she felt traces of warmth on her skin as from the sun, and could swear a faint breeze barely rustled her hair as she caught a slight whiff of something fresh and green and growing. Trees. A forest.

Better put her armor on first, then. Feather falling would only help so much, but better than nothing. And besides, her other's competence in flying would be enough to keep them from crashing too hard, she was confident in that much. She buckled the boots on with a grim smirk.

At least she'd get to have fun with it.

Enchantment on, she again focused on the light, mentally preparing to act fast as soon as she was over. The light, and slowly, everything else in the room, fuzzed into white as she tipped over the precipice of spatial travel, and went into freefall. Her stomach flipped as new surroundings blinked into view, namely open sky, and her hand shot out and grabbed at the green blur in her peripheral.

"Ack-!"

She'd caught hold, and the two spun out.

"What are-?!"

The world somehow righted, and she silently gripped the harness strap she'd managed to nab as they awkwardly stilted through the trees down to the ground. It wasn't as hard of a landing as she'd hoped- they still both stumbled around each other and ended up on their knees at the end of it- but she'd take what she could get.

"What was that for?" her other, Aron, asked, breathless.

She didn't answer, instead looking around at their surroundings. Should be something decent nearby. She set off in a direction.

"Hey, wait wait wait-!" Aron called, jogging to catch up. "Nice to see you, too," she said sarcastically, and was again met with silence. It stuck for a second or two before Aron started again. "Really, though, like- I could feel when you were about to- I can get down to the ground before you do that, probably, just like- can you wait next time, maybe?"

"I know you can," she responded, but otherwise didn't answer.

Aron made a flabbergasted noise. "Then why- we could've both been hurt! Or respawned!"

She just shrugged.

There was the start of a reply behind her, and then it cut off with a sigh.

They walked in silence for a second.

"...So what are you doing?"

"Why d'you need to know?"

"I dunno, it's- I mean, if- I could help you with something."

She'd just tried to- why would- ugh. This was why she didn't like her. Always tried to kiss up to everyone.

Or kiss up to her, at least. Absolutely useless gesture.

"I'm gettin’ materials, if you really have to know. And no, I don't need you to come with. What part of I Tried To Take Us Both Out Of The Sky made you think I'd want help?"

The steps behind her stopped, and she relaxed a little- but then they started up again.

"Well, it's- it's just dangerous in the caves and such by yourself, so... You prob'ly should have help, y'know? Besides, I uh... I was going to get materials, too."

Great.

Perfect.

Wonderful.

...And yet, she had to acknowledge one of Aron's points. Caving was dangerous on your own, particularly when you were still unaccustomed to all of the dangers this world was only too keen to provide. Having a second person... could be useful, she supposed.

She sighed.

"Fine. Anything happens to me, I'm gonna blame you."

“Ok! Um, that- that works, you can do that. Uh… the cave I was gonna go to was over there.” She assumed Aron pointed, and a glance back showed she did, off to the left. “I’d marked it the other day, but I never went in to check it out properly. We could…?”

Well, it’d be quicker than trying to find one on her own. She pivoted, and quietly snerked when Aron just about ran into her.

She heard Aron take in a breath, but didn’t find out if she was going to comment on the pivot or the laugh because she apparently thought better of it and didn't say anything at all.

—-----

Surprisingly, Aron was fairly quiet for the trip to the cave- and even when they arrived, she was still quiet aside from the occasional callout- she needed the coal here, the iron over there would be good, she’ll grab this gravel real quick to try for flint later. It was something she reciprocated, if only for sake of not losing each other.

It was… weird.

And nice.

It almost felt like she was alone, really, but without the worries of having to constantly watch her back. She kept an eye on the front, and Aron faithfully kept up the rear.

At one point, they found a huge dripstone cavern. Even upon first glance it was clear there was a lot of loot to be had- and mobs to clear out. Aron provided a water bucket for a safe decent.

She noticed Aron didn’t use her wings to get down, instead going down the water after her.

She wasn’t sure whether she was insulted or not.

“If you don’t mind me asking, um- what’re you getting materials for?”

And there it was. Asked with the worst timing, as well, because they were reaching the bottom.

So all she answered with was, “Mobs,” and pulled her sword and shield out, to which Aron awkwardly conceded and pulled out her own weapon.

The blessed lack of conversation resumed as they circled out from their drop point, throwing down torches and clearing out what they could.

But no good thing lasts forever, and when no mobs were in sight, Aron brought it up again.

“So- since they’re all gone, what uh- what’re the materials for?”

“I’m makin’ a giant bomb to drop off at your base next time I visit.”

“I- sorry, what?” Aron squeaked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Bein’ facetious. It’s a personal project. Not for you.”

“...Oh.”

Silence, only broken by a faint skeleton’s clatter that was too far off to bother with. She spotted some iron and opened her mouth to call it, but Aron spoke first.

“Oh, hey, uh- there’s some uh- there’s some gold up there.” Aron pointed to a crevice, and they both set off towards it. She’d get the iron after.

“...Um, also, I know you don’t want- me to call you… my name.” Oh hels, this again. “But it’s… kinda weird to just like- ‘hey’ at you, y’know? Um. Is there anything that uh… you’d like to be called?”

Truth be told, this was something that’d stuck with her the last time they’d had this discussion and though, at the time, she gave no answer at all and made sure to be plenty rude about it, she’d mulled it over a bit. Eventually, she did come up with something, though it was a tad on-the-nose.

It was just Aron in reverse. Nora. Simple, but it seemed fitting, all things considered.

But she didn’t want Aron to ever call her that, let alone call her any sort of consistent name ever, so she didn’t say anything about wanting to be called Nora.

“No.”

“Like… not even a nickname, or anything…?”

“Nah. Keep ‘hey’ing me all you want. Or… um- something. Don’t call me anything. No names.” Nora reached the gold first. Aron let her have them, apparently stumped by her answer. Or stunned, either way. “Saw some iron back there,” she said after grabbing the grand total of two pieces of gold ore, and started back towards it without checking if she was being followed. The footsteps behind her told her she didn’t need to. As she walked, she looked to the side- and down. There was a whole other level to the cavern below them, and she was already attempting to take stock of what there was down there. It was really dark, so she couldn’t hardly see anything, but she thought she might could make out some redstone in the wall closer to the top.

Finally.

Clattering bones sounded again suddenly, much closer than they had been before, and she turned just in time to get an arrow to her shoulder. She gasped, hand darting to it as she stumbled back from the hit- and then all air escaped her lungs as she slipped right off the edge and plummeted. Air whistled past her ears as she somehow managed to wriggle herself to face the ground, desperately trying to get her water bucket out despite the fact that she’d never actually had to clutch before and didn’t even know if she could but she was falling too fast and couldn’t wrestle the darn thing out in time and

She jerked as her momentum was suddenly swooped to the side. Nora wheezed, the pull stretching her coveralls tight against her throat, but as they slowed to a stop in the near pitch-black, she decided she did at least prefer that to dying and having to come back again later. Aron settled them against the ground smoothly, making sure Nora was on her feet before clicking her wings back into place.

“Are you-” Groans started filling the cavern. “Right-! Right, shelter first, right yes, um-” Nora screwed her eyes shut as Aron threw a torch down, the light blinding on eyes that had been attempting to adjust. “UhhHH over here!” Aron grabbed at Nora’s wrist, but she jerked it away. Aron halted awkwardly, and glanced up, making eye contact.

Nora couldn’t even come up with anything to say, and upon realizing she didn’t have time to anyways, shouldered past Aron (on her good side, of course) and stalked towards the wall behind her. Probably, hopefully, where Aron had been planning on going anyway. She pulled out a pickaxe and slammed it into the wall, biting back a yelp as it jarred her hurt shoulder. Once her other joined her they made quick work of digging out an alcove and quickly dropping materials in front to block them in. This time, Nora already had her eyes shut when Aron stuck a torch down in the small space. Eyes still closed, she leaned back against the wall, this time wincing, and slid down it, a now emptied hand going back to her shoulder. The arrow was still in it.

“Do you need-”

“I don’t have any potions on me.”

“-Ah. I think I do, um…” Aron started digging in her bag, and after a second, triumphantly pulled out two. “Ah! I do! Um, here, I can-”

“Just give it,” Nora hissed, jerking forwards and snatching one out of Aron’s hand- and Aron flinched back, breath hitching for just a moment. Nora purposefully wasn’t looking at her, and wasn’t watching out of the corner of her eye as she tried to tear the cork out with her teeth, and definitely didn’t notice the solid second it took for Aron’s shoulders to- possibly forcefully- relax.

Except she definitely was and did, and puffed out a breath through her nose at Aron’s reaction. Good. She needed to keep Aron on her toes anyway. Or something like that.

If only the stupid bottle would-

“Um. …here,” Aron said quietly, holding out the other bottle. She’d already pulled the cork out. Nora paused, fixing her eyes on the bottle. After a second, she put the one she’d been wrestling one-handed in her pocket and took the offered one. And then promptly downed it, and before she could second-guess what she was doing, she grabbed the arrow and yanked it out as hard as she could- and it hurt.

But she wasn’t going to cry- not here, not in front of Aron, not while the healing potion was already making her want to scratch her whole shoulder clean off, not while she was gripping it in iron fingers with eyes scrunched and teeth bared and backed against the wall.

And then it was over, and she was fine.

She was fine.

Slowly, she took a breath, and then another, eyes still shut, head tilting back against the wall.

She didn’t want to have to acknowledge literally anything that happened in the past two minutes.

She didn’t want to acknowledge how stupid it had been to walk that close to the edge, didn’t want to acknowledge Aron swooping in, didn’t want to acknowledge the potions, Aron's reaction, none of it. At all.

Aron probably wouldn’t let her not acknowledge it in some form or fashion, but she still had the two of them sit in silence for as long as Aron could stand it.

…Which turned out to be a lot longer than Nora thought it would be. The silence stretched on, slowly becoming thick with awkward air that apparently neither wanted to address.

“Oh.”

Nora glanced up at the hushed statement. Aron was staring at the wall. Nora’s eyes followed the line of sight.

Embedded in the wall right above her head was redstone ore.

“Oh,” she echoed.

They stared at the redstone.

And then with a sigh, Nora pushed herself up, and then pulled her pickaxe out.

It turned out to be a decent-sized vein. Still not as much as she wanted, but at least it was something to work with. She could pull out now if she wanted to.

She glanced back at the torch.

…She didn’t want to have to come back for a while. She took in a breath, and looked over at Aron.

“I need more.”

Aron nodded, and then pushed herself up as well. After a moment, they broke the wall down and began clearing out mobs.

—-----

Too much time passed before Nora blinked back into her home. Aron had tried to say a goodbye once she realized Nora was leaving, though she hadn’t managed to get it out quick enough. But it was enough that Nora could tell what she was trying to say.

She wandered into her workroom, and looked around.

Despite her looking at everything in the room, she wasn’t really seeing it all, almost looking past the room as her mind sat and dwelled.

She really shouldn’t have accepted the help in the first place. She knew it was good that she did, in the end, and she knew she would have been in a lot worse of a spot if she hadn’t, and things would have been a lot more frustrating in different ways, but.

No matter how much she tried.

No matter how much she tried, Aron still tried harder. And it was so frustrating, because it was working.

Everything, everything- from the open lack of hostility despite everything Nora threw at her or didn’t, despite Nora trying to take them both down from the get-go, despite the words and the pushing and the anger- Aron still tried.

And the kicker was that it was genuine. Aron could be a tad idiotic going about it, but the genuine friendly intent was still there.

Nora inhaled for a long second, and then released slowly.

She walked to her desk, and pulled redstone out of her inventory, then paused when something shifted against her leg.

Her hand dug in her pocket, and pulled out the other health potion.

…This was why she didn’t like her.

Because even though she grabbed her mid-flight, she knew they wouldn’t crash.

Because even though she was rude, Aron wanted to help.

Because even though she shouldn’t, Aron wanted a name to call her by.

Because even though the universe pitted them against each other, Aron cared too much to let her fall.

Because even if their positions were swapped, Nora would have done the same.

Because even though Aron startling was good, she still felt guilty about scaring her.

She didn't like her because no matter how hard she tried not to, she did anyway.

Nora stared at the health potion.

She put it down.

She took a breath.

She got to work.

#redstone and skulk #👉👈#helsmit oc #nora #aron #writing #good night it felt really weird tho to write aron from an outside perspective

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lisbeth-kk · 1 year ago

Text

Magical wardrobes

Sherlock fandom. Rosie's in for quite a surprise.

As per usual there are lots of cooing over how big Rosie’s gotten when the Holmes-Watsons arrive at Sherlock’s parents.

“For pity’s sake, mummy. You saw her last month. It’s not like she grows like that now that she’s nine years old,” Sherlock huffs.

Before John gets a chance to scold Sherlock, his mother glares at her youngest son with the infamous Mummy look, and Sherlock shuts his mouth.

“Grandpa and I have a surprise for you,” Mrs. Holmes tells Rosie. “Come upstairs.”

John and Sherlock follow the elderly Holmes’s and Rosie, and they smile at each other when they hear Rosie’s excited scream.

“Do you know anything about this?” John asks his husband.

“Me? Not a clue, John,” Sherlock lies effortlessly.

“Thought as much,” John says, knowing fully that Sherlock’s taking the piss.

Rosie’s eyes are wide and beaming when she turns to face her fathers. John is utterly surprised as he takes in the room. The dark oak beams on the ceiling, make the room look intimate. Emerald green wallpaper covers all the walls, the floorboards have the same hue as the beams. In the middle of the room is a four-poster bed with golden curtains. A gigantic bookshelf is placed on one wall, a chest of drawers on the other, but what Rosie’s most thrilled about is the wardrobe.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John mutters under his breath.

Strong arms envelopes him from behind and Sherlock’s curls tickle his cheek when the owner of said curls bends down to John’s ear.

“It took Father and me eight weeks to finish, with a little help from a local carpenter and a skilled artist,” Sherlock whispers. “Just wait until she opens it.”

John turns his head to ghost his lips over Sherlock’s.

“Has anyone told you how amazing you are?” John murmurs, his lips just millimetres from Sherlock’s.

“Once or twice,” Sherlock admits cheekily, kissing John soundly, before entangling himself.

He moves toward Rosie and crouches down in front of her and takes her small hand in his large one.

“Do you want to open it, petal?” Sherlock asks softly.

John must swallow hard when he hears Sherlock using the pet name on Rosie. At home, he only uses her name or Bee, but here in his parents’ house, he tends to call her “flower” or “petal”. It always takes John by surprise and makes him rather emotional.

Rosie looks seriously at Sherlock and nods. She walks over to the grand wardrobe, lifts her hand to the doorknob, then hesitates and turns to the four people looking expectantly at her.

“Go on, dear,” Mr. Holmes urges her.

Rosie bites her lip, and John understands that he needs to step in. His little girl is nervous, and probably afraid to get disappointed of what hides behind those doors.

All of them, including Mrs. Hudson, Molly, even Mycroft, have read “The chronicles of Narnia” to her over the last year. This room is so like the one in the books, and being the daughter of the scientist, Sherlock Holmes and having Mycroft as an uncle, explains her uncertainty now. They’ve made it quite clear that all of it is fiction, written to entertain, not to be compared with her subject books from school.

“Let’s do it together, love,” John whispers and takes Rosie’s hand.

She looks up at him with relief written all over her face, and the lump in John’s throat makes a re-appearance. A familiar hand is placed on the small of John’s back, another on Rosie’s head.

“Ready, Watsons?” Sherlock rumbles affectionately.

Rosie’s about to complain about leaving the Holmes name out, but John nudges her forward.

Neither of them is prepared for what’s been hiding behind the wooden doors. There’s a small recess in the back of the wardrobe. The wall is painted just like the winter landscape from Narnia, with the lamp post and snow-covered pine trees. A yellow armchair, a tea set placed on a small table, a floor lamp and a colourful rug are filling the recess perfectly.

Rosie lets go of John’s hand and walks over to the tableau, stroking her hands and fingers over the surfaces. She seems to be in a trance, totally unaware of the others present.

John turns to Sherlock and hugs him fiercely. Sherlock wraps his arms around him, kissing his hair.

“It’s perfect,” John murmurs against Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock hums in agreement and they both look over at their daughter, now trying out the armchair.

“How do you like it, dear,” Mrs. Holmes asks, breaking the silence.

Rosie blinks at her. She’s clearly been so engrossed in her own little universe, forgetting all about the outer world.

“I love it!” she exclaims. “Obviously,” she adds under her breath, making Sherlock chuckle quietly, and within moments they’re all laughing heartily.

The Narnia universe was one of my favourites as a child, and it was the first to come to mind when the prompt was revealed. I would've loved to have something similar back then...

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @safedistancefrombeingsmart @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @missdeliadili

#flash fic friday #flash fiction #sherlock fandom #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #john watson #sherlock's parents #parentlock with rosie

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trashlama · 2 years ago

Note

Maybe hcs on yandere rise Donnie in a romantic way who falls for big mama assistant who praises his work ~

Donnie knows it’s wrong , but as Mikey always says the heart wants what it wants

Which leaves to Leo and Raph to kindly tell him he’s being rash , ridiculous, not thinking clearly she’s working for the enemy, she gonna end up using you .

Donnie doesn’t care tho , doesn’t he deserve to be happy , rewarded for saving New York , the world countless of times !

Reader better prepared herself there’s a storm coming , one she not prepared for ~ 😈

Donatello x Big Mama Assistant Reader? I gotcha ya'

At this point in the game Donatello is pretty used to people trying to take advantage of him. Purple Dragons, Big Mama, Master Splinter— basically anyone who throws the dude a compliment because they want to take advantage of him for his tech.

He's weak for that ✨praise✨

Despite being a genius intellectually, emotionally Donatello is easily manipulated into doing things. Like with the Purple Dragons and Master Splinter Donnie is eager to impress those he wants respect/praise from. Believing that if he gives/shows them how great he— his tech is they'll stay. They'll need him. Even if it's not exactly for him. As we find out in Donnie vs. Witch Town.

Praise is Donnie's form of reassurance that he is valued. Needed. To him aside from his tech he believes he doesn't bring anything to the team.

Soooo Donnie crushing hard for one of Big Mama's assistants because they compliment him? Sure I can see that.

Especially if you're literally just feeding his ego so you can retrieve some Intel for Big Mama to use against the Mad Dog's/or to her own personal advantage. Though I guess what you gotta be careful about is what happens when you ghost a turtle who is obsessed with you? Well you might just need to find out.

Sorry if it's a little OOC-ish, I rewrote this like ten times, initially with just head cannons, and then a one shot draft(several). Buuutt I kinda hated all of them sooo I posted the one I liked the most.

Probably should've re-read this more but I got work in the morning...

This takes places some months after the movie. Also check out the author's notes at the end for more!

I hope you guys enjoy it!

++++++++++++++

Fuck maybe Raph and Leo were right....

This might've been a bad idea...

Donatello was a prideful turtle. He didn't like admitting when he was wrong but, in this case scenario standing here under the beating lamps of Big Mama's Battle Nexus arena ten rounds into a seemingly endless fight. Donatello was starting to have second thoughts about his choice of just strolling up to the New Grand Nexus Hotel and negotiating with Big Mama. Somehow he should've anticipated this outcome. The jorogumo is notorious for adding twists to her deals. Especially when it came to her Battle Nexus. Nothing is as it seems with that british demon lady.

However somehow despite every rational bone screaming in his body to call off this arrangement, the possessive creature caged between his ribs refused. It wanted You. Donatello wanted You. The Yuki-Onna who strolled into the mutant's life all those months ago and infected his brain with your spoonfuls of honey coated poison.

The yokai who sang songs of praise and adoration that hypnotized the purple coded Hamato. Transfixed Donnie gave it all. Anything you asked for. It was yours, just don't abandon him.

Immediately Raph and Leo were on his case about the matter. Preaching about how he was just going to get used and dumped to the curb.

Mikey wouldn't say anything.

Donatello knew Mikey wanted to defend his brother's blossoming interest in love but, in those warm grey eyes it reflected back the youngest Hamato's inability to support this. It wasn't healthy. Donatello didn't need Doctor Feelings to tell him such. But he didn't care. Not until out of the blue you start ghosting the softshell. Long story short— he's devastated.

All together your calls, messages, surprise visits stopped. For weeks there wasn't a sign from you and the lack of (Y/n) time was causing Donnie to go through remission. Like a junkie without a fix the softshell was losing his mind. Everywhere he searched at all hours. Day, night, anytime that his brothers weren't there to stop him from pursuing you. During your extended absence both his father and siblings would go on about how this was a good thing for him. Meanwhile Donatello felt like his world was falling to pieces. Patience chipped away every day he couldn't find you. Before the techno turtle knew it, half a month had passed and he found himself standing in the New Grand Nexus Hotel lobby requesting a meeting with Big Mama.

That's why he was here. To get you back. This is your fault that he's this way. Donatello was just a man of science before you came along and muddled up his rational brain. Now the purple clad Hamato was gonna make sure that you pay for it.

Standing tall once more the sound of the crowd and the stadium's intercom speaking finally broke through the ringing that was leftover from the previous match. Allowing the mutant genius to finally tune into Big Mama's message that was being broadcasted.

"—Ahhh my good patrons~ For our last-aroo match of the tourna-warna-ment we have a special guest star instead of the champion we had originally set.... Give her a warm welcome back everyone! (Y/n), The Snow-woman!~ " the eight-legged Battle Nexus owner announced cheerfully. The projection was cut not a moment later and presented on the opposite side of the arena before the Mad Dog was you.

The (h/c) woman looked just the way she did the day the yokai had sang goodbye for the last time. Pressed white kimono and cold (e/c) eyes. Not sparing a single look to the commotion from the crowd behind her. That deadly gaze was locked on him. Beautiful.

Had not been for the agreement that Donatello had struck up with the British spider demon Donatello would've just stolen you away right then and there.

Like the fog they pumped in for your dramatic grand entrance you glided down the champion runway. Not at all inhibited by the fickle geta you used to complain about. Time slowing down for Donatello the closer you crept towards the ring.

Once locked inside with him Donatello could feel a switch flip inside of him. At first he was so happy that you were actually here and not some false advertisement promoted by Big Mama to lure the softshell turtle into her Battle Nexus. Though as soon as the endorphins left his system the mutant's veins were flooded with a different kind of emotion. Possessive anger. How dare the snow demon just leave him like that. The Mad Dog had given her whatever she desired only for the woman to have the audacity to turn around and leave him after she ruined him like this. It's her fault the ninja turtle felt like this. The demon assistant needed to be held accountable.

Without warning catching the techie turtle off guard you bolted forward. Only allowing Donatello just a second to react in time to protect himself from the icicle blade that formed in your (Dominant hand) hand somewhere between your dramatic entrance and attack. Regardless of its origins, the elemental weapon held up against the thick metal of Donatello's tech-bo that he defended himself with. Not wasting any time the softshell shoved the Yuki-Onna off with his staff before returning the attack with some strikes of his own. From there the two of you traded blows.

Some length of time passed before you began to show obvious signs of fatigue. The combination of the heat radiating off the stadium's overhead lamps and the overexertion of your abilities weakened you enough that eventually all you had left to keep the purple clad Hamato away was the wave of ice that blew forth from your pouting blue tinted lips.

What a nuisance

Had you known all those months ago that you'd be back here in this damn Battle Nexus fighting for your freedom, you wouldn't have ever agreed to that seemingly straightforward task. Befriend the purple clad turtle, get some Intel on Baron Draxum(maybe more) and get out. Simple. Until it wasn't. Donatello was becoming too close, too demanding, too far gone in his own delusion of what he called love. So you dipped.

How ironic you left because you didn't want to deal with the turtle's possessive emotions only to end up fighting against said techie genius for your freedom. Damn Big Mama and her stupid whims. If you managed to win this match. You were for sure never going back to the eight legged entrepreneur. Didn't want to risk being placed in a similar situation like this again.

Rolling around all over the place like a RPG character in a boss fight Donatello manages to eventually draw closer to the defrosting Yuki-Onna. Timing it perfectly to slap a muzzle onto your mouth the sudden action catching you off guard causing you to stumble back. Clawing at the metallic restraint that retracted and locked around your jaw.

Seeing his opportunity Donatello knocks you down onto your ass before activating the electrical prongs in his tech-bo. In a swift move the mutant turtle held you down with his foot as he stabbed the ends of the built in taser into your stomach electrocuting you until your vision went dark.

The moment that it was declared the (h/c) haired woman was down for the count. From the surrounding stands a roar of excitement erupted within the colosseum all at once. The cheers of spectators barely drowned out only by Big Mama's announcement of the purple coded mutant's victory. Giddiness evident in the jorogumo's tone despite being out a helper.

However that was not what Donatello was concerned about.

Not wasting another second in hitting the button on his tech-bo allowing the contraption to retract into its small tubbing and to be put away. Leaving his three digit grasps open to scoop up his prize. Overwhelmed with finally having you in his grasp once again the purple coded Hamato completely forgets about his own battered state. Inky pools focused solely on the unconscious yokai that haunted his waking thoughts and dreams.

From behind him Donatello could hear the arrival of a group of footsteps. Standing up with your figure resting in his arms Donatello turns to face Big Mama as she struts towards your guy's battered figures. Two yokai bellhops following dutifully behind the spider demon boss.

" Fufufuh looks like some-bitty-body is a happy winner~ " the business woman teased as she approached. Stopping just in front of the two of you as she analyzed the scene with amusement.

" What a show! I'm soooo pleased that you were able to win dearie~ However there is still one little last itsy bitsy part of our deal you're forgetting~ " the spider demon chided playfully. Although her tone was its usual playfulness behind the lenses of her teal cat-eye frames the jorogumo held an impatient look.

"Oh how could I forget?" Donatello replied sarcastically as he released your legs holding you up against his plastron as his free hand reached back into his battle shell to grab his and your ticket out of this mad house.

" There. Everything I could find left over from Baron Draxum's lab that was salvageable " the softshell turtle said flatly as he threw the flashdrive towards the fox bellhop to the right of the Battle Nexus owner. The fox not wasting a second to handed the flashdrive over to it's boss.

"Splendid! Well~ you better get going young purple one. Yuki-Onna's don't respond well to heat and today is supposed to be terribly hot! Better hurry~" Big Mama warned whimsically as she began to walk away back towards the direction of her luxury skybox.

With that out of the way Donatello doesn't waste a second longer standing around in the middle of the Battle Nexus arena. Quickly the mad dog recollects your figure into his arms bridal style fleeing the Battle Nexus arena and hotel as quickly as possible.

Once out of the mob boss's reach back on the surface Donatello couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He made it, he found you. The creature caged in his chest was pleased. Content that he has you at his side once again and this time the purple clad softshell was gonna ensure things would be different. He wasn't gonna let you leave him in shambles again. He was gonna make sure you needed him as much as he needs you.

After all it was like what Mikey said:

"The heart wants what it wants"

And his wanted you even if your's didn't want him.

++++++++++++++++++++++

¶¶ Author's Notes ¶¶

Guys so as I was writing this I was thinking about how the Kraang could've affected Donatello and Raphael in the long run.

Like obviously PTSD but what I mean is like cray cray wise.

Like both Raph and Donnir had fused with the Kraang Hive mind in some form or another.( Raph mind controlled/possessed, Donnie mind melded )

I'm just saying there's gotta be some sort of side effects from that experience. Like having a harder time differentiate between reality and hallucinations. Or possibly maybe their brains chemistry has been fucked up making them more aggressive/possessive? Idk

I'm thinking about writing/or elaborating further on this in a future post. Yandere scenarios of course.

I just got a lot to write but, you guys know me. I'm all over the place~

Anyways thank you guys for bearing with me and my rabbling. I hope you guys have a great day!

Thank you for reading!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

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thiswasinevitableid · 2 years ago

Text

Strange Days (Indruck)

The winner of the mer and humans on land poll was: A lighthouse keeper who doesn’t believe mer are real

“You sure you don’t wanna keep him?” Duck stares at the Newfoundland on the steps of the lighthouse. The dog stares back disdainfully.

“Nah. Beacon’s a good dog, but my place ain’t big enough for him. Besides, it’s good to have one of those around in case you gotta rescue folks. Or you fall in.” Leo pats him on the back, “you’ll be fine. You got a good head on your shoulders.”

Duck thanks him and says his goodbyes as the former keeper gets on his horse and rides inland. Then he walks up the stairs into the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, where he’ll be the keeper until…

Well, until he gets tired of it or dies. Leo had been keeping it since 1880, and after twenty years decided to leave the Graveyard of the Atlantic for somewhere a bit less windswept.

After ten days of learning the ropes from Leo–and getting growled at and knocked into by Beacon–Duck prepares himself for his first night alone. Winnie, the mouser, meows at him from the steps of the staircase to the lamp.

“Yep, guess it’s just us three.”

“Mew.”

He stares up the spiraling iron walkway, “Wish I could say that suits me fine. But I’m a shit liar.”

“Bwoof”

“Coulda done without that agreement, Beacon.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“It’s just by the lighthouse. You can’t miss it.”

Indrid is glad Barclay gave him that detail when directing him to his new territory; the outer banks can bleed together after a while, and being relatively new to the whole area means he’d rather not make enemies by unintentionally stepping on someone’s tail.

He makes a full circuit of his new home, waving to Dani when she swims by on her way home. He can unpack his few belongings soon; it’s warm and calm enough this evening that he doesn’t feel like being cooped up.

Once on the surface, he floats on his back and soaks in the sun. In his old haunts he wouldn’t have been so bold; the Colds held territory near old whaling and fishing communities up north and as a result had made a lot of enemies by ripping holes in nets or tipping over boats. Showing his face as a mer would have meant someone trying to shoot him or catch him to sell to a sideshow, as Barclay calls them (he’s been reading human newspapers more lately).

But here, on a stretch where the only visible structure is the lighthouse and the beaches are empty, he feels no fear of being in the open. One of the selling points his friends made when talking him into moving south was that this patch of sea is dangerous for ships, but safe for those who can be beneath the waves. Which means fewer fish being chased off and fewer people trying to throw nets on him.

(Besides, since he can see the future, he has some chance of knowing when danger is coming).

He drifts and daydreams so long that the light is now beaming across the water. It transfixes him, and he climbs up onto a still-warm rock to better observe it. There must be a human in there, perhaps more. It seems a lonely location, even miserable if it becomes as story as they say. It must be a certain kind of human who is willing to take such a post.

Indrid knows it is good manners for both humans and mers to offer gifts when you move into a neighborhood. If he and this human are to live so close, perhaps he ought to make a gesture of goodwill.

Now if only he knew what to offer….

—-------------------------------------------------

Duck is walking the beach at the base of the lighthouse, not thinking of anything in particular, when a shine catches his eye. On a nearby, half-submerged, rock is a pile of silver. When he picks it up, it cascades to reveal a necklace studded with gems. There hasn’t been anyone on the beach all morning, and this was placed here. Not lost.

“Plus sometimes when you’re up there you get a glimpse of a mermaid.”

“Leo, I ain’t a kid. Or a sailor who’s gone too long without, uh, company. I don’t believe in mermaids.”

The older man smiles, “Keeping the light can change some things.”

There’s no mermaid leaving treasure from sunken ships for him to find. This was just tossed here by the waves.

He tucks it in his pocket; it’s not a bad start to a nest egg.

—-------------------------------------------

Indrid ducks back under the waves. The human liked his gift. And stranger still, Indrid rather liked watching that human, with his dark hair and round, friendly face, accept something Indrid had chosen for him.

If he leaves enough acceptable gifts from afar, perhaps the handsome creature will allow him to offer some in person.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

This is weird.

Two days ago, Duck found a massive Marlin, still alive, on the same rock where he found the necklace. Since he wasn’t lacking food, and felt kind of bad for it, he managed to toss it back into the sea.

Today, he’s found a basket of fresh oysters. The basket is green, almost like it was made by seagrass.

Once again, there’s been no one on the beach for more than a short stroll, let alone someone equipped with a boat to dive from.

Yeah, it’s strange alright. But he really likes shellfish. He can even cook them on the beach for lunch. Even if they’re probably washed off from a boat somewhere and definitely not left by a mermaid.

Three nights after the oysters, Duck is in the gallery, checking everything before the lamp is lit. In the sea below, a human face and chest emerge, watching the lighthouse. The man doesn’t seem to be in distress, and it’s calm enough today that there’s been a few swimmers.

That has to be what he is. Because Duck refuses to believe the silvery tail glinting in the sunset belongs to the swimmer. There’s no such thing as mermaids. But maybe he needs to request more books from town before his imagination completely gets away from him.

—------------------------

Indrid has just finished leaving clams for Duck when there’s a splash behind him.

“Damn it, Beacon, I told you, you don’t gotta fish people out if they’re just swimmin’!”

Indrid trills, failing to gain speed before a large mouth closes gently around his arm and begins dragging him onto the shore. The futures suggest that a struggle will lead to injury, and so he resigns himself to an undignified entrance.

The dog shakes himself off as the lighthouse keeper hurries down the beach.

“Sorry, uh, sir, he gets a little overeager when it comes to help….” The charming drawl peters out as the human notices his tail.

Indrid waves both that and his hand, “Hello. My name is Indrid. I am your seaward neighbor.” He pats the dog's head, “it is nice to formally meet you both.”

The human says nothing, just stares at Indrid’s tail with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“I brought some clams today, since you prefer shellfish to swimming ones.”

“....You’re a fuckin mermaid.” He murmurs. This close, Indrid can see one of his eyes is blue, the other brown.

“Just mer is fine. We come in a wider variety than man and maid.” He cocks his head, “are you alright?”

The human sits down in the sand, “Leo was right. Y’all are just swimmin around out there.”

Indrid shifts so he’s sitting rather than on his stomach, “My presence bothers you.”

“N-yeah-uh, I, I don’t feel, uh, fuck, strong one way or the other? Fuck.” The human removes his hat, brushing sand from the top, “Look, uh-”

“Indrid. And you are..Duck? An interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname. How you know it I got know clue. Look, Indrid, it ain’t personal. In fact you seem real friendly. But I spent my whole life trying to tell myself this kinda thing is just old wives tales. I feel all…outta sorts.”

“Ah. I see. I will leave you in peace. I know what it is like to feel as if you have unwanted company.”

“It ain’t even that. If I’m bein’ honest, I don’t mind company. I just need a little time to take it all in.”

“Shall I…come back tomorrow, then?”

“Sure. Just not too late, I gotta make sure I’m minding the light when I’m supposed to.”

“Very well. Just after that bell in town rings noon?”

“That works, yeah.”

“Should I bring clams or oysters?”

Duck meets his eyes with a bemused, but friendly, smile, “Wouldn’t say no to some snapper.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Can you hear it from there?” Duck calls out the window of the keepers cottage.

“Yes!” Indrid grins at him from the beach, then continues turning his catch—a massive flounder–humming as his silver tail gleams in the sunlight.

Satisfied that they’ll be able to pick up the second episode of The Outlaw on the radio while they eat an early dinner, Duck heads out to join him, two bottles of Coke in hand. Indrid adores sweet drinks, and if Duck could bring him a strawberry phosphate from town, he would.

Since Indrid became an undeniable element of his life, Duck has seen him almost every day for the last two months. And if he’s honest with himself (or with Winnie, who listens as he fusses over all this out loud), when he doesn’t see the mer for a day or more he gets worried that something has happened to him.

The Outlaws theme blares to life as Duck divvys up the fish. Usually the two of them will talk during dinner, but after the first minute of action Indrid’s focus is entirely on the radio, and he barely eats until the program is over. When the announcer says to tune in next week, the mer gives an indignant chir.

“But I wish to know what happens now. Will the sheriff simply ride off now that the outlaw has let him go? Or will he follow him into town? What if they never see each other again??”

Duck chuckles, “guessin they will, if only so they can make more episodes.”

“Promise you will let me listen again?”

“Of course, ‘Drid. I like your company. Pardner” he exaggerates his accent on the last word and Indrid laughs.

“You would make a very dashing lawman. I assume.”

Duck nudges his toes against Indrid’s tail “Thanks, but this life is plenty exciting for me.”

The mer goes silent for a moment, then he asks, “Duck? Why were you so bothered when you first knew of me? Is it because that is too much excitement?”

“Not exactly. I’ve had…weird stuff happen to me most of my life. Blue, glowing women turn up in my bedroom. There are lights in the sky near my hometown no one can explain. A friend of mine when on some scientific research trip and swears that something bit him and that he can’t remember what happens to him on the full moon. And all I ever wanted for myself was a quiet life. To do what made me happy without the fear of it all bein’ upended or dangerous. The weird shit always made me…nervous. Maybe that makes me a fool or coward but…I dunno.”

“I do not think it does.” Indrid moves closer, “I left home for the same reason. To not be looking over my shoulder all the time. But…since strange things have found you..perhaps you and he could look out for each other?”

Duck wants to kiss him. Red-brown eyes are so earnest, so hopeful, that he’s certain he could and Indrid would melt in his arms.

Beacon howls from the house as a warning comes over the radio of a storm.

“Dear me, it’s early.”

“Guess I better get my ass in gear. You gonna be okay?”

“As long as I am deep enough, it will not catch me.” Indrid takes his hand, rubbing it against his cheek, “take care, Duck.”

“I will. I’ll see you when it’s over.”

—-------------------------------------------------

Duck takes back every single bad thing he’s ever said about Beacon. The dog’s barking is the only reason he goes to the door of the lighthouse and looks out. In the roaring, ripping wind and rain, a figure has been tossed to the rocks at the base of the house.

Indrid.

He drags the mer inside, nearly being blow off his feet. He’s glad he’s kept up the floor of living quarters in here, and even gladder that said room is only three floors up.

“Fuck, fuck, ‘Drid, can you hear me?” He lays the mer on the floor, his chest and tail scratched and bruised from the rocks, “goddamn it, you told me you were gonna stay deep!”

“There was a future where you Winnie slipped the door and you went after her and drowned.” Indrid murmurs, then chirps in pain, “I wanted to be here in case you did, so I could, could save you. The wave took me by surprise. I am sorry.”

“Why are you fuckin sorry, you got hurt because of me.”

“Yes, but you now risked your life for something strange, which I did not wish you to do.”

Duck cradles him closer and kisses him once, gently. Indrid trills, surprised, and then purrs and wraps his arms around Duck’s damp shoulders.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that’s the worst fuckin moment for this but I just...’Drid, you may be the weirdest fuckin’ thing in my life but you’re also the best. Everyday I wake up happier because I know I’ll see this fuckin’ stunnin face in the waves, looking for me.”

Indrid kisses him, tasting of the storm, “And everyday I surface with a heart lighter than the sun because I know you will be in the lighthouse.” He strokes Duck’s cheek, “my brave keeper.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “Don’t that work out nice?”

“It does. And since you are about to ask, yes, please get the bathing tub you’ve been keeping outside; the collected water will be enough to wait out the storm. And after that…well, I have some ideas for how to pass the rest of the day.”

Duck trails his fingers up Indrids’ tail, savoring the way it flexes under his touch, “I’m all ears, darlin.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #mermay #duck x indrid #human/monster romance #taz amnesty

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sailtomarina · 1 year ago

Text

Last-Minute Leather

Harry x Draco | @hp-yuletide-bliss Day 6: Last-minute Christmas shopping haul | WC 1539 | Rating: M

What do you give to a bloke who has everything?

Harry always knew what to get Hermione, and Ron loved anything he could eat, but Draco? His boyfriend was the sort of wizard who bought what he wanted when he wanted–no matter the cost.

Harry quickly discovered that Draco Malfoy was a man of many and varied interests.

The question re-imposed itself at the forefront of his mind: what do you get someone who has everything? Where does one even begin when that same person shrugs when asked, simply answering, “You don’t have to get me anything.”

In Malfoy-speak, that essentially meant, “I’m just happy to be with you.” Of course, the git would never actually utter something so openly affectionate. Harry knew better than to expect that. What they shared was still so new, that he was afraid to exhale too hard and shatter what they’d built together over the past year.

Diagon Alley was packed to the brim with other last-minute shoppers–mothers hustling their children from storefront to storefront, undoubtedly hoisting their shrunk-down purchases within their purses; merchants hawking their wares with free samples and colorful displays; weary partners sitting on the many benches lining the cobblestone road as they waited for significant others to finish up their business. Objectively, Harry thought the wizarding shopping district had never looked more festive. Wreaths hung from the lamp posts and every shop featured their own array of holiday lights. All they needed was a sprinkling of snow to finish off the pretty painting.

Harry stuck to the edges of the crowd holding his coffee cup aloft, partially for the warmth and partially to hide his face. He could just disguise himself and avoid any overly-zealous fans, or use the Invisibility Cloak, but the pressing bodies would immediately reveal the odd hole that was his hidden body and he hated having to go through the extra effort at all.

No. Better to make up his mind on what he wanted to get Draco, then plan his angle of attack.

“Harry?”

He turned at the familiar voice and came face-to-face with a mountain of mahogany curls.

“Hermione!” Hope bubbled up at the sight of her cheery grin. Hermione always made for a good target to bounce ideas off of.

She eyeballed the tote under his arm. “I take it you’re still getting gifts?”

A sheepish smile was her answer, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“What! Not everyone can be as well prepared as you,” he exclaimed. Then, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Although, what are you doing here?”

She didn’t look like she counted among the harried customers, but who knew what secrets she kept hidden in that beaded bag of hers. She’d been known to hide a few tricks in her hair, as well.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been good on presents for weeks, some of them for months,” she said, her smug tilted upward. “I just so happened to be here to catch Pansy’s new winter collection.”

He nodded slowly as he recalled Pansy’s blossoming fashion business, which she’d started after breaking off her arranged engagement with Gregory Goyle. Call it a distraction, or her version of a rebound, but the decision had been the best choice she’d ever made. She thrived under creative pressure and stepped her best heel forward as she took the wizarding fashion world by storm.

He certainly had much to be thankful for, given her almost-immediate attention to his person, demanding that he dress as befit his station as Head Auror, public figure, and Draco Malfoy’s lover. He’d never worn such perfectly-tailored suits and robes in his entire life once Pansy took control of his wardrobe. Draco certainly didn’t have any complaints, if the way he worshiped him behind closed doors was any indication of his…vast…appreciation.

“I’m pretty much done except for one problematic individual.”

“Malfoy?” She served him a knowing smirk.

“Well, what about you? What did you get your wizard?”

“Well, Theo is much easier than Malfoy,” she smacked him on the arm as he started to make a suggestive comment. “He doesn’t spill his Galleons at the drop of a hat like somebody else.”

She seemed to consider whether or not to tell him more, eyes flitting around for any possible eavesdroppers. Skeeter had long been ousted from any respectable news agency after Hermione exposed her Animagus status, and was currently serving five years in Azkaban to boot, but there were always other would-be paparazzi where the Golden Trio were concerned.

“Muffliato,” she murmured, before leaning in unnecessarily towards him. “I picked up some custom lingerie that Pansy designed for me.”

His eyebrows jumped high on forehead. He thought of Hermione like a sister, so any mentions of her and sex were about as appealing to him as a mouthful of Hagrid’s treacle fudge. Still, she was on the right track. Draco adored Harry in just about any and all uniforms (his Quidditch kit, his Auror uniform, re-sized Hogwarts robes) as much as he loved him naked.

He had yet to wear something overtly sexual in nature.

“Do you think Pansy might have something for blokes?”

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione looked fit to burst, her cheeks puffing up as she grinned wide and a high-pitched squeal starting to work out of her mouth. “She totally would! Please, go see her.”

Godric, he was a lucky man to have such brilliant friends in his life. He swept Hermione up in a hug, thanked her profusely, then headed in the direction of Pansy’s shop.

As he approached the familiar storefront with its black brick and tasteful window displays, arranged almost like snow globes, complete with falling snow that somehow never reached the floor, he realized this might take much longer than he’d thought. There were so many witches seeking her services that there was a line going out the door and down the street.

He could bite the wand and take his place at the end, risking recognition and ceaseless questions, or he could leave and return at a less busy time–perhaps just before the end of open hours. Better yet, maybe he could just owl Pansy and ask her to come up with some options. She already had his measurements, after all. Surely she was skilled enough to math out some of his other assets she had yet to put a tape measure to. It couldn’t be anything more complicated than a snug pair of boxer briefs, right?

His mind now made up on the third option, he spun on his heel to make a hasty retreat, only to walk straight into the witch herself.

“Potter!” She stumbled back, nearly losing her balance before he quickly grabbed onto her elbows to steady her.

“So sorry, Pans. I didn’t realize anyone was behind me.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. In this crowd, there’s no avoiding a few bumps here and there. What about you? Is there something I can help you with?”

He glanced nervously at the line of women, before returning his attention to the one right in front of him. One perfectly-manicured brow lifted in curiosity.

“I’m shopping for a gift. I just ran into Hermione and she told me what you made for her, and I just thought that maybe—”

She held that same hand up to stop him.

“Say no more.” She ran an appraising gaze down his form, the corners of her lips curling upward as a dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. “I assume this is for you, for Draco?”

“Shhhh!” he hissed, frantically looking around to see if anyone had heard.

“Oh, please, lingerie is nothing to be embarrassed about, Potter.”

“It is for me. I’ve never worn, never even thought about, this kind of thing before. I can’t imagine what others might say if they find out that I’m looking to…looking to…”

Her chin dropped and she leveled a stern face at him, far too reminiscent of Hermione’s best discernment for his liking. “To what? Dress up special for someone you love?”

It sounded so simple when she phrased it like that. Not just simple, but even normal.

“Well…yes, I suppose.”

She nodded in approval. “I’ll come up with several options. You come back tonight at 5 and we’ll go over them together.”

“Isn’t that when your doors close?”

Pansy looked pointedly between him and the line behind them. “Do you want to come back here during open hours?”

He swallowed heavily and shook his head.

She patted him on the shoulder and moved past, their plan now set. “I’ll see you tonight, then. Don’t be late.”

That evening, Harry learned a great many things he had never known before, including harnesses charmed to withstand any amount of stress to the straps, jock straps meant for more than just sports and how they differed from split jock straps, and that he quite liked how he looked wearing a snug bit of leather. He walked away with a few different options, already looking forward to the look on Draco’s face once he opened the first present.

Harry would already be wearing the other gifts, and he expected to be unwrapped with far less finesse and a good deal of swearing.

Cross-posted to Tumblr and AO3

I was recently introduced by a friend to Nasty Pig while asking him questions about different types of menswear, and boy, oh, boy, did I get some wonderful images for reference. If you’re at all inclined towards harnesses, jock straps, and the like, feel free to check it out, or let me know if you know of other sources of inspiration.

I don’t write much Drarry, but I’ve always loved the idea of them. They’re such an obvious and wonderful pairing given their obsessions with one another at Hogwarts. I don’t know how much justice I could really give them, though, in a scene, hence this being wholly in Harry’s POV, and Draco in the periphery.

#harry potter fanfiction #drarry #draco malfoy x harry potter #draco malfoy #harry potter #hp yuletide bliss #christmas hp fest

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