#if you notice that tiny moment then that is for you

[hipsternumbertwo]

Under the Mistletoe

[hoe4hotchner]

Can you write a story where the reader, a BAU member, is on maternity leave after she and Aaron just had a baby? One day, she goes to the office to bring their daughter to visit Aaron, only to find him in the bullpen with the agent who replaced her while she’s been on leave. The replacement has a crush on Aaron and doesn’t know that he’s married to the reader. The replacement becomes jealous when she sees how much attention Aaron is giving their daughter and confronts the reader, but Aaron gets angry and ends up firing her."

Family first | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Fluff, mom!reader, they have a daugther, bitch of a replacement coworker who doesn't know her place.

As you stepped into the all too familiar bullpen you were met with the usual sound of phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and the occasional laughter bubbling up from conversations between team members. You hadn’t stepped foot in the office in months — your maternity leave had been an endless storm of sleepless nights, diaper changes, and indescribable moments of joy. Now, cradling your six-month-old daughter in your arms, you stood at the threshold of the office, taking it all in — realizing how little you'd missed working, as long as you got to spend your time with your daughter.

“Ready to surprise Daddy?” you cooed to your baby, brushing a soft kiss against her fluffy head. She giggled in response, her little hand grasping at your necklace — the one Aaron had gotten you with a charm of your daughter's initial. Her chubby fingers wrapped around the charm, and you couldn’t help but smile at her curiosity.

Heads turned as you had entered, and a wave of warmth spread through you as familiar voices from your friends greeted you.

“Y/N!” Garcia’s exclamation came first as she flew across the bullpen, pulling away from her conversation with Morgan, her colorful dress trailing behind her. “Oh my gosh, let me see that precious little angel!”

You laughed, carefully handing over your daughter as Garcia immediately began cooing at her. Emily, Morgan, and JJ soon gathered around, their faces lighting up at the sight of the baby.

“Look at those cheeks,” Morgan said, his voice soft as he tickled her tiny hand. “Hotch better have her signed up for karate classes already. Gotta keep the boys away.”

“Or girls,” Emily added. “She’s going to be a heartbreaker either way.”

You beamed at their affection, the team’s love for your little family filling your heart. “Where is Aaron?” you asked, glancing toward his office. The blinds were drawn, but you knew he wasn’t inside.

JJ nodded toward the conference room. “He’s in there, showing something to Agent Morrison.”

Your smile faltered slightly at the mention of Morrison, the agent who had been brought in temporarily to cover your leave. You hadn’t met her yet, but you’d heard through the grapevine that she was ambitious, skilled, and confident — maybe a little too confident.

You spotted Aaron through the windows, his back turned as he reviewed what you assumed were some case files with Morrison. He looked relaxed yet tired, his tie slightly loosened, though his usual air of authority remained in place. Morrison stood close to him — a little too close — her laughter ringing out at something he said.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but you pushed the feeling aside. Aaron was your husband, your partner, and the father of the baby currently making grabby hands at Morgan’s face. You had no reason to feel insecure.

Morgan handed your daughter back to you as you went to greet your husband.

And still, as you approached, you couldn’t help but notice the way Morrison’s body language leaned toward him, her hand brushing his forearm as she laughed again. Aaron didn’t seem to notice — or if he did, he wasn’t encouraging it.

When you reached the conference room, Aaron glanced up, and the moment his eyes met yours, his entire demeanor softened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and surprise. His gaze immediately dropped to the baby in your arms, and he stood quickly, coming around the desk to envelop you both in a hug.

“You should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before gently brushing a finger across your daughter’s cheek. She squealed in delight, reaching out for him, and he took her into his arms with ease.

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I told you,” you replied, grinning as you watched him cradle her. “I figured you could use a break.”

Aaron’s smile widened, and he kissed the baby’s forehead before turning back to you. “I always have time for my girls.”

Morrison’s voice cut into the moment, a hint of confusion lacing her words. “Wait, your girls?”

You turned to her, offering a polite smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Aaron’s wife.”

Her eyes widened, darting between you, Aaron, and the baby. “Wife?” she repeated, her tone almost incredulous.

Aaron’s arm settled protectively around your waist as he nodded. “Yes, my wife. Y/N used to work here before going on maternity leave.”

Morrison’s expression shifted, her initial surprise giving way to something more guarded. “Oh. I… I didn’t realize.”

“Well, now you do,” Aaron said firmly, his tone polite but edged with finality, hoping that your visit would make Morrison drop her antics.

The tension in Morrison’s posture was clear as day, but she pasted on a smile. “She’s adorable,” she said, nodding toward the baby. “You’re very lucky.”

Aaron’s grip on you tightened slightly. “I know I am.”

The interaction seemed to conclude there, and Morrison excused herself, claiming she had paperwork to finish. But as the day went on, it became clear that the encounter had unsettled her. You noticed her watching you from across the room, her eyes narrowing whenever Aaron’s attention lingered on you or the baby.

Finally, as you were gathering your things to leave, Morrison approached you near the elevator. Her smile was tight, her tone clipped.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked, glancing around to ensure no one else was within earshot.

You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Her polite facade dropped almost instantly. “You don’t have to flaunt your relationship in front of everyone,” she said sharply. “It’s unprofessional.”

Your jaw tightened, but you kept your voice calm. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She scoffed. “You know exactly what I mean. Walking in here with your baby like you own the place, acting like Hotch is your personal property… It’s distracting and completely inappropriate.”

You blinked, stunned by the audacity. Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Agent Morrison.”

Aaron’s tone was ice-cold, and you turned to see him standing a few feet away, his expression thunderous. “A word, please. Now.”

Morrison’s face paled as she stammered, “I… I didn’t mean…”

“My office. Now.”

You watched as Aaron led her away, his posture stiff with fury. The bullpen had fallen silent, and you could feel the eyes of your colleagues on you, but you held your head high, refusing to let Morrison’s pettiness rattle you.

Minutes later, Aaron returned, his expression softer but still serious. He placed a hand on your arm, guiding you toward the elevator. “Let’s go home,” he said quietly.

As the elevator doors closed, you glanced up at him. “What happened?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Morrison won’t be returning. Her behavior was unacceptable, and I made it clear that we won’t tolerate that kind of attitude here.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude and love for the man beside you. “Thank you.”

Aaron’s eyes softened as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “No one disrespects my family,” he said firmly. “No one.”

[konigsbitch]

Big boy konig feeling reader's tight pussy for the first time

ughh this is so cringey #staypositive

───

konig had always been big. he liked being big. konig loved how thick and strong his arms were, the way his muscles would ripple every time he moved around. he liked the feeling of his thick muscular thighs stretching his pants and how they would stand out, leaving open mouths wherever he went. but most of all, he loved how thick his shaft was. it was chunky and long and surely not easy to take

konig lived with the thought that he needs a big woman to handle him. at his height of 6'10, he wanted a tall woman, big and sexy as well. he thought like that until he felt your tight pussy wrapped around his thick cock, your walls pulling him in deeper even though you were a crying and moaning mess

the moment he first entered you, he was head over heels. your little body was struggling so pretty to take him and he looked like he could swallow you whole. you were perfectly made for him, at this tiny size. his big ass dick was noticeable through the bulge in your stomach, the same bulge that was disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his hips. konig may or may not have developed a size kink..

[tfwbluu]

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS . . .

pair: ni-ki & f!reader. warnings: pxrn with little plot, pet names (baby, my angel, good girl, etc), light choking, ki’s lowkey possessive, slight size kink, oral (f. rec), raw s*x (wrap it up), praise, fingering, squirting, creampie, overstimulation. wc: 2K

a/n note: this is purely self indulgent because i’m down bad TT i haven’t wrote smut in so long pls bare w me. also had more ideas but i got lazy at the end lol. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!

As the weather grew colder and Christmas approached, the festive spirit had already begun spreading. Homes were glowing with decorations, and you were no exception. You found yourself setting up some lights on the tiny Christmas tree Jungwon had insisted he’d get for you.

“It’s no fun if we don’t decorate a little bit!” he had complained. Unable to say no to him, you had simply agreed, though decorating wasn’t usually your thing.

Sitting on the couch, lost in thought, you didn’t hear the door open or the faint “I’m home” that followed.

Riki walked in, noticing you hadn’t heard him. With a mischievous smile, he decided to tackle you from behind, making you yelp in surprise.

“Caught you,” he teased, his voice playful.

You let out a small pout but slowly relaxed into his arms. “You scared me,” you murmured, resting your hands on his arms.

A stray thought flickered through your mind as you noticed his arms. ‘Have they gotten bigger since last time?’

“What’s my baby got running through her pretty little head?” Riki asked, moving you onto his lap, positioning you sideways so he could see your face.

“Nothing much,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about what to get you and the others for Christmas. Honestly, I have no idea.” Your fingers idly played with the rings on his fingers.

“You know you don’t have to get us anything, right?” Riki chuckled. “I’m sure the guys would be more than happy if you just made them that steak of yours again. Remember how they devoured it last time?”

You smiled softly but shook your head. “I’d feel bad not giving you guys something when you all keep showering me with gifts…”

Your hands finally settled on his, the size difference between your hands and his catching your attention.

Riki hummed thoughtfully, letting you sit in silence for a moment. Then, an idea seemed to light up his mind, making him sit up a little straighter.

“There is something I’d like to have for Christmas,” he said, pulling you closer.

“Hmm? What is it?” you asked, looking up at him with curious, doe-like eyes.

“You.”

Before you could process his words, Riki pushed you down onto the couch, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. His hands cradled your neck while yours pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

A small moan escaped your lips as his hand slipped under your shirt, caressing your waist. The chill of his rings against your skin sent goosebumps racing across your body.

His kisses grew more feverish, each one more desperate than the last, as if silently begging for more. His tongue flicked against your lips, before he pulled away slightly, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

“Let’s move somewhere more comfortable, yeah?” he murmured, pulling away just enough to look into your dazed eyes.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words. Smiling at your silent agreement, Riki effortlessly scooped you up into his arms and carried you toward your bedroom.

Riki skillfully opened the door to your room, locking it behind him before settling you gently onto the bed. Hovering above you, he captured your lips in another kiss, this time deeper, more desperate. Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly, eliciting a low groan from him.

His lips trailed from your cheek down to your neck and collarbone, suckling softly on the sensitive skin, leaving faint marks that would remind you of this moment. You leaned back, granting him more access, and he took full advantage, his hands slipping to the hem of your (or rather, his) oversized shirt, silently asking for permission.

“Go ahead, Ki,” you breathed, your voice soft yet full of anticipation.

With your approval, he gently removed the shirt, revealing your bare chest. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight before him, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Not wearing anything underneath, huh, baby?” he teased, pressing a kiss between your breasts.

“That wasn’t on purpose,” you mumbled, cheeks flushed crimson as his lips moved closer to your sensitive peaks.

“Hmm,” he hummed in amusement, his lips latching onto your right nipple while his hand cupped and teased the other. He alternated between soft kisses, flicks of his tongue, and gentle sucks, drawing whimpers from you as your body arched under his ministrations.

Your hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging at it with need, silently pleading for him to remove it. Riki obliged, swiftly discarding the fabric before resuming his trail of kisses along your body.

“My,” kiss. “Pretty,” kiss. “Girl,” kiss.

You sighed, hands pulling his face back up to meet yours. Your lips melded together in a fervent kiss, the heat between you both intensifying as your hands explored the expanse of his bare skin, savoring the warmth of his touch and the electricity sparking between you.

Riki broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and whining in protest as you instinctively chased his lips.

“Patience angel,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His hands slid down to your pajama pants, tugging them off slowly along with your panties. You tried to lift your hips to help, your body trembling with anticipation.

When he finally had you bare, his eyes darkened at the sight of how wet you were. He groaned, settling between your legs and hooking them over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he glanced up at you, silently asking for permission.

Growing impatient, you reached down and gently pushed his head closer. He smirked, taking it as a clear sign to continue. With a lingering kiss to your folds, he dragged his tongue slowly up your slick heat, making you shudder.

A moan escaped your lips, your fingers gripping the sheets as the tension inside you grew. Riki’s tongue worked skillfully, alternating between broad strokes along your folds and flicks against your clit. When he sucked on your swollen bud, your moans grew louder, hips arching off the bed in response.

“Fuck... Riki~!” you cried, your body quivering as his hand moved to join his mouth. Two fingers slid into you with ease, curling perfectly to hit the sensitive spot inside you. He continued his relentless assault, his lips and tongue never straying from your clit as his fingers worked you closer to the edge.

“I—I’m close! Riki!” you gasped, the pressure in your stomach snapping as your release gushed out. He groaned, eagerly lapping up your juices, his hand still coaxing more from you as your body spasmed beneath him.

You collapsed back against the bed, panting heavily, your head spinning from the intensity. But just as you thought he was done, his lips returned to your overstimulated core.

“Can’t—!” you tried to protest weakly, your body too sensitive.

“Yes, you can, angel. Take it like a good girl,” he growled, his voice laced with determination as he continued devouring you. Despite the overwhelming sensations, your hips bucked instinctively against his mouth, chasing a pleasure you could barely handle.

Before long, another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, and you cried out his name as your release coated his tongue. He drank it all, not wasting a drop, and when he finally pulled away, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning down at you.

“Sweet,” he remarked, his voice husky and satisfied as you lay there, your chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to regain your breath.

Riki leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as you tried to steady your breathing.

“You okay, pretty?” he asked softly, tucking the stray strands of hair away from your face.

You gave him a small, tired smile and nodded.

“I need words, angel,” he murmured, his tone gentle but firm.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, your voice just above a breath.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Good,” he replied, his voice dropping a pitch. “Because I’m not done yet.”

Before you could fully process his words, he slipped off his pants, his arousal springing free and standing proudly against his stomach. His body loomed over yours, exuding raw desire.

He carefully turned you over, guiding you onto your stomach, your front pressing against the soft sheets. A small groan escaped your lips at the soreness, but your curiosity got the better of you as you glanced back at him. His hands spread your legs apart, and you felt the tip of his cock teasing your folds.

“Riki...” you moaned softly, your body trembling in anticipation.

Without a word, he slowly pushed into you, both of you moaning as he stretched you out, filling you completely. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size before he started moving.

With each thrust, you felt your body arch against him, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you. The pleasure was overwhelming, and your moans threatened to spill over, but you instinctively buried your face in the mattress to muffle them.

Riki noticed immediately and leaned forward, his right hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you upright.

“Don’t hide from me, angel,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

A shaky cry left your lips as he thrust into you harder, the sound unrestrained this time.

“Fuck...” you whimpered, your mind a hazy mess. The coolness of his rings against your neck, the way he filled you perfectly—it was all too much.

He tugged you into a messy kiss, his lips capturing yours as both of you moaned against each other. When he released you, he gently pushed your back down, letting you brace yourself against the bed once more.

“Feels good, yeah?” he asked, his rhythm relentless now.

“Y-Yes!” you cried, your voice high-pitched and desperate.

“My good girl, taking me so well,” he praised, his lips trailing kisses along your back and shoulders.

“Hmm~! Your good girl!” you managed to reply through your moans.

“Yes, you are,” he affirmed, his voice filled with pride.

His thrusts grew faster and more erratic as he chased his release, one hand gripping your neck lightly while the other found your clit, rubbing in time with his movements.

“Rikiii!” you wailed, your body trembling as your orgasm hit, pulsing around him.

He groaned, burying himself deep inside you as he followed right after, his release spilling into you in hot spurts. He stilled, his breaths heavy as he let himself empty completely.

As he pulled out, he watched as his cum dripped from your swollen folds, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

Riki turned you over, gently cradling your face as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. His fingers gathered some of his release, pushing it back into you, eliciting a muffled moan as you melted into the kiss.

Before you could recover, you felt the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance again. Your eyes widened, and you gasped softly.

“Just one more, baby,” he whispered against your lips, his voice deep and coaxing. Without hesitation, he pushed inside you again, filling you up.

Your body trembled, the overstimulation making you whine, but he only responded by moving your legs up over his shoulders, letting him reach even deeper. Each thrust had you crying out, his movements calculated and intense.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he groaned, his eyes locked on yours. “All mine to fuck, hmm?”

You couldn’t form a response, your mind blank from the pleasure. Instead, you moaned mindlessly, your back arching as he kept hitting spots that left you breathless.

Riki leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he pressed your hands beside your head, pinning you to the bed.

“Hope you’re ready for the rest of the night, angel,” he murmured, his tone filled with a teasing affection. “I want to make the most out of my Christmas present.”

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Kindergarten Crush

› content ┆ ceo scoups x kindergarten teacher fem reader, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 3.3k. ⌁ summary ┆CEO Choi Seungcheol can not help but fall in love with the one kindergaten teacher who takes best care of his son while he is late. He's making it his mission to be the best father so you would accept to love and take care of him too.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

It was the kind of late afternoon when the last streaks of sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on the cozy space inside. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of a cartoon playing on the projector screen. A blanket was spread across the floor, surrounded by pillows of every shape and color. In the middle of it all were two figures: a small boy, whose legs were tucked beneath him as he sat cross-legged on the blanket, and his teacher, you, sitting beside him with a gentle smile on your face.

You were everything a child could ask for in a teacher—warm, caring, and endlessly patient. Your laughter was infectious, and your ability to make every child feel seen and heard was unmatched. You had a particular soft spot for one student in your class, a tiny boy named Seungwoo. He was shy, and often a bit reserved, but there was something in his wide eyes and sweet smile that melted your heart every time.

That day, Seungwoo had stayed after school, as he often did, for some extra playtime in the reading zone waiting for his father to pick him up. His classmates had all gone home, and you had promised him you'd watch his favorite cartoon together. And so, there you both were—Seungwoo nibbling on a cookie as he snuggled into a pillow beside you.

"Are you sure your mom and dad don't mind you staying a bit longer, Seungwoo?" you asked softly, your eyes twinkling with affection as you handed him another cookie.

Seungwoo shook his head, a tiny smile forming on his lips. "Dad's always busy, but he likes it when I stay here. He says I’m safe with you."

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words. "Well, you're safe with me anytime, sweetie. And I'll always have cookies and cartoons waiting for you."

Just as the cartoon reached its climax, the sound of the door opening made you turn. Standing in the doorway, looking every bit as polished and serious as he always did, was Choi Seungcheol, the CEO of a major tech company. Also well known for his handsome looks. His sharp dark suit and expensive watch contrasted with the cozy, colorful childlike atmosphere of the classroom, but the sight before him made his chest tighten.

There, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was his son Seungwoo, laughing and enjoying his time with you. You were sharing cookies, the kind you always baked with your students in mind, and sipping on fruit juice as you watched the cartoon. The sight of you—your gentle smile as you carefully adjusted a pillow for Seungwoo, the way Seungwoo’s face lit up every time you spoke—was so pure, so heartwarming, that Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat.

His usual sharp and composed demeanor faltered for a split second as he stood there, taking in the moment. He hadn’t expected to find such a sweet scene after his long day of meetings, but it was exactly what he needed to see. It felt like everything he had worked so hard for—his long hours and high-pressure job—was being undone by something as simple as this: someone’s love and attention for his son.

You noticed him standing there, and your face lit up in that familiar, welcoming smile. "Ah, Mr. Choi! I didn’t expect you this late. Seungwoo wanted to stay a little longer, so we’re just finishing up with some cookies and a cartoon. How was your meeting?"

Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile, softer than usual. "It went well, thank you. I’m sorry for being late."

Seungwoo, noticing his father, scrambled to his feet, rushing over to him with a bright grin. "Dad! You’re here!" he exclaimed, holding up a cookie in the offering. "Want one?"

Seungcheol’s heart melted at his son’s enthusiasm. "Sure," he said, crouching down to accept the cookie, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. You smiled at him kindly, and for the first time in a long while, Seungcheol felt his shoulders relax.

As they all sat together on the blanket, Seungwoo between you two, Seungcheol found himself drawn into the warmth of the moment. The laughter and comfort that filled the room seemed to melt away the tension of his busy, corporate life. It was strange, how just being in this simple, peaceful setting made everything feel... right.

Over the next few weeks, Seungcheol made a quiet promise to himself. He had always been a man of routine, arriving at the school late after long hours of meetings, but now he found himself arriving just a little earlier each day. He would make sure to stop by the classroom after work, even if just for a few minutes. He wanted to see that smile you always greeted him with, to hear your gentle voice speaking to his son, making him feel safe and cared for.

Every time he saw you, a flutter would rise in his chest. You were so effortlessly kind, so good to Seungwoo. He had never realized how much of an impact a teacher could have on a child’s life until now. And perhaps—just perhaps—he was beginning to wonder what kind of impact you could have on his life, too.

One afternoon, as he arrived a little earlier than usual, you were sitting at your desk, grading papers with a focused expression. Your hair was loosely tied back, and the soft light from the window framed your face in a way that made you look even more beautiful. Seungcheol hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the doorframe.

"Hi," he said, his voice low but steady.

You looked up and smiled warmly. "Mr. Choi, you’re early today. Is everything alright?"

He took a deep breath, the weight of the moment not lost on him. "Yes. Everything’s fine," he replied. "I... I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you do for Seungwoo. He really loves being here with you."

You blinked in surprise at the sincerity in his voice. "It’s my pleasure, Mr. Choi. Seungwoo is such a sweet boy. He’s a joy to have in class."

Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He stood there for a moment longer, unsure of how to express what he was feeling. But there, in the quiet space of the classroom, he realized that perhaps some things didn’t need words. Not yet, anyway.

As he walked over to where Seungwoo was playing with a set of blocks, you joined them, and for the first time in a long while, Seungcheol didn’t mind staying a little longer. He knew he would be coming to school more often now, not just to pick up his son, but because—perhaps—there was more to discover in this little classroom with its cozy reading zone, pillows, and blankets.

It wasn’t just the cookies that kept him coming back. It was you.

The following days seemed to pass in a blur, but each one held something special for him. He found himself eagerly anticipating the moment when he'd arrive at the school, hoping to catch just a glimpse of you. And it wasn’t just about Seungwoo anymore—though, of course, he adored his son and cherished the time they spent together. But there was something else now, something he couldn't quite put into words, that drew him back to the classroom every day.

Each afternoon, he would arrive a little earlier, hoping to find the moment when you and Seungwoo were still together, sharing their cookies and watching cartoons. He loved the way you laughed at the silly moments in the show and the way you gently encouraged Seungwoo to try new things, even as you made him feel comfortable at his own pace.

One particular Thursday, Seungcheol arrived with a little more excitement than usual. He had no meetings scheduled for the afternoon, so he was able to leave work early. When he entered the school, he was greeted by the soft murmur of children’s voices and the sweet scent of cookies wafting through the hallway. He smiled to himself as he walked toward the classroom. He could hear the familiar sound of your voice before he even reached the door.

"Okay, Seungwoo, what’s your guess? Will it be the blue one or the green one?"

Seungwoo giggled. "The green one! It’s always the green one!"

He stopped for a moment, listening to the laughter. He couldn't help but smile, feeling warmth in his chest. He pushed open the door and saw a familiar scenery—Seungwoo sitting on the blanket, legs crossed, with you beside him. You were playing a guessing game, and there were cookies scattered around. Your eyes lit up when you saw him.

"Mr. Choi! You’re here early today!" you said, your voice full of pleasant surprise.

Seungcheol, slightly embarrassed by how eager he felt, nodded. "I finished my work early. Thought I’d pick Seungwoo up and maybe stay for a bit."

You smiled warmly, your gaze lingering just a little longer than usual. "You’re welcome to join us, of course. We were just playing a game. Want to try?"

Seungwoo looked up, his face lighting up. "Dad, you can play too! We’re guessing the color of the candy!"

He chuckled, feeling an unexpected sense of comfort. He was used to boardroom meetings, not children's games, but something about being in this space with you and Seungwoo made him feel at ease. "Alright, I’ll give it a try," he said, taking a seat on the floor beside them. The warmth of the moment was enough to make him forget the hectic hours he spent in high-rise offices.

As you played the game, he found himself enjoying the simplicity of the moment. He listened to Seungwoo’s innocent guesses and watched you with encouraging smiles. Your laughter echoed in his heart, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was experiencing something rare, something that transcended the world of high-powered deals and deadlines.

It was clear that you had a way of making everyone around you feel special. Your love for teaching, your care for each student, and your kindness toward them had started to make a significant impact. He found himself lingering a little longer each day, unable to tear himself away from the peaceful atmosphere you created in that little classroom.

By Friday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Seungcheol realized that he was beginning to look forward to his time together with you, even if it was just a few minutes at the end of the day. He wanted to know more about the person who had become such an important part of his son’s life. And—though he couldn’t quite admit it yet—he wanted to know more about the woman who made his heart skip every time you smiled at him.

The day dragged on longer than usual, but Seungcheol finally made his way to the school, arriving as the final bell rang. He didn’t rush this time; he took his time, knowing he had a few extra minutes to spare. When he walked into the classroom, he found you packing up some of your things.

"Miss Y/N," he said, his voice a little softer than usual, "I wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve been doing for Seungwoo. He really enjoys his time here, and I can tell he’s learning so much from you."

You smiled up at him from the desk, your eyes warm and kind. "It’s my pleasure, Mr. Choi. Seungwoo is such a bright boy. I’m really lucky to have him in my class."

There was a quiet pause between you two, and you felt something shift in the air, a subtle, unspoken connection that had been growing stronger with each day. He had to take a deep breath before speaking again.

"I was wondering… if you might be free sometime? Maybe we could grab a coffee? Just… as a thank you. You know, for all the kindness you’ve shown Seungwoo and for making me feel so welcome."

The words hung in the air between you. For a brief moment, Seungcheol cursed himself for being so straightforward, so vulnerable. But when he looked at you, he saw your smile soften, your eyes lighting up in a way that made his heart race.

"I’d love that," you said, your voice gentle. "I’m usually free on weekends if that works for you."

A surge of relief washed over him. "That sounds perfect. I’ll let you know when."

You exchanged numbers with a small, tentative smile, both of you feeling the weight of what this moment might mean. Seungcheol could feel his pulse quicken at the thought of spending more time with you, outside the classroom. He had known for a while now that there was something special about you, something that made him feel alive in ways you hadn't expected.

When you left the school that afternoon, your heart was full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. The thought of meeting him for coffee and talking about something other than Seungwoo and school made your chest tighten in excitement. You hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine this kind of connection in years, but now, with every smile from him, you felt yourself pulling closer.

As the days passed, you looked forward to your coffee date, knowing that this was just the beginning of something that felt as sweet and simple as the cookies you’d shared in that classroom, surrounded by pillows and laughter

The days that followed were filled with anticipation, and he found himself counting down the hours until Saturday. Though he had many things to do—business deals, phone calls, tasks at the office—nothing felt as important as the upcoming coffee date with you. The thought of seeing you outside of school, getting to know the person behind the kind, gentle teacher, made his heart flutter in ways he hadn’t felt in years.

Saturday finally arrived, and he made sure to arrive at the café a little early. The air was crisp, a hint of winter beginning to settle in. He stood outside, adjusting his jacket, checking his watch, running a hand through his hair. He tried hard to not look too eager, but the truth was, he had been looking forward to this moment all week.

When he saw you walking toward him, a soft smile on your face, his heart skipped a beat. You looked effortlessly beautiful, wearing a simple yet elegant dress paired with a cozy cardigan. The way you carried yourself, with grace and warmth, made you seem like you were in your element.

"Hi, Mr. Choi!" you greeted him, your voice light and friendly. "I hope I’m not late."

His nerves settled at the sound of your voice, and he couldn’t help but smile. "Not at all, Miss Y/N. I just got here a few minutes ago. I’m glad you could make it."

You walked into the café together, the scent of coffee and fresh pastries welcoming you inside. Seungcheol led you to a quiet corner, where the soft hum of conversation and the low music in the background made the space feel intimate and cozy. As he sat down, he couldn’t help but notice how at ease you seemed, how your presence brought an unexpected peace to your usually hectic world.

"I have to admit," he said, leaning back in his chair, "I wasn’t sure what to expect. I mean, we usually talk about Seungwoo, school, and all the little things in his life. But this—this feels different."

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with warmth. "I think it’s nice, don’t you? A change of pace. We get to talk about something other than lesson plans and school activities."

He chuckled, the sound deep and genuine. "Definitely. I’ve spent so much of my life focused on work and responsibilities, that I forget that there are moments like these that actually make life feel… complete. Like this. With you."

Your smile softened at your words, and you tucked a strand of hair behind you ear. "I understand what you mean. Teaching is a big part of my life, but there’s also more to it, more to me. Sometimes it’s nice to step away from the classroom and just be yourself for a moment."

Seungcheol nodded, his gaze lingering on you. He hadn’t realized until now just how much he longed for these quieter moments—the ones that weren’t filled with the buzz of the corporate world. He was used to being the one in charge, the one who always had to make decisions, led meetings, and set the pace. But with you, there was a kind of tranquility, a balance that he hadn’t known he needed.

As you talked, the conversation flowed easily. You shared stories about your childhoods, your favorite books, and even silly things like the kinds of music you liked. Your laughter was infectious, and he found himself opening up in a way he rarely did with anyone. There was a lightness to the way you spoke, a genuine interest in everything he had to say, and it made him feel like he was finally allowed to be more than just the CEO, more than just the father. For the first time in a long while, he felt… seen.

"I have to admit," you said, your smile turning playful, "I’ve always been curious about what it’s like to run a company. I mean, you’re so busy with meetings and traveling, right? How do you manage it all?"

Seungcheol leaned forward, intrigued by your question. "It’s not easy, but it’s all about balance. Finding time for the things that matter—work, yes, but also family. And now," he added, his eyes softening as they met yours, "I’m starting to think I need to make more time for things like this."

You blinked, your eyes wide as you took in his words. "Things like this?"

he hesitated for a moment before replying, his voice quieter now. "Things like… spending time with you. I know it’s unexpected, but I really enjoy these moments we’ve been sharing—getting to know you, and seeing the way you care for Seungwoo. It’s been… refreshing."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words, and you looked down for a moment, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "I didn’t expect that," you said, a bit shyly. "But I’m glad you feel that way. I think there’s something special about the time we’ve spent together too. You and Seungwoo have a warmth to you that’s hard to ignore."

Seungcheol smiled at your response, feeling a sudden surge of hope in his chest. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment, he realized. There was something genuine here—something that he wanted to explore further.

The coffee date continued into the evening, the conversation never running dry. You talked about everything and nothing, the kind of easy companionship that made time seem to stand still. By the time you finished your drinks, you both knew one thing for certain: you wanted more of this.

As he stood up to leave, he took a step closer to you. "I’m really glad we did this," he said, his voice sincere. "And, um… if you’re free again sometime, maybe we could do it again?"

You smiled warmly, your eyes lighting up at his words. "I’d love that."

His heart raced at the thought, but there was a calmness to it now, a certainty. He had known, even before he asked, that this was just the beginning of something. The connection between you two was undeniable, and he was more than ready to explore it.

"How about next weekend?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Next weekend sounds perfect," you replied with a smile that made his chest swell with warmth.

As you walked out of the café together, side by side, he felt like something had shifted, not just in the world around him, but within himself. Maybe it was because of the way you made him feel—like he was more than just a CEO, more than just a father. Maybe it was the quiet moments, like the ones you shared over coffee, that made him realize how much you had been missing.

And as you parted ways that night, a promise unspoken hung in the air– that this was only the beginning.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form

honestly inspired by real life.. somehow, i'm just obsessed with one of the little one where i teach - he so adorable

@ credits┆big thanks to @tusswrites for beta & proof reading, one of my much needed grammar saviours ☆彡

❀ a/n┆ finally on vacations - happy holidays everyone

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip"🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[judeswhore]

santa baby

summary: you have an extra special gift for jude this christmas

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: 18+, hints of brothers bsf!jude, grinding, mentions of sex

notes: i Need him!!! you can find my masterlist here. i might make a second part to this

"can i open my eyes yet?" jude asked. he was seated at the very edge of your mattress, legs spread wide and arms behind him as he rested back on his palms, the perfect picture of calm. the barely noticeable tick in his jaw was the only giveaway that he was on edge and it sent a thrill through you knowing just how much you affected him. it boosted your confidence, made this little show feel a lot more exciting despite the slightly nervous tremor in your fingers.

for a few quiet moments you simply admired the man in front of you, basked in the opportunity to drink him in without his eyes on you. he was shirtless, per your request and the sight of his bare chest and that teasing ladder of hair made you a little dry mouthed, filled your head with endless fantasies. dragging your gaze upwards you settled on his face, on the stubble covering his jaw, the soft curve of his lips and his lashes, so unfairly long, they made you jealous. he was stupidly pretty, gorgeous in a way that had landed you in trouble the second your brother had brought him home. jude was supposed to be off limits. yet here he was, half naked in your room and growing slightly impatient with your surprise.

"babe?"

"hmm?" you hummed softly, still caught up in running your eyes over his arms, cheeks growing hot at the bulge of his biceps. you wanted to sink your teeth into them, into his shoulders and chest, to mark and claim him despite all the reasons you shouldn't. jude's huff of laughter brought your attention back to his face.

"can i open my eyes?"

"oh." you coughed quietly to clear your throat and straightened up, prepared to spin as you double checked your outfit was perfect. "yeah, you can open your eyes." you held your breath and watched his lashes flutter open, watched almost in slow motion as his jaw dropped, dark gaze bouncing rapidly over your body. he didn’t seem to know where he wanted to look most, a soft curse falling from his lips as he suddenly sat up straight.

you gave him a slow twirl, felt the tiny skirt you were wearing lift up just slightly and you were rewarded with a low groan from jude at the peak of your ass beneath. the outfit was simple enough, a tiny red skirt, equally as tiny red bra and a santa hat but the boy in front of you was staring as though you were a prized painting. it made your pulse thunder and your skin felt hot and prickly wherever his eyes roamed. goosebumps had risen across your chest because jude’s gaze was suddenly pinned to your boobs.

“merry christmas, jude.”

“holy shit.” he gave a light, breathless laugh, swallowed harshly and twisted his finger in the air. “fuck, gimme another spin.” you did as you were told, twirled for him and then stopped with your hands on your hips. a smile tugged your lips.

“what do you think?”

“what do i- jesus christ.”

“yeah?” you raised your eyebrows at his obvious lack of words, at the dazed look he was wearing and the desire burning in his eyes. jude bit down on his bottom lip, head shaking as he tracked every inch of your body and the heat of his gaze felt like the caress of his fingers over your bare skin. up along your legs, lingering just slightly on your thighs before sliding over your bare stomach, drinking in the way your boobs half spilled from the slightly too small cups and then over your face and to the little hat sitting lopsidedly on your head. he was grinning by that point.

“you’re gorgeous. it’s- i don’t- how do you look so fuckin’ good?” he groaned low in his throat, sounding almost like he was in pain. “that skirt.” a half shy smile was making its way onto your face as you fiddled with the hem of the skirt, hyper aware of the bulge that had appeared in jude’s shorts and even more aware of the way his hand had wandered only inches from it.

“i have something else for you.”

“something else?” jude gaped a little, shifted on your mattress to adjust his shorts but it did nothing to hide his cock. you swallowed, swiped your tongue along your bottom lip before slowly making your way over to him, hips swaying as you tried your hardest not to look ridiculous. the way this boy was looking at you however suggested that wasn’t a possibility. you came to a stop in front of him, tits so close to his face that jude simply couldn’t help himself as he leant forward, nipped softly at the flesh spilling out over the material before soothing the mark with a kiss. he glanced up at you through his lashes, eyes so dark they almost had you gasping for air. “what more could you possibly have?”

with your hands on his shoulders, you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his thighs, settled yourself in his lap only inches from his aching cock. you could feel the heat of him and wanted nothing more than to sink down onto him but you wanted jude to see the last part of your little gift. unable to stop yourself from teasing, you lowered your hips, ground down a little so you could drag your pussy over the tent in his shorts and grinned at the low hiss he let out. his hands clamped down on your waist.

“lift the skirt up.” your voice was a low command, silky smooth and you felt him shudder beneath you, watched his eyes fall closed for a moment when you lifted yourself back off his lap and simply hovered.

jude’s hands settled on your thighs and his fingers were soft as they slid up until they rested at the hem of your skirt. he fiddled with it for a second before flipping the material up, revealing your silky red underwear and his jaw ticked when he spotted just what it was you wanted to show him. stitched across the front of your underwear in pretty white thread, was one simple word, jude.

“thought you’d like it.” you whispered, heart thudding in your chest at his silence, heat flooding your cheeks because jude simply couldn’t look away. his throat bobbed on a swallow, lashes fluttering as he blinked once, twice before finally dragging his gaze back up to yours.

“you’re not real.” he didn’t give you chance to reply to that as he tipped his head to kiss you, lips slotting messily over yours as he curled one hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer. his other hand flattened against the top of your thigh, your skirt falling over his fingers as you settled back down into his lap.

for the next few minutes you simply got lost in his kisses, in the slow drag of his tongue over yours and the occasional nip of his teeth against your bottom lip. nothing mattered but jude’s mouth and the feel of his cock beneath you as you rocked slowly against him, unaware of the damp spot that was slowly spreading over the crotch of your new underwear. a startled whine bled past your lips when jude’s hand shifted beneath your skirt and his thumb pressed firmly over your clit. he rubbed it in soft, slow circles that matched the lazy press of his lips.

“want you to keep these on.” he mumbled, words muffled as he started to work his lips and teeth along your jaw. his hand had knocked your hat slightly askew and when he pulled back he helped to fix it for you, grinning dark and dirty at you when you eyed him in confusion.

“hm?” you were a little dazed, rocking into his hand and down onto his cock, fingers sunk deep into his shoulders for purchase. you choked on a quiet moan when his fingers slipped down and pressed against your already soaked hole, pushed against the damp material of the underwear he was now so infatuated with.

“y’gonna ride my cock like a good girl,” he told you, fingers deftly hooking into the material and tugging it to the side. two fingers brushed over your pussy, circled your clit before sliding back down. “but i want you to keep this pretty little outfit on, okay?”

[hwaightme]

In your eyes

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR CAPTAIN’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)

(masterlist)

📚 pairing: postgrad!bf!hongjoong x afab!gn!reader 📚 genre: smut, established relationship, so much fluff 📚 summary: time is nobody's friend, and hongjoong often finds himself wondering how much he has lost. thankfully, you always remind him of how beautiful the present and future can be, how full of love, how intimate, how true. 📚 wordcount: 4.0k 📚 warnings/tags: MINORS DNI, semi-edited (do let me know if i missed something), they are so in love, teaching assistant joong, so many pet names (love, darling, etc), he is down bad, mention of time anxiety, mild relationship worries, mention of winter holiday season, y/n is an office worker (nothing specific), mention of exams (joong grading), sort of from joong's perspective 📚 taglist: below 📚 a/n: something about academic joong makes me feel many types of ways... anyhow- hope this is enjoyable and gives warm feels <33; live laugh love joong; any notes, reblogs, comments are highly appreciated! thank you

📚nsfw tags: sub-leaning switch joong, service top energy joong, lovemaking, handjob, fingering, dry humping, praise, begging, piv w condom, missionary, mating press, overstimulation, light cuddling, implied aftercare but not described

Tired eyes. Paper after paper decorated with green ink, subsequently joining the pile that was starting to take over the dining table. The persistent glow of the laptop screen, reflected in a pair of tortoiseshell-frame glasses that kept threatening to slide down an elegant nose. While grading papers was not exactly something that Hongjoong would dream of doing during the winter holidays, it came with his job, and so was not entirely abysmal. Perhaps the only issue was that he had grossly underestimated how much time and focus this task would take. Morning rapidly turned into day, and day equally as quickly trickled into evening, leaving him without as much as a moment to spare for the things people usually occupied themselves with at this time of year. Though, perhaps it was important to note that it was not the actual festivities that he longed for and felt apologetic that he could not partake in thanks to his own decisions, but rather a certain someone.

After finishing grading yet another paper, Hongjoong set his pen aside and roughly rubbed his eyes, careful to not send his glasses flying. Only now did he notice just how dark the room had gotten, barely a sliver of light crawling in through the windows, with no thanks to the gloomy weather outside. He rose from his chair, rolling his shoulders from having been in the same position for an uncomfortable number of hours, and ambled to one of the many floor lamps that were neatly stationed around the living room, each with its own story. He picked a particularly whimsical one right in the corner, squinting when it burst to life, revealing its curious design of frosted flowers, branches, and songbirds. Reluctant feet carried him back to the chair, now turned into an instrument for torturous isolation.

“Enough, you know what, enough…” Hongjoong’s whisper cut through the eerie silence of the apartment. Pushing the rest of the papers away, he leaned back with a huff and slid his phone out of the back pocket of his trousers.

The journey to his home screen was swift, only to end in a deliberate pause as he studied it with a sorrowful smile. He was unsure as to why a pang of melancholy had taken a sudden hold on him, but seeing your happy face as you were looking at a bungeoppang neatly tucked into a tiny white bag - a precious moment from a casual date you had gone on - had him irrationally spiraling. You lived together, and yet, he missed you. He longed to hold you in his arms for longer than a few seconds before pulling away. He dreamed of staying in the same room for what could be ages, sharing the quiet atmosphere, or maybe listening to your favorite songs together. The dark winter nights were taking a toll on him, and in utter solitude, the natural tendency to ruminate reigned supreme and let his worries wander freely from his mind and straight to his fragile heart.

When Hongjoong and yourself had discussed winter vacation, the conclusion was reached without much back and forth. You were not taking any days off, and Hongjoong made the most of his time off, well, doing more work. In retrospect, it might have been a silly idea on his part, but much like how you had explained it back to him, if it meant solidifying his position by being on the good side of his supervisor and being responsible for more things as a teaching assistant, it was worth it. But now, seeing couples roaming the streets around the city whenever he commuted into university, and generally the mere notion of having only the evenings and odd parts of the weekend to spend with you started to make him sick to the stomach. Without realizing it, he had driven himself into a corner, and he wanted out.

Before he could get any further than the usual perusal of social media, he heard the muted rattling of keys, and in a matter of seconds, the front door opened, revealing a familiar form. His eyes immediately settled on you, noting how you shrugged off your messenger bag and coat, leaving them on the ottoman in the corridor rather than hanging them up—clearly, he was not the only one tired. Nonetheless, when you raised your head after having freed yourself from the confines of your dress shoes, a smile spread across your face.

“Hi Joongie,” and just like that, his heart picked up its previously lethargic pace. 

“Welcome home my love,” the endearment slipped off his tongue, earning him an amused chuckle. 

“Mhm, missed me?”

“Maybe a little,” he played coy, knowing full well that you could read him like an open book no matter what front he put up. He returned your gleam, keeping his undivided attention on you as you sauntered off in the opposite direction. 

“I just need to change and I’ll be right back, alright?”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, the laptop and exams on the table irritated him. Hongjoong rose and tidied the papers into neater piles, shut his laptop, and arranged them all on the other side, as far away from him as possible; in his mind, should you two decide to have dinner in this room instead of the kitchen, you could sit closer to him. A win in any book. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt further up and carded his fingers through his hair, undoing a couple of unruly knots. What was he readying himself for? Maybe the answer was something beyond him, but he could not deny the warmth in his chest that grew and grew when he spotted you across the corridor once again, only now in a pair of pajama bottoms and one of the band t-shirts that he owned and you constantly borrowed.

Caught in a miniature mental disarray, he remained where he was, only slightly moving to allow for your arms to snake around his torso, and his hands to settle on your waist. Your embrace was grounding, boundless in affection, and Hongjoong gave up to the floaty sensation as he leaned in and buried his face in the crook of your neck. Surrounded by the remnants of the light, daytime perfume that you used, he found himself in paradise. He sensed a hand trail up his spine and start to toy with the longer hairs at the back of his head. This was a habit that you had only recently picked up, seeing as, for once, he was letting his hair grow longer, and he would be lying if this was not motivation for him to keep the mission going indefinitely. A warning hum erupted from somewhere deep in his chest when you lightly tugged. In a feeble attempt to mask his response to your playful caresses, he murmured:

 “How was work?”

“The usual, though it was quieter now that most people are off,” Hongjoong lifted his head and was immediately dazed by the adoration pooling in your eyes. You looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. Inadvertently, he pulled you closer, and yet still wasn’t quite satisfied.

“How’s everything for you?”

“Been focusing on the exams today, got through most of them actually.”

“Oh look at you, my scholar,” you whispered in response, tapping Hongjoong’s nose with your own. Meekly, he smiled and attempted to look away, only to be guided right back with your steady hand that had now let go of his hair, instead resting on his jaw.

“I should be the one praising you… who closed that insane project that was initially expected to be postponed into the new year, hm?”

“That I did, indeed, but doesn’t take away from how proud I am of you,” your words were honey, trickling into his ears and coating his very soul like a soothing balm.

“And I am proud of you.”

“We did well, didn’t we, Joongie?” The nickname had him wavering, tip-toeing on the edge of rationality.

“Mhm,” his next words came on their own accord, raw, vulnerable, barely audible, “I really missed you, darling.”

“But I am here, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry, I might be getting greedy,” his hands ghosted over your hips until one hand pushed you into him by the small of your back. You let out a gasp, but quickly regained your composure, clearly not taken aback. 

“Not that I mind it… Ah, is my poor Joong lonely?” after a few seconds of silence, you continued, “you are so precious, you know that?” He loved that expression you got when you basked in the glow of knowing. Knowing just how far gone Hongjoong was for you. It was embarrassing at times to reveal and admit how pathetic he could become just to see that little smirk, even just to himself, but he did not dwell on it for the reward was far too great, “tell me what you mean, baby.”

“I-... I know we agreed to keep things busy this winter but I can’t help but want… yeah, I miss you.”

“Can’t help but want me, you mean?” you detangled his intricate web in no time. Hongjoong walked in circles, while you cut straight to the chase. Maybe this was why he did not care for much at all except for your understanding and your reciprocation. He nodded, finding solace in hiding his face in your neck once more.

“Well, baby, what’s got you so pensive? Hm? Tell me?” your voice shifted from allure to sweet concern as you checked in. Hongjoong was all the more exposed, every move less calculated than the one prior, and your infinite devotion towards him, his thoughts, his everything was making him too dizzy to stand up straight.

“I just… hm, I don’t know-”

“You do, maybe are just too shy to tell me?”

“I want to spend more time with you, just us, you know? Little dates, we don’t have to do much… but I want us to be present, ah what am I even saying-”

“You were saying something that I would love to do, Hongjoong,” you were quieter than before, more tender, “we have definitely been a little relaxed after moving in together, haven't we?”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say that-”

“I would. And that won’t do. So, how about we start now, then?”

All too delectable were the images that flashed in Hongjoong’s mind, and he felt bashful and helpless under your steady scrutiny. With your pointer finger resting under his chin, he could not do anything except stare back, a task proving to be increasingly challenging as heat rose on his cheeks. His head moved on its own accord, response shallow, almost a tremble rather than agreement.

“Words, Joongie, good boys use words.”

Oh how he craved you. His stomach coiled at your dangerous reminder. Instead of any coherent phrase, vulnerable, shallow breaths danced between you and him. Nobody was his audience except you, nobody knew him like you did, and yet the sheer weight of his infatuation with you was preventing him from saying a single thing, despite any fears being irrational. As soon as he were to say what was yelling at him in his mind, you would be satisfied, and allow him to drown in everything that you were.

“Yes…” he choked out, relieved upon detecting the beginnings of a feline grin.

“Yes what? Do elaborate.”

“Yes I- want this. I want us, I want you.” 

“How?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” heart hammering in his chest, he stammered.

“In that kind of mood, are you?”

“Oh please-” he wanted to disappear, shrinking back to free himself from your hand to no avail. Your chest again his, lips a mere tilt of the head away, and his senses were flooded.

“I’d love to, Joongie, I’d love to take care of you.”

Soft lips moulded perfectly with his, like freshly fallen snow. Hongjoong’s senses went into overdrive as the kiss built up into a sultry, addictive rhythm. Teeth grazed his lower lip ever so gently, and before he could react,you deepened the kiss by resting your arms on his shoulders. Immediately his hands responded by finding purchase on your lower back. He was grateful that your mouth muffled the whine bubbling in his throat as you purposefully shifted your body into his. But somehow, it was still not enough. 

“Mh- sorry-” Parting for air was simply an excuse for Hongjoong to fish for his glasses with a trembling hand and set them down on the nearest surface. Apparently, it was not a distraction to you in the slightest.

Your onslaught continued past his plush, reddened lips and across his jaw, ending on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. He jolted, but when you chased him to nip at the same place again he took no time in giving you better access. You moved again, leaving quick pecks on his lips and pressing your forehead against his. In the breathless euphoria any chances to overthink had disappeared, and he allowed himself to let go, to be completely yours. He was willingly leaving himself to be at your mercy, knowing that he was going to be safe, going to be adored. In a flurry of emotion, he bared his soul.

“I love you,” he did not notice the shakiness in his own hands until you raced to clasp them with your own.

“I love you too, Joongie.”

It took one step for him to start following you to the bedroom. You appeared as the very notion of calm, guiding Hongjoong. You let go of one of his hands to switch on a bedside lamp, making haste to return your attention to him. He melted under your touch, half-lidded eyes following how your swift fingers undid the buttons of his shirt. You treated him like he was priceless porcelain, a touch here, another there, skillfully ghosting over the places you know, from experience, would send him reeling and falling to your feet. But it was obvious that this was not the night for such a progression. Tonight was about connecting beyond the physical, about exploring intimacy as more than just some flimsy term.

As soon as you gave the sign, Hongjoong shrugged off his top, shivering momentarily until your hands were back, roaming his chest and waist freely. Enthralled, he mumbled your name. His eyes roamed ceaselessly as you got undressed, standing proudly before him, almost fully bare, beautiful. While you had told him you changed, evidently that included a conscious decision to dress up in the most enticing lingerie - he thought it was impossible to keep falling in love like this, but he kept on proving himself wrong whenever you were with him. Even though he had seen you like this many times over, every time left him wondering how he could possibly have found someone so lovely. Words escaped him. 

“Leaving me alone like this?” you asked, a smirk etching itself into your features. You did not need to ask Hongjoong twice for him to clumsily begin undoing his trousers and settle on the edge of the bed, face flushed.

“So precious, so good to me,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his wavy locks.

When you straddled his lap and inched dangerously close to his boxers, Hongjoong swore his head was spinning. Prompted by another gentle tug at his hair, he kissed the soft skin of your breasts, one hand making quick work out of undoing your bra while the other played with the lacy fabric. 

He followed your sighs, your sharp inhales and exhales, the sounds you bit back and he would tirelessly do anything to hear. His teeth grazed you ever so lightly as he travelled from one breast to another, a trail of kisses remaining anywhere he went. You grinded your hips into his with more purpose, feeling that delicious heat starting to rise in your core. Hongjoong responded with a flick of his tongue on your nipple, humming when he could finally rid you of pesky material, leaving him with every chance to show his love for you. Fingers stimulated the one he had shifted away from, while his other hand returned to its rightful place on your lower back. 

It was as though a fire had enveloped him. There was not enough space, not enough air, and yet his only wish was to be so close to you that he could simply disappear. He was painfully aware of his hardening length, the continuous friction leaving him with half a mind to start begging. For what? Perhaps, for anything. Anything that you would give. You pulled yourself even closer, now sat directly on top of the growing wetness on his boxers, putting all the more effort into your hips. Airy mewls spilled from his lips, and he lunged to hold you, hands on your ass encouraging you to continue to untangle him at this agonising pace.

It was a game of lips, tongue and teeth. You returned to kissing him, foregoing whatever stability you tried to contain to completely sink into his form. Taken as he was by you, Hongjoong tried his best to keep up, lewd, slick noise that echoed in his ears only spurring him on. 

Your limbs were cotton, thoughts preoccupied by a carnal want. Palming his erection, you smiled against Hongjoong’s lips when he moaned.

“How’s that baby, hm?”

“Don’t stop-”

“Want more? Is that right?” feverish nods, resulting in you pulling at the elastic of his boxers, “Off,” you sat up a little to help him, balancing with your knees on the bed as he shimmied the fabric off just enough for you to push it further down to his ankles, “so pretty.”

You covered your palm in his dripping pre-cum and smoothed it down his length in a couple of skilled pumps, amused by Hongjoong’s adamance to be obedient, pursing his lips to remind himself that he shouldn’t buck into you. His gaze was fixated on your caresses, just enough to drive him mad, but not enough to take him over the edge, only ever wavering to glance at your still-clothed pussy. Judging by your momentary spell of quiet, you were trying to focus on him at the expense of your own desires. 

With another groan, Hongjoong slipped your panties to the side, calloused fingers immediately being coated in slick. Rhythmic circles over your clit turned to music to his ears as you mewled, leaning forward to find his shoulder, biting it ever so slightly. With every breathy moan his body kept on screaming for you, your warmth unbearably inviting. When he dipped two fingers into your core your movements faltered and you squeezed around his base in warning. He could lose himself then and there, sheer power of will leaving him one thread to hang by.

“Baby, can I please-”

“Say it, Joong,”

“Can we take it to the end? Please, please I-”

“If we don’t I’d be upset. I, want, you, so, bad-” you punctuated your response with pecks across his face, an ecstatic grin meeting his own.

You and him were a mess of limbs and pleasure falling onto the bed, him helping you over and pulling the panties completely off, humming at the sight. He was eager to please, ensuring you were comfortable with how you were lying down. Adjusting the pillows, placing one under your hips to avoid any strain, checking that you would not hit the headboard, stretching towards the drawer to take out a condom, speedily tearing the packaging and rolling it on. You watched him, enamoured. Beauty, inside and out, ethereal in the honey-coloured light.

He positioned himself at your entrance, gliding his tip a couple of times over your sensitive clit before pushing in. You sighed, head falling back at the relieving fullness. Your walls clenched around him as he bottomed out, making him let out a low growl. He shifted his weight forwards until his arms were on either side of you and he could indulge in your every expression.

It was a delightful stretch. Your every sense was filled by him, and only him. Then, he began to move. He started agonisingly slow, pulling out almost his entire length only to drive it back in, punctuated by the sound of skin against skin. He dragged his hips almost lazily, but you knew better than to assume that this was going to continue for much longer, given his shallow breathing.

Hiis thrusts became more accentuated, faster within a few minutes, and you searched for anything that you could hold, all too quickly losing yourself. In a feeble attempt to reach for him you lifted your arms upwards. More often than not you did not need to explain to Hongjoong what it was you wanted - he read you and understood, just like now. With a strained chuckle he edged forwards until he was close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. The feeling of your digits back in his hair had him biting his lower lip, barely containing his building high.

A particularly deep thrust made you tug at strands, and he moaned, rolling his hips with newfound vigour. Every time you clenched around him he became more frantic. The glide against your walls was perfection, the familiar coil tightening at a frightening speed towards a crashing release. Your arms collapsed when Hongjoong cursed under his breath, tapping your thighs to angle them upwards. You shifted upwards, legs barely wrapped around him as the new position gave him even more depth and freedom to pound into you.

The wetness embracing him was downright vulgar, noise enhancing the redness of his cheeks. You tensed around him, previously quiet pants transforming into a mantra of his name. He gripped your thighs in a last attempt to remain grounded, but as waves of your climax took over you and you pulsed around his cock, limbs trembling, all he could do was give in. Give into you, give into white hot euphoria. You were soaking him, he was rapidly getting overstimulated but he could not careless, remaining exactly where he was even though his muscles were screaming.

He was completely spent. Nothing but adoration towards you remained. He winced as he pulled out and hastily took off the condom, far too sensitive to function. Falling to your side, he watched the rise and fall of your chest, entranced by how even the smallest details that you possessed had their own brilliance. After a few moments you shifted, pushing the pillow from underneath you and turning to the side, facing Hongjoong. Your sleepy, but totally mesmerised gaze made his heart hurt. You. It was you who he loved, you who he lived with, you with whom he could make love like this. 

“Hi,” you whispered with a giggle.

“Hi,” he brushed your cheek and kissed you again. You lifted your arm, suggesting that he were to move closer to you. Much to his dismay, a surge of stimulation pulsed through him, making him gasp. Thankfully, you took it with good humour, eyes travelling down his body, seductive even in the afterglow. 

“I am not sure I should move just yet,” he suggested with a chuckle, astonished with himself.

“Hm… then let me get us all cleaned up and I-”

“-you are not moving either,” powering through, Hongjoong stretched his arm until it was lying across your torso. There was no force behind the action itself, except maybe in his pouting lips that you could not help but want to kiss again and again. You chuckled and feigned annoyed acceptance.

“Fine, I guess we can stay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more,” you countered.

“Impossible.”

You shifted closer until all you could see was Hongjoong’s face, and all he could see was yours. And yet, somehow, in each other’s eyes, you could see the world. Those plans you mentioned, those worries, those wishes, those desires all collected in miniature universes of the soul, reflections and projections of a life lived and to be lived together. Dreamy eyes.

📚perma-taglist: @charreddonuts @preciouswoozi @http-gyu @my-loves-my-life @yeonjunnie @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @ren-junwrld @hongjoongs-patience @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @marsstarxhwa @asjkdk @northerngalxy

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

[kisshae]

ARE YOU BORED YET? ★ YU JIMIN

PREC𝒾s ｡｡ months have passed, but the memory of karina still lingers—her glance like a thorn you can't pull out. you kissed her, and now she's further away than ever, leaving you to watch from the sidelines.

parings ? ex-best friend!karina x lovesick!fem reader ft mark (nct), intak (p1h) , manon & daniela (katseye) ★ genre , wlw friends to lovers uni au fluff tiny bit of angst!!! wc 2.6k

warning(s) , kissing reader is still badly down BAD for karina.. miscommunication jealousy

read this !! I hate fruits , part 1 , sry if this is confusing I was like rushing to finish this up for my next work...

now playing ? nomad , clario

it's been months since you last saw karina—really saw her, not just passing glances in lecture halls or stolen moments across the quad. each month has left an ache in your chest, sharp and unyielding, like a wound that refuses to heal.

you'd think the ache would dull with time, that her absence might ease the weight pressing against your ribs. but it hasn't.

instead, it's only grown worse, carving out hollow spaces inside you that fill with resentment and longing in equal measure.

and then there's mark. the way you've caught them together—his easy laugh, her blond hair catching the sunlight as she leans into him like it's the most natural thing in the world.

that was supposed to be you.

you were supposed to be the one at her side, sharing inside jokes, brushing her hand with yours when no one was looking.

but you ruined it.

you kissed her.

and now, all you can do is watch from the sidelines, choking on the bitterness of your own making. the snow crunches beneath your boots as you make your way across campus, the cold seeping into your bones.

you shove your hands deeper into your coat pockets, wishing the chill in the air could match the frost biting at your heart. she's everywhere and nowhere all at once—haunting your thoughts, lingering in the periphery of your vision, but never close enough to reach.

and you can't decide what hurts more: the memory of that kiss, or the way she looks at you now, like you're a stranger.

the market is busy for a winter afternoon, the crisp air biting at your cheeks as you push through the crowd with daniela by your side. you're bundled in layers, the thick scarf around your neck almost enough to hide your face.

it's a bit of a cozy escape from the cold, all the hustle and bustle, but still, something feels off, like you're waiting for something to happen.

you and daniela split up to grab some things, and she disappears into the restroom, leaving you to wander the aisles alone. you don't think much of it until you round a corner into the fruit alley, only to stop dead in your tracks.

there she is.

karina.

but somethings different.

her blonde hair is gone—replaced by jet black strands that peek out from under her beanie. it's such a stark contrast to the karina you're used to for a second, you almost convince yourself it's someone else.

but it's her. you'd recognize the way she stands anywhere.

she's standing at the end of the aisle, inspecting a basket of oranges, her hands gloved and delicate as she picked them up one by one. for a second, you almost forget where you are, as if the world has faded away except for her.

but you snap back to reality quickly enough, your heart beating in your throat. you could just turn around, pretend you didn't see her.

you could keep walking. you could avoid this.

but your feet won't move.

karina hasn't noticed you yet. she's lost in the small world of fruit, her brow furrowed slightly as she selects the ripest orange. you could watch her for hours if you wanted, but something inside you twists at the sight. there's that familiar ache again, a tinge of jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

it's stupid, really. she doesn't even know you're here, doesn't even know much you've been struggling to get over her.

but you can't help it.

she's too perfect.

before you can think any more about it, she looks up and catches your gaze. her eyes widen slightly, her lips parting in soft surprise. then she stands up straighter, as if she's suddenly unsure of something, and she blinks—quickly, like she's trying to reset herself.

you both freeze.

the air between you feels thick, and for a moment, it's like nothing has changed.

no time. no distance, no awkward silence between you two since the kiss. it's just her and you, standing there in the midst of winter, in a fruit aisle that feels too small for all the words neither of you have said.

karina doesn't move, her hand still hovering near the oranges.

your throat tightens, and you finally manage to speak.

"hey." it sounds so casual, too flat for how you're feeling. your stomach churns as you wonder if she'll say anything at all.

"hi," karina replies, her voice almost too soft, too polite.

and just like that, you're stuck again—two people who never really knew how to talk to each other anymore.

the silence stretches, hanging between you like the cold outside. karina's eyes flicker down to the fruit in her hand, her fingers turning the orange over slowly—carefully, like it’s something delicate she might accidentally crush.

you're the same. Frozen, watching her, unable to move.

it's just an orange, but for some reason, it feels like she’s holding a part of you, inspecting it with the same quiet intensity that makes your chest tighten.

she used to do this with you. with everything. look at you like you were something worth savoring.

but now?

now she can’t even meet your eyes for more than a few seconds without looking away.

you swallow hard, fingers curling at your sides. the fruit around you—rows of apples, pomegranates, those stupid oranges—feels too sweet, too vibrant for how bitter the pit in your stomach has become.

funny. you used to love this aisle.

now, you hate it.

the memory of her lip gloss—cherry, sugary, intoxicating—lingers like a bruise. you wonder if she still wears it, if the taste of her would still remind you of something you shouldn’t want.

“didn't think I’d see you here,” she adds, fingers still turning the orange like it’s the only thing keeping her hands busy. her eyes flick up, meeting yours briefly. “you don’t usually come to this market.”

your throat feels dry. “I could say the same about you.”

karina's lips twitch, almost like she’s about to smile, but it never fully forms. “guess we’re both full of surprises.”

you shift on your feet, pretending to glance over the fruit as if this conversation isn’t the only thing grounding you right now. “yeah. I guess so.”

another stretch of silence. the kind that says everything neither of you are willing to. karina looks down at the orange again, voice softer this time. “how've you been?”

the question sinks in, slow and heavy. it feels like a trap—like she’s opening a door just enough to see if you’ll step through. “fine,” you lie. “busy, you know. classes and all that.”

she nods, but something in her expression shifts—like she doesn’t quite believe you. “right.” her eyes flicker over you, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “you look good,” she murmurs, almost like an afterthought.

your breath catches, and for a second, you forget how to respond. “thanks,” you manage, voice tighter than you’d like. “you too.”

karina hums, her gaze softening—but before you can say anything else, daniela's voice cuts through the stillness.

“you ready to go?”

suddenly, daniela's at your side, brushing water off her coat sleeve. she glances between you and Karina with an arched brow, clearly sensing the tension but not addressing it.

karina's expression hardens just enough for you to notice.

that softness—the small, unspoken part of her that seemed like it might reach out to you again—disappears.

her eyes drop to daniela, lips pressing into a thin line as if she’s biting back words she won’t let slip.

it's subtle. barely noticeable if you weren’t so tuned into her. But you are.

and it’s enough.

karina looks back at you, and for the first time since the party, you see it—the same thing that flashed across her face when she saw you with manon.

jealousy.

she doesn’t say anything else, just holds your gaze for a lingering second too long before turning back to the fruit display, her grip on the orange tightening slightly.

you could say something.

you should. but you don’t.

daniela's arm loops through yours, tugging lightly, but you hesitate—just for a second. your eyes drift back to karina, still standing there with that orange cradled in her palm. she's not looking at the fruit anymore.

she's watching you.

for a fleeting moment, her lips part, like she's about to say something. but the words don't come. and maybe they never will.

you force a small smile, even though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. "see you later," you murmur, the words slipping out quieter than intended.

karina's gaze flickers, something unreadable crossing her face. it looks almost like regret—or maybe it's just the lighting playing tricks on you.

"yeah," she replies softly. but the way she's still watching you makes it feel like she wanted to say more. like maybe if daniela wasn't there, she would've.

but it's too late.

the carnival is alive with lights and laughter, even in the biting cold. you adjust your camera strap, exhaling a puff of frosty air as the ferris wheel looms ahead. intak and daniela are somewhere back near the food stalls, probably bickering over churros, and manon is likely laughing at both of them. you needed the space, the quiet, to lose yourself in the view from above.

but as you shuffle forward in the line, you catch sight of a familiar figure.

karina.

your heart stutters. she's standing a few spots ahead, bundled in a black coat, her hair now dark as midnight and curling slightly at the ends. there's no sign of Mark, or anyone else for that matter. she's alone.

your thoughts spiral—did they break up? you shouldn’t care. you don’t care. but the thought nags at you, unwanted and unshakable.

the line moves, and suddenly, it’s your turn. the attendant waves you forward, and as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, karina is ushered into the same car.

she hesitates for a moment before sliding in, leaving just enough room for you to follow. the bar clicks into place, trapping you both in an awkward silence as the ride jolts to life.

the city begins to unfold below, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes, but you can’t focus on the view. all you can think about is her. how perfect she looks, even now. how her presence makes it impossible to breathe, impossible to think.

“i'm sorry.”

the words come out of nowhere, breaking the silence like the snap of a branch. You blink, startled, meeting her gaze.

“what?”

she exhales, her breath visible in the chilly air. “i'm sorry for what happened at the party. for... pushing you away like that.” her hands fidget in her lap. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

your chest tightens. the memory of that night feels like a fresh wound, sharp and unhealed.

“scared of what?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

karina hesitates, her eyes darting away to the lights below. “of what people would think. of what it would mean... if they saw me kissing a girl.”

the admission hits you like a punch to the gut. “so you were embarrassed?” the words tumble out before you can stop them, harsher than you meant.

her head snaps up, eyes wide. “No, I—” she bites her lip, searching for the right words. “I wasn’t embarrassed of you. I was embarrassed of myself. I wasn’t ready for people to know.”

you stare at her, the cold seeping through your gloves, but it doesn’t compare to the ache spreading through your chest. “it felt like you were.”

the ferris wheel creaks, the car swaying gently as it reaches the top. karina looks at you, her expression a mix of regret and something else you can’t quite place. “i'm sorry,” she whispers again.

and for a moment, you let yourself wonder if she means it—if she truly understands what she did to you.

the ferris wheel finally comes to a halt at the bottom, and you feel a sudden rush to get off, like if you stay in that small, enclosed space with karina any longer, you might lose control. the ride jerks to a stop, and you’re practically out of the seat before it’s even fully halted, your legs unsteady as you rush toward the exit.

the cold air hits you like a slap in the face, and you don’t stop walking—can’t stop walking. your heart is thundering, pounding against your ribs, and you need distance.

you need space. But then, you feel it. a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back, spinning you around. karina stands there, her expression wide, filled with sorrow, her eyes soft like she’s about to break.

you swallow, your throat dry, trying to force out words. “karina…”

she doesn’t let go, pulling you closer as if she can’t bear the distance between you any longer. her other hand comes up to cup your face, her fingers trembling slightly, but it doesn’t stop her.

you blink up at her, breath catching. “please… let go,” you whisper, a warning. “if you don’t, I might do something stupid.”

something stupid. like kiss her again.

karina's gaze flickers, and for a moment, you think she’ll pull away, but instead, she steps closer, her chest brushing yours, closing the distance. she lowers her voice, her words soft but sure.

“nothing you do could ever be stupid,” she says, her breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

her eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, as if she’s trying to find the right words, the right moment. she takes a breath, steadying herself before she says, "I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that night… about how you kissed me, how you made me feel. and I hate it, because it doesn’t fit into my world, but I can’t help it. I can’t stop wanting you.”

your breath catches in your throat, your pulse thundering in your ears. the confession hangs in the air between you, raw and vulnerable, and for a moment, you think you might explode from the weight of it all.

“I—I didn’t want to hurt you,” karina continues, her voice cracking. “but I was terrified. terrified of what everyone would think, of what it meant. I thought I could just ignore it, just bury it, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

you feel your hands tremble as you reach up, cupping her face, drawing her gaze back to yours. “so you’re not embarrassed of me?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.

her eyes soften, and she shakes her head. “no, never. I was just scared of myself. scared of what I was feeling for you.”

before you can say anything else, her lips find yours again, urgent and unrestrained, as if she’s trying to prove something to both of you. she kisses you like it’s the only thing that matters, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

when she pulls back, her voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s there, raw and open. “i'm sorry it took me so long to get here... but I don’t want to waste any more time pretending.”

the world around you seems to fade, and for the first time in months, you feel a rush of clarity. the ache, the longing, the confusion—it’s all gone, replaced by something even more overwhelming, something real.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you say, your voice steady for the first time tonight. but even as the words leave your mouth, a thought lingers at the back of your mind—a quiet question that refuses to be ignored.

is this really it? is this the start of something new, or is it just another chapter of chaos in the story you’ve both been trapped in?

you don’t know. but for now, you choose to stay here, in this moment, with karina—hoping that it might be enough.

[nosyp]

Twst First Years reacting to you wearing their dorm uniform

Second years | Third years

Ace Trappola

Smirks when he sees you in the uniform and raises an eyebrow.

“So, you’re trying to steal my style, huh?” He’d say it teasingly, CLEARLY enjoying the sight.

He might try to act like seeing you in his clothes doesn't do anything to him, but there’s a visible pink tint to his ears that you can't ignore

"It’s not bad on you, I guess..." He'd pretend not to care, but deep down, he’s a little flustered by how cute you look.

He’d probably challenge you to a little prank or something while you’re wearing it, to see if you can keep your cool.

“If you wear it like that, you might just steal my spotlight, huh?”

Deuce Spade

His face turns bright red the moment he sees you.

"W-W-What are you doing?!" He stammers out, trying to act like he didn’t just see you in the uniform.

He’d quickly avert his eyes, not knowing where to look.

“You can’t just wear that! It’s not-uh-it’s not like you look bad or anything, it just… feels weird.”

He’s so flustered that he can’t even make a decent compliment without messing up. LMAOOO

He would be lowkey worried about you getting in trouble for wearing his uniform. “Please don’t tell Riddle…”

Deep down, though, he secretly thinks you look adorable and is 100% not mad about it. Just... let him figure out how to tell you that.

Jack Howl

He’s initially calm and composed, but his wagging tail gives away how he feels.

He notices how cute you look in the uniform, but doesn’t want to say it outright.

“It suits you,” he says, trying to keep a neutral tone.

His ears twitch nervously, and he might mutter something like, “Just don’t... make it weird, alright?”

Jack tries to act like it doesn’t faze him at all, but his eyes linger a little longer than he means to.

If you ask for his opinion, he might get a little embarrassed but still offer, “It looks nice on you. Just... don’t get it dirty, okay?”

Deep down, though, he’s secretly proud of how you wear it.

Epel Felmier

He crosses his arms and glares at you playfully. "You better not stretch it out!"

“Honestly, it’s a bit too big for you, isn’t it?” he says with a huff, but he can’t stop his face from turning pink.

He tries to act annoyed, but there’s a clear softness in his eyes.

"You’re lucky you look good in it, otherwise I’d be making you pay for borrowing it!" he says, half-joking, but there's a tiny hint of embarrassment behind his words.

“I guess you look... okay in it.” He tries to sound casual, but he’s a little flustered by how cute you look.

He might even start taking a mental note of how to make sure it’s not too “ruined” when you’re done.

Secretly, he’s totally fine with you wearing it.

Sebek Zigvolt

His eyes widen in shock the moment he sees you. “What are you doing wearing that?!”

Immediately starts lecturing you about respecting Diasomnia’s honor. “You can’t just wear this! It’s a symbol of Lord Malleus’s greatness! You have not earned the privilege of wearing this!”

Glares at you with a scowl, but his eyes linger on you for a second longer than he intends.

“You’re lucky it doesn’t look too bad on you,” he grumbles, clearly flustered.

If you tease him, he’ll deny being jealous but will try to act like he’s not impressed.

But inside, he’s a little flustered and secretly impressed, but he’ll never admit it.

[devildomwriter]

Presents for Wrapping | Diavolo & Barbatos x Reader

1K+ Word Count | GN! Reader | CW: Polygamy

You enjoyed the sound of tearing paper as you munched on sugar cookies, courtesy of Barbatos.

Diavolo clumsily tried to glide his scissors through the wrapping paper as he sat puzzled on the floor watching his butler pull it off perfectly.

Diavolo frowned but he was nothing if not persistent and kept trying. The edges of the paper were choppy at best but it wouldn’t matter if he wrapped it properly.

“You fold it like this Young Master,” Barbatos instructed and Diavolo nodded eagerly and folded his paper over the gift in the same manner.

“Now make these parts into triangles.”

“Right,” he nodded and made an attempt to do the same. He frowned as it didn’t look like Barbatos’s. Not even yours looked like Barbatos’s and you were the one who wrapped the gifts for all of the brothers because they often failed to do it themselves or used boring bags.

You finished your cookie and joined Diavolo and Barbatos on the carpet where they’d made their gift-wrapping station. It turned into more of a gift-wrapping training center for Diavolo as it seems the man who could build a rocket from scratch could not properly tape things down.

Diavolo gave you a pout enticing you to pinch his cheek and encourage him further. He nodded determinedly and Barbatos sighed and shook his head.

“You mustn’t encourage his pouting, ___,” Barbatos shook his head at you but you shrugged.

“He’s too cute, I can’t help it,” you admitted and Diavolo brightened up and smiled triumphantly at his exhausted butler.

“Fine,” Barbatos relented, “but until you can wrap that gift without messing up,” Barbatos walked over to you and sat behind you pulling you into his chest, “___ will be all mine.”

Diavolo gasped in shock from the steward’s betrayal and you laughed and leaned into Barbatos who kissed your head and looked back up to grin smugly at Diavolo.

Diavolo huffed and staring closely at Barbato’s example gift he looked down at his again and back and forth between the two…again…and again.

You and Barbatos gave each other concerned looks and for a moment Barbatos felt sympathetic but when you rested your head against his chest he completely forgot to pity his prince.

Barbatos reached behind him and took a cookie off the tray to feed you. You munched away happily as Diavolo began to panic at his poor-looking wrap-job.

“B-Barbatos…” he pleaded and Barbatos shook his head and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Young Master…you wanted to join us remember…”

“Because you were doing it without me.”

“Yes, well…can you blame me?” Barbatos countered and looked pointedly at the presents Diavolo had wrapped.

Diavolo stared at the poorly done pile and snapped his fingers, correcting them with magic.

He looked back at Barbatos happily, “perfect.”

“Not so fast, we agreed not to use magic. We’re doing things the way ___ does them.”

Diavolo looked at you for help but you nodded and his shoulders sagged as he decided to try again.

“You’ve got this,” you cheered one boyfriend on as you relaxed in the arms of another who was now playing with your hair and brushing it out of your face.

You and Barbatos looked shocked as Diavolo’s scissors slid through the wrapping paper with ease.

Barbatos shook his head, “alright. You’ve achieved step one, let’s see you wrap it.” He prodded and Diavolo nodded with a confident grin.

Diavolo set the gift for Lucifer in the middle. A nice tie in a small blue box. Lucifer had been eyeing it while flipping through a catalog so you’d immediately informed Diavolo as the tie was far out of your budget. It was a tiny gift, he’d need to minimize the folds. You and Barbatos watched closely as if you were judging a sport and Diavolo noticed and bit his lip nervously.

He successfully taped the first side down and you and Barbatos nodded approvingly. He taped the next side down and it was even, impressive only because it was the first time he pulled it off. Next was the tricky part—folding down the ends.

He paused and made the motions with his hands before actually grabbing the paper and pushing the ends inward into two small triangles.

Barbatos looked surprised and you giggled in excitement as Diavolo looked more and more proud of himself. Finally, Diavolo folded the paper in and up and quickly taped it down without folding the tape over itself.

Now the final test. Doing the other side just as well.

You and Barbatos watched with bated breath as finally, after twenty-plus tries, Diavolo taped the last edges down and completed a flawlessly wrapped gift.

Diavolo looked at you both, eyes shining, imaginary tail wagging excitedly.

You got to your feet and clapped. Barbatos sighed but lightly clapped for his Young Master’s achievement as well.

“I did it! Look how perfect it is, ___!” Diavolo exclaimed and showed you the box.

“It’s amazing, Diavolo!” You congratulated and kissed his cheek.

He blushed and held the gift close to his chest as he processed your affection.

“How many more do we have left to do now?”

You and Barbatos stared at the pile of gifts—a result of Diavolo going overboard with his friends, per usual.

Diavolo followed your gaze and frowned. “It seems we’ll be at this a while.”

“Why don’t you just watch for now…” Barbatos suggested and Duavolo sighed and nodded.

“Okay, but now it’s my turn,” he declared and scooped you into his arms.

Barbatos shook his head mad tossed a gift to Diavolo who caught it in surprise.

“You wrap that one,” Barbatos firmly suggested and Diavolo sighed.

“I suppose it would be best to get these wrapped quickly, then I can spend all the time I want with you, ___,” Diavolo grinned and his butler grinned mischievously behind him.

“Myself included of course,” he reminded and Diavolo frowned.

“Yes, very well…the three of us, then.”

[libingan]

merry christmas! 🎁🎄

here it is, people… the christmas fic!!!!! sorry if its so fucking corny it was funnier in my head

can someone please draw them wearing ugly sweaters i need it

the holidays were finally here, and you were determined to make this christmas with task force 141 one that none of you would ever forget. while most people spent the season relaxing and enjoying family time, you knew your family was a little different. the bond you shared with the team was unspoken, but it was there, and it had to be celebrated. and what better way to celebrate than with some over-the-top christmas sweaters?

for weeks, you worked tirelessly to create the most garish, ridiculous sweaters you could think of. your needles clicked, glittered buttons and pom-poms strewn across your workspace, and christmas music blared in the background as you tried your best to make something that was both fun and festive. but in all honesty? the result was so catastrophically ugly that it could only be described as an art form.

soap’s sweater was a brilliant lime green, decorated with a mismatched, wonky santa face, complete with googly eyes that jiggled and wobbled as he moved. ghost’s sweater was black, of course, in keeping with his usual aesthetic, but it was covered in neon-red snowflakes and the words “silent night, deadly night” in garish gold lettering. price’s sweater was navy blue, with a slightly crooked reindeer stitched onto the front, its antlers weighted down by jingly plastic bells that rang with every move he made. gaz’s was a bright red abomination, with a patchwork christmas tree that looked like it had been made by a blindfolded toddler. the tree was adorned with buttons, glitter, and tiny battery-powered fairy lights that blinked in a chaotic, seizure-inducing pattern. and yours? well, yours was a glittery train wreck—candy-cane stripes, mismatched pom-poms, and snowflakes that you’d glued on so haphazardly that some were already starting to peel off.

you waited anxiously, a grin spread wide across your face, as you handed the sweaters out to the team. soap was the first to laugh, an obnoxious, joyful sound that filled the room. “bloody brilliant!” he declared, already slipping it over his head. gaz eagerly followed, adjusting the blinking lights on his sweater with a wide grin. “it’s ugly as hell, but it’s festive!” he cheered, playfully tugging on his sleeves.

but when price looked at the sweater you handed him, his brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered. ghost was even more nonchalant, barely even looking at his sweater. “i’m not wearing that,” he stated simply, his mask hiding any trace of emotion.

you felt your heart sink at their disapproval. you had spent so much time making these sweaters, and now it seemed like your grand idea was going to fall flat. you tried to hide your disappointment, but it was impossible to mask the way your shoulders slumped and the way the grin on your face faded into a frown.

soap, ever the optimist, was quick to notice. “c’mon, lads,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “it’s christmas. don’t leave her hanging like that.” gaz nodded along, nudging ghost’s side. “yeah, don’t be such buzzkills. we’re doing this for fun.”

price sighed, rubbing his temple. “fine,” he said, clearly resigned to the idea, though you could see he wasn’t thrilled about it. ghost, after a long moment of silent contemplation, muttered a low curse and finally relented. “fine,” he growled, pulling the sweater over his head with a scowl. “but don’t expect me to smile for any damn photos.”

you couldn’t help but beam as the team finally agreed. “thank you,” you whispered, relieved and a little giddy. the fact that they were willing to humor you meant more than you could put into words.

-

the photo shoot began with a sense of awkwardness, but it quickly turned into something far more ridiculous than anyone had imagined. you set up a makeshift photo booth in the corner of the common area. christmas lights twinkled in every direction, and a small, crooked tree stood beside you, barely hanging onto its plastic glory. soap insisted on decorating it with tinsel and a few odd-looking ornaments he’d found lying around the base, including a couple of empty bullet casings.

the first shot was a classic group pose. soap threw an arm around your shoulder, his face lit up with a grin that could rival the sun. gaz stood beside you, striking a finger-gun pose with a cocky smirk, his sweater lights flashing erratically. price and ghost stood behind you, stiff and reluctant, but still part of the scene. price gave a half-smile that was more out of politeness than enjoyment, while ghost’s body language screamed discomfort, but he didn’t look entirely miserable.

the second shot was even more chaotic. soap, in a moment of pure genius, turned his sweater around so santa’s googly eyes stared blankly at the camera. ghost, ever the minimalist, crossed his arms, giving a deadpan expression as he tilted his head, pretending to be menacing. gaz tangled himself in his sweater lights as if they were trying to strangle him, and you knelt in front of him, holding a candy cane like it was an ancient weapon.

for the third photo, you decided to switch it up. this time, you all got creative with silly props you’d found around the base. soap grabbed a small santa hat and dramatically placed it on your head, pulling you into a ridiculous pose where he pretended to be your personal bodyguard. gaz stood beside you, holding an oversized candy cane like it was a weapon, while you struck a playful pose, holding up a mug filled with what was definitely not eggnog but still looked festive. ghost and price, unable to resist the chaos any longer, found themselves joining in as well. ghost raised a plastic cup as if toasting to the absurdity of it all, and price, ever the soldier, saluted with his mug.

and then came the final shot, the crowning glory of the evening. soap and gaz carefully lifted your legs while price took the middle, and ghost reluctantly held your shoulders. you struck a triumphant pose, arms thrown in the air like you’d just conquered the world. soap joked, “light as a feather, lass. guess we’ve been lifting too much.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. this was the moment you had dreamed of—a memory you would cherish forever.

-

the photo session finally came to a close, but you weren’t quite done yet. you stepped forward, cupping each of their faces gently as you planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. soap, never one to shy away from affection, let out a loud laugh and gave you a playful wink. gaz blushed, his smile turning sheepish as he muttered a quiet thank you. price gave you a resigned but soft look, and ghost—stoic as ever—simply leaned into the kiss, his body language telling you more than his words ever could.

“merry christmas,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell with warmth.

“merry christmas,” soap said, grinning widely. gaz and price both offered quiet chuckles, and even ghost nodded slightly, his mask hiding the faintest hint of a smile.

it wasn’t a picture-perfect holiday—far from it—but in that moment, surrounded by your favorite people in the ugliest sweaters ever created, it was exactly what christmas should be: fun, silly, and filled with love.

after the photos were taken, you couldn’t bear for them to be tucked away somewhere forgotten. instead, you had one framed—the last photo, the one where they were all carrying you in their arms like a queen. you decided it would be perfect to hang it somewhere everyone could see, so you found a spot in the mess hall. it wasn’t glamorous, but it was home, and it was filled with laughter and memories. and now, every time the team passed by that spot, they’d see the ridiculous photo—and remember the holiday you all shared.

[childrenofcain-if]

Wait so ur telling me that Mom got pregnant with us when she was still in college? As a person who's had many pregnancy scare before I graduated college, it mustn't have been easy for her at all 🙁 did she even want to keep us? Or did Elias convince her to do that?

your mother sat on the edge of her dorm bed, the small square of mattress barely big enough to hold her. ‘fake plastic trees’ by radiohead played from the CD player where she’d inserted the signed copy of ‘the bends’ that elias gifted her for her birthday last year.

she felt smaller than the girl who used to sit cross-legged on her childhood bed, staring at the posters she had of R.E.M. and the cranberries, tuning out the shouts downstairs.

now, though, it wasn’t shouts she tuned out but her own thoughts. they were loud and disjointed, clashing like mismatched cymbals in her head, each one sharp enough to make her wince.

her hand rested flat against her stomach. the knowledge of you being there was like holding a fragile, heavy truth in the palm of her hand. it would not be a lie to say she loved you—not yet. but it was too soon, too abstract.

it would also not be a lie to say she feared you. that was probably closer to the mark.

she was twenty years old, and for twenty years, she had walked a line. one side was her mother, all blunt edges and scarred softness, hollowed out by betrayal and depression. the other side was her father, all cruelty wrapped in a charming exterior he presented to everyone else but his own family.

she had walked the tightrope, feeling it shift beneath her with every fight, every slammed door, every time her father disappeared for days, weeks, only to return smelling of perfume that wasn’t her mother’s.

and to think it all started when her father had called her mother ruined. ruined. he said it with the kind of disdain reserved for something you’d like to throw away but can’t even be bothered to muster the energy to do so.

it was after her brother was born, and everything about her mother seemed different: softer in some places, scarred in others.

the postpartum weight clung to her body like an unwanted guest, and though her father never said it directly, he didn’t have to. his glances said enough. his hands, which used to linger on her waist, now found the armrests of his chair instead.

her mother’s descent was slow after that, like the drip of a faucet you don’t notice until it’s flooded the sink. she spent her days shuffling around the house, a glass of something amber in her hand, her white robe hanging loosely on her frame. she looked at your mother and her brother with eyes that didn’t seem to recognize them.

the crying started shortly after. not your mother’s, not yet, but the baby’s. it was shrill and loud, as most babies’ cries are.

your mother remembered watching her mother pick up the baby, her hands trembling, her voice high and thin as she pleaded for him to stop.

he didn’t stop.

her mother’s voice then got even louder.

“stop it!” she screamed, and when that didn’t work, she shook him. not gently, not in the way that you’re supposed to handle babies. her movements were rough and desperate, her arms jerking back and forth with a force that made your mother’s stomach drop.

your mother didn’t remember moving, only that suddenly she was there, her tiny hands gripping her mother’s arm, trying to pull her away from her baby brother.

“stop!” she cried, her own voice breaking now, tears streaming down her face. “you’re hurting him!”

for a moment, her mother froze, her chest heaving, her face crumpled with something that might have been regret or might have been rage. she looked at your mother like she didn’t know her, like she was seeing a stranger. then she dropped the baby back into the crib and stumbled out of the room.

your mother held her brother that night, rocking him back and forth until his cries softened into hiccups.

she didn’t sleep well for several nights after that. she couldn’t.

by the time your mother was a teenager, she had learned how to read the silence in a room.

she could tell by the way her father’s jaw tightened when he glanced at her mother that he was one argument away from leaving. she could tell by the way her mother avoided mirrors that she hated herself more than she hated her husband.

her father eventually did leave, of course. men like him always did. he didn’t pack a suitcase or make a scene; he just stopped coming home.

for a while, your mother thought that might be a relief. it wasn’t.

her mother spiraled without him. the drinking got worse, and with it came the harsh words and the slammed doors and the nights your mother spent sitting on the floor outside her mother’s room, listening to her sob into her pillow as she tried to coax this grown woman to eat something.

your mother had promised herself that she would be nothing like either of them.

she would not love the way her mother had loved, giving so much of herself away that there was nothing left but the empty shell of a woman who could barely hold a crying baby without wanting to hurt him.

she would not hurt the way her father had hurt, tearing holes in the fabric of their family until there was nothing left to stitch together.

and yet here she was, a junior at yale, staring at the old posters of her favourite bands in her dorm and feeling the exact same fear her mother must have felt.

it was like looking into a fucking mirror.

[4linos]

not about the gift.

hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

synopsis: hyunjin’s beautiful yet expensive christmas present causes an unexpected rift between you.

wc: 1282

part 7/8 holiday series. 🎄

It was Christmas morning, and the soothing glow of the tree's sparkling lights warmed the room. The aroma of fresh coffee persisted in the air, while outside, a little sprinkling of snow transformed the area into a winter wonderland. Everything seemed perfect.

You and Hyunjin had been planning this holiday together for weeks, discussing ways to celebrate. As always, you wanted to keep things simple, enjoy each other's company, and concentrate on the tiny, meaningful moments. You had decided on a budget for your gifts since you wanted to keep things fair, especially when your funds didn't exactly match. Hyunjin, with his work and success, made far more than you, and you'd always been clear that you didn't want him to feel obligated to spend excessively on you. "I don't need anything big," you said a few weeks ago, smiling to comfort him. "Let's keep things simple. It's about the thought, not the price."

But now, as you sat on the couch, surrounded by wrapping paper and scattered gifts, you noticed a tightening in your chest. Hyunjin's present to you was a nicely wrapped package filled with expectation. His eyes were bright with enthusiasm as he gave it to you, and his smile was wide, almost as if he couldn't wait for you to open it. "Go ahead," he urged, his voice filled with excitement. "I think you'll really love it." You smiled back, appreciating his excitement, but as you untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper, your heart sank.

Inside the box was a beautiful customized necklace made of gold and diamonds, with your initials inscribed in elegant calligraphy. The price was apparent, much exceeding anything you had expected or desired. It was gorgeous, but it also served as a reminder of everything that had gone unspoken, and everything that had been slowly piling up inside you. Hyunjin's eyes were bright as he waited for your response, but you couldn't force yourself to smile. Instead, your face dropped. You could feel the warmth leaving the room, and an uneasy hush fell between you.

"Hyunjin..." you began, barely above a whisper, but the words remained in your throat. He looked at you, his smile fading as he saw your reaction. "What's wrong?" Don't you like it? I thought you would love it." You opened your mouth to speak but struggled to form the words. Finally, you took a deep breath and forced yourself to be honest, even if the words came out sharper than you planned. "I told you not to get something like this," you murmured, your voice quivering from frustration. "I told you we should stick to the budget we agreed on. I do not... I don't need anything like this."

Hyunjin looked taken aback, evidently upset by your words. His expression changed from confusion to defensiveness, and the room began to get colder for a brief while. "I thought you'd be happy," he replied, his voice softer but with an edge to it. "I wanted to give you something special. "Something you deserved." You drew a breath, but it did not make you feel better. The frustration you had been suppressing for weeks finally erupted, and you couldn't stop it. "You don't get it, do you?" you said. “You always do this. You go out of your way to buy expensive things, that I can't afford to purchase in return. Do you think I don’t feel that?”

Hyunjin's face fell, his eyes widening with a mix of uncertainty and pain. "What do you mean?" "I worked extra hours this month," you explained, your voice trembling with emotion. "I worked my ass off to get you something, even if it wasn't nearly as expensive as this. I wanted to show you how much I care, yet it doesn't feel important. You ignored what I said, and now I feel like I’m not enough.”

The words were out before you could stop them, and when they were, you felt a strong sense of regret. Hyunjin had just tried to do something nice for you, something he felt you would like. But the contrast between his extravagant gift and your small one was too much, and the difference hurt more than you could have imagined.

He opened his lips to say something, but you could feel the hurt in his eyes, as if you were both on different wavelengths at the time. His shoulders fell, and for a little, agonizing moment, you both stared at each other in silence.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel this way,” he finally said, his voice hoarse, like it took all of him to get the words out. “I just wanted to make you feel special. You mean everything to me, and I wanted to show you how much I care, but I see now that I messed up. I’m sorry.”

You sat there, feeling the weight of his apology, but it didn’t make the hurt go away. You had wanted something simple, something you could share and enjoy together, not a reminder of the differences between you. You had wanted to feel like you were on equal footing, but instead, you felt small, like you didn’t measure up.

You glanced at the necklace again, feeling the ache in your chest deepen. “It’s not about the gift,” you said softly, your eyes beginning to water. “It’s about the fact that I don’t feel like you understand. I’ve told you how I feel, but you keep doing this making me feel like I can’t keep up.”

Hyunjin’s face crumpled in regret. He reached out for your hand, his touch gentle, but you pulled it back, unable to meet his gaze.

“I didn’t think about that,” he said, his voice full of shame. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make you happy, but I see now that I made it worse. You’re right, I didn’t listen to what you said.”

You sat in silence for a while, unsure what to say next. The weight of the fight lingered, heavy and unyielding, but you still wanted to make things right. You still loved him and didn't want the day to be ruined, but it felt like the holes in your relationship were expanding, exposing issues neither of you had previously addressed. Finally, you spoke, your voice gentle and laced with regret. "I don't want to fight. I just want us to be on the same page. I want us to be able to talk about things openly without turning into this."

Hyunjin nodded, his eyes filled with emotion. "I promise to do better. I will listen to you. Whatever happens, I'll make sure we're on the same page. I never wanted to make you feel this way. I'm really sorry." You looked at him, saw the sincerity in his eyes, and despite your pain, you felt a glimmer of hope. It would take time to work through this and find a method to balance your different stages of life, but maybe, just maybe, you could do it together.

You reached for his hand, this time letting him take it, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

“I don’t want anything to come between us,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I just want to be with you.”

Hyunjin squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in reassurance. “I want that too. I want us to be happy, together. Let’s make it right, okay?”

You nodded, and for the first time that morning, you both breathed a little easier. The gift may have caused a rift, but it was only a moment, and you weren’t going to let it define your relationship.

Together, you’d figure it out.

//

[taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie..]

[bloggerspam]

Merry Christmas Eve! We're in the home stretch now. :)

===

"Alright Ghost of the Here and Now,"

Jason grumbles with false bravado, "Lay it on me. What are you gonna show me? Bruce yelling at me? Alfred's disappointment? Dickie's New and Exciting Life?"

Danny simply stares at him in silent disappointment. The ghost is floating, his legs gone and merged into a ghostly tail. He's floating this way and that, humming as he observes Jason slumped on his bed.

Jason huffs, impatient after his ordeal with Dani, and decides to be a little shit. "Do you change sizes too? Like the one in the book does?"

Danny considers him for a moment, before smiling. Jason blinks, and suddenly Danny is gone.

He straightens up, looking this way and that for the ghost. He couldn't have just..left, right?

A little chirrup freezes him, looking down at his lap towards the source of the sound.

Danny, apparently, can change sizes.

He looks exactly the same, just miniature now, in his lap. Ghostly tail a little longer, face and eyes a little more rounder, hands little paws.

Just a little guy.

"Huh." Jason cradles Danny in his palms, bringing him up to his face, "Cool. Can you talk like that too? Or just the chirping?"

Baby Danny grins, tiny teeth sharp, as the miniature medallion on his chest begins to whir. He reaches up and boops Jason on the nose, causing him to blink against not just the action but also the sudden flash of green.

When his eyes open up again, Jason is sitting on the ledge of an unfamiliar building overlooking an unfamiliar city.

"This is Jump City." Danny's voice startles him, almost making him flinch off the building. Thankfully, his bat-training kicks in so he doesn't fall.

"Think happy thoughts." Not so thankfully, Danny, now back to human size, pushes him off the building anyway.

He screams, hands automatically reaching to grab for a grapple gun that isn't there. Fuck.

Fuck!!!

Jason tries to look for a ledge, anything to break his fall, when suddenly and abruptly his fall stops.

A moment of vertigo later, he realizes he's been grabbed by some unknown force and is floating.

"You didn't think happy thoughts." He looks around and notices that Danny is below him, looking up with a shit-eating grin.

"O-only psychopaths," Jason breathes out through his sheer panic, "Would think happy thoughts when they're falling off a fucking building."

Danny chortles out a loud laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Besides," Jason gulps to get his heart back in control, "You're not Peter Pan."

"You're right." Danny floats around and above him, Jason's body floating to follow, "But much as we joke about it, I'm not the Ghost of Christmas Present either."

"I guess it would be pointless to show me something I already know." Jason surmises, finally getting his heart in control. Danny must have some kind of telekinesis, different from Dani.

"I'd argue against that," Danny shrugs, "But I have a feeling you're good at twisting things."

"I resent that." Jason huffs, "I see what I see."

"Debatable." Danny huffs back, finally finding the building he was looking for and touching them down on a very large T-shaped building. "Besides, I've got something you won't be able to finagle your way out of."

"Finagle," Jason scoffs, "Whatever. Where even are we? Weird fucking shape for a building."

"It's Titans Tower." Danny smirks, walking up a set of stairs to the helipad, "You know, your brother's home?"

Jason jolts, looking around more closely. He hasn't been to the Tower yet, though Dickie promised he would bring him Christmas Break. It's….

"Really in your face huh?" Danny chuckles, "And I thought my house was obnoxious."

"It…sure is something." Jason agrees, wondering what Bruce thinks about all this.

He must know, right? Bruce ‘paranoid is my state of being’ Wayne couldn't have been okay with this. Titans Tower is glaringly obvious, on its own little island just a little bit away from the city. Was this Dickie's idea? Rebellion? And Bruce just lets him?

Then again, Dickie is the golden child. Can't do no wrong, even now he supposes.

But Dickie can't be serious, right? Like, he's just got his superhero base just….out there. For all and sundry to just. Know.

How can Dickie even sleep at night?

Danny grabs his hand suddenly, pulling him off to the side of the helipad and putting a finger to his lips. Jason nods, knowing the deal by now.

A second later, they go invisible just as the noise of an aircraft enters the sky.

They wait as the aircraft lands, watching as the Titans empty out in an exhausted jumble. They jostle each other, ribbing and bantering and familiar. Jason recognizes them from Dickie's pictures, feeling a pang of something go through him at how comfortable each and every one of them are with each other.

"Rob." Cyborg suddenly jolts up, frantically tapping at something on the computer on his arm.

"It's Nightwing, Cy." Dickie, in his Nightwing uniform, chuckles as he emerges from behind the pack to step onto the roof. "Robin is my darling brother now, remember?"

Jason bites his lip, to prevent any noise from coming out. Danny squeezes his hand and he realizes he's stepped forward a bit, towards Dickie.

He looks…the same, but different. His hair's reaching his butt, for God's sake. He always kept it long, but it couldn't have been that long, right? It was at his shoulders or something the last time he saw his brother. His uniform is a little different too: he's got padded gauntlets to go with his utility belt now.

He looks haggard, tired smile and slumping shoulders and all.

"Dick." Cyborg's voice is grave, making Jason tense. What happened? "Comms are back online."

Dickie straightens up, exhausted playfulness suddenly alert and serious. He pulls out a communicator from his utility belt and scans the multitude of messages he seems to be receiving.

Jason watches as the other Titans do the same, all reacting in staggered effect as they each have varied amounts of notifications.

It's Starfire's reaction that makes Jason pull against Danny's grip. A hand covers his mouth, the other arm coming around to grip at Jason and keep him still as he struggles.

Starfire has a hand covering her mouth, dropping the communicator and frantically going over to Dickie who is, who's…

Something breaks in Nightwing's hands. His communicator? Jason didn't even know he was that strong, didn't know that was possible. But no, it seems to be fine, just cracked to all hell with a missing antenna—

Nightwing presses some buttons, Starfire fretting around him, hovering as the others stand tense and ready to start…start what?

What the fuck is going on? Jason bites at Danny's hand, but Danny doesn't even fucking flinch. What the fuck is going on!

"Batman." Nightwing's voice is a growl, causing shivers through his spine, stilling him in fear. He's never seen Dickie this mad.

"Why the fuck," Nightwing clenches his fist, body coiled tense like he's about to strike, "is the Gotham Gazette saying my little brother is dead."

A pin could be dropped 3 miles away, and Jason would be able to hear it.

"It doesn't fucking matter that I was off planet, he's my little brother!"

Jason can't breathe. You'll meet her, Danny had said, And then you'll die.

"YOU HAD HIS FUCKING FUNERAL WITHOUT ME, BRUCE!" Nightwing is screaming, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. The rest of the Titans huddle together, watching warily.

Jason can't fucking see anymore, things are blurring. He's never seen Dickie this distraught, and he can't believe Bruce would do that. He can't—He really did die.

Somehow, even when told point blank, Jason didn't actually think about what would happen after his death.

Some part of him thinks it wouldn't have mattered much anyway, a street kid like him.

But Dickie is screaming hoarsely into the communicator at Bruce, and Bruce held a funeral for him.

Even though Jason knew they would, at least to a certain extent, it still surprises him.

It's a conflicting feeling, this trust and fear.

It feels like ages, with Dickie's rage acting as white noise, before Jason can get a grip.

He's being held, he thinks, can feel the way Danny's chest rises and falls against his back. The hand over his mouth is gone, migrated to his chest and pushing lightly as if to coax Jason into breathing. A makeshift CPR.

The other hand is being gripped by Jason's hands against his stomach. Jason almost lets go, or at least wants to, but realizes he can't bring himself to.

He stares at where Dick is crumpled on the ground with his teammates surrounding him and doesn't know what to think, how to feel, what to do now.

He just watches as Dickie grieves.

Grieves him.

"I'm going to fucking kill him." Dickie finally mutters to the ground. The rest of the Titans wisely say nothing.

His brother gathers himself up and marches back into the aircraft they came in on, growling out a "I'm going to Gotham. Cyborg's in charge."

Starfire reaches out to him to place a hand on his shoulder delicately. Dickie holds it for a moment, breathing, but shakes his head with a whisper. Jason is too far away to hear it, but Starfire nods with a crumpled expression and lets him go.

Soon, the aircraft lifts up and the Titans vacate the roof.

"Why did you show me this?" Jason croaks out.

Danny makes them both visible, getting them both floating up into the sky. Unlike Gotham, there is no smog to hide in here at Jump City.

It's clear blue skies and good weather days Jason's not used to seeing. Danny lets them hover there, making a sort of glowing green platform for Jason to sit upon. It's grounding, tethers Jason to something so he doesn't float away emotionally either.

"You see what you see." Danny answers with a shrug. It should sound smug, the way he throws Jason's words back at him, but all it sounds like is exhaustion. "You ever think about what you don't?"

"No point," Jason’s voice is small, a facsimile of confidence, still shaken by this side of Dickie he's never known. "They don't wanna show me, then it's not for me."

"Street Kid logic." Danny hums as he floats lazily around Jason on the platform. "Mind your business, and nobody minds you."

"Nothing's free," Jason agrees, "Even love comes at a cost."

Danny's nose wrinkles as he flips to float on his stomach, as if he's just rolling around on a bed and not in the middle of the sky. He lays his cheek down on the cross of his arms, feet kicking behind him like a teenager looking bored.

Danny is around Jason's age, so maybe he is bored. But he highly doubts it with the way Danny's eyes run over him like sharp knives running down his skin along the face of the blade. Not quite cutting, but the danger is there if you move it the wrong way.

"My little sister was an experiment," Danny says, apropos of nothing, "She was brainwashed and groomed by her creator."

What the fuck do you even say to that? Luckily, Danny doesn't seem to need Jason to say anything.

"His one downfall was that he allowed her to read books." Danny smirked, "Got her smart. When she was sent to kill me, I talked her out of it by giving her information. She didn't really believe me at first, but eventually, she learned for herself. She asked questions, she saw with her own two eyes. She grew,"

Danny sits up in the air, crisscross applesauce, sitting gently across from Jason on the platform.

"You wanted to know who your birth mother was." Danny shrugs, "So she showed you."

Danny reaches over to pry Jason's hands apart. He'd be digging his nails into his palms without thinking. Danny looks over his hands, blowing a cold breath over them to soothe the ache.

"You focused on Sheila abandoning you. You saw how similar you were to a broken-down Willis. You took in the way Catherine deteriorated, the way the drugs made her chase the high instead of staying with you."

Danny's glowing green gaze sears into Jason, making him feel small and unimportant in the way that the stars make you feel. The enormity of space condensed into deep black pupils.

"You should have focused on the more important things: Willis’ love for Sheila, unanswered but enduring. Catherine choosing you, time and again, when she was just a stranger—when she didn't have to, until she couldn't anymore. Dick grieving you with the kind of anger that burns a whole world down."

Danny sighs, the medallion clicking into a spin, whirling at a speed that blurs.

"I'll ask you again: You see what you see, Jason Todd." Danny lifts a hand, snapping his fingers. "But do you ever think about what you don't?"

The platform below them hollows out, the sound of a snap echoing, before they fall in a glowing green light.

Jason doesn't really have time to scream when he tumbles down onto cold linoleum flooring.

"What the fuck?" Jason spits out, instead of thinking about Danny's words, "Where are we now?"

"Place called Nanda Parbat." Danny's voice floats above him, and when he looks up Danny's scanning their surroundings. It makes him tense up, joining him as he straightens up.

They're inside a room of some sort. A lab, maybe. There're a couple of large tubes, pods? The pods are all white, with only a small window high up to show what's inside.

"Why are we here?" Jason whispers as Danny floats towards one in particular.

"Damian Wayne was created using the DNA of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul, the daughter of the Demon Head of the League of Assassins." Jason lifts, no doubt Danny's telekinesis, to peer into the window Danny is gesturing to. "He is artificially aged up over the course of 2 months until he is developed enough as a toddler to undergo training as the heir of Ra's Al Ghul."

Through the window, Jason can see a baby floating in the glowing green water that fills the pod. It's a boy, with black hair and darker skin, pudgy hands clenched like fists. He looks about 2 years old.

"He'll be about four years old when he's let out," Danny continues, "And when he turns approximately 12 years old, his life at the League is threatened so he is sent to Gotham."

"Bruce has a kid?" Jason breathes out, thoughts racing in a loop. He has a kid, a real one. What will happen to Dickie? What will happen to him?

"He has several," Danny smiles, Jason can hear it in his voice even if he can't tear his eyes away from the baby floating before him, "But yes, Damian will be the only blood son."

"Dickie is one thing, but I don't count." Jason winces, "Not…not anymore."

Danny clicks his tongue, making a face. He grabs Jason and that tingling feeling washes over him again as they walk through several walls and floors until they're peeking through a floor to watch what looks like a training session from the ceiling.

It's a girl, he thinks. Short bobbed hair, black as night, skin pale just like Jason's. She looks about his age and is being harshly trained by a man who shares the same eyes.

They watch for only a minute or two before Jason feels the need to beat the shit out of the guy, Danny yanking him up and floating them through to the building's rooftop.

"Cassandra Cain." Danny explains, "born and raised as a weapon for her father, for the League. Eventually, she comes in contact with Bruce. The rest, as they say, is history. She's your one and only (legal) older sister."

The medallion whirs again, a portal opening up that Danny wastes no time pulling them through.

Jason is getting whiplash.

They step onto another rooftop, the air tasting familiar. Looking around, Jason recognizes the Narrows.

Danny points to a lit-up window, where they can see a small family having a raucous dinner. A man and woman, African Americans, sit across from each other pointing forks and laughing at each other. There's an equally dark-skinned toddler slapping at his high chair, smile wide and messy with baby food.

"That baby, Duke Thomas, goes through a war." Danny explains, "He carries the Robin mantle in the way that soldiers carry cigarettes, and becomes a beacon for Gotham. Bruce brings him in when his parents are unable to."

Danny grabs his hand once more, dragging him into a run across almost familiar rooftops.

He stops them and points at a dimly lit window, where you can just see a desk lamp lighting up the room.

"Stephanie Brown, by her own volition, never gets adopted." A girl opens the window to look out, crossing her arms and laying her head on them. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulder, blowing into the breeze as she searches the sky for stars hidden in the smog. "But her Robin brought a little bit of laughter, a little bit of fun, after years of hurt and pain."

Jason watches as Stephanie seemingly gives up, huffing a little and shutting the window before the light is summarily turned off for the night.

"You still haven't answered me," Jason whispers, volume just above the now humming whorl of the medallion hanging on Danny's neck. "Why are we here?"

Danny still doesn't answer, pulling them through the new portal to a rooftop. One that Jason is intimately familiar with from a different angle.

Jason looks to his left, to a rooftop just three buildings away, where his favorite gargoyle sits sentinel over Gotham. The sky is clearer than before, a different night from the Gotham they just stepped away from, ever-present smog no longer crowding the night sky.

The stars are still far away, but the moon is bright, like a spotlight highlighting Jason's favorite refuge.

"That's—" Jason starts to say, but Danny's arm stops him. He's pointing to the right, to a rooftop across the street.

It takes Jason a moment, several in fact, before he sees it. Before he sees them.

There's someone hiding in the depths of the shadows, small and eerily still. Jason wouldn't have been able to see them, if not for the reflection of a camera lens.

"Timothy Drake Wayne." Danny drops his arm, stopping Jason from taking any steps further out of the shadows they're hiding in, "Is too smart, too self-sacrificing, too self-deprecating, and too numb to the world."

"He takes Robin with a clenched fist, takes the brunt of a lot of hits, and honestly?" Danny chuckles humorlessly, "If it weren't for him, Batman would have been dead several times over."

As if his name summoned him, Batman grapples onto the scene, stopping just beside the gargoyle.

Jason flinches. He doesn't know how he knows, but this Batman is different from his Batman.

There's something desperate and…almost threatening about this Batman.

Like a hurt animal.

This must be after Jason's death, he didn't know that Bruce knew he had a favorite gargoyle, but he wouldn't be surprised.

Apparently, this Timothy character knew, so why wouldn't Batman?

Jason feels like he should be more surprised, or at least disturbed, that some random civilian knows this much about him. If Timothy knows Jason's favorite gargoyle, he must have been following them for a while.

He doesn't know what to feel, the whiplash cocktail of feelings swarming through his system. The truth about his parents, these future Robins and siblings, Dickie's rage and grief, and now he has to combat an apparent stalker turned sibling and a grieving Batman.

It's almost too much.

"After your death, Batman gets a little…violent." Danny's voice pulls him back, tugging him out of the shadows through another portal, away from the visage of a brooding Batman, too far away to hear the clicking of a camera.

"Tim asks Dick to come back first, having known your secret identities for a while now." They walk through a large hallway, similar to Wayne Manor, but without any of the personality Alfred works so hard to maintain. "But Dick refused, so Tim took it upon himself."

This mansion is sterile, straight out of a magazine. The paintings are impersonal and expensive, the decor is sparse but tasteful, and everything looks so…slate.

There's none of the warm wood tones Wayne Manor has, each book and decoration modern and cold and empty.

Danny brings his finger up to his lips to signal the need for quiet as they once more go invisible, phasing through a nondescript door.

It's a bedroom, a little cluttered and slightly messy, with more personality than the entirety of the rest of the Mansion.

Not that that's saying much.

The room is still way cleaner than Jason's, by virtue of just…a lack of things.

There's a bed, unmade crumpled, and a nightstand that houses a single alarm clock and lamp. A skateboard leans against the bookshelf, crammed to the gills with a variety of textbooks and nonfiction novels. A small pile of clothes crowds a half-full hamper, and Jason almost trips on a pair of shoes tossed at the closet door carelessly.

Nothing hangs on the walls, and the colors of the room range from blue to blue to blue.

The desk has a computer on it, with a screensaver being a newspaper clipping that Jason is intimately familiar with: The one single blurry photo of Batman and Dickie's Robin the Gotham Gazette managed to get. An empty mug stained with brown sludge sits on the corner of the desk, right next to what looks like two spare high-end cameras.

Someone lives here, clearly, but it still feels so…empty. Only hints of a person in a Mansion that screams of loneliness.

Danny tugs them over to stand near the desk, floating them up slightly at a good vantage point just as a door, different from the one they entered through, swings open.

A boy, dark-haired and blue-eyed just like Bruce. He's small, pale, and so concentrated on the strip of film in his hands that Jason's surprised he doesn't run into anything as he beelines to his desk.

The boy carefully starts to cut the film into negatives, placing them into a box he pulls out of a safety deposit box that had been hidden under his bed.

The box is full of negatives but in the dark Jason can't even hope to guess what's on them.

The boy then gets up to go to the bookshelf, pulling out a Textbook to reveal a second layer of what looks like photo albums behind, taking one and bringing it to the desk.

When he opens it, Jason is surprised to see most of the pictures are of him.

Of Robin, the second.

Holy shit.

Holy shit, he suspected but he didn't—This is Timothy Drake Wayne?

"What happened to you?" Timothy whispers to the Jason in the photos, "What really happened? Nightwing won't come back, and Batman…I have to do something."

Jason wants to say something, but he doesn't know what. He leans forward but is pulled back up through the ceiling once more.

"He's…just a kid." Jason says into the Gotham sky. He seems to be up here a lot, on this ghost adventure.

Jason realizes, for as much as Robin flies through Gotham, he's never really taken the time to just enjoy the sky. He's not sure he's in the right mind to do so now, but maybe when this is all over…

"You're just a kid." Danny points out before his voice goes low. "He's only two years younger than you."

That doesn't make sense. Jason is average-sized for his age, having bulked up under Alfred's care for the past year or so.

Timothy's a Drake, Jason recognizes the name now. They're…They're neighbors. For a given definition of neighbors when there’re acres between their mansions. 

Is that how the kid knows about them? Timothy is smaller than Jason was when he was still living on the streets.

"What time is it right now?" Jason asks as Danny conjures up another platform for Jason to lay back on. It's both harder and softer than he expected.

"Hmm…" Danny drifts around him once more, circling and circling. "I'd say about 9pm."

"…I don't think I've ever seen the Drake Mansion lit up, despite being neighbors." Jason keeps his volume low, maybe hoping for his words to get lost in the breeze.

"Well, there is a lot of space between Wayne Manor and the Drake residence." Danny reasons.

"It's 9pm, Danny." Jason's voice rises, slowly but steadily in heated reprimand. "It's 9pm, and his mansion is cold with no sign of any adult. He's two years younger than me. Where are his parents? Fuck, big house like that, where's the fucking babysitter? Or, or—or a fucking servant, whatever rich people fucking do!"

Jason pants, angry and tired and wrung out like a used towel. Danny lets him get his breathing together, the silence percolating like blood spilled from a ragged wound.

"I never liked Batman, y'know. Not really." Jason is getting real fucking tired of Danny's subject changes.

"Child soldiers, all of you." Danny continues, ignoring the way Jason hisses and rearing up for a fight, "And I was never much one for billionaires in the first place."

Danny drifts closer, coming to sit beside an irate Jason trying to keep his breathing even.

"But Tim?" Danny huffs out a little laugh, "I get Tim—I get the neglected parents, and feeling responsible for things beyond me, bigger than me. I get having unending curiosity and restless bones. I even get taking your mentors by the collars and shaking sense into them."

"I get taking the brunt and blame and the short end of the stick and still getting back up." Danny looks up to the sky, still so oddly clear, and sighs. "I get being the little guy."

Jason laughs humorlessly and disbelievingly. "Tiny Tim."

Danny snaps, pointing a finger at him with a cheeky smile. "Tiny Tim. Funny how it works out huh?"

"Does Tim…" Jason carefully asks, "Does Tim die in my future?"

"He doesn't—no rest for the wicked I suppose." Danny shrugs. "Not for lack of trying, you and Damian try to kill him at least once. Steph even tosses a brick at him."

Jason sputters.

Danny laughs, loud and raucous, before settling down and wiping a stray tear away. "He lives, all who come after him fail." Danny suddenly becomes very grave. "There are worse things than Death, Jason Todd. Take it from me. But whilst Tim may be self-sacrificing, he's always enjoyed the little things."

“Very poetic.” Jason sits up, bringing a knee up to lean his arm on. “Thematic too.”

Danny smiles, leaning back on his arms to continue watching the night stars barely visible through the city light pollution. “You asked me why we’re here. You’ve asked us who we are and how we know these things, and I told you the truth.”

Jason opens his mouth to say something, but is stopped by Danny’s glowing green eyes. “We’re ghosts, of a sort. Living, breathing ghosts here to show you a different way of life for the benefit of one specific individual.” Danny smiles sardonically, “The chance to ‘prevent your death’ was purely incidental.”

 Jason, for some reason, relaxes at that. He remembers Danny’s words from earlier in this long, long evening.

Your death, in the grand scheme of things, doesn't really affect much of anything at all.

Emotional whiplash be damned, he’s got a choice.

He has the power. 

“I wanted to show you what you would be losing if you started over.” Danny continues, “If you still decide to chase after Sheila, to die and come back remade, your memories of tonight will simply fade away.”

Danny starts to float, holding out a hand for Jason to take. He does so wordlessly.

“If you take the chance, then these people are what you will be losing.” Danny smirks, medallion humming as it starts to tick, “These people are the people you’ll have to find again.”

This time when they fall through the portal, it’s a familiar place and they’re already invisible.

Jason takes the cue and keeps his mouth shut as they float through Commissioner Gordan’s apartment to a familiar bedroom. 

Babs is sitting on her bed, legs tucked to the side to make room for Dickie, who is slumped kneeling on the floor beside her.

He’s using her lap as a pillow, resting his arms on her thighs and—and crying.

“I miss him too.” Babs is cooing at him, petting his hair, muttering nonsense and shedding tears herself. 

Jason feels a heat pooling in the back of his eyes, a sticky feeling clogging up his throat as he bites his lip to keep from making sounds. 

He’s shaking as he's pulled through the window, taking a familiar route back to the Manor. Danny keeps them invisible, gentle mercy as Jason sniffles and rubs at his face. 

“If–” Jason stutters out, “Did…did it have to be me? Couldn’t—couldn’t you guys have offered it to Dickie? Or Babs? Fix her legs?”

“She’s not broken, Jason.” Danny’s voice is soft, but firm. “Legs or not, Barbara Gordon endures and chooses her path. Batgirl might be retired, but it’s a mantle that can be picked up, and Oracle will live on to watch over Gotham.”

Cowed, Jason stays silent as they arrive at the Manor. 

They drift through the entrance of the Cave, and Jason’s about to ask why they’re entering this way when he’s interrupted by a sudden crash!

“Take it down!” Bruce’s familiar growl is yelling. “You had no right—”

“I will not allow you to forget, Master Bruce.” Alfie’s voice is smooth, cold. 

Bruce is breathing heavily, barely restraining himself. Alfie stands tall and stoic, as usual, against him, right in front of—

Is that his uniform?

It’s—it’s tattered and ruined.

Put up in a macabre display of a fallen soldier, a memorial of a battle lost.

Sometimes, Jason forgets that Alfie used to be a military man.

Before Jason can even fully understand the situation, they phase upwards, turning this way and that before he’s gently deposited onto his bed once more.

Jason, true to form, falls back to starfish on his bed again. 

“That was shitty of you.” Jason rumbles, “You didn’t have to—you didn’t have to show me that.”

“I did.” Danny argues, “Otherwise you’d try and say something stupid, like ‘Bruce doesn’t care’ or ‘I’m not actually his kid’ or whatever bullshit you think with that backwards brain of yours.”

���Hey!” Jason tosses a pillow at Danny. 

Danny, the asshole, lets it fall through him to hit his bookshelf.  “Bet you’re thinking something like I’m not even worth it.”

Jason wisely does not say anything to that, opting to curl up under his sheets.

“Dani gave you what you wanted to know. I gave you what you don’t know.” Danny sighs, a mechanical whir following it at an almost distant pace. 

“I guess Dan’s just gotta show you what you should know. Or maybe what future you already does know?” Jason stills at that, curling the blankets around him tighter and rolling himself into a little cocoon.

Danny chuckles mirthlessly when he realizes Jason won’t answer. “I thought it was the whole Red Hood thing you had going on, but you’re really just like that huh? No wonder Dan relates to you.”

“I resent that.” A low rumbling voice cuts in. Dan.

Jason peeks out from his blanket burrito to watch as Danny goes up to the larger man with a wide grin. 

“Dani did a number on him,” Danny reports with the kind of shit-eating tone only younger siblings can have. “And I didn’t help.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Figures you guys would leave me to clean up your messes.”

“Refreshing isn’t it?” Danny’s grin goes sharp as he takes off the medallion, “To be on the other side of the equation.”

Dan groans, but obligingly bends down so that Danny can place the medallion around the older man’s neck. 

Danny then switches places with Dan, stepping halfway through the portal with only his upper body peeking out as his older counterpart floats down to stand next to Jason’s bed. 

Danny waves, changing his voice into this dramatic tone, theatre-like, “And now I leave you with the Ghost of Christmas yet to come!”

“You mean the future?” Jason chuckles tiredly, “Must I?”

The portal pops out of existence, Danny’s laughter echoing just a little bit with it in answer.

A Christmas Carol AU

Inspired by a prompt found in the @haunting-heroes-creative-games :) (i.e. back on my shit again)

When a 15 year old Jason, pissed at Bruce for taking Robin away from him, finds his birth certificate he realizes Catherine Todd is not his real mother.

Just as he resolves to go out and search for his birth mother, Jason finds himself accosted by three ghosts in his room, talking about A Christmas Carol of all things.

===

"So, what? We're gonna Christmas Carol him?"

Dan scoffs, crossing his bulky arms with an unimpressed look. "We hated that movie."

"I didn't." Dani chirps, disturbingly cheery, "I didn't see it!"

"We hate Christmas," Danny corrects, "But the movie was alright, and the logic is sound."

"I don't hate Christmas," Dani once again interjects cheerily, "I've never participated!"

"Sound my ass," Dan growls over her, throwing his hands up. "We don't even know this guy!"

"Minor detail." Danny insists, "Tuck can look him up."

"He's a fucking Bat, Danny." Dan scrunches up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose just like Vlad does when he's disgruntled with any of Dad's shenanigans.

"He's a Robin, actually." Dani pipes in, "And he's just a kid. How hard is it gonna be to pretend to be this kid's Ghosts?"

"You're a kid," Dan reminds her, crossing his arms, "And you didn't believe me when I told you sticking a fork in the outlet would shock you."

"I believed you," Dani sniffs haughtily, crossing her arms and pointing her nose up with a snooty voice, "The warning simply did not deter me from doing it anyway."

"We don't have to convince him we're his Ghosts, or even that we knew him before," Danny reasons, needling, "We just have to convince him that we're…"

He hums, pointing at Dani. "Past."

He points at himself, "Present."

He points at Dan, "Future."

Dani does a little cheer, arms up and twirling into the air before landing with her legs over Dan's shoulders, hands and head settling atop Dan's fiery, but harmless, hair. It flickers, before going limp into long white strands that Dani messes up by gently scrunching up the strands and running her fingers through them.

Dan lets her, huffing and looking weirdly like a downtrodden, wet cat. "Why am I future?"

"Because." Danny doesn't continue, because he knows it makes Dan annoyed. True to form, his scowl gets worse, like sucking on a lemon. They all know why anyway.

Dani grins, triumphant and knowing, letting her voice go real deep, "The future," she intones into Dan's hair, "is here."

"The future is now," Danny corrects her, but doesn't lose his smile, floating up to tuck a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

"The future is already here," Dan mumbles his correction, or is it a follow-up? "It's just not evenly distributed."

"How about you distribute some of those muscles, Gibson," Danny sighs, shaking his head "Waiting for puberty is such a drag, and we both know you didn't get the mass from Vlad's side of the family."

Dan makes a moue of disgust, but it serves him right. The consequences of his own actions, and whatnot. He looks up at Dani, who simply shrugs. "I think you'll do great." She leans down to give him two pats on the arm.

"So how's acting out A Christmas Carol gonna help us stop this Jason guy from blowing up?" Dani fiddles with Dan's hair, tongue poking out as she attempts a braid, "Will he even see us? Ghosts in this dimension taste funny."

"He'll be able to see us, it's magically rich enough for some ghosts to maintain a semblance of themselves," Danny explains for the third time. Dani and Dan hum at different pitches, and even though Danny is the common denominator he kind of hates that Vlad has more of a lasting impression on them. "The ectoplasm here is scarce and mostly corrupted, though, so it's rare."

"So there's lotsa bad ghosts here?" Dani eyes the messy braid she's made, proud, even as Dan's silky hair immediately causes it to fall apart, "Or 'mentally unsound' or whatever Frostbite called it."

"No," Dan grumbles, annoyed and indulging all at once, "Corruption begets ecto-rot, but the scarcity means they're not strong enough to actually retain their sense of self enough to rot."

"Shades," Danny explains when Dani looks even more confused, "There's lots of shades."

"Is this one of the Olympian dimensions?" Dani groans, flopping over Dan's shoulder as he sits down on the sofa, "I love Pandora and all, but if I see Zeus again I'm gonna lose it."

"It's one of the hero dimensions," Danny hums, taking over braiding Dan's hair the way Jazz made him when they were little, "There's a couple of Amazons walking about, but on the whole no Olympians."

"I don't know why he didn't just dump me in a Norse dimension." Dan leans back and closes his eyes to their ministrations. "Especially with my current occupation."

The three of them are sitting in Dan's apartment, a large loft studio located somewhere in the UK of the aforementioned hero-dimension. Alber-something, Danny can't remember. Doesn't need to, it being a different dimension from his anyway.

Dan doesn't have a lot of things: a sofa and TV, a bed in the corner, a decent but small kitchen. They're still trying to figure out decorations, but Dan on the whole is a minimalist so it's been slow going.

He's working as a bartender these nights, whiling away his odd existence now that his form has stabilized.

And wasn't that a trip? Learning that hey, adult lightning halfas shouldn't really be mixed with teenage ice halfas, actually!

Apparently, ectoplasm can become corrupted if you try to combine incompatible sources.

Apparently, side effects include (but are not limited to) unmitigated violence and a devastating need for vengeance.

Sound familiar?

"This dimension has a lot of time continuity errors," Danny reminds him, "Dropping you here gave the least amount of pushback."

"Yeah, yeah," Dan flaps a lazy hand, "Praise be the speedforce and flashpoints and whatnot."

"Plus," Dani adds softly, absent-minded as she watches Danny finish up the braid, "Lotsa heroes to help out if you relapse."

Dan heaves a slow, controlled sigh. Danny and Dani both pretend they don't notice.

"Is it bad?" Dan doesn't open his eyes, his voice is so low Danny can only hear him by virtue of his ghost powers, "Like me levels bad?"

"No." Danny shakes his head, leaning into his older self, his older brother of sorts, "He decapitated eight crime lords, killed a couple of assassins, maybe an innocent or two depending on your definition of things."

"Past tense?" Dan scrunches his nose. They all hate how confusing Time Shenanigans are.

"He's living as Red Hood, right this very moment."

"Red Hood?" Dani questions, "That his hero name?"

"Crime lord alias." Danny corrects her, "But he's more of a vigilante these days. Has a bat on his chest and everything."

"But it's bad enough to warrant a trip to the past." Dan points out, "Bad enough for us to try and persuade him. Does he relapse?"

"Not…exactly." Danny scrunches his face, not wanting to explain Clockwork's ambiguity.

Dani floats to spread over Danny and Dan's laps, sprawling out and purring like a cat. Self-soothing, though it's more for their benefit than hers.

"Like Dani said, there’re lots of heroes here, and he doesn't have powers." Danny continues, petting at Dani's soft hair, "The world doesn't end. He doesn't have the means to, even with the ecto-rot."

Danny pauses, and chooses his words deliberately and carefully. "And deep down, Jason Todd is a hero through and through. Relapse would be…difficult. His Obsession is similar to yours."

Dan lets that sit for a moment, but nods, Danny moving a little with the motion. The tension slowly bleeds out as they wait like that, enjoying each other's company.

"If the world doesn't end," Dani whispers, "Why is Clockwork sending all of us?"

Danny thinks on that, on his meeting with Clockwork. The Ancient's voice when he explained what would happen.

He thinks about Jason Todd, about Bruce Wayne, and Catherine, and Sheila. He thinks about Batman, and Robin.

He thinks about Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, about Damian Al Ghul, about Cassandra Cain, and all of Jason's Outlaws.

He thinks about a tattered uniform that stays up in a glass case for a long, long time.

Most of all, he thinks about Dan.

He thinks about regrets and one bad day away.

And then he stops thinking about it, because sometimes the past is the past, and other times, it's the future that never happens that haunts you instead.

"You know, Dani." He settles on, "I'm not sure. He probably has his reasons."

Dan leans heavier onto him, and they lean together like that, with Dani in their laps.

Ghosts of decisions made, unmade, and never to be.

Follow the story on AO3 here!

[abnormalshark]

Jinx x reader (self harm comfort!) **NOT PROOFREAD!!!*

Synopsis: After a long day, you’re taken by surprise as your girlfriend Jinx comes home earlier than usual.

TW: SH, BLOOD, BLADES, ECT

It was a cold and quiet evening. Jinx was long gone for the night. Probably off in her workspace deeply absorbed in her creations. Although you supported her wholeheartedly You really did start to dread the lonely nights.

The thoughts in your head swarm at the dead of night like moths swarming to a dirty streetlight. The goosebumps on your arms multiplying as the ice cold blade pierces your skin.

“it’s the only thing that helps!”

“no one has to know.”

“Just this last time and I’ll quit.”

Those are the thoughts that plague you. Denial and reason bickering in your mind as the warm blood drips down your arm.

You exhale shakily but relieved as the pain from the cut forcefully takes your minds attention away from all of your insecurities and worries.

You’re lost in paradise. It feels nice not to think about it. Your legs feel like jelly and your hands shaking terribly as you try to hold up the towel tightly against your arm.

It doesn’t take long for you to start up again. Your soft fingers pick up the blade and you inhale deeply. Closing your eyes and taking in the moment. The blade makes contact once more. You open your eyes as Your pupils dilate at the sight.

“Y/n? what are you doing?” A raspy voice catches you by surprise. You raise your eyes towards the mirror in front of you. It’s her. Your girlfriend. Standing ever so comfortably against the door frame.

Suddenly your body starts to move grabbing nearly everything in sight trying to hide it from her view. Tears start to dribble out of your eyes. “F-Fuck! I- listen I just- I-“ your sentences turn into words and soon enough your words turn into intolerable sounds. However, you’re immediately brought back when jinx’s cold hands touch your shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve dealt with this stuff too ya know… I know how to help.” She takes your arm without warning and starts to clean it. Occasionally she’d respond with a tiny ‘ow sorry’ when you wince. “I- I don’t know I just-“ you take a deep breath to gather your words. “I know you have your own problems and I just have all these thoughts in my head that won’t stop.” Your shaky voice spews out.

“You dummy…” jinx’s eyes look yearningly at yours. “That doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.” She mumbles. She sounds as if she might cry just watching you in pain.

You can’t help but notice your girlfriend looks rather cute from this perspective. Worried and concerned yet… so calm.

“I love you” the words burst out of your mouth. You didn’t expect them to come out but you’re not upset that they did.

Jinx lets out a hearty chuckle. She kisses you ever so gently as she rubs her thumb over the bandages on your arm. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

She gets up alarmingly fast. Eyes closed as she stretches her arms up towards the ceiling. “C’mon, we better go before Isha tries to break the laws of physics and magically put her ear through the door.”

She laughs and smiles warmly at you. “By the way… I am going to bug you about your feelings later. You’re not off the hook yet, ‘Kay?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　

! Idk I legit wrote it half asleep but hope you still enjoyed it!! Merry christmas everyone!!

[theartofwoompwoomp]

You do what now?…

Various Transformers x human!reader

Summary: we spoke about us receiving aggressive affection, but what about us giving them the cuteness aggression

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Knockout definitely won’t let you even think about biting him. He just got polished. He’s going to make sure you don’t even get near him the second he sees that glint in your eye.

He was cuddling with you as he rambled on about his day. Moments like these brought him so much peace. But clearly, it seemed you had another definition of peace.

Your head lowered a bit towards his arm. He wouldn’t thought anything if not for the way you seemed to hesitate opening your mouth. Your lips were pursed and your full attention on his paint.

His own instincts acted before you, quickly pushing you away as he threw a tiny pillow on top of you and ran.

“Awww knockout ! I wasn’t even gonna do nothing !” He could hear your voice in the distance but he wasn’t taking any chances, knowing you were now in a game of hide-in-seek. If he wasn’t careful your small mouth would definitely bit him if he’s not aware.

Optimus would be surprised to say the least.  Never once knowing humans did such a thing to others. Especially not their significant others. He’d probably ask the reason for your actions, mistaking it for an act of anger towards him.

One second he was holding you, the next he was looking down as you had your mouth on his digit. 

He didn’t move. Just watching as you a bit him. The thing was, you weren’t chomping or taking many bites. You simply bit him once and didn’t let go. He didn’t feel you put pressure on the bit, so you weren’t attacking him.

Then what were you doing? you didn’t even look up when you let go. Perplexed he wondered why’d you grabbed his attention only for you to ignore him.

Maybe it was a way to show you were upset? But it didn’t make sense, when he called out to you about it you weren’t upset. It was an act,… of affection

Honestly he didn’t understand but it made you happy so he just let you continue on.

Bee would probably encourage your aggressive behavior towards him. Letting you run into him and start random play fights while ofc always letting you win.

Bee was just walking around base. He didn’t really have anything planned. He was about to head back towards his quarters when he heard fast steps behind him.

As he turned around, he saw that you had jumped off the shelf road set for humans. Your smile wides as launched straight for him.

Stretching towards you to catch your small body, you randomly pulled a pillow from nowhere and threw it straight to his face. He fell and you landed on him. Giving him a quick peck before taking off. Hearing your voice quite far yelling a quick, “Love ya babe !”

Still on the ground he just let a small beep that sounded a lot like a sigh. He was totally gonna get you back for this.

Soundwave is always dumbfounded by your impulses. Mainly since you act before thinking a lot of the times. Causing him to not being able to know your next move. And since your cuteness aggression is always spontaneous he never predicts it.

You were on his berth with him. While he was desperately trying to hold his mask onto his faceplate. It had broken during a battle and knockout had yet to be able to attend him. Thus leaving him in the sad state of holding it up wherever he went.

But he trusted you. And he was tired from holding it the whole day. Lowering his mask he hears a small gasp from you. 

Feeling as a bunch of thoughts rush through you, he mainly notices your curiosity.

Lowering his face as he hands you his mask. You take it eagerly, your own eyes analyzing it and tracing every dent and detail.

But it wasn’t until he had his face in front of you he felt it change in your thoughts.

Your eyes no longer focusing on his mask, rather all your attention on his lower half of his face. At first he could feel all your thoughts, but now your mind was rushing so fast to the point he wasn’t sure if you were even thinking at all.

Noticing your breath pick a bit of pace, he wasn’t expecting you to launch his mask far from him. Your eyes wide as you rushed to reach him. 

Still surprised from the loud noise of his mask crashing onto the floor, what brought his attention back was your small mouth on his. All your emotions pouring towards him, he honestly didn’t mind it a bit. 

Now this was one impulse of yours he liked.

Starscream would surely love your attention. No matter how strange it is. He’d probably show off and brag about your actions to other decepticons. It would get to the point that the others think he’s making it up, mainly since most of them don’t think humans have cuteness aggression.

Funny thing is, recently you’ve been noticing a lot of things about your seeker. You hadn’t noticed before, but his wings tend to be very expressive.

Thanks to your request you were given a datapad that acted a lot as an ipad for a kid. You’re favorite feature was the camera settings. Thanks to being small no one noticed that you recorded a lot of things. Especially Starscream. 

You had a bunch of videos and pics of him. Looking through them was definitely your favorite pastime.

As Starscream got closer he heard you speaking with lots of emotion. You were talking too fast and changing volume constantly that he couldn’t really understand what you were saying.

Peeking a bit he saw you watching something on the datapad he got you. You were laying down with your stomach to the surface as your feet kept swinging in the air. You were really focused on whatever you were watching.

He was going to continue watching you in silence until he heard you yell out, “Oh.My.God! Why is he soo hot !” 

You were ogling someone and he didn’t like it one bit. 

Barging in making his presence loud and clear, you turned quickly hiding the datapad. “oh heyy starscream. I hadn’t realized you were here.” Your voice laced with nerves he saw your face reddened as you tucked the pad deeper under the pillow.

Not responding he grabbed the datapad against your small protest, as he opened it up to see who exactly was winning your heart.

He wasn’t expecting to find an edit of him that you made. 

Now you were both flustered.

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Lol let me know if you want a specific character with this concept, it’s very fun 

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