#so i have no idea where i got the inspiration from

[supercimi]

Your friend has always been a bit carefree

Whenever he gave you those gifts, he basically just shoved them into your hands as If giving you some candy or something

He liked to joke around and get you in dumb situations all the time, sometimes those shenanigans got you in trouble, other times it ended in a rather underwhelming repercussions, like the flower bed incident when you were small.

Lucky for the both of you, the neighbourhood community had already wanted to get rid of that flowerbed, so you only got cleaning duty for three months because of what you two did

Maybe because of this, he would sometimes give you these gifts? He is a trickster and gets in trouble a lot yea but not a bad friend, u know?

Just yesterday, he told you that his next gift was gonna be awesome!

But why did he need you to wait in the square park for that?

...

It's been so long now...

How many hours have you been waiting?! And you were just praising him! He should just wait until you are back!! You shall not have his back!

Trudging away in anger and saddled with annoyance you finally reached your home

I mean homes, you two are neighbours after all,

"Hey! Where did that idio-"

Just as you snapped the gate doors open, the sight before you sucked any words you had left out of your mouth

"Oh, ops I got caught huh?" Your friend sheepishly confessed

"...." your gaping mouth couldn't catch up with your brain fast enough to close, but that was the least of your concerns right now

"You don't have any questions? " that same carefree tone and face yet, just what was going on?

There in front of you he stood, shimmer by shimmer he was fading away,

Words could not form, thoughts would not churn.

You could only stare

"Hey now, don't make that face," he laughed sheepishly like he did when he felt at loss

Why? What? How?

You could not say any of that

You couldn't even close your mouth

".....h..w..what?...how?" You finally managed to let out

Looking at his stupid face you wanted to claw the answers right out of his mind

But you couldn't, you wouldn't, even if you could.

"....because I made lots of mistakes?" He hummed as if thinking to himself

"So what! Why would this happen?!" Your confusion ignored, but that ignited your still mouth, and it finally spun its cries

"Because i made up for them all!"he boasted cheerily as if he wasn't fading more and more

"Wha?" Your confusion only multiplied but your words lost their strength

The passing time was only proved by his fading eyes

"...please just tell me your reasons" you tried a final time your earlier annoyanc and grievance at being stood up long forgotten

Looking at you for the uptenth time tonight, quite and kind, he wasn't someone who would have such a gentle look

"....because i care," smiling widely he answered vaguely yet again.

Streching your arms to grab that stupid figure, you barely had your words!

"That doesn't explain anything you doofus!"

You cried as your hands caught air

Your friend wasn't here anymore

.

...

....

.." ghr..dang..it...you.." blabbering your words, you could not speak anymore

You only cried in confusion

And that's okay

Despite every reality we had, you were always there for me.

You always went along with me

You had my back even when you didn’t recognize me

Be it in the past ir the future, or even in the present

You were my family

My friend

My teacher

My partner in crime

My only constant in the world

When you were gone, my world was gone

I searched for you, countless worlds and times, but they all aren't you

Well, they are you, but not you at the same time... Maybe that's why eventually i gave their original friends back to them

Because they were not my friend whom i lost

Maybe because i did that, i found you again

One final time

I had my family again for the last time

If the price for that was my life, it didn't really sound so bad

I hope you live on much more happily this time

We only had one life after all

Farewell, my friend.

Your friend keeps giving you very random gifts at completely random times. It seemed like an odd but nice gesture, until you realise each gift has saved your life from any sort of incident some time after accepting it.

[huntingingoodwill]

civil. (j.m.)

masterlist

desc: you can’t stand joel miller, and he can’t stand you.

pairing: enemies to lovers! joel miller x gn! reader

a/n: this is my gift for the pedrostories secret santa 2024 event!!! i had so much fun writing this for my giftee, @adora-but-ginger. thanks so much for introducing me to the absolute bop which is never let me down by depeche mode which inspired this lil fic. i really hope you enjoy it babes <3 happy holidays!

“You’re an idiot. A big, hulking idiot.” 

“You think I’m big and hulking?”

You could hear the smirk in Joel’s voice, which made equal parts of anger and embarrassment flare up inside of you. You could admit he was… well-built. Sickeningly, disgustingly so. And right now, you wanted to snap his well-built body in two. 

“I’m going to kill you.”  

“I’d like to see you try, but we’re a little tied up at the moment,” his tone was sardonic, his meaning literal - the two of you were in the bed of some raiders’ truck, tied up and blindfolded, being driven to who-knows-where. It was probably for the best, as the restraints around your wrists were the only things stopping you two from choking each other out. 

“And whose fault is that?” you hissed. 

“I’m glad you asked. Yours.” 

“Mine?!” you exclaimed, the anger pulsing through you growing stronger by the minute. “I told you we should avoid the cabin and you still dragged us right into this mess.” 

Joel had insisted the abandoned cabin would be a safe place to rest. The raiders had the same idea, and were quick to pounce on the both of you after coming across your horses outside. They had ambushed the two of you, deciding to bring you back to their camp to figure out what to do with you later - probably nothing too pleasant. They had left your horses behind, and you had overheard them saying they’d come back for them later. 

“Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep when you were supposed to be on lookout, we wouldn’t be here right now,” Joel muttered. 

You sighed, a dull knot of ache forming behind your eyes. It was true. You had fucked up. But he had fucked up too. If it were anybody else with you, the two of you may have been able to admit that, kiss and make up. But you and Joel never got along. You bickered and fought on every patrol you were forced on together, and this was your last straw. You were livid, and he was too. 

“We wouldn’t have been there in the first place if you didn’t-“ 

“Enough with the goddamn lover’s quarrel!” one of the raiders yelled out from the cab. 

That shut you and Joel up sufficiently, but that word tinged the silence with a shy awkwardness. 

“Lover’s quarrel,” Joel scoffed. 

“Yeah. ‘Lovers’,” you mimic his veneer of nonchalance, poorly veiling the flustered tone in both your voices, “in your dreams.” 

“In yours,” he shot back, immediately rolling his eyes at himself. 

He was too old for this shit. Everytime he was around you, he acted like a petty teenager. You just ignited a flame within him, one that he mistook for the bitter burn of loathing, not knowing it was something else entirely. 

“So, how are we getting out of this one?” you whispered. 

“Why are you asking me? I thought I was an idiot?”

“I wish you could see the look I’m giving you right now, Miller.” 

He lowered his voice to a whisper, unheard by the raiders up front over the rumble of the engine. 

“Admit I’m not an idiot, and I’ll get us out of here.” 

“Oh, come on-“ you started, gritting your teeth with exasperation.

“Or, you can always spend the rest of the day with our new friends here.”

“...You’re not an idiot.” 

“And, who’s in charge?” 

“Oh, fuck y-” 

“I can always let you hitch a ride with these guys and see how you fare on your own,” his voice took on an annoyingly laissez-faire quality. You hated him.

“You’re in charge,” you assented.

“Correct. I hid my knife in my pocket. They missed it when they took away our weapons.” 

Maybe you didn’t hate him.

“Maybe you’re not as big of an idiot as I thought,” you smiled.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Get it out of my pocket, then cut my ropes. Then I’ll cut yours.” 

You shimmied close to him, trying to ignore how the proximity made the heat rise in your collar. You tried to convince yourself it’s a physical reaction to your hatred for him. Like an allergy. 

You managed to slide the knife out, only almost stabbing him in the ass once on a bumpy stretch of road. 

“Hands!” He had grit through his teeth.

“Please, there’s nothing back there to cut. You’re as flat as a board,” you had whispered, immediately blushing and following your words up with a quick: “Not that I’ve been looking or anything.” (You had looked. A couple times. But you’d die before telling him that.) 

Unable to see, you fumbled around a little, careful not to cut him as you sliced through the ropes binding his wrists together. Once free, he lifted his blindfold with careful, quick movements, sure to not let the men in the cab see him, before cutting off the remaining ropes keeping his legs tied together then doing the same for you. 

With the ropes loosened in heaps around your wrists and ankles, you whispered: “What now?” 

His voice was determined, but grim. “We pray.” 

“I gotta take a leak.” One of the raiders mumbled a mere 5 minutes later, after you both had replaced your blindfolds and were acting like two good kidnapees in the back of the truck, in hopes that the men wouldn’t look too closely at the both of you and discover you had freed yourselves. 

“Let’s hope our prayers have been answered. Do you trust me?” Joel asked.

“No.” 

“You’re gonna have to. 3…2…1.” 

The two of you ripped off your blindfolds. 

The scuffle was over in a few minutes. Joel’s chest heaved from the exertion of the fight as he cleaned the bloody knife off on his shirt. He had subdued one of the men pretty quickly, which gave you enough time to grab your gun from the cab and deal with the other. 

He had done a pretty good job, you had to admit, with hiding his knife and handling the raiders. Without him, you would have been royally fucked. You felt a twinge of gratefulness, and a pang of something else as you watched him, the slope of his nose and hardness of his jaw as he wicked the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He had saved you. 

Then, you looked down at the two dead raiders, and what glimmer of heroism that you saw in Joel’s figure distorted into frustration. 

You aimed your gun at Joel. 

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you?!” he yelled, the bullet whizzing past his head. 

“Cool it, Texas,” you huffed, “Now, hold still this time.” You aimed again. 

“I just saved your ass, and you try to shoot me because of it?!” 

“I told you we shouldn’t have gone to the cabin-” 

“Look who’s talking, sleepyhead!” 

You started to walk. 

“Where d’you think you’re going?” he called after you, his voice already receding into the distance. 

“Jackson. Back to the village of which you are the idiot of!” you screamed over your shoulder. 

“A bit of a convoluted way to put it, darlin’.” 

You refused to dignify that with an answer. 

You had only made it a few metres down the road when you heard the roar of the raiders’ truck, and the heat of the thrumming engine as it pulled up beside you. 

You stared straight ahead, feeling Joel’s gaze rove over you from the driver’s window as he cruised alongside you. 

“Get in,” Joel called out to you.  

“No.” 

“D’you know where you’re going? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t.” 

“I do. I think. I tried to memorise the turns they took while we were tied up.” 

“Well, you aren’t getting back to Jackson anytime soon on foot.” 

You ignored him, marching forward. The next few moments were clouded in silence as you stormed down the road, Joel driving slowly beside you all this while. 

“C’mon, get in. Please?” Joel’s voice was startlingly soft, a flash of vulnerability that you hadn’t expected that stopped you in your tracks. He said his words slowly, like it was difficult for him to articulate. It definitely wasn’t easy for someone as stubborn as him to seek help from you. “I can’t leave you out here alone, and I need your help to navigate.”

You turned to look at him, not expecting to find the sincerity scrawled over his face. It softened you. But you liked to make him suffer. 

“Who’s in charge?” you said. 

“Oh, c’mon…” 

“Miller. Answer me. Who is in charge?” 

“You are. Now get in.” 

You smiled in satisfaction, clambering into the passenger seat. 

“You’re in charge of navigation, I’m in charge of driving,” he mumbled beneath his breath. 

You chuckled at his comment. Suddenly his snarkiness, though annoying, seemed like a harmless dig after the events of the day. That laugh was utter release, a reprieve from the loathing for him that had been boiling your blood all day. 

Peeking over at you, you watched his confused face turn into one that mirrored yours. One of cathartic happiness. He let out a laugh, unable to help it. You had never noticed his laugh, his smile. Like a silver lining. You liked it. 

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, save for your directions, though the air between you was different. Still electric in its energy, but not because of anger, or frustration. It was strangely warm.

The sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and with a satisfying click, he flicked on the headlights, making a turn. The lights illuminated the cabin and your horses. Your heart soared. 

“Well, shit. You did it,” he whispered. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and more laughter bubbled from his lips. Laughing with Joel seemed so foreign after spending every patrol together arguing or in heated silence. It was pleasant.

From here, the two of you would be able to find your way back to Jackson, no question. The two of you mounted your horses and started your way back. He turned to watch you, the delicate turn of your head as you gazed up at the vast sky, drinking it all in. He felt that same pang he always felt around you, what he always thought was annoyance. It hit him with that same ferocity, but it was charged with a different energy. It felt kind of nice. 

You turned to lock eyes with him. 

“I’m sorry,” the both of you said in unison. 

You both dissolved into laughter. 

“Well, I’ll go first,” Joel chuckled, “I’m sorry. I really am. I should have listened to you-”

“No, I’m sorry!” you said. “If it wasn’t for me falling asleep… and I guess trying to shoot you wasn’t very nice.” 

“Wasn’t polite, was it?” he snorted, his smile reflecting your sheepish one. “Still, I fucked up. And the way you helped us find our way back… you saved our asses.” 

“I fucked up too. And if anyone saved us it was you. There was no way we would have gotten out of there without you thinking ahead and hiding the knife.” 

“I guess we make a pretty alright team, huh?” he said, the smile he shot you so hopeful and sweet you felt that hot, molten feeling in your gut again, though it definitely was not hate. 

“Yeah, we do,” you sighed. “I guess if your brother’s gonna keep insisting on putting us on patrol together, we could at least be civil to each other. I think we work together better that way. Deal?” 

“Deal,” he said. “You still drive me a little crazy though.” 

“Ditto,” you smiled at him, and the smile he flashed back made you feel strange and floaty, a similar sort of light-headedness from when you used to get so mad at him on patrols you wanted to scream. You were starting to realise that feeling may have been motivated by a different emotion entirely. He was definitely driving you a little crazy. 

“Where the hell were you guys? You missed the bonfire,” Tommy called out to Joel as the both of you arrived at the centre of Jackson, a dying bonfire crackling behind him. 

“That’s the least of our problems,” Joel huffed, dismounting from his horse as you followed suit, thrusting the reins into his brother’s hands. “You deal with that.” 

Tommy shrugged, leading the horses back to the stable. 

The two of you stood side by side, staring into what little was left of the bonfire, now a flame that licked up to around Joel’s knee-height. The crowd that was surrounding it earlier that night had fully dispersed, leaving just you and Joel alone before the fire. He turned to look at you, the fire glazing your eyes with orange and red hues, setting your gaze alight.

“I have an idea,” you said. Your smile meant trouble. “Let’s jump over it.” 

“What?” Joel asked, eyebrows shooting up incredulously. 

“I read it somewhere. It’s an old tradition, supposed to bring about good luck and new beginnings,” you smile at him, a smile that instantly wins him over. “We need all the luck we can get. C’mon Miller, indulge me. Be civil.” 

His laugh was hesitant, but when you reached for his hand he knew he could do it. 

“Do you trust me?” you grinned. 

“Yes.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to. 3…2…1!” 

There was a moment there, with his hand in yours, at the very top of where the flames swirled, where it felt like the two of you were flying, suspended against the dark sky. 

Then, you hit the ground. 

You were lying beside each other in the dirt, panting in between gasps of laughter, the cuffs of your pants and the soles of your shoes singed. That electric warmth fired through the air, boiling your blood - definitely not anger. Something else. Passion and anger possess that same fiery quality. 

It burned so brightly within the both of you that he couldn’t help it. He leaned over to kiss you. The fire was warm by your side, the sky dark and electric above you as a storm gathered. The two of you were definitely going to be more than civil.

[sarahsangelicdoll]

"cindy lou who" - R.C

. . . ⭑.ᐟ Currently playing; cindy lou who by Sabrina Carpenter . . . ↺▐▐ ↻

ᥫ�� Summary: You and Rafe broke up about a year ago. You thought you were over it until Rafe got over you and got a new girlfriend.

an: had this idea for awhile and i'm happy i finally wrote it but also not at all proud !, a part of this is unintentionally inspired by @bloodibambiidoll’s ‘buy me presents’ fic, may have a been a bit rushed.. may rewrite for next year.

ᥫ᭡ Content warning: Angsty, jealousy, unnecessary Sofia hate, not too deep, just sad romantic feels, from a jealousy-ridden perspective so cringey, Reader is a bit toxic idk, cringe warning in itself

Merry christmas !!

“I saw you laughing in of his pictures”

You sat on your bed, legs freshly shaven and moisturized. Hair done up in a messy bun and body bundled up in your blankets. The combination of your thick, blue blanket and sweat set you were wearing did a little too much to warm you from the cold. But the warmth was the least of your worries right now. Instead of sleeping like you rightfully should be at two in the morning, you were stalking your ex’s instagram.

His photos were mostly of himself or things he was doing around the island, for example a picture of him and Toppers martini’s that he posted exactly a week ago.

You thought, you were over Rafe, having not thought much of you twos break up almost a year ago, continuously rejecting Rafe when he tried to get back with you. “It would be too awkward now.” “We’re just not good for each other.” “Some people just aren’t meant to be for their own good.” “We’re better off as friends.”, all of these just a portion of the things you would say.

But then, you saw Sofia and Rafe at one of his parties at tannyhill, and ever since the two have always been together. It made your stomach do flips. You were used to Rafe’s world revolving around you, but now it didn’t. Now it revolved around Sofia.

You let out a huff that abruptly stopped when you scrolled down to the next photo. A photo of Sofia, wet, along the property of tannyhill. Laughing. Flash of the camera illuminating her features. Your stomach did jealous flips as you bit your lip, eyebrows instinctively furrowing as you took in the image.

The photo was oddly familiar to one of you, an almost exact replica of a polaroid Rafe took of you and kept in his wallet while you two were together and for a while after you two broke up. You swallowed and sucked in a shaky breath as you took in the photo. She looked utterly ridiculous. Why would she wear a white shirt to the beach? is she stupid? this is the girl Rafe gave you up for?

“Bet you’ll be the one with his ring on your finger”

Your eyes darted down to read the caption. ‘Prettier than a sunset.��� you read. You sucked in another, bitter and jealous breath. Sofia was a pogue, and so were you. It took Rafe four months to post you on his socials and even admit he thought you were pretty. And here he’s been with Sarah for two months and is already posting shit like this on his instagram?

You went to the comments, and to your delight, Topper and the other kooks didn’t like the post nor comment, but they did on yours. Heck you were even friends with them. Because you were welcomed by the kooks, Sofia’s just like a replacement for your absence… yeah, that’s most likely what it is. After all, Sofia is so… unusually similar to you in various different aspects, personality wise.

But your delight was quickly diminished as you saw Sofias comment, ‘where’s my ring if i’m so pretty? 💍’. You couldn’t help but audibly scoff as you read the comment, getting second hand embarrassment. Mouth clenching shut as you saw that Sofias comment was the only one Rafe liked.

“There’s red and green everywhere but i’m so blue”

You bit your cheek as you turned your phone off and looked up at the ceiling. Lit up with red, green and yellowish light reflections due to the mini christmas tree in the corner of your room and the christmas decorations outside.

You let out yet another shaky breath as you thought of the situation, entire gut knotting together and doing flips. You closed your eyes as you felt the tears prickling in your eyes. This shouldn’t be affecting you so bad, not after everything Rafe did and the fact you broke up with him.

You took a deep breath and opened them, a stray tear escaping your eye and following down the curves of your face. You sat up and stared at the tv in your room, playing whatever nonsense. You couldn’t help how you felt deflated and replaced, hell, even confused. You thought you were over Rafe, but you suppose the world had other plans than letting you peacefully move on.

You leaned over, arms reaching out towards your charger that was sat on your bedside table. You plugged your phone in and then rolled onto your side, facing the opposite direction. Snuggling into your blanket as you wiped the wetness of the stray tear away.

“Cindy lou who”

You stared off towards your wall. Your mind playing over all the stories you’ve heard of Sofia.

Hard working, kind, respectful, joyful, ‘loves’ Rafe, makes Rafe happy, caring, innocent, so on and so on. So much like how people describe you. You wondered if it was just hopeful thinking that maybe the only reason Rafe was with Sofia was her similarities to you.

You let out your tenth sigh of the night as you attempted to block out the thoughts and just close your eyes. thinking of anything but Rafe and Sofia. And eventually you fell asleep despite the war raging in your head.

“Maybe he met you somewhere in the desert”

You sat next to Kiara and Sarah in the back of the twinkie, which was driving down a bumpy road. Your hair done up in a messy ponytail and wearing an ugly blue christmas sweater and grey sweatpants. Biting the inside of your cheek as JJ, John B and Pope were debating on the directions of wherever the destination today was.

Sarah glanced down at you, noticing your distant expression, nudging you with her knee as she spoke, “What’s up with you?”

You just groaned, moving your knees up to your chest and placing your head back against the seat. “Nothin’” You murmured as you stared up at the ceiling, before a question crossed your mind.

“How did Rafe meet Sofia?” You asked, genuinely curious as to how they met. You and Rafe met after he got into a fight with his dad and got high as fuck off Cocaine, stumbling into the bar you work at, located just a couple minutes away from tannyhill

“While he was soul searching, he found someone better”

Sarah and Kiara both seemed caught off guard by your question but seemed like they both too got curious.

Sarah sighed and adjusted in her spot, speaking in a sarcastic tone as she threw in her idea. “I mean i’ve heard he’s trying to do some ‘soul searching’ so maybe that’s how they met.” She suggested.

“Maybe,” You said glancing at her before looking back up at the ceiling.

“I heard she’s a bartender,” Kiara responded, her words laced with slight amusement. “Maybe they met after Rafe got high as fuck again.” She chuckled at her own ‘joke’ as she attempted to lighten the mood.

Seriously? she was a bartender too? You didn’t know what to believe anymore. Was Rafe seriously over you or was he just trying to fill your absence?

“Isn’t that ironic,” You commented dryly, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Guess you make him happy like i couldn’t do, cindy lou who”

You were walking down towards ‘Heywards Seafood’, planning on seeing Pope around this time. Today was quite a warmer ‘winter’ day so you didn’t have to worry about dressing too warm. settling on a white tank and jeans.

You grabbed your wallet from your pocket and opened it up, looking to see how much money you have so you could perhaps buy something. Why not support your friend’s father’s business?

You pulled out a ten dollar pill. ‘That should get me a little snack’ you thought to yourself as you slowly made your way closer to the building, just to be stopped in your tracks.

“Seriously? ‘Heywards seafood’?” Rafes voice filled the air as you glanced up and looked around, seeing Rafe making his way over to the building along with Sofia. You sucked in a breath as you quickly moved to hide behind a wall, staying just close enough to hear what was being said.

“Yes,” Sofia started, anyone being able to hear the smile through her words. “They have good stuff. Swear i’ll be quick.” She said, her voice getting louder as she stopped just a couple feet from where you were. You peaked your head out just enough to get a quick peak of what the two were doing, and you immediately regretted it, Sofia leaning in and placing a kiss to Rafes cheek, eliciting a smile from the man. A wide one, one that used to be reserved for you. “Really?” Rafe said light-heartedly, doubting her words before chuckling, “Fine just be quick. I’ll wait out here.” He said, giving Sofia a smile as she giggled. A giggle that made her sound obnoxiously fake.

Sofia turned and entered the building of Heywards seafood, leaving Rafe alone. His smile staying as he watched Sofia disappear into the building, hand coming up to wipe his face as he turned, attempting to hide his smile as he walked a small distance away from the building.

You sucked in a deep breath. Turning to look straight ahead as your heart clenched in your chest. Did Rafe ever act like that when you’d giggle? When you’d leave him alone while you went in the store? Was Sofia really all that?

“With your hair so long, lips so red. Maybe we once met i forget”

You sat on the toilet. Procrastinating your shower as you stalked your ex’s new girlfriend, Sofias, tiktok. Scrolling way back to almost a year ago, around the time you and Rafe met. She didn’t post too much, so there was a sudden timeskip from March to January, and let’s just say it took you off guard.

Sofia had long hair framing her face and a deep red lip combo. You raised a brow ever so slightly in judgement. Long hair didn’t suit her and most definitely not with the red lip.

Despite your critiqued, you couldn’t help the lingering thought in the back of your mind. If Sofia looked like how she did now back then, then would Rafe really even struggle with the break up? Would he have just ran to Sofia? God, you sounded ridiculous and over paranoid, pulling at small flimsy straws, but you couldn’t help it.

But then realization dawned on you, a sense of… odd familiarity washing over you as you took in her appearance. You swore you saw her before, but you couldn’t seem to place the memory. Perhaps you two worked together? Either way, it didn’t matter. You turned your phone off and placed it onto the side of the sank. You desperately needed to get both Rafe and Sofia out of your mind. You were starting to scare yourself with how obsessed you were becoming.

“Scrolling five years back, i’m obsessed”

You sat at some retro fast food place, munching on french fries. Older music filling your ears as you were hunched over your phone, scrolling way, way back on Sofias instagram.

To say you were obsessed was an understatement. But you couldn’t help it, you were desperately searching for anything that’ll tell you why Rafe chose Sofia. Or any sense of closure to feel better about it.

Is this how Rafe felt when the two of you broke up? desperately searching for a reason? no… that wouldn’t make sense… his reasons were right in front of him; trying to kill his sister, killing Peterkin, shooting his sister, melting down the cross.

“Hey,” A voice interrupted your thoughts, looking up you saw Sarah. You quickly turned your phone off as you watched her move to sit in front of you, smile gracing her features. “Hey.” You said, giving her a small smile as you sat upright.

“Breaking my heart ‘tis the season i guess”

“What are you doing here all alone?” Sarah asked curiously as she grabbed the menu and looked over it.

“Nothing, just caught up in thoughts i suppose.” You replied, plopping another french fry in your mouth.

Your words and attitude caused Sarah to glance up from the menu, face tinged with concern before her attention quickly being diverted to outside. She sighed as she pretty much threw the book down and looked away from the mirror. “Oh my god my brother’s here.” She said, tone annoyed and frustrated as she glanced at you.

“Seriously?” You said, looking out the window. Rafes car parked just a couple feet away. You watched as he rounded the front of the car and opened the door, helping Sofia out.

Sofia looked joyful, it made your stomach coil. ‘God i’m petty’ You thought to yourself as you bit your cheek, knowing in the back of your mind that you were being utterly ridiculous. “Wanna leave?” You asked Sarah, turning back to face her. Ignoring how your heart ached in your chest. Sarah just nodded in response as she got up and made way for the back exit, you trailing behind with your french fries and jealousy in-hand.

“With your hair so long, lips so red. if you’re waking up now in his old bed, at his family’s house, just know that you’re just breaking my heart”

You stood outside in the cold, out near the water. Sofia and Rafe yet again stuck in your head.

You wondered what Rafe would think if he knew how much you were hurting. Surely if you went to him he would comfort you? Maybe you two could talk about it? Maybe get back together? Then Sofia can hurt like you are,

No, no, and no. God what’s going on with you? ‘You broke up with Rafe’ You tried to remind yourself. And not only that but all of your friends would absolutely hate you, hell that’s an understatement. And quite frankly, you didn’t want the reputation as a home wrecker. Lastly, as if you’re having a moment of clarity; You don’t want to hurt Sofia, god what did she do besides get with the guy you broke up with.

You groaned as you rubbed your temple, feeling conflicted. Did you love Rafe or did you love the attention? Are you the issue?

“Shit..” You mumbled out as you let out a deep breath and looked back up at the water. this entire situation was shitty and immature. Were you seriously just considering homewrecking?

“‘tis the season i guess”

You wiped down the countertop of the cocktail table. Your hair done up in a messy bun and bartender uniform hugging your figure. You were working tonight and then had the next four days off for Christmas, 23rd to 26th.

You turned your back to the table and threw the towel you used over the sink. Checking the time on your phone, seeing that there was two hours left of your shift. Behind you, two chairs got pulled out and you heard the sound of a woman speaking above the christmas music playing. You could tell just by the sound of the voice that it was some rich, kook snob. “I’ll be right back, just gotta use the washroom. Surprise me.” You heard the woman say. Rolling your eyes as you realized you’ll need to deal with some kook snobs, probably here for business, for the last bit of your shift.

You sighed, tensing slightly as you felt eyes bore into your back. You took a deep breath and then turned around to take the order, at first looking down at your cracked nail before looking up and seeing none other than the man who’s overtaken your mind for the past month, Rafe fucking Cameron.

You sucked in a breath as you saw him. Giving him an awkward smile as you stopped infront of him, space put between you two only by the bar counter. “Hey.” You said, words sounding more cold and bitter than intended, taking Rafe off guard a tad. “What’d you like?”

Rafe rubbed his chin awkwardly as he glanced up at the menu, “I’ll just take a beer and margarita.” He replied, eyes flickering down at you and then to the tv in the corner.

‘He can’t even look at me?’ You thought bitterly as you straightened your posture, “Coming right up.” You said, masking the hurt you were feeling with cold indifference.

You started making the margarita, ignoring Rafes occasional glances to you. God, this was deja vu. Your mind couldn’t help but go back to when you first met Rafe, though he was high and less calm, to put it nicely. You knew Rafe could sense it to.

You grabbed Rafes beer and turned back over to him, putting the two drinks in front of him. “Order up,” You said, tone still indifferent in your ears, bitter in his. Rafe sighed as he rubbed his face and turned his face to you.

“Look can we not do this? it’s almost Christmas, i won’t ‘bug’ you to get back with me anythin’, ok? i have a girlfriend now. Jus’ here for business.” Rafe said genuinely as he looked at you, gauging your reaction as he leaned back in his chair and plopped his hands in his lap.

You sighed as you looked at him, resting your bodyweight onto your right leg as you looked at him, deciding to let go of your bitterness, smiling softly. “Yeah sure,” You said tiredly, tilting your head towards your shoulder. “Just tired, been working all day.” You excused, yawning slightly.

Rafe smile slightly in relief, bringing his hands up to crack them slightly as he visibly relaxed more. “Yeah.. understand that.” He murmured, glancing around the bar. “You the only one working?”

“Yep, just me.” You said, tone fakely ‘amused’ at your situation. “Who’s your girlfriend?” You asked, cocking a brow slightly as you leaned back upright. Acting as though you haven’t been pretty much stalking both Rafe and his girlfriend for the last month.

Rafe seemed a bit shocked at your question though smiled at the chance to talk about his girlfriend some more, causing a whole ass wave, no, not wave, tsunami of jealousy to overcome you as you bit back an eye roll.

“Her names Sofia, she’s also from the cut, and she’s also a bartender, used to work here actually.” Rafe started as he got more comfortable in his chair. Resting his arms along his chest. “She’s super nice, been helping me a lot. I think you two would get along.” He continued, watching as you prepped yourself a drink.

You bit your lip as he spoke about Sofia. You and Sofia? get along? yeah no, never happening.

“Super caring too, kinda making me a tinge more sympathetic.” Rafe continued, chuckling slightly. On and on he went about Sofia, an obnoxious amount. You asked who she is, not for a biography.

You sighed as you finished making yourself a drink, taking a sip of it as you continued listening to Rafe, seemingly unaware of how much Sofia is alike to you. “I care about her a lot y’know?” Rafe said, scratching his cheek slightly.

That, now that, ‘i care about her a lot’, that caused your built-up jealousy to pour out. You smiled, well, a fake smile as you looked at Rafe. “She sure sounds like me, of course you’d ‘care’ for her.” You commented sarcastically and bitterly, a bit more harsh than intended, and out of character.

And as soon as the words left your mouth and Rafes smile fell you regretted it. You bit your lip as you turned away from Rafe, taking another sip of your drink you made specially for you. The woman Rafe was here to do business with coming out from the Washroom, ‘a complete life saver’ you thought to yourself.

Rafe watched your back as you clearly ended the conversation, taken aback by your sudden bluntness as he felt almost guilty and agitated even though he knew he shouldn’t be and that this wasn’t even his fault. He sighed as he sat upright in his seat, the air becoming tense again. “Merry Christmas Y/N.” Rafe said simply as the woman sat down next to him and he diverted his attention to her.

You bit your cheek as you didn’t reply, feeling your breathing quickly quicken in speed. You escaped off into the staff washroom, closing the door behind you and resting your hands onto the sink.

Sofia. God you hated her. You knew it was unfair to hate Sofia just because Rafe moved on, but you did. You also hated Rafe for moving on so easily. In a way he just gave up on you.

But no matter how much you tried to tell yourself you ‘hated’ Rafe, you couldn’t deny how badly your body yearned for his comfort again. His attention, you missed it. You missed when you were the only girl in his life that he cared about it, next to his sisters. You knew it was a toxic mindset, but that’s just what you were used to, and it just changed to suddenly that you didn’t know how to properly react.

“The snow’s gonna fall and the tree’s gonna glisten”

You let out a shaky breath as you wiped the tears that were slowly starting to fall down your cheek. Glancing back up and out the one-way window.

The trees, covered in snow, slowly moving side to side. Christmas lights decorating the white snow that was falling and gradually piling up. The day turning dark with the late hours.

“And i’m gonna puke at the thought of you kissin’ the boy who i love who’s now in love with you”

Just the thought of Rafe and Sofia together made you feel sick with jealousy. So much that you couldn’t help how it slowly bubbled up your throat and exited through your mouth, making it to the toilet just in time as you puked all the green jealousy out. Feeling your stomach physically empty out into the toilet. You gagged as you finally stopped.

You bit your lower lip as your knees went to the ground. Feeling just a tad bit weak, you rested your elbow on the toilet seat and head in your hand, not caring how unsanitary it may be right now.

You chin trembled as you tried hard not to cry, after all you still had a job to do. The taste of puke lingering in the back of your throat.

You sighed as you tried desperately to look for any good in this situation. Perhaps the fact you puked from jealousy and you’re so bothered by everything is a sign that you and Rafe will get a chance again? yeah. That’s a possibility.

“Cindy lou who. told all my friends, they said it can’t be true”

You walked down along the sidewalk with Sarah and Kiara, telling them about the event the previous night. Having finally come clean to them about how you’ve felt about Rafe recently.

“No way Rafe did that, does he ever think?” Kiara commented, disbelief gracing her features as she crossed her arms. “Honestly i don’t even know what you saw in Rafe in the first place.” Kiara added, tone taking on a lighter tone as she glanced towards you. Feeling sympathy for you at your solemn expression.

Sarah spoke next, tone taking on one more of a typical annoyed sibling tone. “I wouldn’t take it to heart Y/N.” Sarah said, enveloping your hand into hers in an attempt at comfort. “Rafe used to be obsessed with you, that wouldn’t just.. abruptly change.” Sarah continued on, face scrunching in confusion at her brother’s behaviour.

“Seriously Y/N, don’t let this affect your Christmas.” Kiara said gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If it means anything i doubt Sofia and Rafe will even stick, Sofia seems like a decent person so she wouldn’t stick with someone like Rafe.” Kiara comforted. ‘Yeah, ‘decent’ person’ you thought to yourself. Biting your lip in frustration. Upset that nobody else saw Sofia the way you did, and that Kiara was right.

“Cindy lou who”

Sarah and Kiara didn’t see the Rafe you did, didn’t see the Rafe who wants to change and has been changing. If Sofia was a decent person she’d also see this and support him, not break up with him. She would do what you should have done. But now it was too late to do that, Rafe found someone who does support him and see him for who he is going to be and working to be, not currently is and is working to not be.

You sighed as you started feeling perhaps the most at peace then you have in a while. Looking at it this way, you couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. You supposed you could say you were having a moment of clarity; If you cared about Rafe, you’ll let him be happy. You won’t be so upset over him moving on, you won’t hate Sofia. Ok what are you saying, liking Sofia will most likely never happen. She’s just too much like you. But, like Sarah said, Rafe can’t just suddenly get over you. If it’s really not meant to be between the two of you, then you wouldn’t feel so jealous. Yeah, you liked the sound of that better. Better than wasting your time being jealous.

You sighed in content, even if it’ll just last for the next couple hours. Deciding to just let the universe flow. And having on odd confidence that Rafe and Sofia will not last. It’s just a matter of time until Rafe comes back running to you. Ok, perhaps you’re the problem.

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2024 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours

[s0ckh3adstudios]

I REALLY need to stop drawing for now because doing so is inconvenient and uncomfortable but I really wanted to get some stuff out for this AU because I have MANY ideas for it- So!!!!! Here's my take on an ISAT roleswap!!

This is Time Spent Among Stars (TSAS)! I've been brainstorming a lot for it during the past couple of days. If you know me, you know how I go about swap AU's. I try to make things as logical and faithful to both the characters and the universe and the original story as a whole.

When it comes to a roleswap for ISAT, I find it to be a very particular task. This is because ISAT happens for very specific reasons that all stem from Siffrin and the current circumstances he's in. So, go for a roleswap where the circumstances are a bit different. But I also don't want to retread on the story ISAT already told. By that I mean, for example, Twinkle is NOT Bonnie. I wonder who they could be? Alongside this is the fact that is not neccessarily a story about Bonnie needing to learn to talk about feelings or whatever with the fact that they want to stay with the party longer. That is NOT their issue to tackle, that is Siffrin's.

There's also the whole star theme. I always kind of dislike when swap AU's still include star theming and a star Loop equivalent because stars are SIFFRIN'S THING. Now you may be confused. because. hey Sock. you did that with this AU? YES. YES I DID. BUT I FOUND A WAY TO STILL CONNECT IT BACK TO BONNIE REASONABLY AND GAVE THIS AU A REASON TO STILL HAVE ITS CONNECTION TO STARS AND THE COUNTRY AND WHATNOT. GUYS I GOT IT UNDER CONTROL. AND THERE IS A REASON TWINKLE IS A STAR CHARACTER.

That's not enough preamble though- I'll put this under the cut, here's my more specific thoughts on some things and the swaps!

Bonnie is the Traveler (The Runaway)

A little kid living on the streets of Bambouche. They had washed up on shore in another town where they were tossed around foster families. They eventually ran away as none of these homes felt like theirs. They didn’t have many memories and didn’t want their memories to be with these people. Similarly to canon, after Bambouche was frozen by the curse, Bonnie ran and ran and ran from the town to the brink of exhaustion before being found by the party. When Bonnie was younger, Petronille ran away from home with them. They came from an abusive home. The night was stormy and yet Nille decided to escape by boat. They got close to country which was actively being forgotten. Nille fell from the boat, injured, but young Bonnie was fine and their boat wasn’t close enough to join. They would float back to Vaugarde with tampered memories.

Isabeau is the Housemaiden (The Missionary)

When he first went to his local House of Change, he was so inspired and interested in it all that he decided to stay and join the House. He does a lot of mission work, going around Vaugarde to teach the Change belief and whatnot.

Mirabelle is the Fighter (The Warrior)

She felt betrayed and confused and broken after Euphrasie betrayed everyone and did this to Vaugarde. She questioned everything. But she knew there was no time for that. She had to save her country. She felt obligated. She was still blessed by Euphrasie, an action done in the hope that Mirabelle would stay with her and watch the worlds perfection be frozen in time. She reufsed. She became more of a fighter after leaving on her journey, growing much more stressed and a little more on edge. She often doesn’t know her strength.

Siffrin is the Researcher (The Archivist) 

He made a different choice. Instead of letting their hazy baggage hold them back, they wanted answers. If they could never fit in here, he would figure out where he came from and why. He’s spent much of his new life in Vaugarde researching both Vaugarde itself and the mysterious tale of the country he believes they come from. They’re a little quieter and more stern and factual here, but they’re still loveable punny Sif.

Odile is the Chef (The Kid)

A talented chef who takes “too many cooks in the kitchen” to heart and often flew solo. Here she’s more interested in the recipes and food culture of Vaugarde. Instead of a familytale, she’s looking for something else- A book that is like a familytale but for family recipes. Recipes for meals or baked goods can tell you a lot about a family and their history. It’s unique to them. You can tell a lot from them by them if you know how to look. She never had these sorts of meals or recipe books back home. Not one genre of food she could resonate with personally because of her divide between Ka Bue and Vaugarde.

Euphrasie as the King (The Housemaiden}

Claude, her dearest, was killed in an accident regarding one of her creations. It broke her. It got Euphrasie rethinking everything. She didn’t want things to change anymore. She loved how things were. She didn’t want Mirabelle to change, she was happy. She didn’t want Rorey to change, he was doing so much better than when she first met him. She broke down. She wanted the entirety of Vaugarde to stay in this same peaceful happy moment. Not to mention now understanding the terror of the idea of losing her country like Rorey (The King) did.

A lot of other details are relatively the same because these are still the same characters, they’ve just gone through some different circumstances that put them in different roles. Mirabelle is still “the chosen one” and gathers the party. Isabeau is still second to be recruited. Siffrin still doesn’t talk about his feelings (but will have a friend quest where Bonnie helps them with that). Odile, like how she wouldn’t say what she was researching, now won’t tell them what kind of chef she is. Bonnie still isn’t allowed to fight. Etc etc etc.

A lot of these are still concepts and are subject to change but I would love to answer questions and doodle some more when I'm not tired LMAO. Merry Christmas Eve, may Time Spent Among Stars woe be upon ye!

[wikiangela]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[guilty-pleasures21]

HI! I read you were taking requests for Jason! I'd love to see him with a gf who absolutely loves Christmas - I'm taking about going all out with decorating her apartment, baking gingerbread houses etc... - and they both get invited to the manor to spend the holidays with the whole family, where they get to see Jason, whom they know hates celebrating most holidays, being super affectionate and giddy around his partner and helping her and Alfred decorating gingerbread cookies <3

I'm so sorry if it's a lenghty request! I love your works so much!!

Thanks, love! It always warms me up inside when someone tells me that they love my hard work 🥰🥹!

This request was seriously not lengthy at all 🤣. The more details the better and you gave me some fantastic ideas! I'd also like to credit @daheckinbestbitch for inspiring me to fluff things up to the MAXXX! I'm not sure if this is what you were looking for, but hope I did an adequate job 🥺. So, without further ado ...

Christmas special!

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: brief reference to sex.

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

     Jason lifted his head, confused by the soft music he could hear drifting into his bedroom. He focused harder on the sound and soon realised that it was Christmas music - the absolute worst kind of music there was. Jason groaned and covered his face with a pillow, muffling the sound but not getting rid of it entirely. Finally, when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he forced himself out of bed and got up to investigate. And there was the source of the accursed noise: his girlfriend, standing by the kitchen island putting the finishing touches on a log cake she’d baked to take over to Bruce’s house later. 

     “Morning, princess.” X looked up with a bright smile and her heart fluttered when she saw her boyfriend rubbing his eye as he walked over to her, his messy bedhead so irresistibly adorable in the morning. 

     “Morning, baby!” she greeted him, coaxing a happy smile out of him - he loved it when she called him that; when she treated him like a big baby she just loved to spoil and pamper. Jason leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek as he walked past her. 

     “Did you have to put on the Christmas music?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her in question. 

     “Yes!” she argued, following him over to the fridge. “It sets the mood!” She waited for him to move away from the doors before she slid her cake onto a shelf she’d emptied out for it. Jason leaned back against the counter as he took a gulp straight from the milk bottle, but he regretted it immediately when his girlfriend’s entire figure entered his field of vision. 

     “X …” Jason coughed out, setting the bottle down and taking a moment to clear his throat. “What are you wearing?” 

     She turned around to face him, giving an excited little twirl to show off her dress. “A dress! I got it for dinner at your family's place tonight! Is it okay? You don't think it's inappropriate?”

    She pursed her lips as she waited for his response, nervous for her first Christmas with her boyfriend’s family. Of course she knew everyone - being an active member of the batfamily and having been Jason’s best friend for a few years before they’d officially started dating - but she’d never spent the holidays with them before. 

     Jason curled his hands around her waist slowly, appraising her from head to toe. She was wearing a deep red sweater dress that fell to her mid-thighs. The loose material hung off one of her shoulders, leaving the other so deliciously bare, and she’d cinched the fabric around her waist with a thick black belt.

(Something like this:)

     X bit her lip when she noticed her boyfriend’s gaze rapidly darkening as he took her in. Suddenly, he pulled her to him, and she let out a surprised squeak as she fell against his chest. 

     “It's perfect,” Jason murmured, his voice almost breathless with awe. He helped his girlfriend straighten again, then ran his hands up her body, enjoying the way his core tightened at how soft she felt beneath his fingers. His eyes stayed fixed on her chest as he reached up and started to tug her other sleeve off her shoulder and X laughed at his enthusiasm. 

     “Jason.” She covered her hand with his, stopping him before he could pull the material down her chest. “It's not the time for that.”

     Jason’s expression immediately hardened into a frown. 

     “Then when is it the time?!” he asked, sulking like a spoiled little boy who'd just been told he had to wait before he could open his Christmas presents. 

     Another chuckle fell from X’s lips at his reaction and she pulled herself away from him before adjusting her dress. “Tomor-”

     “Tomorrow?!” Jason interrupted before she could even finish. “What the actual f*ck?! Ugh! This is why Christmas is the worst. F*cking. Holiday. Ever!” 

     His head fell back as he let out a disappointed groan and X pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with an unamused look as she leaned her hip against the kitchen island. “You think Christmas is the worst holiday ever because your girlfriend said she wouldn't have sex with you until the day after?”

     He narrowed his eyes at her as he considered her statement, but the fight quickly left him at how adorable she looked, standing there in her cute little dress. Jason trudged back over to her and buried his face in the crook of her neck as he wrapped her up in his arms. 

     “Well, when you put it like that …” he mumbled, taking a pause so he could have a moment to indulge in the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. Then he straightened and fixed her with a sombre expression. “Yes.”

     X burst into laughter again. “Jay! You're such an idiot, love.”

     She cupped his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks as he pouted down at her, and her resolve quickly started to weaken in the face of his ruggedly handsome features. 

     “Hmm …” Her gaze flickered briefly over to her bedroom, her expression growing more uncertain by the second. “I guess … I could squeeze you in before we head out …”

     Jason bent over, resting his forehead on hers, and his lips curled into a wicked smile. “Oh, really? You gonna squeeze me in, princess?”

     He tugged her waist towards his, pressing his hips against hers so she could feel the entire length of his morning wood. X gulped and lowered her head, barely hiding that adorable little smile that had his heart fluttering with delight every damn time he saw it. “Jaaaay ….”

     Jason grinned and lifted her up onto his hips. 

     “Come on, princess,” he decided, kissing her on the temple as he carried her back to their bedroom. “I need a shower and you don't want to be late, do you?”

     X spread her arms wide and gave Tim a big hug when he opened the door. “Merry Christmas, Tim Tam!”

     “Merry Christmas, X!” Tim patted her on the back in return, then took the cake she held in her hands. His gaze drifted over to the large pile of presents nestled in Jason’s arms and he rearranged his features into a puzzled expression. “Oh! A sentient pile of Christmas gifts? What happened to Jay? I thought he would have come with you.”

     “Ha ha, real funny, Tim Tam,” Jason said, walking past him into the house. He resisted the urge to dump the presents on the ground and instead, swallowed down his irritation and carefully set them down by the tree - X had spent so much time picking out the perfect gift for everyone and then carefully wrapping them all up by herself and Jason would literally throw himself off a cliff if he did something to ruin her favourite holiday for her. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas.”

     Tim narrowed his eyes at Jason as he shut the door behind X. “Or what? You gonna take me out back and fight me, Jay Jay?”

     Jason got up and turned to face Tim, his hands clenched into fists by his side. 

     “Wait,” X interjected, stepping in between the two of them and placing a hand on each of their chests. “Hold on. Are the two of you using the nicknames I made for you to make fun of each other?”

     Tim and Jason exchanged equal looks of apprehension at the threat in X’s tone. It took a lot to get her angry, but … you know what they say about people who rarely get angry. 

     X moved one hand to her chest and continued to lean on Jason with the other as she bent over in exaggerated hurt. “How could you? I made those nicknames with love and affection and to show you how much each of you mean to me.”

     She looked at each of them in turn, scrunching her features up as if she was about to cry. Then she dealt the killing blow. “And you take them and use them as insults?!”

     The boys fumbled for words, both of them trying to reassure X and calm her down. But then Dick walked out of the kitchen in an apron, spots of flour dotting his cheeks as he approached them. 

     “Who wants to make-” He stopped short when he saw the upset look on X’s face. His gaze flickered between Jason and Tim and he narrowed his eyes at them in suspicion. “What did you two do? You made X cry?! On Christmas?!”

     X looked up at Dick with a pathetic look on her face, trying to draw even more sympathy from him. “They were making fun of my loving nicknames for them.”

     “Aww, come on, princess,” Jason pleaded, wrapping an arm around X and bending over to meet her gaze. “You know we didn't mean it like that. We love the nicknames you give us!”

     Tim nodded eagerly in agreement and Jason brought his mouth closer to X’s ear so no one else would be able to hear his sugary sweet words of apology. 

     “I love you, babygirl,” he reminded her, squeezing her against him and peppering her face with sweet kisses. “You gonna smile for me? You gonna give me that cute little smile you know drives me crazy? I love you, baby. Don't be mad at me on Christmas!”

     X’s lips curled at the ends as she began melting at his words, her resolve crumbling with each sweet kiss he gave her. “Okay.”

     Jason grinned and held her close as she wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug.

     “Hey, Dick,” Duke began, coming out of the kitchen in an apron of his own, “the gingerbread's done. Oh! Hey, X! Hey, Jason!” 

     “Are you guys gonna start making gingerbread houses now?” X asked, so excited Jason could practically feel her buzzing in his arms.

     “Yup!” Duke confirmed. “You wanna join us?” 

     X looked up at Jason with a smile too adorable for him to resist. He loosened his grip on her, allowing her to grab his arm and tug her with him into the kitchen. 

     “Hi Alfred!” X greeted him with a wave. “Merry Christmas!” 

     “Miss X, Master Todd. Merry Christmas to the both of you.”

     “You too, Alfred,” Jason replied. X stopped by the kitchen island and inhaled the sweet, tangy scent of gingerbread wafting through the air. 

     “Mmm! Smells delicious!” She walked over to an empty tray on the kitchen island and began gathering the ingredients she needed to make a house of her own.

     Jason leaned against the counter beside her and studied her carefully, quietly learning how to build a gingerbread house - well, learning how she liked her gingerbread house to be built. He’d never really participated in Christmas traditions before they’d started dating, only ever showing up at the last minute for dinner, but … Christmas made her happy; and she made him happy. “Why don’t you do a dovetail joint for the roof? That way the pieces will stick together more and the house will be stronger.” 

     X turned to face him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A what?”

     “A dovetail joint,” Jason repeated. He grabbed one of the sheets of gingerbread from her hand and picked up a knife to start slicing a castle-like pattern into one side of it. X watched with amusement how seriously he took the task, his thick brows lowered over his moss-green eyes as he focused on spreading just enough icing on the gingerbread for the two pieces he’d carved out to stick together. 

     “Like that!” he exclaimed finally, sliding an arm around her waist as he took a step back to admire his own work. He turned to X, waiting for her approval, and her chest warmed at the cute puppy-dog look on her large and intimidating boyfriend’s face. She squeezed his shoulder and stretched onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

     “You’re so clever, Jay,” she praised him sweetly. “What should we do next?”

     Jason snuck a peak at Duke’s and Dick’s respective houses, considering his next steps.

     “Oh! We should make windows! But we need to make sure they’re fortified enough so the whole house doesn’t collapse,” he decided, lowering himself to his knees so he was eye-level with the countertop. “And we need to make sure they’re the right size, too …”

     He glanced around the table and his eyes lit up when he spotted a cylinder with some toothpicks in it. He pushed himself to his feet and glided the toothpicks across the island to X. “Baby, could you help me snap these in half and cover them in some gingerbread? We’ll use these as the window panes.”

     X’s lips wobbled as she tried to suppress her smile. 

     “Sure, sweetheart,” she obliged, setting to work immediately. But it wasn’t long before Jason decided he needed to take charge on that task too. 

     “No, wait,” he stopped her. “You’re making them too thick, doll.”

     X pressed her lips together to stop a laugh from spilling out of them. She stretched onto her toes and wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck from behind. “You want to take over, Jay? I can go help with the tree.”

     “Hmm? Yeah, sure, baby,” he replied distractedly. He kept his eyes glued to his gingerbread prototype as he slid one arm around her waist and tugged her into his side. “Come here for a second.”

     He bent over and pecked her lips a few times, coaxing a delighted giggle out of her and curious looks out of Duke and Dick. “I’ll come find you once I’m done?”

     X nodded, her smile widening at how quickly his hands returned to the gingerbread house once she’d agreed. “Okay. See you later, love!”

     “Mmm, see you later, sweetheart.”

     X bit her lip as she appraised the tree together with Tim, Damian, Steph and Cass. “It’s … okay, I guess …”

     “You don’t have to lie to us, X,” Tim assured her, “it sucks.”

     “I mean …” She trailed off, trying to find the words to minimise how disappointing the tiny plastic tree was. But Tim was right; it really did suck. X let out a defeated sigh. “You’re right, it sucks.”

     It was so glaringly obvious how fake the tree was and it was so cheap that it wasn't even able to hold half the ornaments they had before it had started tilting to one side! “But it’s too late to go buy another one now.”

     “X! X!” Jason skidded out of the kitchen, his face covered in patches of flour and a streak of icing smeared across his forehead. He grinned when his eyes landed on his girlfriend, but his features quickly creased with concern when he noticed the upset look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

     “Nothing …” She leaned into Jason’s side as he came up beside her, letting him cuddle her against him, then she forced her lips into a smile and looked up at him. “What were you going to say?”

     “Oh! Yeah!” Jason exclaimed, remembering what he’d gone to find her for. “I finished my gingerbread house! You wanna come see?”

     He flashed her an excited grin and X felt herself start to perk up again at his delight. “Of course, baby!” 

     She reached up to wipe the icing off his forehead and Jason positively melted at the tender gesture. He started leading her to the kitchen and the others followed close behind, curious to see how Jason’s first ever gingerbread house would turn out. Stephanie leaned over to Tim and whispered softly in his ear. “Uh, are we sure that’s our Jason? He’s not, like, some twisted clone Ra’s sent to mess with us?”

     Tim narrowed  his eyes at Jason’s back, his own suspicion growing now that Stephanie had mentioned it. 

     “Hmm, one can’t be too sure …” he supposed, thinking of all the past Christmases Jason had intentionally tried to ruin. Then his expression faltered as he recalled the Jason he’d seen before he himself had assumed the mantle of Robin. “But Jason … didn’t always used to be … Red Hood …”

     Steph raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what he was trying to say.

     “What are we talking about?” Damian asked, springing up out of nowhere. Stephanie and Tim jumped back in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

     “Jesus, Dames!” Stephanie breathed, clutching her chest to try to calm her racing her heart. “We were just discussing whether or not Jason got replaced by some super-affectionate Christmas-loving clone of himself or something.”

     Damian fell silent again as he considered the couple walking in front of them, Jason animatedly explaining to X all of the different techniques he’d used to build the perfect gingerbread house. “But Todd is always like that when he’s with X. Last week, he upgraded her boots so she can flick knives out of the soles now! And he made us cinnamon rolls.”

     “‘Us’?” Stephanie repeated incredulously. “What do you mean ‘us’?”

     “Wait,” Tim stopped her. “I’m more interested in the ‘cinnamon rolls’ part now.”

     “I go to their apartment once a week so X can help me with my biology homework. And then both of them help me with my literature homework,” Damian explained, shrugging as if it was no big deal that he just casually visited their apartment every week. “And the cinnamon rolls could use some work, but it was an adequate first attempt.”

     Stephanie and Tim exchanged confused looks as they tried to process Damian’s revelation. But suddenly, they stopped short in the kitchen. 

     “What,” Steph began. 

     “The heck,” Tim supplied. 

     “Is that?!” 

     Jason turned to face them, grinning proudly at the shocked expressions on their faces.

     “It’s my gingerbread house,” he announced. The group craned their heads back, incredulously studying Jason’s ten-foot tall gingerbread house. The thing was probably big enough to house an actual person! Jason turned to X and shot her a smug smile when he saw her eyes widen in wonder. “What do you think, baby? Do you like it?”

     “Yes! Oh my god! It’s amazing!” X slung her arms around Jason’s neck and pulled him down to her so she could pepper his face with kisses. “You did such a good job, Jay! Mwah!”

     Jason smiled giddily, his expression turning dazed at his girlfriend’s outpouring of affection.

     “Good job, Todd,” Damian agreed, nodding at the house in approval. “Now, can you do something about the tree?”

     Jason raised an eyebrow as he straightened, regaining his focus. “What’s wrong with the tree?”

     He turned to X in question and she let out an exaggerated sigh in response.  

     “They said that ‘it sucks',” Cass supplied helpfully, the bright smile on her face at odds with her statement.

     “Oh! Shit! My bad!” Dick cursed, shooting them a guilty smile as he raised his hand in the air. “I was supposed to pick one up from the tree farm last week, but Penguin’s goons kept sneaking around Bludhaven, so I got a plastic one as a temporary placeholder.”

     Jason rubbed X’s side as he glared at Dick in anger. How dare his brother try to ruin his precious girlfriend’s favourite holiday! What kind of idiot forgot the f*cking tree for f*cking Christmas?! He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes as he tried to calm himself down for the sake of his sweet little girlfriend.

     Dick watched Jason warily, frantically trying to think of an excuse that might calm him down. His gaze flickered over to X and he shot her a pleading look. “But it’s not that big of a deal, right, X? Christmas is about cherishing the time with the ones you love, not decorating trees and making gingerbread houses … right?”

     X swallowed hard at the desperate expression on Dick’s face and pushed down her disappointment with the fake tree. He did have a point, she tried to convince herself, even if it was her first Christmas with Jason and his family: she usually visited her own family during the holidays and she’d always push Jason to at least go over to his for dinner, but after moving in together earlier that year, she’d decided that she wanted to get involved in her sweet boyfriend’s traditions too. And maybe make some of their own that they might share with their own little family one day. “Ri-”

     “No,” Jason asserted, causing X to look up at him in bewilderment. 

     “What?” Dick asked, equally as confused as X to find a look of determination set into his younger brother’s face. Jason pointed at Tim and Dick and gestured for the two of them to follow him.

     “You and you, you’re coming with me,” he commanded, not waiting for them to follow. Dick exchanged a puzzled glance with Tim as the two of them rushed to keep up with Jason, but Tim just shrugged at him in response. 

     “Where are we going?” Dick asked. Jason stopped by the door to take a dramatic pause. Then he looked up into the distance, his gaze intense.

     “To save Christmas.”

[mortallydeepestobservation]

Glitter, glue, I love you

Summary: You and Namjoon have been married for quite some time, your relationship having only grown since you first met as bright-eyed students back in the day. Now, you're a passionate primary school teacher, and Namjoon is an inspiring college professor, both deeply invested in shaping young minds. This holiday season, after a long day at work, you find yourselves staying late to decorate your classroom. Namjoon, ever the considerate soul, swings by to pick you up, but of course, you take advantage of the opportunity and put him to work. As you hang twinkling lights and arrange paper snowflakes, the conversation takes a meaningful turn. In the midst of the holiday madness, you talk about your future, and the idea of starting a family emerges… Best Christmas gift ever. Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: Fluff and smut. Married couple Au. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: this is honestly just a fluffy slice of life drabble. Namjoon is clumsy, and whipped. Spandex? drinking. Smut warnings: soft dom Namjoon, big cock Namjoon, oral (m and f receiving) praise, multiple positions, a little overstimulation, just a smidge of breeding kink. Word count: 14k Author’s note: Okay. I know I have an ongoing story, but I do this thing, where I get overwhelmed with life and just blurt out a whole drabble. Usually in those moments the story I’m already working on drives me insane, so I… do this. sorry?😊 thank you sweet sweet @callmenoona25 for accepting my... quirk when i just drop a whole new fic on your lap out of nowhere lol. Thank you @rpwprpwprpwprw For the perfectly aesthetic joonie photos!

(fun fact, i used to know a baby chicken little. He'd always break his glasses down the middle) Merry Christmas everyone!❄️🎄

Your new crafting scissors glided against the construction paper with ease. A flurry of cut-off bits, small pieces of colourful paper, glitter, pompoms, and anything else that merely resembled a Christmas theme littered your classroom floor.

A delightful chaos surrounded you—scraps of red, green, and gold paper mingled with stray stickers, twisted up pipe cleaners, and the occasional orphaned googly eye. It was a mess, the kind only a classroom holiday crafting session could conjure, and yet here you were, adding more to it.

The new scissors, sharp and precise, were a joy to wield, effortlessly turning construction paper into stars, trees, and snowflakes. You got so absorbed in your work that the mountain of scrap paper piling up next to your desk barely registered anymore.

The room was silent now. The kiddos had left hours ago, followed by a parent-teacher conference and a staff meeting to finalize plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday party. By the time you returned to your classroom, the exhaustion was bone-deep, and the sight of the disaster awaiting you made you groan.

But as you approached your desk and spotted a few abandoned crafts—a lopsided tree, a glue-smeared snowman—a spark of creativity flickered to life. The supplies were already out, and with autumn decorations still clinging to the walls, you figured you might as well get a head start on transforming the room into a winter wonderland before the weekend.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cutting and crafting, glueing and arranging, the silence of the empty classroom wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was practically the only moment during the long, exhausting day when you could to sit down and just let your thoughts wonder.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice the sun setting—or the faint creak of your classroom door opening.

“Mrs. Kim, it seems my wife forgot to come home today after class.”

You froze mid-snip, the scissors poised in your hand, a half-finished snowflake dangling from your grip. The familiar voice carried a teasing warmth that made your cheeks flush before you spun around in your chair, to catch a glimpse.

Standing in the doorway was you husband, Namjoon, leaning casually against the doorframe with that playful grin you loved (or occasionally cursed for how easily it could fluster you).

His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and his coat draped over one arm, a telltale sign that he’d come straight from his own long day at work. Yet his smile was bright, his tired eyes twinkling with delight upon seeing you, like he was about to tell you the best pun he ever heard.

“You know, most people would’ve taken that parent-teacher meeting as their cue to call it a day,” he teased, crossing his arms. His gaze swept over the room, taking in the colourful chaos, before settling on you.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound casual as you placed your scissors on the desk and brushed the glitter from your hands, leaning back against the chair. “After that I also had a staff meeting.”

His grin widened. “Did you cut out the staff out of paper?”

You huffed at his playful remark, picking up a pompom from the desk and tossing it in his direction. The fluffy projectile sailed weakly through the air before plopping to the floor with an overly dramatic bounce, getting lost in the multicoloured mess on the ground. “Very funny, Mr. Kim,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your scissors to finish the snowflake.

Namjoon laughed, stepping into the room, his footsteps soft against the glitter-dusted floor. “I prefer clever over funny.”

You mused, pretending to consider his suggestion. “I’ll agree when you grab some paper and make something clever yourself.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I’m just here to admire the handiwork—And maybe rescue my wife before she buries herself in glitter.”

“Too late for that.” You laughed, showing him the underside of your hands, covered in an array of colourful plastic bits and flecks of glitter.

He laughed too, his warmth filling the classroom as he settled into a nearby chair. He watched you with quiet amusement as you snipped away the final pieces of the snowflake.

Once done, you brushed the remains off the desk with a casual sweep of your hand, letting the scraps fall to the already messy floor. Reaching for a spool of string, you began tying a loop to hang the snowflakes.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, “I was just thinking I could use a tall, handsome man to help me hang these from the ceiling.”

His dimples deepened slightly as his lips curled into a smirk. “Should I fetch the principal for you?”

“God, no!” you exclaimed, shooting him a mock-horrified look.

Namjoon’s laughter echoed again, and he stood, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of your chair. “Fine. Lucky for you, I happen to know a tall, handsome man who’s free to lend a hand. On one condition.”

“And that is?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed him the snowflake.

“I get to take you out for dinner afterwards.”

“You hang up my décor and I don’t have to cook dinner?” you said with a grin, watching as he reached up to hang the snowflake with ease. “You’ve got yourself a deal, my love.”

Namjoon smirked as he hooked the snowflake onto the ceiling, his long fingers adjusting it so it hung perfectly. “Don’t get too excited. You’re paying, and I’m starving,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you handed him another snowflake. “Starving? You make it sound like you haven’t eaten all day.”

“I haven’t eaten enough,” he corrected, taking the snowflake and hanging it with the same care as the first. “Besides, all this helping is hard work. I’m burning calories just by existing in this glitter cloud.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, before standing up and stretching as much as possible, waiting for that satisfying pop that made your back come to life after sitting at your desk for hours.

While Namjoon made remarkable progress on the snowflakes, you retrieved your broom and vacuum cleaner, trying to salvage the floor and not declare war with the cleaning staff in the process.

Once it finally started looking like a classroom again—crayons arranged, glue sticks all capped and drawings proudly hung up on the walls —you fetched your seasonal décor box from the supply closet, gathering the autumn leaves and acorns as you went.

The sound of Namjoon’s soft humming filled the room as he continued to hang the rest of the snowflakes. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, so effortlessly blending into your little world. His tall frame moving with ease as he reached up to secure another delicate snowflake.

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” you teased, carefully arranging the autumn décor for storage.

“Just trying to make your life easier,” Namjoon replied, his voice warm. He stepped back to admire his work, hands on his hips like he’d just solved a complex philosophy problem.

You smiled, unrolling the fairy lights on your desk, silently thanking your teacher assistant for her knack for packing them neatly and knot-free.

“Think you can help me with this too?”

When you looked up, you noticed Namjoon standing next to the wall where your classroom photo was hung up. It was a large picture of you surrounded by your students, all laughing and holding colourful balloons.

The parents had given it to you as a gift on the first day of this school year, though it had been taken during the end-of-year celebration when your little first graders graduated.

Around the group photo, you’d carefully arranged individual pictures of each child, their names neatly written underneath and decorated with felt stickers.

Namjoon stood quietly, his eyes scanning the display with a soft smile tugging at his lips. His expression was a mix of pride and warmth, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“What’s baby Chicken Little up to?” he asked, glancing over at you, the playful nickname making you giggle.

Last year your heart had been stolen by a little boy named Minjun, who made it his yearlong mission to bring you a leaf or a flower every single day of school. His little backpack was almost as big as he was, and he’d always greet you with the brightest, most infectious smile when he walked through the door, before dropping the little plant on your desk and giving you an adorable bow.

You’d told Namjoon all about him at the end of each day, and when you proudly showed him the photo you’d snapped of Minjun on your phone, Namjoon cooed and playfully nicknamed him baby Chicken Little. All because of his “iconic green glasses,” which happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones the animated character wore.

“He’s doing really well. A little genius when it comes to multiplications, although his calligraphy could use some work.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples making an appearance as he glanced back at Minjun’s photo. “Multiplications, huh? Guess he’s already ahead of the curve.”

You smiled fondly, scavenging through your storage boxes for the chalk markers. “He’s a sharp one. Always so curious. His mom says he’s been teaching his little sister how to count using her barbie dolls.

Namjoon’s expression softened further. “Sounds like a future teacher in the making.”

You giggle, “Only if he can pass your philosophy 101 class in college.”

“Oh, come on! You know I’m not as mean as you make me out to be.”

You raised an eyebrow, pausing your search for the chalk markers to give him a teasing look. “Not as mean? Should I remind you about that one student—what was his name? Jungkook? —who said your essay prompts were harder than his organic chemistry final?”

Namjoon groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “That was one time! And he clearly didn’t read the syllabus.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, stifling a laugh as you finally found the markers, holding them up triumphantly. “I’m just saying, if Minjun wants to pass your class, he better start practicing his critical thinking skills now.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, feigning offense. “For the record, my students love me. I’m approachable, insightful, and, dare I say... inspiring.”

You watched as Namjoon gave you that challenging look, daring you to tease him further. But deep down, you knew 100% that he was right.

After all, he’d proudly told you about Jungkook— the ‘Muscle Bunny’—who, by the end of the year, would refuse to leave the classroom after lessons, just for a chance to talk with Namjoon about everything from philosophy to general life issues. (And on more than one occasion, you had to swing by the college to collect your husband, because they were both so emersed in the conversation.)

Sure, Jungkook may have started out as a bit of a tough nut, but by the end of the semester, he was one of Namjoon’s biggest fans.

You chuckled softly at the thought. Namjoon had a way of drawing people in, even the most unlikely candidates. It’s what made him such an outstanding teacher. And you couldn’t be happier that you managed to snatch him up before he even graduated with his teacher’s degree.

“I know you are.” You said honestly, watching his posture soften, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the compliment.

Namjoon’s dimples deepened, and he turned back to look at the photos on the wall. A comforting silence falling over the classroom again as you started drawing with the chalk markers on the windows.

It was just as you were finishing the last details of the snowman that Namjoon spoke again, his voice steady but carrying a weight that immediately caught your attention.

“Do you think we’d make good parents?”

The question hung in the air, quiet and unexpected, causing you to freeze mid-stroke. Your hand suspended, the tip of the marker just inches away from the snowman’s little top hat. You hadn’t expected that. Namjoon had always been thoughtful, but this… this was something entirely different.

You turned slowly, finding him looking at you, his expression unreadable but soft. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure why he asked the question, but was waiting for your answer nonetheless.

“Good parents?” you repeated, your voice quieter than usual, the weight of the question settling into your chest. It wasn’t just a casual inquiry—it felt loaded and significant. It felt like he was asking something deeper, something that might change your life in the very near future.

Namjoon seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words, but instead, he stayed silent, letting the question linger.

You cleared your throat, your thoughts racing. Was he asking about parenting techniques? Was this a hypothetical question, or was there something more to it? You couldn’t quite tell. But the thought of it—of you and Namjoon as parents—flashed across your mind, and for a split second, you felt a warmth spread in your chest.

You’d talked about your future many times—even while you were still just dating—and you both agreed you wanted kids. But there was never a set timeline or a specific goal you wanted to reach before starting a family.

You took a slow breath, trying to gather your thoughts as the weight of the question settled in your mind. The idea of having a baby—it was something you’d talked about casually, even dreamt about in passing. But now, with his eyes on you, the conversation suddenly felt real, more tangible than it ever had before.

You finally put the chalk marker down on the desk, turning fully to face him. “You’ve asked me before about the future,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “But this... this feels different. Are you asking because you’re actually thinking about it?”

Namjoon looked at you, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity that made your cheeks heat up. “I mean-” he said after a beat, his voice almost uncertain. “I guess I���ve been thinking about it more lately, especially with everything we’ve built together. I don’t think we can get any more financially stable. And we’ve got a good thing, right? We work well as a team. I just... I wonder what it would be like to take that next step, with you.”

Your heart nearly exploded, a big grin spreading across your face that would certainly make your cheeks hurt if you kept it up. He had a way of making everything feel possible, of making you believe in the future even when you didn’t have all the answers. The thought of raising kids with him, of teaching them the way you both wanted to, filled you with an overwhelming sense of warmth and certainty.

“I think we’d be great,” you said, your voice full of honest affection. “We’d make an amazing team. I know we’ve got the love, the patience, and the understanding to do it.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, as if taking in your words, before a soft smile crept onto his face.

You knew you weren’t about to get a confirmation from him, not now at least. Namjoon needed to steep in his thoughts a bit more before he would finally and ultimately tell you he wants a baby.

Still, his smile lingered, and he slowly nodded, as if to affirm your words without needing to say anything else just yet.

The silence between you both felt comfortable, like a promise for the future—an unspoken understanding that this was a conversation that didn’t need to be rushed.

After a moment, he reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft but sure.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace settle in your chest. Even despite hearing those same exact words come out his mouth millions of times, they still wrapped around you like a protective embrace, making everything else, every worry, every unfinished plan and every glitter-littered snowflake fade into the background.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the moment. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with the same devotion that was in his eyes.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, before glancing around the classroom, “What did you ask me to do?”

“Fairy lights, Joon.”

Namjoon chuckled softly at your reminder, his fingers still lingering on your cheek for a moment before he stepped back. “Right, right,” he said, shaking his head. “I got distracted from the important things.”

You watched him walk toward the desk to finish hanging the fairy lights, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you returned to your drawing. The weight of the earlier conversation still lingered in the air, but it left you with a spark of excitement.

As he carefully draped the lights along the chalkboard, you noticed how effortlessly he moved, how much care he put into making sure everything was perfect. You’d always admired that about him—his attention to detail, his quiet confidence in everything he did. And now, with every little task, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of certainty.

“Almost done,” Namjoon called out, glancing over his shoulder. You gave him a thumbs-up, your smile widening as he finished the last strand of lights.

The classroom now looked like a cozy little haven, with the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle warmth over the space. Everything felt perfect.

 You capped your marker once the windows were done, and walked over to your desk to organize a little bit, putting away the potentially dangerous supplies, before closing the drawers and the boxes.

Namjoon stood beside you, his hands in his pockets as he admired the room. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it’s still missing one thing.”

You frowned, stopping mid-motion, to glance around. “What’s that?”

He reached down, gently tugging you to your feet and closing the last box for you. “Us. Out of here, enjoying a well-deserved dinner.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, grabbing his coat and your bag before stepping away from the desk. Namjoon fetched your coat from the hanger, draping it over your shoulders with a soft smile. He then took your hand, a firm but gentle hold, and started guiding you toward the door, almost certain that if he didn’t, you’d find something else to do.

As you walked together, you paused by to the classroom pet cage, drawn by the soft rustling inside. The little chinchilla scamped out of his enclosure and over to the bars, his nose twitching as he looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

“Did I tell you we need to take Professor Fluff this Christmas break?” You asked, grabbing a treat from the nearby jar and tossing it into the cage, watching as the chinchilla eagerly snatched it up and started nibbling on it.

Namjoon, holding the door open for you, tilted his head as you walked back to him.

“Wasn’t it Teacher Assistant Park’s turn?”

“She’s pregnant, Namjoonie. She can’t.”

You slipped your hand into his, smiling as his fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the dimly lit school halls.

“She should be able to handle a chinchilla if she expects to take care of a baby.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “No, babe, it’s about allergies.”

Namjoon sighed dramatically but couldn’t fully hide his grin. “That settle it. Definitely getting you pregnant. Even if only for the perks —wife comes home on time, and I get to have her all to myself for the holidays.”

You blushed furiously at his comment, a big, droopy smile tugging on your lips.

“Oh, come on. How much time do you think Professor Fluff is going to keep me occupied?” you tease, bumping your shoulder against him as you walk.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, playful glint in his eyes. “With what I have planned for you, more than I like.” he replied, pulling the door shut behind him as the two of you stepped out into the crisp evening air.

You laugh, your cheeks still warm from the blush he had put there. Namjoon's teasing always had a way of making your heart flutter, but this time, there was something deeper in his words—something that felt like it carried a promise.

“I swear, you really know how to keep me on my toes,” You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his touch on your hand as he guided you out into the crisp evening air.

He grinned, pulling you closer to him as you made your way to the car. “That's the idea. Keep you guessing, keep you interested.” He gave you a wink, the playful glint never leaving his eyes, even as he opened the driver’s door for you.

“I don’t think you need to work too hard at it. You're already the most interesting person I know.” You said when he settled into the passengers seat.

Namjoon's smile softened, and for a moment, you could see the sincerity behind his teasing demeanour.

“I like that you think that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, as he slowly leaned over the console to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

You melted into him, the soft press of his lips against yours lingering for just a moment longer than usual, making your heart race. It was the type of kiss that had you coming back for more, the kind that melted all your worries away, and made you feel like you two were the only ones in the world.

As he pulled away, he gave you a playful smile, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Now please drive. I’m starving.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shift in tone, your heart still fluttering from the lingering kiss.

“Always about food with you,” you sigh, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. “I guess I'll just have to accept that food is your first love.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression turning mischievous. “Well, if food's my first love, you, my dear, are my favourite dessert.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a mix of amusement and affection swirling inside you, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach.

You glanced over at him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that so?” You said, your voice teasing as you focused on the road.

Namjoon's grin widened; his eyes gleaming. “Absolutely. You’re sweet, irresistible, and I could spend hours between your legs.”

A flush crept up your cheeks as your grip on the steering wheel tightened, the tension between you two shifting. His words hung in the air, teasing but also carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken.

“Keep talking like that and I'm taking you home,” you threatened.

Namjoon’s expression shifted in an instant from playful to mock-serious. “No, no,” he whined, leaning back into the seat with a dramatic sigh. “I promise I'll be good.”

You giggle. “What do you want to eat then?”

He lit up again, his mock seriousness giving way to his usual enthusiasm. “That little BBQ place that opened up down the street from us.”

“The one you haven’t stopped talking about since they put up the ‘coming soon’ sign?”

“That’s the one,” he admitted unabashedly, his grin growing wider “It’s fate. They opened just in time for us to have the perfect date.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned the car toward home. “I guess it is. But I’m parking at home and we can walk—that way, I can drink too.”

“Oh, is my baby planning to get wasted tonight?” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“No,” you chuckled, glancing at him with a smirk. “But I know for a fact you’re going to order that fancy whiskey you always get, and I don’t want to be stuck as the designated driver.”

Namjoon laughed, his deep dimpled grin lighting up his face. “Fair point. That whiskey is worth the walk. And hey, I’ll carry you home if you have one too many.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. It hasn’t been such a bad week” you smile at him, “But I won’t say no to being spoiled by you a little.”

“Always,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’ll spoil you every chance I get.”

You couldn't help but grin at his words, the warmth in his voice making your blush reappear. There was something so comforting in the way he always knew how to make you feel special, how he was so genuine in every little thing he did for you.

“So, you’re paying tonight?”

“Nope,” he smiled, popping the p, and earning a heartfelt laughter from you.

As the two of you approached your home, you turned the car into the driveway, the familiar sight of your house welcoming you. Namjoon was already getting out of the car, his excitement for the evening palpable.

“Let me grab my bag, and we’ll head out,” you said, stepping out of the car and locking it. Namjoon waited by the gate, glancing around as the evening air started to cool, a few stray little snowflakes lazily drifting through the air. The stars above twinkled in the dark sky, and the soft hum of the city around you made it feel like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Let’s go,” you replied with a grin, your arm slipping through his. You walked down the quiet street together, the comfortable rhythm of your steps matching each other effortlessly.

The neighbourhood was peaceful, with only a few cars passing by, and the crisp air reddening the tip of your nose. As you reached the corner of the street, the warm glow of the BBQ restaurant came into view. The scent of grilled meat and spices filled the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation, and reminding you your last meal was breakfast, many hours ago.

“There it is,” Namjoon said, his voice full of excitement. “I’ve been dreaming of this all week.”

You laughed, the sound easy and full of affection. “It’s definitely been a long time coming, huh?”

“Worth the wait,” he replied, grinning.

As you entered the restaurant, the cozy atmosphere wrapped around you, and the delicious smells only heightened your anticipation. Namjoon gave you a playful glance, watching as you all but jump with excitement, before leading you to a little booth. You, of course, slid in next to him, and cuddled up against his side as you waited for the waiter. Namjoon grinned as you cuddled up against his side, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. The booth was small, but cozy, and the warm lighting of the restaurant made it feel like a private little nook just for the two of you.

As you settled in, your gaze drifted to the menu, although, truthfully, you were more focused on the tall and handsome man next to you. His warm presence besides you, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to make you feel safe and cared for. The man who wanted a family with you, who would undoubtedly take perfect, tender care of your little human being, and who would hang out at the museum talk hours on end about his favourite pieces with the kiddo, like they could grasp every single concept. Before, undoubtedly trying to teach your baby the deepest philosophy concepts ever, and five different musical instruments all at once.

The waiter soon approached, and Namjoon, with his usual confidence, ordered for the both of you without missing a beat. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted—he already knew. A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him. He always did that, always taking care of things in his own calm, capable way. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

Once the drinks arrived—a neat whiskey bottle that you couldn’t remember the name of—you clinked your glasses together in a soft toast.

“To perfect dates,” Namjoon said with a glint in his eye, his voice warm and filled with affection as he held his glass up to yours.

“To many more to come,” you replied, your voice light but sincere, the sound of it carrying a promise in the air between you.

The glass met with a soft clink, and the warmth of the whiskey settled in your chest as you took your first sip, savouring the smooth, smoky flavour. Namjoon mirrored your actions, the ice in his glass gently clinking as he took a long sip, never breaking his gaze from you.

You smiled at him, the familiar tenderness filling your heart, a slow, easy feeling of contentment settling over you. There was something special about moments like this—about sharing time in each other’s presence, just the two of you, with no outside distractions.

It reminded you of your first few dates, back when you two were both overworked students with a seriously high number of sleepless nights, and a very poor diet consisting mostly of cola and noodles. Back when he was so nervous that he basically talked to himself the whole date, stumbling over his words in a rush to make the ‘conversation flow’, but still managing to make you laugh with his awkward charm. You didn’t tease him about it back then, how could you? When he’d look at you like you could single-handedly change the world with a flutter of your eyelashes.

And when you agreed to a second date, he gave you the biggest, cheesiest smile you ever saw, before accidentally bumping into you as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, somehow managing to smack you in the face with his forehead.

You froze for a second, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence, before he apologized in a flurry and left you alone and confused in front of your dorm room.

Imagine his surprise when you called him for details about the promised second date.

Even so, there was never a moment when Namjoon ever made you feel unsafe, or like he was going out with you just to make up for his awkwardness. No, despite his nervousness, he always made sure you felt valued, cherished, and like you were the most important person in the room. That was one of the things you’d grown to love about him. He was sincere in every gesture, every word, even when he felt uncertain about himself.

That second date he got to kiss you right.

You had both come a long way since then. The clumsy first kiss was just a part of the story now, a little cherished memory that always brought a warm smile to your lips whenever you thought about it. You’d grown together since that day, and with each date, each shared moment, your bond had only deepened.

Now, here you were, sitting next from him, your husband, in this cozy little restaurant, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey and the various dishes that the waiter brought out for you.

Everything felt right. There was no doubt in your mind that this, right here, was exactly where you were meant to be.

Namjoon caught your eye, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re smiling to yourself.”

“I’m happy,” you replied simply.

Namjoon softened, his eyes filled with warmth as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “Me too,” he said, his words wrapping around your heart and making it jump in your chest. You quickly leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, giggling a bit when he let out a soft, surprised puff, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected gesture. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice light with amusement but still smooth .

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the devotion in your gaze unwavering. “For making me happy. And for hanging the snowflakes in my classroom.” You paused for a quick second, before smirking. “And for paying for dinner?”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “Nope.”

He laughed at your fake little pout, before holding out his chopsticks to you. “Here, try this.”

You opened your mouth wide, waiting for him to feed you the piece of beef he cooked, only for it to fall from his chopsticks and right on your button-down shirt.

You both froze for a moment, staring at the little piece of beef resting on your chest. Namjoon blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief before he broke into a fit of laughter, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

“Smooth,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you reached for the beef and popped it into your mouth, before grabbing a napkin to wipe away the mess on your shirt.

“I'm so sorry,” Namjoon said, still laughing, but his voice filled with genuine concern. “I swear I aimed for your mouth.”

You dabbed the spot on your shirt, trying to suppress your own laughter. “That’s what he said.”

At that little comment he gave you a deep belly laugh, a hand covering his mouth, before grabbing another napkin for you.

“I’ll take it to the cleaners tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He still giggled like a little kid watching you try to rub the stain away.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart warm at the small, sweet gesture. “I think it’s fine,” you said, your voice softening as you met his eyes. “It's just a shirt. But it’s the thought that counts.”

Namjoon tilted his head, his dimpled grin returning. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, leaning in slightly, his voice lower and softer. “I swear.”

The temptation to flirt back tugged at you, but the urge to tease him was simply too strong to resist.

“You can start by not burning the rest of the meat on the grill.”

“Shit!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction as he whipped around to check the grill. The sizzling sound of beef filled the air, and he immediately sprang into action, grabbing the tongs and flipping the steaks with exaggerated haste.

“Shit, shit!” he muttered under his breath, his hands moving quickly but still a little too late to save the edges of the tender cuts from burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching the frantic yet adorable way he tried to salvage the meal. "Maybe next time, don’t get so distracted by my chest," you teased, leaning back in your chair with a sly grin

“I swear I’m a better cook when I’m not trying to impress you.” he confessed with an embarrassed smile that made your heart pick up again.

“Why are you still trying to impress me? You’re already getting in my pants tonight.” You flutter your eyelashes up at him, leaning into his side.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath, focusing back on the grill with renewed determination.

You let out a laugh, unable to resist bugging him further. “Come on, Namjoonie, you don’t have to work this hard for me. I’m already sold. Burned beef and all.”

He shot you a quick look over his shoulder, his dimple making a reappearance as he smirked. “Oh, I know you’re sold. But I still have to keep my reputation intact. Can’t have you thinking you married a man who can’t even grill properly.”

You shrugged playfully. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly drawn to you for your cooking skills to begin with.”

Namjoon smirked, his eyes briefly flicking to yours with a teasing glint before he said, “Good. Then I guess my other skills will have to do now too.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Mr. Kim. You keep that up, and I’m taking you home.”

Namjoon’s laugh was loud and deep, echoing around the room as he handed you the piece of meat. “Eat first,” he said with mock seriousness, his tone firm but the amusement dancing in his eyes betrayed him. “And you’re getting dessert too.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, smirking “You’re just going to eat half of whatever I pick, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he admitted shamelessly, his grin widening in triumph, dropping some veggies on your plate too.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laugh as you reached for the menu. “Fine. Let’s get the profiteroles. They look amazing, and you can’t mess up sharing that.”

Namjoon arched a brow. “Are you implying I messed up sharing earlier?”

You shot him a pointed look, lips twitching with amusement. “There’s beef on my shirt, Namjoon.”

Namjoon paused mid-grin, glancing down at your chest, before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. No more distractions.” He turned back to the grill, but not without throwing you a cheeky wink first. “Although, just for the record, you’re quite distracting when you wear that skirt.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I swear, you're impossible.”

Yet there wasn’t even a crumb of conviction in your tone.

The evening carried on naturally, the warmth of the alcohol and the steady rhythm of conversation made everything feel comfortable. The intimate little interludes— the flirting, teasing, the way his eyes never strayed far from you—kept the energy between you two charged. You weren’t sure whether it was the drinks, or Namjoon’s smile, or a mix of both, but you couldn’t deny the way everything felt amplified. You were tipsy, needy, and feeling more than a little flushed.

Namjoon noticed it before you did, that little shift in the air around you. He leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he casually placed his hand over thigh. “You’re looking a little red,” he remarked softly, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made a shiver run down your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, shifting slightly in your seat. “I think I might’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Mm, I noticed,” he said, his voice smooth, low. He didn’t pull his hand away, but instead gave your leg a gentle squeeze, before moving his hand higher up edging the seam of your skirt, “You look adorable though.”

A soft heat spread through you, making your heart beat in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. There was something in his gaze—something undeniably intense—that made the air between you feel thick. Like you could just eat him up, and he’d thank you.

“Do I need to carry you home?”

“No.” You swallowed, shifting your eyes away. “But you should stop looking at me like that. You’re making me blush.” You replied, trying to play it off, but your words felt like they were slipping from your lips a little too easily. You could feel his gaze on you, assessing, as if he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

Namjoon’s gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned in a fraction closer. His thumb gently stroked your skin, the simple touch sending a spark of heat straight to your core. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach twist in the most wonderful of ways.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible under the weight of his attention. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smirked.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, not sure whether it was a plea or a warning.

The playful banter felt more like a slow burn now, the kind that lingered in the spaces between your words and between your slowed movements.

 “Mm?”

“Please get the tab, so I can pay and we can go.”

Namjoon’s lips curled, his fingers still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Impatient, baby?” He murmured, his voice deeper now, like he was savouring the effect he was having on you.

You nodded, the growing need clouding your thoughts. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible. “I want to go home.”

He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to blur out of existence. His breath was warm against your skin, and the weight of his gaze made you feel both exposed and electrified. It didn’t even register that you were out in public anymore, or that there were other patrons around. The only thing on your mind was his dark eyes staring at you.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low and steady, his smirk never wavering. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He slid his hand off your leg, but not without one last lingering touch—soft, deliberate, and devastating—leaving you absolutely wrecked as he leaned back to call the waiter.

(Of course, he didn’t even let you see the tab, snatching it up and paying for your meal without a second thought.)

Every movement of his was slow, measured, like he knew exactly where your limit was and he was drawing it all out with maddening precision. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension, humming in the spaces where his fingers lingered, where his gaze met yours.

And when he brushed your hair to the side to help you slip into your coat, his hand found the back of your neck, resting there for just a second longer than necessary—firm and warm, enough to leave your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

The moment the door of the restaurant swung open, a gust of cold air hit you, the crisp night biting at your skin. The alcohol in your blood dulled slightly, replaced by the clarity of the chill as you instinctively pulled your coat tighter around you. Yet, the thin fabric did little to shield you from the cold, the breeze slipping through the seams.

Namjoon was right beside you, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street as if the cold didn’t faze him at all. With a glance your way, he stepped closer, shrugging his own coat higher on his shoulders before slipping his arm around you without hesitation. His hand rested lightly on your back, the weight of it both grounding and comforting.

His warmth beside you was enough to make the walk more bearable, and the anticipation bubbling inside you made it all worthwhile.

He turned to you, a slight smile on his lips. “Cold out here, huh?” he said, his breath visible in the night air, quickly leading you towards your home.

You nodded, pulling your scarf up a little higher to shield your face from the cold.

Without a word, Namjoon slid his arm around your shoulders, tucking you closer to his side. His touch was casual yet deliberate, like he didn’t need permission but still silently asked for it. The fabric of his coat was rough against your cheek, but his body heat bled through, chasing away the chill that had started to seep into your skin.

The street was quiet, the glow of streetlights casting long, soft shadows as you walked side by side. Those shy snowflakes from earlier now growing bolder, swirling down in earnest. They clung to your hair and coat, melting into tiny droplets against the warmth of your skin.

Namjoon’s hand shifted after a while, slipping down to find yours. Without hesitation, he slid both into the pocket of his coat, the gesture so natural and intimate that it made your stomach flutter anew. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absently, a small but steady movement that set your heart racing. Each step brought you closer together, your shoulders brushing now and then, as you neared your house.

His presence, the solid warmth of him beside you, was more than enough to keep the chill at bay.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the crisp night air as he glanced over at you.

You nodded, your breath forming soft clouds in the cold. “Yeah. This is nice.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Nice? You’re freezing.”

“You’re hot.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, accompanied by a fit of giggles that felt almost too loud in the still night. The alcohol still hummed faintly in your system, loosening your tongue, but it was worth it just to see Namjoon stutter, his eyebrows raising.

And then he laughed, full and rich, the sound reverberating through you. “Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head with an amused smile. His cheeks tinged pink—maybe from the cold, maybe not—as he reached into his other pocket, pulling out his set of keys.

“Smooth,” he teased, glancing sideways at you as he fiddled with them, making quick work of finding the right one. The lock clicked open, and he stepped aside to let you in first, the warmth of the indoors beckoning you like a sanctuary.

As you passed, he caught your arm gently, his fingers brushing along its length. His eyes met yours, a daring glint in them that suddenly made your heart pick up again.

It wouldn’t be the first time Namjoon pins you to the first flat surface as soon as you walked through the door, fucking every single sensible though out of your brain, and that idea sends a tingle of excitement coursing through your body. You smile up at him, leaning further into his touch.

But Namjoon is undeterred.

“Don’t make snow all over the place. I mopped yesterday.”

You tilted your head, a little indignant puff escaping your lips before you smirk, toeing off your snowy boots by the door. “You’re so sexy when you do chores.” You push your luck further, but your lovely husband can’t seem to pick up on it.

 “That’s it. No more drinks for you.”

“Mm, you love it,” you teased, stepping past him into the warmth of the hallway.

The cozy embrace of the house wrapped around you, softening the crisp chill that clung to your skin, inviting that sense of ease that only your home could bring. You made quick work of shedding your coat and boots, setting them neatly by the door before stretching your arms high above your head, a little moan escaping your lips as the tension of the day melted away.

Namjoon glanced over just in time to catch your little display, his eyes flickering with amusement—and something else. “Comfortable already?” he shrugged off his own coat and tossing it over a chair.

“Very,” you replied with a content sigh. Without much thought, you made your way to the living room and plopped down on the couch, curling up against the soft cushions.

Namjoon followed behind, shaking the snow from his hair before taking his seat right next to you. His long body settled into the couch with easy grace, his head leaning back against the cushions, eyes lazily studying you as you sink further into the couch.

The warmth of the room wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, combining perfectly with the comfortable silence that filled the air. You could feel the weight of the night slip away.

The alcohol was still buzzing lightly through your veins, making you feel a little lighter, more complacent.

Namjoon shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as his hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers resting there with an easy familiarity. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of your skirt, and when he shifted again, his touch grew bolder, fingers tracing slow circles just above your knee.

The small touch made your heart pickup again, and you looked up at him, catching the softness in his expression as he glanced back at you.

“So tired,” he confessed, almost like it was a secret. The day had been long for both of you, and you had no doubt the holiday season weighed just as heavily on him. Sure, yours was filled with glittering snowflakes and loud kids singing out of tune Christmas carols, while his likely consisted of conference calls, paper grading and presentations, but fatigue didn’t discriminate.

Still, there was something about the evening, the silence between you two, that made it all feel worthwhile. The day was over, but the night had a way of stretching on, leaving just enough space for small moments like this. Because with Namjoon, there was always something that made the world feel quieter, easier. Like he was grounding you, helping you recharge in a way no one else could.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response, your voice a little dreamy as you let your head fall to the side, leaning against his shoulder.

“You look tired too,” he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness, still his hand shifted to the inside of your thigh, fingers massaging your skin softly.

“I am,” you admitted with a small sigh, your body naturally melting into his touch as the knots in your muscles began to dissolve.

Yet, even as your body relaxed, a spark flickered deep in your belly—undeniable and growing—kindled by the deliberate care in his movements, each touch purposeful and impossible to ignore.

“But I’m also horny,” you tack on after a few seconds, your voice a little breathy, your eyes flicking up to meet his, watching for his reaction.

Namjoon’s hand stilled for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze dropped briefly to where his fingers rested against your leg, then lifted to meet your eyes. His smile turned slow, deliberate, and his voice dropped an octave when he finally responded.

“Is my baby needy?”

You nodded slowly, feeling completely vulnerable under his deliberate admiration “Yeah,” you whispered, the word falling form your lips like a confession. “I want you.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, as if testing the waters, giving you a chance to pull back if you wanted to. But the way his eyes locked onto yours, the way his touch lingered now a little longer, a little rougher, said he wasn’t going anywhere unless you wanted him to.

Instead of answering, you shifted, turning around to straddle his hips, tugging your skirt higher in the process so you could sit comfortably on his lap.

“Always,” you muttered, your voice a breathy promise before closing the gap between you. You pressed your lips to his with fervour, cutting off the teasing words he was no doubt ready to deliver, swallowing them whole.

 Namjoon’s hands quickly went to your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, and you giggled when he squeezed at your flesh, then shifted like he sensed something unusual.

“What are you wearing?” Namjoon murmured against your mouth, his breath warm and pleasant. The low timbre of his voice made you giggle, the vibration of your laughter mingling with the tickle of his breath.

“Spandex,” you replied with a grin. “How do you think my butt looks so good in this skirt?” With a playful movement, you lifted the hem of your skirt just enough to show him. The spandex hugged your curves perfectly, a sly smirk plastered on your face.

Namjoon chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the spandex before his hand returned to its frisky grip on your ass. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, as if memorizing every curve.

“Sexy,” he concluded. His other hand grabbing the edge of your shorts and letting it slap against your skin; the gesture drawing another burst of giggles from you.

“The sexiest,” you replied, your laughter dissolving into a grin as you shook your head. With an easy motion, you dropped your head onto his shoulder, muffling your laughter against his shirt.

It was ridiculous, you knew that—the whole moment—but there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart swell. Like he found you beautiful even in the silliness, even in spandex.

You remained like that for a moment, enveloped in the comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. His hands continued their gentle kneading of your flesh, and you shifted your hips, pressing closer, feeling his hardness through your clothes.

Namjoon let out a soft huff, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes, an impish glint in your own. With a wicked smile, you began moving your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding against him, enjoying the way he hardens beneath you. His hands tightened, pulling you closer, a soft moan escaping his lips as he let his head fall back against the couch.

“Ah, babe-” His voice was strained, thick with desire, the heat between you intensifying, his hips buckling up slightly.

Your hands wander up his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath his shirt. You can feel his heart racing, matching your own as you lose yourself in the rhythm you’d set. With a bit of fumbling, you managed to unbutton his shirt, watching as he shivered under the touch of your cold fingers as you chart his toned muscles.

“Fuck. Kiss me please,” he breathed out, his voice rough and needy.

Your mouth hovered just few inches away from his, the warmth of his wrapping around you like a cocoon. Close enough to count the moles and freckles that dotted his skin, to take in the slight stubble along his jaw. His breath mingled with yours, teasing your lips.

 Your gaze flickered down, lingering on his mouth for just a moment longer.

And then, you didn’t hesitate. Leaning in, your lips find his in a fervent kiss. His mouth moved with yours, tongues tangling as you explored him, your hands roaming the expanse of his now exposed chest. The kiss was all-consuming, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you since he stepped into your classroom earlier today.

Namjoon's hands are not idle either. They roam up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, making you shiver. You can feel his arousal pressing against your core, and you grind against him, eliciting a low moan from him.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands squeezing your thighs. “I want you so bad.”

His words send another wave of heat through you, and you deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You can feel the tension building between you, your own arousal growing with every passing moment.

With a reluctant movement, you pull away to stand up, your skirt falling back down to your thighs as you stare down at him. Namjoon looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as you slowly, deliberately, begin to undress for him.

Pulling your button down over your head, you let it fall at his feet, watching the way his eyes barely flicker to it. Instead, Namjoon watches you, his breath quickening as you reveal more and more of your body to him.

You slip out of your skirt, tossing it aside as you stand before him in nothing but your spandex shorts and a lacy bra. His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your body with a hungry gaze.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing, watching you kneel between his legs on the floor, your hands quickly moving to his belt to unbuckle it.

You take your time with it, savouring the way his breath hitches as you brush your fingers against his hardness. Once the belt is undone, you unbutton his pants and pull them down, taking his boxers with them. Namjoon lifts his hips to help, his gaze never leaving yours.

Now that he's fully exposed, you can't help but admire him; He's always been handsome, but in this moment, with desire burning in his eyes and his body tense with need, his unbuttoned shirt still clinging to his shoulders, he was downright irresistible.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock, hard and ready, resting against his stomach, and he hisses in a deep breath, melting under your touch.

“Fuck.” His head falls back against the couch pillows, breaking eye contact once you wrap your lips against his him, running your tongue over his leaking tip, swirling it and dipping it into the slit, enjoying the lewd sounds that escaped from his chest without abandon.

Emboldened, you keep taking him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and finding a steady rhythm that has him unravelling quickly. Your tongue rolling over his head every time you come back up.

Your hand starts working the part you can’t reach mirroring the rhythm you've set with your mouth, unleashing a flood of moans from him.

Namjoon’s hips buck, accidentally bumping the back of your throat, making you gag, and a quick, weak apology falls from his lips, although you feel like he doesn’t truly mean it, because he does it again right after.

 But you barely care, because his taut stomach clenches, showcasing his pretty abs, and the long, low sound he makes sends a new wave of wetness between your legs, urging you on. You were the one making him weak. You were pleasuring him in such a way that made him lose himself.

“Just like that, love.” He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, not tugging at it, but guiding your movements, fucking your mouth. You keep up with him, your lips now redden, tongue rolling on the underside, and your chin covered in spit as you bob faster.

The room is filled with the wet vulgar sounds your mouth makes and his low groans, the air thick with desire and anticipation.

“Fuck. Babe, stop.” He whimpers, tugging at your hair. “I’m close. Don’t want to cum-”

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls you away, holding you just out of reach as his head falls back against the couch, a long miserable “Fuuuuuck,” filling the space between you, as if he’d just received the worst news ever.

You blink up at him, your mind scrambling to understand his sudden outburst. His gaze meets yours again, and the regret swimming in his eyes deepens your confusion.

“Fuck. I knew I forgot something.” He groaned, voice thick with frustration, his fingers releasing their hold on your hair.

Your hand stilled mid-movement, your head tilting slightly as you tried to make sense of his words.

“You… can’t get blowjobs?” you asked cautiously, your knees wobbling as you stood up, bracing yourself against his legs for stability.

“What? No,” he blurted, his brows furrowing in indignation. “I forgot to go to the store. We’re out of condoms.”

Namjoon looked utterly defeated, his hands reaching out instinctively to steady you. Yet, there was something almost comical in the way his lips formed the smallest of pouts.

You bit down hard on the wicked grin threatening to spread across your face. He was adorable—even now, red hard cock pulsing against his chiselled thighs, neck flushed red, chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind raced. Likely scolding himself for forgetting something so crucial.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, and again, you bury your face into his shoulder, leaning into him to press a kiss against his neck, drawing his gaze back to you. His thumbs began rubbing slow circles against your hips, grounding both of you as you whispered softly into his ear, “We could always go without.”

Namjoon froze. The suggestion sent a visible shiver through him, and his eyes widening slightly.

 For a moment, the room was silent save for the soft hum of the heater in the background, the suggestion hanging in the air between you like a loaded secret. His hands, still resting on your hips, tightened slightly as he stared at you, trying to gauge how serious you were—or how far he could let himself go without losing control.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out broken despite his best efforts, and you lean back to look at his face, your hands holding onto his shoulders.

“It would make a nice Christmas gift.” You admit, almost bashful, but maintaining eye contact.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The playful tension had melted away, replaced by something heavier, more profound.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course, not” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “I want that too. I want a family with you.”

His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of you.

Namjoon let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes closing as if to let your words sink in fully. When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart feel like it might burst.

“I really fucking love you.” He murmured, his hands settling more firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you.

Your lips quirked into a small smile, your hands moving to cradle his face. “You better,” you whispered back. “I’m your wife, after all.”

Without warning, his arms tightened around you, and in one smooth motion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders for balance.

“Namjoon!”

But he only laughed at your reaction, the sound of it lighting up his features as he carried you down the hallway with ease. His fingers pressed gently into your skin, steadying you, and even despite your mock annoyance, your heart still fluttered at the way he held you—like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Don’t think being my wife means you can get away with teasing me like that,” he murmured. His steps were steady, purposeful, the warm glow of the bedroom lights spilling out into the hallway as he nudged the door open with his foot.

You grinned, brushing a soft kiss against his jaw. “Actually, I think it means exactly that.”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk as he laid you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering as if reluctant to let you go, while your legs remained wrapped around his hips, his hard cock pressing against your thigh. His gaze roamed over you, warm and full of affection, but the spark of desire in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, bracing himself with one arm while the other trailed down your side, sending a delicious shiver through you.

“You love it,” you replied, your tone just as playful as you tugged him closer.

Namjoon hummed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, every touch and movement making you feel lighter, like you were floating.

His soft lips were moving yours and controlling the kiss, and you melted in his arms, letting him do anything he wanted. He pushed your lips open, and you willingly allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, moaning against him when he hooked it around your lip to softly bite on it.

His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savouring every second of the connection between you two. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders to push away his shirt, letting it fall off somewhere, and in response, Namjoon pressed against you further, pushing you into the mattress.

You can feel the weight of his body on you, every inch of him pressed against your curves, and you revel in the sensation, though it does very little to soothe the burning ache spreading through you. You try to arch your back, try to make your hips meet, desperate to feel more of him, but Namjoon keeps you pinned down. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you're lightheaded from the kiss, each one of his lingering touches drawing you deeper.

His hands move with purpose, gliding down your arm and leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. Each touch feels purposeful, yet it only strokes the fire within you, the tension between you building with every measured caress.

Namjoon shifts, his lips abandoning yours to travel along your jaw and neck. Soft and warm, they graze your skin, leaving a searing path of heat that makes your breath hitch with every press of his mouth.

The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his breath on your neck made your head spin, the room narrowing to just the two of you.

 You gasp when he nips at your neck, his lips a welcome contrast to the sting of his teeth. His hips rock against yours, and you moan at the feeling, even if it's just his length pressing against you, but at this point, you’d take anything to ease the lustful haze that clouded your mind.

“Joonie,” you whimper squeezing your thighs around his hips, “Please.”

You fought to keep your breathing steady, but it was a losing battle.

 “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft like caramel, dripping with longing, his hands still caressing the sides of your body, stopping over your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra.

You mewl, arching instinctively towards his touch. “Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice hushed, sounding so needy that you barely recognise it as your own.

His eyes shift to your face for a quick second, a big teasing smirk tugging on his lips.

“Mmm, I will.” He replies casually, before pinching your nipples through your bra. A little whimper falls from your lips as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you.

He tugs your bra down, letting your tits spill out, and with an almost primal movement, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continues to tease and pinch the other one. You gasp, throwing your head back, letting out soft moans as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pulling him closer.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breaths against your chest, goosebumps erupting across your skin, before switching his attention to your other nipple.

You look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire. His hands slide down your body and you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your spandex shorts, tugging them down your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable before him.

He lifts his head from your breast, his lips red and slightly swollen, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. You feel a flicker of shyness wash over you, an instinctive reaction under his steady, adoring eyes. It isn’t that Namjoon ever made you feel uncomfortable—far from it. If anything, he had taught you more about how to love yourself than anyone else ever had.

But still, those small insecurities lingered, faint whispers at the back of your mind. The little things only you noticed, the things you thought didn’t measure up. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze, the way his touch seemed to erase every doubt and hesitation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but brimming with conviction, like he couldn’t hold the words back even if he tried. His eyes traced every curve and detail, lingering as if memorizing you all over again. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, the words tinged with awe before he leaned down to place slow, deliberate kisses along your ribs.

A shaky moan slipped from your lips, a sound of your clear frustration as his seemingly endless patience began to test your resolve. He chuckled softly against your hip, the vibration of it sending a wave of heat through you.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, your voice teetering on a plea, your fingers threading through his hair to tug gently.

His lips paused their trail, his gaze lifting to meet yours, mischief and adoration mingling in his dark eyes. “What is it, love?”

“Stop teasing,” you demanded, your tone shaky but resolute. “I swear to god-” but before you could finish your threat, Namjoon’s fingers swipe across your pussy, rendering you absolutely speechless.

“Holy fucking shit.” Namjoon breathed, the disbelief in his voice almost comical as his wide eyes flickered from your face to your cunt. “You’re dripping wet.” His fingers parted your lips, pulling them apart so he could see better. “Is the idea of me knocking you up turning you on this much?” His other hand joined in, both of them exploring your wetness, spreading it around. “Fuck.” He muttered, his fingers positioning at your entrance, sliding in and out of you easily.

You couldn't help but moan, your back arching as you pressed yourself into his touch. “Namjoon,” you sob, your voice filled with longing. “Please, just fuck me.”

“I will. I will,” he mumbles, moving lower to settle between your legs, spreading your thighs further apart, “After I get a taste.” He tacks on, quite proud of himself.

You couldn’t help but huff in frustration and desire as you felt his breath against your slick folds, ready to complain. But before you could get the words out, Namjoon quickly shuts you up, his mouth on you.

“Be good.” He warns, his tone firm but gentle, voice muffled against your pussy. As the words left his lips, his tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance all the way to your clit and then back down, causing you to shiver in pleasure. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open for him as he explored every inch of you, his fingers moving in tandem with his lips.

“Joon,” you whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to control the rhythm, your hips trashing against his face. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of heat through you, but his patience never wavered, even as your breaths became shorter and your whimpers turned into moans.

He slurped loudly, pressing his face in hard as he moved his lips and tongue expertly. You couldn’t help throwing your head back and moaning, the movement completely involuntary to you. His head moved around as he devoured you like a starving man, moaning to himself as he worked, his tongue lapping at your wetness, before coming back up to your clit and sucking hard, driving you crazy with the way his fingers moved and arched against your sweet spot.

“Namjoon!” Your eyes closed and you bit your lip, trying to muffle your moans, feeling the way his tongue swirled around your opening and licked up your wetness like he was savouring every drop of you.

He was worshipping you, consuming you like he’d been starving for you, growling whenever you pulled his hair too hard or moaned for him in a way he liked. Your back arched and you let yourself close your eyes, unable to stop yourself as your loud moans turned into gibberish, raising in pitch as he brought you right up to the edge.

His name was falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips bucking, thighs trembling and stomach clenched. You felt like you were about to explode, but he didn’t let up, not until you were unravelling against his touch. Your orgasm was so sudden, so violent and unexpected that you didn’t even get a chance to warn him, wave after wave of staggering pleasure washing over you, rendering you an absolute useless mess in his grasp.

 Namjoon didn't miss a beat, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came hard around him. Your muscles quivered and pulsed, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through you and adding to the intense pleasure crashing through your veins. And he didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your body, his fingers pushing your release in his mouth.

As you slowly came down from your high, Namjoon gently kissed your inner thighs, his lips warm and soft against your sensitive skin. You could feel his proud smile against you, and you couldn't even find the energy to glare at him.

It wasn't until your breaths evened out and your body went limp that you finally managed to push him away, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips when he looked up at you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked, his voice twinged with amusement, although a little breathless.

You couldn't be bothered to reply, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you managed a small, satisfied smile, your eyes closed in contentment.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against your hip. At that you chuckled, the sound light and airless, the remnants of pleasure still humming through your body like an electric current.

Namjoon began a slow ascend, pressing soft kisses against your skin as he went, each one making your breath hitch just a little more. When he finally reached your lips, his gaze was heavy with intent. He kissed you deeply, and the moment you tasted yourself on his tongue, a wave of heat crashed over you.

Your lips parted instinctively, drawing his tongue deeper as you sucked on it, the sensation unravelling something primal in your mind. A soft, desperate moan escaped against his mouth, your hands fisting into his hair as you clung to him, utterly consumed by him, by his mouth, by his hands against your hips. By Namjoon. Your husband.

“Ready for me to fuck you now, my love?” he asked, his voice low, a whisper against your lips, but one that sent a new wave of wetness to your core.

 You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence, so your let your hand drop to hips and pull him closer, eager for him to take you.

You could feel his hard cock press against your entrance, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to glance down and watch as he positioned himself at your opening. A low moan falling from your lips as you waited for him to thrust inside you.

But instead, Namjoon teases you further, swiping his cock against your wet folds, driving you wild.

“C’mon love, don’t leave me hanging. Say something.” He chuckles, watching your expression carefully as he pushes the head of his cock against your clit, circling it.

That completely makes you snap, a flurry of uncoherent begging and threatening falling from your lips, filling the little space between your heavy breathing and his low chuckles.

“Please, please, please Namjoonie. Fuck me. Get me pregnant. God! Move! You always do this,” your head falls back against the pillow, tears prickling at the inside of your eyes, your fingernails digging in his skin. “Knock me up, please. Just fuck me. I’ll delete your homework gradings if you don’t.”

He bets you have almost no idea what you were spewing, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Not when his heart swelled with love and desire at your words. He couldn’t resist you any longer. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you just for a second longer, before he finally pushes inside, agonizingly slow.

You gasp, your body trembling in his arms, feeling him fill you all the way to the brim. The feeling of him bare inside you, the warmth and the intimacy of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein. You feel every movement and every thrust as if it's the first time all over again. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that you can't help but let out a series of weak, trembling moans every time he moves inside you.

“Holy fucking shit, you feel so fucking good.” Namjoon whimpered, his hips slapping against you, pulling almost all the way out before filling you up again, “Fuck, you're so tight. I can feel every inch of you, gripping me, love.”

The sound of your skin slapping fills the bedroom with his steady thrusts, punctuated by the occasional slap of his balls against your ass. You gasp, your orgasm building deep inside you. You can feel it coiling in your belly, ready to explode at any moment.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” you moan, your hips moving in time with his.

“Shit love, look at that.” Namjoon presses a hand hard against your lower stomach, “Can you feel it?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. “Can you feel how deep I'm inside you, how close I am to filling you up?”

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, and you nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt his hand press against your stomach. His cock, so deep  and snug in you that you can feel the bulge faintly against your abdomen as he moved.

You nodded frantically, your eyes wide as you felt him pulse inside you. The thought of him coming inside you, of him potentially getting you pregnant, only served to heighten your pleasure. You were so close, so unbearably close to the edge, and with each thrust, you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to the brink.

“Yes, yes, I can feel it,” you gasped, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Please, Namjoon, please fill me up. I want to feel you cum inside me, fill me up, I want to carry your baby.”

Namjoon's thrusts grew more desperate, spurred on by your pleas, more urgent as he chased his release, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t think possible.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Don't stop,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Don't you dare stop!”

But of course, ever the contrarian, Namjoon pulls out, making you scream in frustration. An elongated, miserable “Nooo,” falling from your lips, your body going limp, “God! Namjoon! I swear-” but he ignores you, flipping you over on your stomach.

You still angle your hips up in invitation, although angrily, your body trembling with anticipation and frustration. You’ve known your husband long enough to know how he liked to play, and how to play his games. You plant your knees on the mattress, lifting your ass higher in the air as your chest falls against the pillows, slowly swaying your hips for him.

 Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Watching you offer yourself to him so willingly, so eagerly. He can’t resist your lure much longer. He positions himself behind you, his fingers tracing a path down your spine before grasping your hips firmly. You feel the head of his cock against your entrance once more, and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips, as again, he swipes it against your clit before sinking into you.

This new position allows him to reach deeper somehow, and you can feel him hitting your sweet spot with every movement. Your fingers clench the sheets as he starts to thrust harder, his hips meeting your ass with a satisfying slap, and you push back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, your pleasure mounting right back up, bringing you closer to the edge.

 Sweat starts to collect at your hairline, your breath hitching with each of his powerful thrusts.

“That's it, love. Take all of me,” Namjoon growls, his lips finding your neck as he continues to fuck into you. His hand snakes around to find your clit, and he starts rubbing slow circles around it, making your knees buckle under your own weight.

Your body trembles as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode at any moment, with any one of his thrusts that hits right against your g-spot.

“Namjoon, I'm so close,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets like a lifeline.

“I know, love. I can feel it. Let go, let me feel you come undone for me,” he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with need, his fingers flicking your clit softly, completely stealing the breath from your lungs. “Let me feel you clench around my cock baby.”

His words are your undoing. You cry out, dissolving into pleasure, everything around you cutting to white noise. Your elbows give way, and you collapse onto the mattress, completely boneless as he coaxes wave after wave of bliss from your trembling body.

His hands fly to your hips, holding you up for him as his thrusts grow more erratic, dragging out your orgasm and making you clench so hard against him that his movements stutters. You felt utterly weightless, as though your body had melted into the sheets, as if you had no strength left to hold yourself together.

“I’m so close,” Namjoon moaned your name, his sounds growing lounder and more uninhibited, as he relentlessly chased his own climax.

“Cum inside me,” you beg, egging him on. “Fill me up with your seed. Make a baby with me.”

His movements falter, his most base instincts taking over, and with one final, powerful thrust, he releases. Filling you up with his hot, sticky cum, you can feel it, coating your insides and leaking out. You clench around him, another orgasm, less intense but just as blissful as the first one washes over you.

The feeling of him coming inside you, the warmth and the intensity of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel your heart racing, your entire body trembling with the aftershock. You can feel him still inside you, pulsing to the rhythm of his own release, and the sensation of it is just overwhelming.

“Fuck, love,” Namjoon whispers, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. “That was...incredible.”

You can only nod in agreement, your breathing still heavy and uneven. You can feel him softening inside you, but you don't want him to pull out. You want to stay like this forever, connected in the most intimate way possible, his full body weight on you.

But eventually, he does pull out, rolling onto his back beside you and you snuggle up against him, your head resting on his chest as you catch your breath. You can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, broken only by your breathing, a soft, tired chuckle escaped your lips. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You have a breeding kink.” You state with a sly grin, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Namjoon huffs, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he mutters, “Maybe.”

“Good,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Means you’ll enjoy these next few months.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair as his gaze locks onto you, full of equal parts amusement and surrender.

“Fuck. You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

[rathayibacter]

Ok so how does one MAKE a tabletop game because this is something I want to try!! Are there good references out there for non-d20 systems or how to balance mechanics yourself?

oooh, hell yeah! honestly the big thing is to just do it, unlike board and video games the gap between idea and execution in ttrpgs is incredibly narrow, so if youve got an idea just start writing stuff down and see where it starts pulling you, where it feels like something's missing, find what excites you and what you feel isn't working. but that's not very specific, so let's get into it!

first off, read games! read weird games! there's tons of free ttrpgs on itch, lots of people sharing their work here and on other social media, there's 200 word rpgs here and here, and lots of system reference documents written specifically for people looking to hack games. reading other games is a great way to enrich your work whether you're building systems from scratch or working in an existing framework, because every game you read will show you a new way of approaching design problems.

on that note, draw inspiration outside of ttrpgs too! i pull a lot from video, board, and card games in my work, as well as poetry, novels, movies, etc etc etc. im autistic, and ive spent a lot of my life thinking about and dissecting unwritten social rules, so that's another big source of material for me. take your passions, whatever they may be, and put them in your work!

next up, think about the core of your game, sometimes called the minimum viable product. this is whatever the fundamental idea at the heart of your work is, and it's important to keep in mind because it keeps you from spiraling down unnecessary tangents. the core of your game can change, don't get me wrong! in fact, it likely will. what you want to do isn't prevent your work from growing and changing, but have a point of light you can always refer back to and ask "is what im doing important to this game?" you might be surprised by what you find isn't actually as important as you thought at first, and what turns out to be vital to the experience you're going for.

next up, once you start working, don't throw things away. if youre working in a word processor or google docs, it can help to have a section at the bottom of your document that you copy anything youd otherwise delete into. i do the same with my Affinity documents, ill have a few pages i dont export to store all my scraps. i know other folks who keep a dedicated scraps document that they use across projects. whatever works for you! the reason you do this is twofold: it makes it easier to cut things if you know you can always put it back later if you change your mind, and it gives you a lot of raw material that you can pull from in the future. months or years from now, you might find yourself looking to fill a gap in a new design and realize that some cool toy you set aside is exactly what you were looking for.

lastly, i wanna strongly encourage you to practice finishing things. that's often the hardest part for people, cuz we have a lot more experience starting projects than finishing them. here id like to once again direct you to 200 word rpgs, because that strict limit means you wind up with a finished first draft really quickly, and the rest of it is polishing and editing. once you've finished some bite-sized projects, you'll have a better idea of what it entails, what parts you're good at and what parts you struggle with, when to keep working and when to cut yourself off. i find it really helpful to add arbitrary limitations and deadlines on my work because that helps me push myself to finish something when otherwise i'd just keep adding and tweaking, but you'll find what works best for you!

[mischiefmaker615]

Hiii! You popped up on my home page again and I was once again choking on your wonderful writing. I have a thing for your Musical Mischief series!

I Caught Myself -Paramore.

I totally get it if this doesn't bring any inspiration, but if it does, I'd love to read it! Much love.<3

I Caught Myself

Summary: When Loki finds his "babysitter" asleep, does he dare take that risk of freedom?

Rating: PG14

Requester: @nervouseden

Inspiration Request: "I Caught Myself" by Paramore

Note: NGL this one was a bit tricky to think of a plot *sweats* hope it will do..

Loki's POV

The only sound that could be heard was from the soft steps I made down yet another hall in search of Y/N. Those heroes have departed for the day and yet the tower has been left unnaturally quiet. I wouldn’t so much as trouble myself if danger was to happen in their absence but the very creature I do so happen to favor- and quite frankly wouldn’t want to see harmed- is nowhere to be found.

Calling her name would show me as desperate, weak, wanting in the fact that I seek out a mortal’s presence. Ohh but she is no mere mortal..

I often think about how different she is when time grants itself to my mind. Her fragrance lingers in the senses where It almost caresses and beckons. Her hair sways practically in time with her hips while she walks. Her dainty hands fidgets with things when she is deep thinking or trying to distract herself. She does that a lot when she finds me watching her..

Her uncomfortableness often amuses me; it’s hardly disgust, her cheeks redden to much for it to be anything negative to my stares. From her body language, she’s often shown me how much affect I have on her and all I merely do is just watch her. I don’t often catch myself doing it, she almost seems to have this way of grabbing my attention without myself even realizing it first.

She’s the only one I give a word to, actually hold my tongue and offer a series of replies whenever she finds herself wishing to speak with me. Why? Unlike the others, I have found no sign of her holding any fear or anger towards me. I’ve had to question myself if my abilities to read others have diminished but with her conversations and approaches seeming.. heartfelt, my body normally relaxes when she’s brought herself to my presence.

I gave no argument when the Iron Idiot had presented the idea of her being the one to keep an eye on me. Even now with that thought, I couldn’t help but smirk with the idea that they think I need a babysitter. I’ve been here to many months to count and they still can’t find themselves to let go with the idea that as soon as I step foot outside, the world would burn once again.

The thought has crossed my mind often but somehow it often drifts back to Y/N.. the mere thought of her injured causes a tight pain within my chest. I wouldn’t even be willing to take the risk of world domination again with the fact that collateral must always be taken in account.

She would be a risk.

Leaving rather than ruling would be more like it.

I have entered the main room to which one would see first if they came to this domain and I almost gave up finding her if it hadn’t been for the soft sound of breathing and that glorious scent catching my attention. Slowing my steps even more, I approach the back of the couch where a book lays open upon the table and the sleeping form of Y/N is spread out amongst me.

My eyes didn’t hesitate to drop at her form; an arm is raised above her head while the other is draped over her waist. She is laying on her side, still in her day clothes which immediately told me she must have fallen asleep. The sight was quite.. alluring, if I am to be honest with myself. If we were in a perfect world, I would have probably gathered her in my arms and finally got a taste of those lushes lips my eyes so often drift too.

But I couldn’t risk not having her feelings reciprocated.. although humans are incredibly easy to read, she was very much a difficult one to figure out. it’s probably why I favor her presence so much. She is not bland, nor boring. It’s quite the thrill when I am presenting with a fact about her I hadn’t quite beat her to figuring out. even now my eyes move forward to find the book on the table and I smile to myself.

She is almost half way through and was one I’ve let her borrow back in a previous conversation I quite enjoyed. I don’t often find others enjoying books as much as I do, let alone a human- with its technology replacing paper every day.

She’s different.. she has full control of my body without my mind being able to convince it otherwise.

My hands have been gripping the back of the couch for awhile now, blood rushing back to my fingers when I remove one to slowly drift down to her sleeping form. It shouldn’t have lingered as long as it did, but I relished in the feeling of her beautiful hair brushing against my skin while I return a lock back behind her ear. Her skin looks so soft and smooth and my finger tips tingle with the growing urge and idea of feeling her more.

Turning my back to her helped my growing evidence of what she truly does to me, my eyes eventually resting upon to elevator that was merely just a few feet away.

How easy it could be..

How easy it could be to just take advantage with the heroes gone, my dear babysitter asleep and I merely free to walk out those doors without so much of a sound or a hint. I could perhaps start a life somewhere.. under an identity though a simple spell I’d apply daily. No one would no, no one would find me, perhaps no one would eventually remember me once the hunt was given up.

My eyes slowly move over my shoulder, taking in the sight once more of her glorious form and with thoughts if she’d even miss me, or so much as think of me. Her eyes were always full of kindness, not once have I been able to detect a lie or trick. She was genuine.. how did she find herself to be amongst these mortal savages..

On Asgard, she would have been for certain courted, second glanced and snatched up within a second upon joining a festival. Id worry every waking second if she wasn’t at my side that I may be bested, stolen from, or perhaps she’d find someone better.. yet she’s never truly had me think of myself that way..

Around her, I feel more heard than I had in my entire childhood. Seen, more than I had when I had attended the court.. loved.. perhaps even if it were to be within a friendship..

If that is all she has to offer, than I am to accept it in abundance..

My eyes drifted back to the elevator. Freedom within just a few steps..

“I don’t know what I want..’’ my voice but whispered yet deep down in denial, I did know.

Which is why I found myself slowly walking around the couch, sitting myself in the spot she offered while her legs stayed bent yet comfortable. She rather seemed to enjoy curling herself when she was asleep, and I couldn’t help but smile before I was reminded perhaps she was cold and wasn’t prepared for the unexpected wave of exhaustion. Instinctually I conjured a blanket to wrap around her, the familiar green color having to be explained if she were to wake up and find it.

What would I tell her?

‘I found you asleep and thought you might be in need of a blanket?’ of course not.. I wish not for the image of going soft.. I then thought I may perhaps place her in her proper bed, but that would come with trouble in its own. ‘you entered my bedroom without permission’ she may say.. no.. Y/N has always been one to think positive..

“it’s the thought that counts at least’’ she often quoted and I couldn’t help but feel the smile tug at my lips again, my hand having been resting on her hip the entire time since I’ve sat down.

What was she doing to me.. her mere presence has me under some sort of spell of some sorts.. a few months ago I may have had this woman on her knees, now all she has me wanting is to be sinking onto my own..

I took the risk.

I felt myself leaning over her, my hand moving to curl at her hip and the other by her shoulder before my actions froze, watching how she slowly stirred and hummed in her sleep. Sweet thing.. what do you dream about.. with my body frozen as to not wake her, she then turned a little, the hand having been above her head coming now and merely rest upon mine beside her hip.

My breath hitched, her hands being as soft and gentle as I’ve imagined they would and my eyes closed to relish in the feeling alone. I could feel her fingers slightly gripped my wrist, almost as if her body was aware of the touch it was giving and my mind imagined her grip somewhere else.

I was not in a position to easily hide my physical reaction towards her without waking her up. I only prayed to the gods her light prodding that now ghosted her beautiful ass wouldn’t be enough to wake her up or stir anymore- before gods knew my control could be worn thin in mere seconds if I let it slip.

‘’gods Y/N.. what are you doing to me..’’ I breathed, trying to ignore my erection while I slowly leaned myself down, hovering over her so I could inhale slowly that scent I loved so much. ‘’I thought I didn’t know what I wanted... You're pushing and pulling me down to you.. making me think things I never should have thought.. what do you want?” I whisper, almost convincing myself I’d get an answer while her eyes remained shut and her lips parted ever so slightly.

‘’I want you Y/N..’’ I whisper, my eyes not even straining while they remained on her face. I knew the door to freedom was right there, but everything within myself told me this is where freedom was.. with her..

‘’whenever you may realize it, I’ll be here..’’ I promised, allowing myself to lean more, my body barely brushing against hers before I lightly brushed my lips against her soft cheek, everything in my power held me back from adding more pressure or moving them down to her awaiting lips before I allowed myself to sit back up.

Looking down at her hand that gripped mine, I slowly turned it enough so I could also place a kiss upon her knuckles, finding everything about her soft and sweet before I carefully placed her hand down and freed my own.

She is perfect.. and will be fine someday.. if I am to wait longer than I am to wait to gain freedom, so be it. I’d rather live a life of imprisonment if it meant she was to be promised to me than to walk out and find her gone too. Perhaps I am not so trapped here, one may think she was trapped here with me.

And by the gods all hell will break lose if someone dare take her away.

DM a song for your own Loki Musical Mischief one shot :D 

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing

[dixons-sunshine]

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the undead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have some semblance of peace in the aftermath. It had been a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from the ground up, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall and proud once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

The paragraph of my first ever work in the The Walking Dead writing community. The story that kick-started this blog into what it is today. in SICKNESS and in health, posted February 25th 2024. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime and no time at all has passed since then. It’s such a surreal feeling.

When I wrote that story, I definitely did not expect anything to come of it. I remember being on season seven at the time of writing that, and feeling my heart break with what happened to Daryl in the sanctuary. I wrote that little comfort fic for myself at first, just to feel better about the hurt that was season 7, but then I thought “hey. I might as well post it. I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it.” And that’s what I did. I posted it and exited Tumblr directly after, and did not touch it again for a whole day. And when I did…

I saw my notifications showing me a bright blue ‘99+’. And I had gained a whole 20 followers, putting my follower count at the time at 29. Seeing that made my heart burst with joy. I could not believe that people were actually enjoying what I wrote. Also, I remember scrolling through my notifications and stopping dead in my tracks when I saw that @angelwings-crossbowstrings, aka one of the people whose stories inspired me to try my hand at writing for Daryl in the first place, had not only liked it, but reblogged it and followed me. My poor mom got bombarded with “holy shit, this amazing writer just followed me!” messages that day. She had no idea what I was yapping about, but she was supportive.

After that, I tried it again. Wrote something, posted it, and it got notes. And then again. I wrote my first installment for my “Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU” as my third ever fic, which is still my most popular series to date. That fic also served as the gateway to people sending me their amazing ideas via requests.

And the hits just kept on coming after that. And I still can’t believe that I get to say that people like my writing. Take that, my third grade English teacher.

This year had its ups, and it definitely had its downs. Due to the fact that I was so excited to get this blog up and running, I pushed myself too hard a lot of times, and I have burnt myself out on more than one occasion. I told myself that if I didn’t pump out fics every day, people would be disappointed in me. I had set high expectations for myself, and I felt so bad when I couldn’t live up to them. However, through lots of reassurance and guidance, I realized that it was unhealthy for me, mentally speaking. I was pushing myself way too hard, and I needed to slow down if I wanted to keep the fun of writing alive for me.

This year, I also had a moment where I was scared. I found something that made me realize that my blog could have potentially been the next target for a known plagiarist, and it made me fearful. I pour my heart and soul into every story that I write, so having the safety that I associate with writing threatened was a terrifying thing. However, thanks to the vigilant creators behind the @fanfic-plagiarism-watchdog blog, my worries were settled. (Although I still keep my eyes peeled for any suspicious activity on that other blog.)

Now, for the ups. Let’s get the negativity out of here. We’re ending this year with a bang.

I never celebrated this, but I reached 1k followers this year! It happened so quickly, I barely had time to register and think of how to celebrate it. At the time of posting this, I’m a little less than 70 followers away from 2k, and I just wanna say thank you to each and every one of you for deciding to stick around. Your love and support means the world to me.

I had a work of mine surpass 2000 notes! That number is still so surreal to me, oh my god.

Not something writing related, but I moved this year. It was definitely a good decision and I don’t regret it at all. It was hard moving everything from one house to the next, but in the end, it was definitely worth it.

I also met some amazing people because of this blog. I still can’t believe that I get to say that I know them on a somewhat personal level. @lazyneonrabbitt, @angelwings-crossbowstrings, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @dixondystopia, @dix0nvix3n, @deansapplepie, @snailss, @remnantsofsleep and @yevmarie.

And I can not forget about my girl @holdmytesseract. You’re one of my absolute favourite people ever and I love you. Keep being your awesome self, sweetheart.

And @thevegandarkelf. I still can’t believe that I get to talk to her on a daily basis. What started out with a comment about how our angels (our OCs, Vec and Georgie) would have been friends in an alternate universe spiraled into, if I may be so bold, a friendship. Taylor has become a huge part of my day-to-day life, and I honestly can’t believe that I get to just text you randomly throughout the day about anything at all. I love you.

I would also like to give the biggest of thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams. Her fic entitled “Plan A” was the first ever work of Daryl I read here on Tumblr, and she was one of my biggest inspirations to start writing after my long hiatus. So thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing, and I can’t wait to read more of what you put out.

Now, to finish this off, I thought I’d give my personal favourite fics I wrote this year:

Daryl Dixon:

Hazelnut—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Was It was Boogeyman?—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams—Young!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Needs To Be Perfect—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Crushes Are For School Girls—Daryl Dixon x Georgianna Hawkins (OC)

Scud Frohmeyer:

Look At Me—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Perfect End—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Performance—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Murphy MacManus:

Make A Move—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

The Safety—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Irish Man In A Closet—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this year. I love each and every one of you so much, and I can’t wait to embark into the new year with all of you.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and happy new year in advance!

[hoshinokaabi-secretsanta]

From: chesgray (Ao3)

To: @itsquakey (Tumblr2) (Instagram) (Artfol)

Message from Santa: "Hello! I am Gray! I write. And I am your gift-giver this holiday season! I actually like your AUs and characters quite a bit, so I was quite glad to get pointed at you for gift giving! Your list said spinning one's own interpretation of things was allowed, so I decided to write some Marstella, mixed with my own personal headcanon that Noddies are lucid dreamers for whom spending time in dreams is a normal thing they do. One thing led to another, and...

Well, this gift is the result. I hope it's an appropriate kind of angsty? I was very inspired by a couple of your pieces, especially the one where Marx in Soul form and Castella are having a heart-to-heart in the dark. You don't show much of them going through it from what I've seen, but I was really taken with the idea, and...I hope I wrote them somewhat correctly. I tried to follow your guide on Castella, the relationship charts...they're a really fun couple. I hope I did them right, at least a little.

And! I really hope you enjoy this. You've got some wonderful and inspiring characters. c: I had a lot of good choices for subject matter! I chose the silly couple. I hope you enjoy it!

Okay!!!! Happy Holidays!!!! Merry Christmas!!!! HO HO HO"

[fic-dumpster]

immiscible

Pairing: Cat hybrid!Sanzu x Hamster hybrid!Reader

Summary: You were not meant to be. Everything pointed to a disastrous outcome, but Haruchiyo Sanzu refused to let something as dumb as biology dictate his life. He wanted you and that was final.

CW: Hybrid AU, dubcon, PiV, oral (female receiving), mean Sanzu, possessiveness, typical cat behavior. Idk… lmk if I missed anything. Not edited and no beta.

Word count: 2.2K+

A.N: funny how this was inspired by Hamtaro and the pink panther. A very… unexpected crossover.

“Haru, stop bothering her!” Mikey’s voice boomed through the room for the third time.

You were hiding, again, under Mikey’s covers, attempting to stay as far away as possible from Sanzu who hadn’t been as welcoming as you were promised. You were told a good time awaited, but your current situation was not your definition of a good time.

Emma, Mikey’s sister and your owner, had to leave for a trip with her boyfriend and they left you under her brother’s care. You were against the idea, adamant about it. You cried and begged to be left alone or any other person available would do. But alas, nobody seemed to be able to besides Mikey.

Knowing the pink cat hybrid living under Mikey’s care was an ass, you knew It was a terrible idea. You were a rodent for crying out loud. A hamster hybrid. It was like trying to mix water and oil… an impossible task, and they expected you to share a living space with them for who knows how long.

Yes, you have been in Mikey’s place for less than four days and your life has been in danger more times than you can count.

Sanzu, the feline menace of this house, seemed to find joy in your little squeaks and chubby cheeks puffing even more every time he pawed at you; sending you back and forth to his entertainment. He was just doing that a second ago until you managed to escape and made a run for Mikey’s bed.

“Haru, let her go.” Mikey warned him with a stern voice, “she doesn’t like your games.”

Little did he know those weren’t just games for Sanzu. While you thought he wanted nothing more than to make a snack out of you, he had a whole other plan in mind.

Your small and round face peeked from under the covers and you instantly regretted your decision. Right there, looking straight at you with a wicked grin, was Sanzu. His green emerald eyes shined with mischief as he saw the scared look on your face.

“Ple-please, Haru… I-I do-don’t wanna play…” you stammered. Your heart beating wildly as you scurried deeper into the bed and away from the border where a crazed hybrid stood.

Have you ever tried to make a cat let go of his prey? Hardest thing to accomplish. Mikey knew that, but he also believed in his pet. Overall, Sanzu was harmless, according to Mikey. So when the only human in the room heard his pet hybrid promise to be civil. Well, Mikey believed him.

“I won’t do that again, I promise.”

To his credit, Sanzu didn’t chase you around anymore. There was no reason to run after something that was under his paw.

The first week passed by in a flash and you learned a few things. One of them was how Sanzu loved to see your attempts of scrambling away from him, whining every time he pulled your short puffy tail or yanked your whiskers. You saw the gratification on his face.

He would not leave you alone. So much so that he even gathered your things from the guest room and moved them to his. Mikey allowed such idea; believing in Sanzu’s excuse about hybrid bonding time or something.

Before bed, the cat hybrid would yank you against his warm body, wrap himself around you and nibble on your round ears; every time before bed it was the same, almost like a night routine. You would tremble under his arms, scared of becoming dinner if you made a wrong move.

Things got heated in the third week. Almost a month in and you had your fair share of questions about Sanzu’s behavior. He began to pin you down more often; growling and rubbing himself all over you. Grooming your neck and cheeks, for then to stay in that position for a while. Inhaling your scent and humming and purring in contempt.

Mikey just thought you two were finally getting along well and ignored whenever Sanzu dragged you into his room.

“Yeah, Emma. She’s doing fine. Haru is good company.” Mikey would always speak with reassuring words to his sister. Not lying, just telling his truth. “No need to take her to Takashi’s.”

As the phone conversation went on, in a different room your silent whines told a different story. The spiked tongue of Sanzu’s kept licking your skin, leaving it tender afterward.

“Heard that? You’re not going anywhere,” Sanzu rasped against your twitching ears.

The cat hybrid was ecstatic when he first heard the news from Mikey. You, the fragile little rodent, were going to stay with him? His prayers had been answered.

Sanzu couldn’t help himself, you were just too pretty for your own good. All shy and sweet with everyone else but him. You were a trembling mess whenever he prowled around you, his tail swiftly moving around your hips and legs got you squirming in place. He loved the special treatment you gave him.

The pink menace had begun to behave even weirder lately. Headbutts here and there, making biscuits on your tummy and chest which left you all hot and bothered, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. All smiles and hugs as your mind went from zero to a hundred in seconds. It all left you confused and dizzy at the end of the day.

For things to make sense something had to happen, right? Because such… affectionate behavior wasn’t normal. Well, a few days later when Mikey left to hang out with some friends; it did happen.

You heard a strange sound coming from Sanzu’s room. It was a very loud meowing, almost raw and it seemed painful; and as afraid of him as you were, you couldn’t just leave your only housemate alone if he was in pain.

With shaky steps, ears tuned in to the yowling, you made your way to his room. Stopping at the door, you saw your things still scattered around, but now a bunch of pillows and blankets also shared the space. As your eyes roamed through the room you finally spotted Sanzu. He was a sweating mess—pink hair sticking to his face, wild eyes unblinking and his face contorted in pain.

“Ha-haru? Are you ok—” But before you could say one more word, a strong scent invaded your nostrils.

It hit you with so much force that your eyes watered instantly. The smell was sweet; earthy and cinnamon-like but oh, so suffocating. You gagged and coughed at the burning sensation in your throat.

Suddenly, everything began to spin, but before your knees could hit the ground, you were swept off your feet. The sickly sweet smell surrounding you in waves—enveloping you whole. “S-stop! I ca-can’t brea-breath!”

“I knew you would come,” cooed Sanzu, completely ignoring your pleas.

He had you in his arms, carrying you towards the improvised nest made of blankets. Your body shivered, rejecting the aroma of a different hybrid. It was clear—compatibility? Null. Even your body’s biology refused to accept the idea of it.

Before you could gather your thoughts, you were being dropped on a soft surface and still, the potent scent kept mingling all your senses. Just as fast, he was on top of you; holding your hands above your head and leaning forward with his whole weight pressing down on you.

“You look so pretty… underneath me,” Sanzu sharply whispered against your temple. Nose caressing the border of your face as it traveled to your lips.

Nudging your legs apart with his knees, he nestled himself between them. Slowly but steadily grinding his hips against your clothed core. “You did this, you know? You made me go into heat, you little minx.”

“No! I didn’t know– didn’t mean to!” You whimpered—lips to lips, sharing the same air.

A whirlwind of thoughts passed through your mind. Guilt, fear, anger and… surprisingly lust. The more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body reacted. Your legs fastening around his waist, pulling Sanzu even closer which made the feline purr louder as your little squeaks mixed in between.

You felt the weight of his body—of his clothed cock constantly pressing on your entrance, humping, just rutting in place. Wetness had begun to creep in between your clothes

“We can’t do this, Ha-Haru…”

“You want me to stop?” Sanzu asked with clenched teeth but you shaked your head in denial, “Good, because I don’t think I would be able to…”

The feline eagerly pawed your clothes off, feeling a surge of giddiness born in his stomach. He was so close to you, he was finally touching every single part of you. Sanzu could practically taste the air charged with your arousal.

“You need me here,” he purred, lithe fingers dancing around your gushing entrance. “I’ll have a quick taste and you’re gonna be good and let me.”

Not soon had you felt his hands let go, ignoring his previous words, you tried to scramble away. On your hands and knees, you made a big mistake. Sanzu felt your cotton-like tail hit him in the face and it just made him latch onto you even harder. His hands grabbed your thighs, pulling you back and at the same time wrangling you back into your last position just to directly smash his face against your cunt.

A hollow scream erupted from your raw throat once you felt his tongue practically forcing its way in. His fingers digging into your skin, the force of his sucking lips and never had his tongue stopped moving inside you. You were ashamed to admit he felt too good, your bucking hips constantly hitting him but Sanzu didn't even notice. Too focused, too drunk on your hypnotic flavor.

A straight lick later and a moan of satisfaction from the pink feline had you in almost tears. “You were already wet enough, but I couldn't help myself. You’ve made me… a voracious beast.”

You felt his fingers open your lower lips, heat radiating from your center smearing his digits. You don't know when or how he discarded his own clothes but as your eyes refocused, you saw his skin almost glowing, radiating scorching warmth on top of you. Unhurriedly, Sanzu guided his cock inside, stretching your opening to mold him, to take him. You were so soft, so warm that it almost hurt with how sensitive his tip was.

“I promise to—fuck… aah— mount you properly next time,” he growled at the thought of having you—ass up squeaking for him again, “but I need to see your cute face right now.”

Sanzu hissed at the contact and gave a final push of his hips; entering you with force. In return, your face contorted at the intrusion, you were a squealing mess under him. The sudden action wasn’t as pleasant as the previous activity. Your insides burned as your walls tried to push the foreign object out. But Sanzu persisted, holding you in place as he slowly retracted and moved back in. Inch by inch of his cock with no hurry.

He repeated this action until he felt almost no restraint on your part. Your cute little cunt had finally gotten used to him. He went in and out smoothly and your sounds had changed to mewls and puffs of air—full of need. Your hands traveled from his chest to his shoulders, no longer trying to stop him. On the contrary, you were pulling him in, scraping his neck with a sudden need to have him closer.

The feline purred loudly as he absorbed the change in your demeanor. Your half-lidded eyes were calling to him. His words failed him, he couldn’t even tell you how good you felt. All that left his lips were groans and beastly sounds.

“Fa-faster, Haru!” You moaned out without shame. Gone was the timid little rodent.

His chest reverberated once again, an instant answer to your plea. His tail moving wildly behind him, his ear twitching at the sound of your voice. All his body automatically responded to your calling.

His hips hitting you with abandon. Your pussy lips are swollen from the constant friction.

“M-mine.” He heaved with furrowed brows; fingers gripping tightly at your soft and plush skin.

Sanzu wasn’t even sure he was speaking out loud, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of finally being buried deep in your heat. Nothing could take him away from you.

─────── · · ·

“Get your furry fiend away from her!” Emma was a red from rage, “Manjiro Sano! I am serious!

“He doesn't wanna let go!” Mikey looked over at his friend who was also Emma’s boyfriend for help, “Ken-Chin, tell her!”

Meanwhile, Sanzu with flattened ears and a swatting tail had you under his body; hissing menacingly at the three humans trying to take away his mate.

Of course, you had tried to explain but your meek voice wasn't heard in the middle of all the shouting.

[alexanderwales]

I keep having this idea for a trading card story, and it keeps not quite coming together for me.

I played Magic: the Gathering for a great many years, with Friday Night Magic being a staple of my adult life until I finally got pounded into the ground by netdecks one too many times.

I always felt like there was something there, a way to take Mark Rosewater's psychographics and build up a good cast of characters, a way to take the deck archetypes and have those decks express something about these people. What possesses a man to play only control decks? Why does this kid always bring tokens?

And of course the fundamental issue is that if you have a book that's about a card game, you've got to show the card game at some point, and no shade to Yu-Gi-Oh, but the anime was filled with overpowered cards and illegal moves, and did not have a healthy respect for the game in and of itself.

But if card battles are a way of resolving things within the narrative, you have to do brush strokes, right? Because a full game with all its complexities is just way too much, and even just sketching it out seems like it would be difficult. You'd confine yourself to just the highlights, the card games that matter, that have something to say about these characters, the ones that have some kind of stakes. But even then, I don't know, it does seem like a lot.

I think the dream would be to come to Wizards of the Coast with it, pitch it as "like The Breakfast Club but everyone playing MtG", five characters who are very different from each other and take their inspiration from the different parts of the color wheel. But there would be so many problems to work out, not least of which is setting it within a specific time and place where there's something to say about ... I don't know, collectible card games, what compels us to play them, how games can/do serve as expression of the self.

I haven't followed MtG for quite some time, though I still have a dozen EDH decks that see extremely infrequent use, so maybe this just wouldn't be workable in the modern climate of the game, which would require me to make up my own card game, which would lead to all kinds of other problems with how to structure the "action scenes" that are about the movements of game pieces.

This is one of those ideas that I will refer to as "gestating" because I pick it up every now and then, rotate it in my head, then set it back down, slightly better than it was before. But I think I like it only because I have a lot of unprocessed trauma from the time I traded away a Tarmogoyf without knowing its value.

[thebramblewood]

I was tagged by @retrotrait, @simvanie, @moonwoodhollow, @aheathen-conceivably annnnnnd @salemssimblr to post my top 24 screenshots from 2024, but I jumped the gun on posting a retrospective earlier this month.

I still wanted to do something, though, so I'm going to take some inspiration from @elderwisp and talk about my favorite story scenes of the year specifically - since there's nothing I love more than yapping and reminiscing.

Before I start rambling, I'll tag @living-undead, @esotericas-sims, @fallstaticexit, @simsdaughters, @biffybobs, @whyeverr, @kissalopa and @earthmoonz! I'm sure some of you have already done this (and no pressure if you don't want to), but I'd love to see you reflect on your year in whatever way suits you!

Good food and hard truths with Grace Anansi (one, two). I think this is quietly one of my favorite moments in the story so far because it revealed so much about Caleb's past that until this point had only been hinted at. It also gave him a friend and confidante, which he sorely needed. This was an extremely lengthy and exposition-heavy conversation, so it was challenging but rewarding to write, edit (endlessly), and execute in a compelling way. Plus, its final moments had to lead seamlessly into...

Party like a spellcaster (one, two). I think this was the first flashback in the story, so it was a pretty big deal! It was also the point where my ambitions started making scene preparation increasingly complicated. I spent a hell of a long time converting broomsticks and potions into pose accessories, but I was so pleased with how the vision came together, and it taught me a lot of skills that have become indispensable as my ideas grow more elaborate. Overall, it was a welcome moment of levity and joy for Caleb, even as we know tragedy looms in the future.

Lilith does a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing. Turns out once I started doing flashback scenes, I couldn't stop. You guys have no idea how it felt to sit on this particularly nasty secret for months. I wanted it to be a shocking reveal that fully established Lilith's villain status, but I also knew I would have to get her back into Helena's - and our - good graces eventually. It's been interesting to write a character like her who you love and hate at once. Ultimately, I want all of us to be on the same rollercoaster ride as Helena, equal parts repulsed and fascinated. This was especially wild to bring to life because it felt pretty surreal to be adding a whole new layer to this idea that originated years ago in my legacy!

Helena Zhao can't come to the phone right now. I was very proud of this scene because it was the first one where I made all the poses myself. It was also a major turning point in Helena and Julia's relationship, where their sisterly bond is deeply tested. I may have cried a little while writing and shooting it. I really enjoyed the brief moments we got to spend in Julia's perspective, and I hope to bring her back if the story calls for it. Although she was in extreme shock at what her sister had done, I imagine she'd eventually come around to having a bit more compassion for her situation. She'd probably be open to reconciling someday, presuming Helena ever sets foot in Copperdale again.

Reunited and it feels so... good? (one, two). I didn't even realize I posted Helena and Lilith's reunion on April Fool's! Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if they would ever cross paths again... and who are we kidding? Of course they would! I had a very good time writing this conversation and giving Helena a chance to finally get everything off her chest - though, of course, she couldn't help but be worn down by Lilith's manipulative charm in the end. And then Caleb got his comeuppance for keeping the truth of what happened a secret for so long, reminding us once again just how scary Lilith can be.

Plasma Pals! As dark as this story is, I enjoy weaving in moments of comedy and lightness when I can, so it was really fun to portray Caleb and Helena's evolving friendship through the lens of a cheesy sitcom. I wasn't sure it would hit with anyone other than me because the funniest things I write are usually accidental. It's hard to be funny on purpose! But it ended up being possibly my most popular story post ever, so obviously I did something right.

Lilith teaches Helena the true art of supernatural seduction. I wanted this section of the story to be all about the two very different approaches Lilith and Caleb take to teaching Helena. This was one of my most technically challenging scenes. I shot the entire attack sequence twice because I was underwhelmed the first time. But in the end I'm glad I took the time to do that because it contains some of my favorite screenshots ever and really conveys Helena's internal struggle. But will she be able to resist when it inevitably happens again?

The night where it all began, part one. I love this entire series of flashbacks, but I'm particularly fond of the opening because we finally get a glimpse into what Caleb and Lilith's relationship was like as humans. It turns out they liked each other! And only bickered in a light-hearted way! And conspired and giggled together! This was another scene where I made all the poses. It was exhausting, but these flashbacks to the Vatores' vampire origins were so important for me to get right. I'd been thinking about them for a long time, so I wanted them to be as perfect as possible.

How Caleb was transformed, one and two. Again with the flashbacks! I think part of the reason I like them so much is because, as much work as they are, they always offer a change of scenery that refreshes my creativity. This particular scene was one I was obsessing over for months, so I had cultivated a very specific vision of how it would play out and didn't want to compromise. I'm glad I had the foresight to start learning posing far enough in advance that I felt ready to take it on. If I had to choose, this is my single favorite scene of the year. Everything came together exactly how I wanted, and it gives me chills every time I revisit it.

A very vampiric dinner date, part two. This entire sequence took so much work to complete from beginning to end! But it was the first big outing beyond Forgotten Hollow in a while, and I wanted it to be special. I enjoyed being able to put a bunch of pre-mades into compromising positions with your guys' vampires. As much of a pain as it is to pose multiple Sims, the end results are always worth it. And then, of course, the sequence resolves in Helena and Lilith having a genuine moment of intimacy for the first time since Helena was turned, which had us all squealing.

Helena is horny and confused. Can you believe this is the only Ulrike appearance of the year? 😭 I'm really glad I managed to sneak one in. Even though they broke up before she was turned, Ulrike is the ultimate reminder of Helena's human life, of everything she left behind and of what could have been. Other than her family, Ulrike is who Helena misses most when she thinks about the past. This scene was pulled together quickly based on me finding the pose pack. I wasn't entirely sure if it would even work as part of the main narrative. But I feel like the spontaneity made it feel extra special, even if it is a smaller moment.

Forgotten Hollow 101. If anything, the theme of this year has been taking an increasingly long amount of time to finish every post. This is in part because I got busier in the second half of the year but also because I can't stop thinking up crazy complicated ideas. This one took me a month more or less. Even though each vampire only had one picture, it required a lot of effort to get them all in game, find poses, set up locations, etc.! But it was so important to me to do justice to your guys' vampires, so I was happy to take the time, even in the couple of moments where I began to feel burned out. I hope to keep showing off your lovely creations next year!

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[fandoms-in-law]

The Kid's Appreciation

Summary: After their 7th day of recieving gifts the Kids start hatching a plot to thank Steve. Their parents had better get on board cause these kids will love Steve into crying on Christmas

A Christmas Day Ending to this post of Steve giving the kids advent treats

~

It took a week of daily treats from the music box for them to start planning.

Of course the kids expected Steve to be there for them if hell opened up again, and to give them lifts and keep in touch if it didn’t, but the music box and the things he was filling it with were something none of them had predicted.

“We should do something for Steve!” Dustin exclaimed it when they met up with Lucas, Mike and Max at the arcade.

Max gave him a deadpan stare, replying, “Der, some of us have been thinking of gifts since he started this.”

“He doesn’t want stuff. He wants company.” He met her judgemental tone with his own, rolling his eyes and thinking before turning to them with an idea in his eyes.

Mike backed off a couple steps. “No, I know that look-”

“Lets have a Surprise Christmas Party for him!” Dustin declared.

“Lucas, you’re helping me convince Mum and Dad. I’ll help with yours.” Mike bargained immediately.

Lucas laughed but that cut off when Max huffed, “Mine will never go for it.”

“I can convince Mrs Mayfield.” Dustin nodded assuredly. “So Christmas Day, we get everyone together then call Steve to come join the fun.”

“It’s doubtful we’ll actually convince our parents to let us do this on Christmas and where are you planning this to be?” Lucas asked sceptically.

“Mom or Hopper might know. I could ask them.” Will offered, “And if they’re suggesting it the other parents might agree more easily.”

“Perfect, that’s enough to get started planning with. Talk to them in the next few days and then we’ll do more.” Dustin grinned.

~

“We want everyone to get together on Christmas Day.” Will said, watching his Mom and Hopper carefully as the words changed how dinner conversation had been going.

Joyce reacted first with a commiserating noise, “Honey, The other kids families want to spend time with them too, we can’t take them away from that.”

“But we’re family too. You’ve said it to most of them, Steve, Dustin.” He began listing, already thinking of which other arguments might convince them to actually arrange the gathering.

El nodded beside him, “You said that we’re all family now because we look after each other and saved each others lives. And you were talking about just adopting Max two nights ago.”

“Her mother is-” Hopper began to grumble but cut himself off, clearing his throat. “Sure kids, all of us are family but their families don’t understand that and they’ll argue that seeing their cousins or grandparents one of the few times they’ll visit in a year is more important than spending time with people who you see regularly.”

“And we’ve not got a big enough space to host everyone. Where would you want this party to be?” Jonathan added, looking around their home and dismissing the idea Hoppers cabin would work since that was smaller.

“We could use the fire pit?” Will suggested, but his expression already showed how he disliked the idea of sitting outside in December, even if there was a fire. “Or take it to Steve’s? But cook the food here, so he doesn’t feel like he has to host.”

Hopper narrowed his eyes, “Why wouldn’t you be asking Harrington to host already if you wanted to do that?”

Will fell silent, pushing food around his plate.

“Because we want to surprise him with it to thank him for everything he’s doing for us.” El replied plainly. “Eddie can fetch him if we find somewhere other than his home we can all go to.”

Hopper huffed, knowing that with El and Will wanting to do this they’d probably manage to, adults accepting or not. “I’ll ask around places that might let us have some space this week, but no promises. Now tell me what Harrington has been doing to inspire this?”

Will and El tripped over themselves to explain, including pulling out the gloves Steve had given them.

~

"Joyce invited us to a Christmas gathering." Nancy mentioned casually as they had a family dinner. "Mostly Mike and I but you can come too."

Ted looked over at her in interest, "You've not asked permission to go anywhere for a while. When is this gathering?"

Nancy halfway turned to Mike, not quite checking the details as she said, "Christmas day about 3pm."

"We've got to go, Dad. They're our family too after everything we've gone through together." Mike insisted before the frowns on their parents faces could become refusal or objections.

"Family isn't made by sneaking away from your actual family and cross country road trips. Christmas day is to be with us and possibly your girlfriend." Ted dictated. "Ask Joyce to do it a day later."

Nancy glared, "We want to gather with the people who kept us alive through the darkest moments of the year on Christmas. We shouldn't argue with the planning Joyce has already done. That's ungrateful."

~

"Sue, hi, how are you?" Mike hurried downstairs when he heard the greeting, spotting Erica and Lucas stood behind Mrs Sinclairs, strained smiles on their faces that tightened when they saw him. Clearly the Wheelers weren't the only ones resisting their plans.

"Hi Karen. I'm well but wanted to know if you were also being asked to give up your Family Christmas for the kids to see each other." Sue replied pleasantly.

"They aren't just friends. We're brothers basically. After everything that's happened in Hawkins, we want Christmas to be for all of us." Mike frustratedly explained.

"And it's for Steve! I tried telling ours, he's going to be alone! On Christmas! And we're his family, us and Joyce and hopper, Robin and Eddie, so we need to be there for him." Erica added, annoyed and making Mike think that should have been their argument from the start.

Karen looked at her shocked. "What do you mean he's alone? Isn't he going to meet his parents somewhere if they can't come here?"

"No!" All the kids protested immediately, Lucas adding, "They never visited him those weeks he was in hospital after the earthquake or even called. Do you really think they'd do something for Christmas if a town destroying earthquake gets no reaction?"

She looked thoughtful now, "And you're sure Joyce is right to arrange a big gathering instead of inviting him to holiday with them? We'd love to have Steve here even."

"That's not all his family though." Erica said, her tone calling their mothers dumb even if she wouldn't say it. "He's the one giving us things every day this month. Why can't we go to the Byers thing and give back to him on Christmas?"

Sue and Karen shared a look. "Okay, we'll think about it but this isn't an agreement yet." Sue said on a sigh.

The three kids shared victorious grins.

~

"Dustin, can you come here Sweetie?" Claudia called upstairs. He'd listened to her chatting at the door for a while and ran downstairs now.

He glanced into the living room expecting Joyce to have been invited in. "Yes?"

"I know you like our small Christmases together but Mrs Byers just invited us to a Christmas with them. Would you like that just as much?" She asked hopefully, clearly joyful at the idea of more people around to share the day with.

Dustin beamed at her, "That'd be fantastic! I hope Steve's there too. And Max. Do you know if she invited the Mayfields?"

"I'm not sure but I'll call and ask. If not then I'm sure she won't mind me doing so." she assured him.

~

"No I see my daughter little enough as it is." Mrs Mayfield shut down Joyce's invitation before she'd finished saying it.

Hopper huffed, "And whose fault is that?"

"Hope, we're making a friendly invitation for them both to come. Don't insult her." Joyce warned, smiling through gritted teeth.

He folded his arms, judging Max's mother still, "Just say there'll be alcohol and she'll come. Skip the frills."

At those words the door was slammed on the pair but an hour later Max called to confirm they'd come.

~

"Christmas for Steve is go!" Lucas declared through the radio. "But we should still try to get him something."

A moment later Max replied, "A best mum mug or something equally sappy would make him cry."

"Heartfelt and condescending, he'd definitely know it's from us." Will quipped, snickers following the words.

"No, we need to give him a lightsaber and dice, get him to play with us." Dustin protested.

"I think Robin would know what we should give him." El said, her voice clearer than the rest suggesting she'd used her powers to help it.

~

Steve answered the door in confusion. Nobody should be visiting on Christmas day, they never had before though he'd occasionally been invited before the day to join other families on Christmas.

Outside stood Robin and Eddie, grinning as he looked them over, "What are you doing here? You're meant to be with your families."

"Wayne will meet us there. Come on Stevie, didn't you get your invite?" Eddie coaxed.

Robin shook her head, "We're his invite. And apparently an invitation from Hopper is too important for me to refuse so I got sent on my way earlier. Get your shoes and coat and we'll head off."

"Invite to what? Why wouldn't they have invited me before now whoever is arranging this?" Steve eyed them, but did turn to get ready to leave after a moment.

"It's a surprise and because they wanted to surprise you." Robin cheerfully replied.

"The kids then. Fine, let's go." he headed to Eddie's van, never questioning if he could drive them there.

Eddie’s car radio was just as loud as he usually had it but the tape playing was Christmas tunes that got Steve to laugh and had them all singing along on their way.

~

When Eddie pulled up outside the school, Steve hesitated. He watched the building cautiously, eyes scanning over the doors to store rooms and the entrance to the main building until he smiled at something.

Just beneath the roof on the corner was a flickering fairy light that he headed towards, even as Robin and Eddie seemed to dig through their pockets for something he assumed would be their invitations. He didn’t mind, since the kids had left him directions already.

Following the string of lights, and ignoring the calls of Robin and Eddie behind him questioning where they were going, Steve saw a gift attached to the lights with a ribbon but not hanging from them. “Do you think I should gather these and wait until I’m with the kids to open them, or just open it now?” He asked, cutting off a complaint as Eddie realised the invitation didn’t say where in the school whatever was happening would be.

“Now,” Robin decided. “I want to see what they got you.”

Eddie made a disagreeing noise, “Ah ah ah, are we sure that this is for Steve? We could be following someone else’s string of fairy lights.”

“It says Steve and also, no we couldn’t be. Why would anyone else chose the school to have their Christmas at?” Judgement infused Steve’s voice as he replied, more focused on unwrapping the gift, smiling softly at the painted flowers and ‘World’s Best Mom’ caption on the mug when he saw it. “Such shitheads. I love them.” He muttered, turning to carry on following the lights.

He carried on following the lights, snickering when the chain ended and a card was balanced between the plug for that string of lights and the next. The card was filled with small messages from all the kids, as well as Joyce, Hopper, Wayne, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie, saying what they loved about Steve. With tears in his eyes he looked up to see the name missing from inside it.

“Where’s your message?” He teased, trying to pretend he wasn’t as moved as he was by the card.

Robin pulled a small card from her pocket, “Over here for after your kids have made you cry.”

“So thoughtful.” He laughed wetly. “Let’s see what else they’re giving.”

Around the next corner the lights went around Dustin was waiting, “Check point one reached.” He muttered into his radio before waving. “Steve! Open this now, pleeeaaaasssseee.”

“Hug first, shithead. You’re being too sweet when I wasn’t prepared.” Steve insisted, pulling him in before he could protest and causing the present to hit into his back.

“We love you, let us show it.” was mumbled into his chest just before Dustin pulled back, holding the gift out to him again.

Steve was still smiling as he unwrapped the gift, revealing two lightsabers and immediately keeping the green one while holding the blue one out to Dustin. “Dude, these would be so great for our handshake!”

As the pair went through their handshake Eddie draped a hand over Robin’s shoulder’s, “What is this and why haven’t I seen it before?”

“Their secret handshake. Dustin decided he was too old for it when he started high school but Steve says they still do it if it’s just them around. I guess having actual lightsabers overrules the too old thing.” She murmured back, smiling.

“Adorable.” Eddie smiled at the scene even more now. “Come on nerds, we’ve got a gathering quest to finish.” he called after Steve’s overdramatic death scene, laughing with them when Steve happily jumped up, neaten his hair and focused back on following the lights.

As they turned to carry on, Max came down the hall in the opposite direction. “Me and him are escorting you the rest of the way, Steve. The favourites get to babysit their babysitter tonight.”

“And you get a hug as well.” Steve agreed, tugging her in with only a grumbling groan in protest.

The hug was tight and carried on for enough moments that Dustin added himself to it, wrapping around both of them until Max pulled back.

She looked at Steve for a moment before tugging something red from her pocket. “You’ve got a party to attend, and a hat to wear, Santa.”

Steve only laughed and ducked down slightly so she could force it onto his head. “I guess I did do this to you. Is this one I got even?”

“Maybe, didn’t ask, I got an elf hat that day.” Max shrugged, taking one of Steve’s arms while Dustin took the other to keep them moving into the school gym.

Inside the gym was everyone, not yelling out ‘Surprise’ or turning all the attention on them immediately but separately waving or calling out greetings when breaks in their conversation naturally happened. Steve wanted to bask in it, or wander over to the other kids and join their chats, thank them for what they put towards this unexpected celebration, but the two on his arms led him over to the Christmas tree immediately.

“Now Santa Sweetheart, have you been good this year?” Eddie followed them, somehow getting a bright red long coat on in the time they’d walked across the gym and falling into his DM persona.

Steve laughed at the combination but nodded, “As good as I can be, even tried to save a few lives and convince others not to throw theirs away running into danger.” He replied, but wondered if he should have argued.

Eddie nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as if he was making a tough decision, “That does sound very good, but-”

“We’ve got evidence!” Robin interrupted, laughing and holding out her card. “Here, read this!”

Echoes of “And this” sprang up around the room and Steve didn’t notice who handed him a box of tissues as Eddie did indeed start reading out all the good or wonderful things his family thought he’d done that year, a lot of which he hadn’t thought about doing at all.

The kids ended up all gathered around him, all touching him in some way if they weren’t the lucky ones to have claimed his lap, which were Erica and El.

“We love Steve.” El said simply when Eddie fell silent, seemingly torn between going back into character or adding his own words.

He nodded at her words. “That we do, Supergirl, that we do. Steve Harrington is definitely on the good list this year and should get all the gifts he desires. However this is Hawkins and the funding just isn’t there apparently. Can I interest you in some awesome artwork and a dozen or more cards to fight any negative thoughts in your head?”

Through happy tears Steve nodded, reaching out for them. “Love you all too, thank you so much.”

“And the happiest Christmas we could put together for you too, Dingus.” Robin reached over to softly shake his shoulder, stood somewhere behind him and his kids.