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mortallydeepestobservation · 2 days ago

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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.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #glitter glue i love you

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floralscented · 3 days ago

Text

troubles in paradise — 90s!jensen x actress!reader (18+!!)

his hand is so tight over your mouth that his fingertips are white, the blunt edge of his short nails digging into the soft skin of your cheek. you're bent over the counter of his trailer's countertop, his free hand between your legs and holding your thighs open.

you'd already came twice. tears prickled in the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation of it all, but you're still just whipped enough to let him use you how he needs, exes or not.

"not so fuckin' mouthy now, are you?" he asks in your ear, words hissed through clenched teeth, the slapping sound that punctuates each of his thrusts as he buries himself in you the only noise in the small space. other than your muffled noises behind his palm, but you work to keep them down, knowing the louder you are, the tighter his hand gets. "not so bold?"

"mmm," you try, try to speak, but it only comes out as a shuddering throaty whine. "mmfuck you—"

his hand grasps your thigh tighter, forcing your hips back into each of his thrusts, deep enough to rock your hipbones into the edge of the counter, surely to bruise. just as bruised as you knew your cervix was becoming. "that's not very nice, sweetheart," he growls in your ear, his teeth clamping around the lobe, leaving a wet scrape as his mouth falls away from the biting kiss, "'ve been nothin' but kind to you... treatin' you better than you fuckin' deserve."

he's pissy. pissed that you had a kiss scene with another one of the actors on dark angel's set today, pissed that you did your job. he wasn't yours. you weren't his. not anymore, at least. but you kept him up at night, and his lingering stares made you crumble, even despite the disdain that you were convinced he felt toward you.

there was no guessing about it now. he was fucking you now like a punishment. "no, baby, i don't deserve that," he says to himself, his mouth dropping to your neck, sucking a maroon spot onto the untouched skin.

your eyes are fluttering into the back of your head, but all you can think about is how you are meant to explain this to your makeup artist in half an hour. his hand finally falls away from your mouth, though it doesn't go far. his fingertips are harsh when they snap your jaw to the side enough to look at him, to see his eyes.

half-lidded, glazed with the feelings he'd lost himself to, pupils blown into his irises. "i shouldn't care about you anymore," he whispers, leaning forward to drag your bottom lip back with him in the half-attempt at a kiss. "tell me why i do."

"i don't know," you whimper. the eye contact is... a lot. this no longer feels like a punishment but a plea. a broken heart expressing itself in the only way it knows how; with his fingers leaving purple and red kisses on your skin and his cock buried inside of you.

it's ironic, that those three words leave him just as speechless as the first time you said i love you did. just like then, he thinks you don't mean them. this time, you're not sure if you mean them either. there's a million unspoken words that hang like a swinging rope between you two, and nothing is said.

he grunts a couple of times in your ear, the sound softening into a little noise that could be a whimper but you know him, and he'd never say so either. his cock twitches as he spills inside of you.

he stays like that for a long while. his grip loosens on your jaw, and his fingers release your thigh, but his forehead falls to your shoulder.

the words linger on the tip of your tongue. every apology, every attempt at a reconciliation, and yet they stay there, just as unused as the last time you'd come in here with the intent to tell him off and ended up riding him on his trailer's couch.

a part of you knew that you only came this time to get any bit of his touch that he'd offer. a part of him knew, too, that this was not a proper breakup, but an angry, aggressive dance you guys did around the idea of it.

all of his anger is gone when he kisses the space where your jaw meets your throat, right over your racing pulse. "lemme get you cleaned up, alright?"

you can hear it, too, the words he meant to say and doesn't — never does. i'm sorry.

you don't say them, either, and so you know that you'll be back in here by the end of the week.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i just wanted this out of my drafts to be honest so if it's bad ... no it's not thank YEWWW

. . . @deanswidow @titsout4jackles @cosmicanakin @jasvtsc @figthoughts @depressionbarbie2023 @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @ultravi0lence14 @ostaramoon

#──★ dahlia's jrnl #90s!jensen #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles drabble #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles smut

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ziminy · 2 days ago

Text

Nightshift rewritten pt1

Having Gojo and Geto as roommates was a problem

Tags: smut, mdni, college au, roommates (obviously), f!reader, rich kid Gojo, the reader is a bit shy and introverted, jealousy, Gojo and Geto are playboys, mästurbation, getting caught, humping, kinda mean Geto (cuz I like him like that *bite lip*), a little bit of misunderstanding but they fuck at the end because of it so we're good, fïngering, thighs fuckïng, the reader have boobs, praises, teasïng, Gojo having a (not so) little crush on you,

Author's note: Personally, I believe that those two can't pull even if their lifes depends on it, 100% zero play. But I like to be delusional so I'mma just close my eyes.

Pt2 Pt3 masterlist

roommates masterlist

You knew that living in a dorm had more disadvantage than benefits, but you didn't think that you'll fight with your roommate the first day you moved in. You lived in a shitty place filled with shitty people, so you couldn't understand why she was trying to cause problems instead of trying to maintain the peace.

You were both adults, you should have think rationally and at least ignore each other. But no, she decided to bring guys over, fucking them in there, sometimes even when you were in the room asleep. One time waking up to her getting fucked in her bed since she decided to be so loud for the whole floor to hear.

She would throw her trash into your side of the room just to not clean, and start arguments left and right because it was fun for her.

What made you snap was when she started stealing your stuff. It started with small stuff like a few pencils here and there, or supplies that you payed money for it. Until she started stealing your clothes and wearing them, showing them off like you didn't know who the right owner was.

You had enough of her, so, you packed your stuff one time when she wasn't there and moved them into the back of your car, spending the next few days at a friend. One more day in that dorm and you'll sure commit murder.

You were embarrassed of your situation, can you believe your really ended up like this? Not having a place to call home and wandering around looking for a place to stay, even your friends were helping you and it made you feel more guilty.

Couldn't you had seen this problem before it happened? You were so excited at first, still remembering the way your heart was beating while sitting in front of the dorm, admiring the building and day dreaming about how wonderful your life would be. And now your hitting your head against every single wall you see, cursing yourself out for being such a fool.

"I know a guy that can help." one of your friends said, trying to reassure you. "We'll figure it out, don't worry." if you weren't surrounded by good people you would have quit and go home. However, you didn't expect to meet that guy the same day. He appeared a few minutes later like he knew he was needed. "Y/N, this is Satoru, the guy I told you about."

"Hi." you kept your words very minimal, trying to study his appearance and figure out what kind of person he was before you decided to accept his help or not. But can you blame yourself when your trust have been broken?

He was tall and well build, broad shoulders and a cocky smile on his face. His white hair was matching his shirt, and it was making him shine under the sun light, attracting all the attention to him. Round glasses on his face, a big designer logo could be seen on the sides of it. He didn't said a word, tilting his head to the right and looking down at you.

You looked the total opposite of him. While he looked like he was bathing in the blood of virgins maidens to remain forever young, you looked tired, like you haven't been able to sleep in the past few days at all. You hair all over the place, not wanting to cooperate with you today and the more he looked at you the more defects he can find. However, you catch his attention.

Even if you looked like a lost puppy left out in the rain, you looked so cute. It only made him feel like he could fix you, shower you with affection and get you at your best. Or, he could give you a few issues that you'd never be able to recover from. Or even worse, you end up fixing him, make him realize how much of an idiot he is and make him to finally settled down.

"Have you found anything yet?" your friend asked him, seeing how both of you looked at each other without saying a single sentence.

"Find what?" he couldn't take his eyes off you, mouth half open as he's still thinking about the possibilities.

"A place for Y/N?" if he's being honest, he totally forgot.

"You can stay at my place." he said, still being affected by your gaze. All that he can remember is the color of your eyes and your lips.

"I can?" you asked, not sure that you heard him right. Will your problems end up this quickly or was he fucking with you?

"Yeah." he said without even thinking.

"Let me see the place first and I'll give you an answer after." now he was finally coming back to his senses.

What have he done? Like, seriously, what did he just say? He can't believe himself, letting himself being swiped off his feet by some girl he just met for the first time.

And now he couldn't help but feel anxious, trying to remember in what state did he left the house, or what if you don't like it.

But he took you there, showing you his not so humble abode and presenting you every single room in the house. Talking about the lore and stuff that happened in there. A few parties here and there, how he ended up buying a new couch or how he got his TV broken. You know, just normal stuff.

"Then.. When can I move in?" you asked when he walked you out, expecting you to say that you'll think about it, or how you're thinking of another place. Anything but the words you just said.

"Whenever you want." he said, still not believing how smooth everything was going.

"I already have all my stuff ready, I can bring them here any time you're free." even better.

"How about now?" he said, wanting to feel your presence for a little longer.

"Sure." and by the end of the day you're already moved in, now unpacking everything in your room.

You were finally at peace. You had a place to stay, your own room and the guy you're living with is a busy person, so he won't even be there most of the time.

That night you finally managed to get a good night sleep. Placing your head on the pillow and shifting into the dream world instantly, dreaming about fluffy clouds and jumping from one to another, even biting some of them to see how they taste.

Everything was so peaceful, enjoying your time, walking around with cute stuffed animals by your side and laughing at your hearts desire.

It didn't lasted long because you heard a loud thunder, making you turn around to see someone far away, looking in your direction, waiting for your next move.

"Don't go, don't go." the squeaky animals said, trying to stop you from going in that person's direction. But you didn't listen, you kept walking forward, getting closer and closer to the mysterious figure.

You didn't even payed attention to the stranger, being more curious of why that place was different from the rest, why it's was so off settling. You looked back for a moment, still seeing the cute stuffed animals calling you back, but once again, you ignored them and turned your head away, continuing waking forward, now finally trying to see who that mysterious figure was. But to your surprise, the whole place became dark. The white clouds now black, the comfortable atmosphere now being suffocating, and the individual walking forward, getting closer to you.

You took a step back, trying to breath, but the closer he got, the more intoxicating the air became. "You're trapped now." a masculine voice could be heard from the person in front of you, leaning down to whisper those words in a mean manner right in your ear.

You gasped for air, finally waking up from whatever that dream was supposed to mean.

You were sweating, clothes sticking to your body and your head was hurting. The whole room was spinning and you couldn't help but think about what just happened.

It must be from the stress, all that negative energy building up, making you feel vulnerable. And now that you finally had time to rest, all that anxiety finally caught up with you. Yes, that must be.

You didn't even question the guy outside your room, waiting for you to get out and make a move.

"What's with all those boxes?" a masculine voice could be heard from outside your room, but it didn't belonged to the white haired man. After all, how could you forget his voice? It was haunting you even hours after you met him.

"About that." now, you could recognize that voice, there was no way it didn't belonged to Gojo.

"You what?" the other person said out loud, making you open your eyes. It was dark outside, who was making so much noises late at night?

You turned around in bed, looking for your phone and turning it on. It was 3 in the morning, tomorrow was a work day and no matter how much you think about it, there shouldn't be a commotion happening. Especially at this time.

Should you go and see what's going on? But it didn't sounded like you needed to get involved. In fact, your presence wasn't even required from the way the other guy was insulting Gojo. It was none of your business, whatever he did, he did it. You're not a witness since you only got here today, you don't know anything about that guy besides his name and the fact that he owns this place.

You'll see what happened tomorrow, it can't be that bad. And even if it was, it was none of your business.

So, the next day you got out your room. For once you managed to wake up early on your own accord, and you decided to see what happened last night.

You doubted that he would be there, especially this early. But the white haired man was in the kitchen, sipping something from his cup with another guy sitting a few chairs away from him.

"M-" you open your mouth, but you couldn't say a word when both of them turned to look at you. You cleared your throat, embarrassed at the way your voice cracked. "Good morning." you bite your lip, lowering your gaze and cursing yourself internally for making the moment awkward.

"Did you sleep well?" Gojo was all a smile, looking at your bed hair, happy to see you in such way.

The one next to him didn't looked happy tho, and if the way he cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention wasn't enough, then he doesn't know what more he needed to do.

"Ah, right. I forgot about you." Gojo laughed, but he was welcomed with his friend looking even angrier than before. "So, like, I don't know if I told you before but I share this place with my friend."

"You didn't mention this before." you said, making the dark haired man to raise an eyebrow, looking at you for a moment and then looking back at the one sitting at the table.

"Well, I said it now." the white haired man tried to excuse his behavior.

"Did he scammed you too?" the long haired man asked, shaking his head in disappointment. "How much did he ask for rent?"

"Not a lot." he told you to pay less than 50 bucks, per year. You were about to run from there when he said that, but then he explained to you how he doesn't need any money and how he's doing this to help you. Which was even more suspicious. "He told me that I can stay here for free." you said, remembering about how he didn't even wanted to accept money at first until you said you'll leave.

"Oh, really?" the dark haired man looked at his friend, still as unhappy as before.

"You're not even paying rent so why are you complaining?" Gojo rolled his eyes, annoyed at how Geto was acting.

"Are you asking me for money?" the way the man said that sounding threatening, like he ready to fight for real.

"Are you going to pay me?" they both stared at each other, questioning each other like they didn't already knew the answer. "Then why do you keep arguing about this?"

"It would have been nice to know before hand that someone is moving in."

"I'm sorry about it." you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He showed me the place yesterday, I already had everything packed and he said that I can just move in." the dark haired man just sighed.

"Well, whatever. It's already done." you knew it was crazy too, but you were desperate. But at least now you got to meet your other roommate.

This sounded so bizarre, it was too convenient for it to be a coincidence. Meeting some gorgeous guy, moving in with him the same day and then meeting another guy who's just as good looking as the other. And besides that, Gojo was filthy rich too, which makes this situation even more unreal.

Was this one of those situations of how I met your mother? Or was this some sort of prank and you were going to appear on tv for the whole world to see how stupid you are?

You'd believe it if at the end of this someone appears out of nowhere talking about how this was a big elaborate scheme to take revenge on you. Because there was no way this just happened out of nowhere.

Well, anyway. Now that you know who your roommates are, it was better to stay out their way. Mostly to not embarrass yourself in front of them. One wrong move and you'll throw yourself out the window, it was better to not test the waters at all to save some face and dignity.

And like this, a week passed. The house was as quiet as ever, your presence wasn't even felt and it's like both of them forgot you even existed if it wasn't for the shoes at the door.

It was Friday night, 11 something, almost midnight when you sneaked out your room, making your way to the kitchen. You were hungry, and if you didn't eat anything in that moment you feel like you'll pass out.

All the lights inside the house were turned off, it didn't feel like you were living with anyone. But you understood their schedule at this point. They were always out, only coming back home to sleep for a few hours and then disappear as soon as they wake up.

So, you didn't expect someone to walk in 10 minutes after you sat down at the long dining table. You were enjoying some leftovers and what else you found in the fridge, watching some funny video on your phone and giggling at it.

You almost choked when you saw Suguru walking in.

"It's you." he said, not even looking surprised to see you. But you on the other hand was dying, trying to swallow the food so you could run from there. "I haven't seen you these days." he walked to the fridge, opening it, then turned around to look at the table you were sitting at. "That was mine." you looked terrified, how comes you didn't thought about this before? "It's alright, don't worry. Satoru takes my food all the time." he said and walked towards you, sitting down next to you and taking something from the table to eat.

His friend whined the whole week about not being able to see you. He haves no idea what classes you were taking or at what hours, and now Satoru couldn't even talk to you in his own home.

Geto didn't understand what he saw in you. You were the total opposite of the women he hangs with. He knew his friend inside out, how could he not especially when they have the same type.

You didn't showed off, you didn't wear revealing clothes that made your body pop out. No, you were comfortable, wearing baggy clothes, not even bothering to doll yourself up for them. You weren't faking your personality and you weren't afraid of showing how you felt. You weren't trying to please them in any way, heck, you didn't even looked in their direction.

"You know, I wanted to talk to you about something." he said, seeing how you were trying to escape from there.

"Hm?" you tilted your head, deciding to stay for a little longer to hear him out.

"Me and Satoru shares our chores here. We don't do them everyday as you can see, but we do them once or twice a week." what a dull excuse. "Let me know what you wanna do next time." he doesn't believe shit he's saying.

"I see.." you didn't believe him either, did you? "I didn't know."

"Give me your number. I'll make a group chat so it would be easier for us to talk." Gojo better be grateful for all the work he's putting in.

"Alright." you gave him your number without thinking much about it.

"This is my number, and that's Satoru's. You can just save mine, forget about him." the dark haired man looked at you with the side of his eye, pointing at the phone numbers from the group chat he just added you in. He was testing you, to see what you'll say or do. "Just joking." he said when he saw you weren't reacting. "He'll be sad if you don't add him too."

"I don't think he will." you said, saving their numbers in your phone. Ah, his poor friend, you didn't even knew how you got him acting up in hope to catch your attention.

"Want to see how he'll react about it?" you shook your head. Right, you were a pacifist after all, what did he even expected. "Anyway, are you going anywhere this weekend?" you shook your head again, not having any plans and wanting to rest more. "I'm going to a party tomorrow. Why don't you come with me?" you looked displeased at his words, he noticed the way your nose scrunch.

"I don't like parties." of course you don't. He already knew the answer, but he was hoping he could get under your skin, play with you for a moment just to see his friend's reaction.

"Don't you get bored inside all day?" he would. He feel like he's suffocating staying in the same place for too long.

"Not really. I'm more comfortable here than outside." he really doesn't get what Gojo saw in you. You're so.. bland. You were too domestic.

"Well, the party offer is still available. Text me whenever you change your mind." he'll prove that you're the same as others. You just need a little bit of pushing, and he'll push you over your limits as much as it's needed.

But you didn't texted him that night. He waited and waited and he didn't got a single message from you. And the next day you had the audacity to appear in the kitchen, wanting to talk to them.

"About what we talked yesterday." you said, looking at the visibly annoyed man, and then at Gojo who was half asleep.

"What did we talked about yesterday?" the white haired man said, only remembering about the party he attended last night.

"I could do the groceries next week." you planned on going out to buy a few things anyway, so you're basically killing two birds in one stone.

"You're sure? There's a big list of things you have to buy." the dark haired man said, trying to push you into asking for help.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have a car, it's not like I'm carrying them from the store here." what a disappointment.

"Wait, what are we talking about?" Gojo finally came to his senses, seeing you appear out of nowhere and talking so casual, for once you didn't looked tired or scared to be there.

"Our chores. Suguru told me about it." all Geto did was to look at his friend, trying to telepathically talk to him, but his face said more than enough. Play along, that's all he had to do.

"Then I'll do the laundry." the dark haired man said, a smile appearing on his face. "And Satoru is doing the dishes."

"What, why me?" this was absurd.

"Because I'm doing them today."

"Anyway, I'm glad we managed to settle this." you said, turning around and ready to go back to your room.

"You could have texted, that's what the group chat is for after all." well, yes, but it was better to do some stuff face to face.

"What group chat?" Gojo was so far behind with this.

"Check your phone." that's all the dark haired man said, making his friend to get his phone out immediately.

"Anyway, I'll go now." and you disappeared from there.

Your life was supposed to be peaceful, wake up, do your usual stuff and then go back to sleep only to wake up and do the same thing again. Some would say that it's boring, but that's how your life is, and you don't want to change it.

However, the devils outside your room said otherwise, texting and texting even though it's not necessarily. Asking if you want to go out, or some other stuff that involves too much physical effort. You get it that they're trying to be friendly, but there's some boundaries and they don't seem to mind stepping over that line.

Your roommates are working full time trying to get you out your room. Sending you risky texts (nothing out of pocket, just stuff they wouldn't usually say), being extra extra nice with you, talking to you in a baby voice and if you're being honest, it's annoying. But you didn't said a thing, trying to help them save some dignity, knowing they probably don't even mean those words.

The stupid might not be so stupid after all. They been observing you, studying you, your likes, your dislikes, your body movements and you as a person. Their study so detailed that it had been a month and a half since you moved in, and now they're putting their plan in action.

It was almost midnight when your phone buzzed, your oh so lovely house mate Suguru send you a text. "Got some takeouts" and a photo of your favorite attached. You recognize the package, it was from your favorite restaurant. "Was on my way home and passed by that place, got something of what they still had left" he texted again. Lies, him and Satoru been placing orders left and right for all kind of food, the ones you like especially.

You thought nothing of it, walking out your room with a smile on your face as you went to taste whatever they have got home.

The next day it was Gojo's turn. Getting home a lot earlier, a bag with some black boxes inside, the name of a fancy restaurant written with gold on them.

"Y/N." he called your name, a smile on his face as he waited for you to come running to him. "Y/N." he said your name again, but you seemed nowhere to be found. God, what were you doing to him.

He left the bags in the kitchen, getting out of there and walking towards your room, opening the door without a warning and looking at you who sat in the bed.

You looked at him, looking a lot more relaxed than when he first met you. You were finally getting some sleep, and he feared that some random fucker would try to steal you from him.

You blinked a few times, eyelashes moving prettily, eyes as big as ever, and he had to mentally slap himself to keep his composure. Forget about the food, he wanted to eat you.

"I-" he took a deep breath, trying to figure out why he came to your room in the first place. "Got some takeouts from this restaurant I've been to." he had no idea what he was saying, he couldn't even hear himself. The way you look at him got him mesmerized.

"Okay." you got up, walking towards him, then into the kitchen.

The package looks expensive, and so did the food. You couldn't help but stare in awe, wandering if you're even allowed to look at it in the first place.

"Got invited to this restaurant that just opened." the white haired man said, looking at you eating. He's indifferent about the food, all he cares about is what you think.

"I see." you could only nod, taking a bite of another thing, tasting it and debating which one tasted better. "It's good." you said.

It didn't matter how much your stupid roommates would try to lure you out, if it wasn't food then it wasn't working. But they kept trying and trying, and they always failed.

Invitations to the movies, parties or even just a walk outside, you'd always decline. It didn't matter if all you had to do is cross the street, you'd say no. A part of you being too embarrassed to go out with them, I mean, what would people say if they see you together? Just look at them, you'll attract all the attention and that's terrifying no matter how much you think about it. Or what if people think you're fucking them or something? Oh god, what would your roommates say?

It wasn't like you wanted to keep that distance, it's just.. they're intimidating. The way they look down at you, corner you at the dining table and sandwiches you between them. The man spreading was real, taking all the space you had, making you feel so so much smaller. They would even take the air from your lungs if it was possible.

Was it wrong to say you liked it? How both of the men bend down to talk to you, or just look at you. Broad shoulders that were double your size, big chests that made you look down way too many times than you'd like to admit. It made you feel bad every time you think of it, but at the same time was it really your fault when they were some nymphs?

They don't seem to do a move, and even if they did, you couldn't figure out if it was some sort of hidden hint or if your overthinking it. They were nice, they were good roommates, but sometimes you wanted more than just little hello's here an there. You gotta do a move, but for the moment you have to think of a plan.

"You're home?" you said, walking into the kitchen and looking at the two men who were still in pyjamas.

"We're not going anywhere today." the dark haired man said, taking something out the fridge and walking next to you, wanting to go back to his room. "You're going somewhere?" he asked, looking at the dress you had on, making his friend look up his phone.

"I'm going out with my friends. I'll be back late." how did the tables turned. "Anyway, see you later." you walked out of there, finally going out for the first time in days.

Everything was going good so far. The weather was nice, you were having a great time, and so did your friends. But just like always, something haves to come up and ruin your mood.

"Y/N, you live with Gojo and Geto, right?" a friend of yours asked, finally letting everyone know of your living situation.

"Yeah." you said nonchalantly, not seeing why your friend should bring your roommates into the discussion.

"It's true? Spell the tea, and don't miss a single detail." another person said, but you weren't even sure of what to say.

"Which one have you slept with?" you saw your soul leaving at that question. "You haven't?"

"You didn't? Why?" you weren't sure yourself.

"We just live together, nothing more than the same old small talk." but you couldn't deny that they were tempting.

"You could have done it everyday since you live with them."

"Why are we talking about this?" you asked, confused on why you got in this situation in the first place.

"Don't you know?" you shook your head. "They're known for sleeping around." they are? Who could have guessed? You thought they had zero game.

"They're always out to party, in fact, you can't even call a party party if they're not there." one of your friends said, finally answering why your roommates were out all the time.

"They're so popular, there isn't a single person who doesn't know who they are." this have to be an exaggeration.

"So like.. About them.. You know, fooling around." you can't help but be curious. "How much are we talking about it?"

"I heard they take home a girl everyday." you never saw a single girl in there?

"I heard that they don't sleep with the same girl twice." what eccentrics.

"Haven't you heard about that girl that slept with Gojo three times? She's basically calling herself his girlfriend." what? He's in a relationship?

"No way. I saw him two days ago at a party. I almost went home with him." huh? Even your own friends?

"And you didn't invited me?" your other friend gasped then started laughing.

You were curious, just curious. And this cliche of a plot only got you in your thoughts. So, basically, your very hot roommates who seemed out this world had their own planet where they bang everyone but you. They go party all night and then leave with god knows who while you're at home in your room doing what you usually do.

It was none of your business, and yet you can't help but feel bad. What was wrong with you? Do you not have any kind of sex appeal? Was this why Gojo even asked you to move into his place? Because he knew he could leave you be? He should be happy that you looked in his direction to begin with.

More questions appeared, and you kept sulking for the rest of the day, even when you got home.

You shouldn't had asked, you should have minded your own business because now you can't help be sad. Why couldn't it be you?

"I'm back." you said while opening the front door, wanting nothing more than take a shower and then sleep for as much as possible.

"Welcome back." you heard Suguru's voice while you were taking your shoes off. "How was out?" tiring, but he didn't needed to know.

"Fun." you said, pushing your shoes to the side, out the way so no one would trip over them. "Got takeouts." you bought some without even thinking. It became normal for them to get something home that you did it without thinking twice.

"I'll get them." he got closer to you, picking the small bag from your hand.

He looked at you with a blank expression. You tried to mimic his face, not wanting to let anyone know about your foolish feelings, this jealousy that was eating you inside. And he picked it up fast, realizing you weren't feeling well.

"You're alright?" he tried to mask any kind of concern, not wanting to show that he cared.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?" you couldn't even smile, even if you wanted to.

"Did something happen while you were out?" that's the only explanation he could came up with. Why else would you feel bad if it wasn't that?

"It's just the weather. Don't worry about it." why was he asking if he didn't cared about you? His dumb pity wasn't making you feel any better.

"You can talk to me if you want. I'm always free for you." he talks like he's not free for others as well.

"It's alright. I'll go take a bath and then I'll feel better."

"If you say so." honestly, he was so annoying.

You walked away from there, to your room when you remembered about that bath. Some warm water and the smell of your body wash would work so good in that moment. So, you turned around, going towards the bathroom.

You were so tired, still in your thoughts, overthinking about this whole inexistent situation that you didn't heard the water running.

You open the door, expecting to see an empty bathroom, but instead you saw that somebody was inside. Back towards you and taking a shower, you could recognize that white hair anywhere.

For a moment you froze in place, your body refusing to cooperate with you when you kept yelling internally to run away from there. Your eyes however still worked, and it wander for a little. It traveled from his head, to his neck, and then on his bare back that was exposed to you. He extended his hand, grabbing the closest bottle that was next to him, your shampoo, and putting some in his hand, making you silently gasp.

Forget about your bad mood from earlier, now you were mad at the fact that Satoru was using your shampoo, next thing you know that he's using your towels as well. What if the other man was using your stuff as well? Was that why his hair was looking way too good lately?

You ran out the bathroom, going back to your room, too angry to even change clothes. You just jumped in bed and fell asleep, hoping to wake up and forget about everything that happened.

The next day came, and you woke up a lot earlier than usually. You were hungry, thirsty and your head hurts. You didn't even drank any kind of alcohol yesterday and yet it felt like you were feeling the worst hangover ever know to mankind.

With small steps you walked out your room, eyes still closed as you were trying to find your way to the kitchen.

"Morning, sleepyhead." that colorful voice, as much as you liked Gojo you really couldn't handle his teasing at the moment.

"Mm." you hummed something, looking for some water.

"Do you feel better?" the dark haired man could act like he doesn't know a thing, but instead he chose to embarras you.

"You drank too much yesterday?" Gojo asked, feeling left out by the fact that you went out to drink and you didn't think of inviting him. He wasn't that much of an alcohol fan but he could have come as emotional support.

"Didn't even seen a single drink yesterday." you said, opening a bottle of water. If you would had looked in a better conditions, you would have looked believable, but no. Your hair was in all directions, you looked tired than you should be, and your dress had seen better days.

"Where have you been last night?" Gojo's voice was too serious, and even his smile disappeared. Geto would have put the same question if he didn't saw you yesterday.

"Here, where else?" it's not like you had anywhere else to go. "Fell asleep the moment I sat in bed."

"What happened yesterday anyway?" Geto asked, trying to find out what got you in that mood.

"Did something happen yesterday?" why was Satoru the last one to find stuff?

"She came back yesterday looking sad."

"Did someone did something to you? Is that why you look like that?" seriously, Gojo was over reacting.

"Fell asleep without changing." you were too relaxed about this. While the men were concerned about something bad might had happened, you didn't even seemed to care. "Was too tired yesterday."

"And why is that?" they're too insisting, and you didn't understand why. This is only ruining your mood. If they don't care about you why are they acting so nice? Now you can't but overthink again.

"It's nothing, really." everyone could see the sudden change, from tired you looked a lot sadder now.

"I'll deal with it, just tell me the bastard's name." you wanted to laugh but you were afraid Gojo might actually do something.

"It's not like that."

"Then?" the dark haired man crossed his arms to his chest, leaning against the wall as he looked at you.

"I heard something I didn't like." that was all? They thought someone was bullying you or picking on you. "I mean, I don't know if it's the truth but it makes sense and that's what I don't like."

"Then don't listen to it." you shook your head.

"I had my speculations and now everything is confirmed." you could only sigh.

"Is your boyfriend cheating on you?" boy who?

"I'm not in a relationship." that's reassuring.

"If you don't like the truth just close your eyes. It's easy to ignore what you don't like to see." that explains a lot of their strange behavior, but at the same time you didn't want to do just like Suguru just said.

"It's hard to ignore it when it's right in front of me." what would they know when they're the cause of your distress? "Honestly, I feel much better knowing that I was right. Now I can avoid causing problems." somehow, neither of the men liked how that sounded. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower and then go back to sleep." why did you even consider their opinion was a mystery, but you do feel better about yourself knowing that you're just being delusional. Live the way you did before meeting them, easy.

You're playing with their feelings, and yours as well. While they're all open for your opinion, and actually growing to have a soft spot for you, you turn your back on them.

What more did you needed from them? They're trying their best to understand you, they've been so understanding and holding back way too much, but you still don't get the hints.

But they also don't get your almost non existent hints. I mean, can their actions be counted as hints? But perhaps that's what's wrong, the fact that no one is actually trying to imply something.

Can this situation get fixed? You refuse to get out your room until you sort your thoughts out. It got to the point where no one have seen you in a week already and Satoru is so close on kicking your door down to drag you out of there.

Frustration keep building up, from both sides. And it manifested in different ways for everybody. While you went out a little more than usually, trying to enjoy some fresh air, your roommates were out getting from bed to bed, making their name more known that it already is.

It didn't lasted long for you though, and soon you went back being a lazy cat. Your social battery drained quicker than you thought, but not theirs. And one day you woke up with strange sounds in the middle of the night.

You were sleeping peacefully when it happened. Being long gone in the dream world when you felt like you were being dragged out of it. Confused, you looked around, trying to understand the situation, what exactly was going on. You got out of bed, walking back and forth in your room, thinking only the worst about this situation.

Your neighbor is hurt, and those sounds are because of it. Or worse, someone broke into the house and your home alone because of course you are, what do you even expect from the two men who lives under the same roof as you.

You open the door slightly, still paranoid, but you were trying to understand what was going on.

You picked one of the house slippers you had next to your bed, ready to hit who ever came close to where you were.

Feminine moans, and you still couldn't figure it out if it was pain or something else. But you finally understood what was going on after a while.

Who dared to wake you up because they couldn't keep it down? Right, how could you forget about how promiscuous those two guys were. What if you come home with a guy one day? At least you had the decency to think of going to a hotel or something, not here where everybody could hear.

Your mood is ruined once again. Can you believe the audacity? How could you have dream about banging one of them, or both? The thought is still nice, and you're not crazy enough to pass such an opportunity, but still.

It was almost noon when you woke up the next day. And as much as you didn't want to see those guy's faces, you were curious about the girl. What did she had and you don't?

Shy, you got out your room. Opening the door of your room softly and walking as quietly as possible.

You walked past the living room when you saw what a mess it was, making you stop in place and reconsider what happened. Maybe somebody did broke into the house yesterday?

Cautiously, you walked towards the couch only to see Gojo sleeping peacefully on it. A blanket over him and it wasn't even covering him. He was also not wearing a shirt, and you could only imagine how he was feeling in that moment. After all, it was always cold in the morning.

Feeling a little bit of sympathy, you decided to do something good for once, even if he was annoying at times. Lowering yourself, you grabbed the blanket and dragged it over him. What happened last night did ruined your mood completely, but this was his house. Your jealousy can be put aside for a moment.

"Mm." he groaned, turning around to face you. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times and looking at you, then blinking a few more times and trying to figure out if you're real or not.

"Did I wake you up?" your soft voice only made him feel guilty, for everything he did. For the fact that he open his door for you with not so clear intentions and the fact that he kept looking at girls who resemble you in a way or another. Just like he did yesterday, meeting someone who looks too much like you in the dark, bringing her home and fucking her on the couch because he didn't want to bring her into his room, and for you to hear. Good thing he stopped himself from bending her over the dining table, right on the spot you like to sit at or else he wouldn't be able to even look at you right now. "Sorry."

"I was awake." he's not even sure if he got any sleep at all.

"I thought you might be cold." the only thing he's feeling at the moment is stupid, and somehow regret but he's not really sure about that.

"I'm not." he said, finally getting up, sitting on the couch and looking around to see if the place looked the same as he remembers. The blanket fell off him, revealing too much of him. You could see his bare back, and a bit of his thighs which were just as naked as his upper body. He looked at you, noticing the way you were trying to figure out why there was so much skin showing. "I'm not wearing any clothes." he answered to your unasked question. "I'm naked." the look you had on your face was something he haven't seen before, and honestly, this small interaction alone was doing more to him that anything he had done for the past few weeks.

You took a few steps back, making him laugh.

He rested his back against the couch, he wasn't even looking at you but he knew exactly what expression you had. "Why did you ran? Don't you wanna see more?" all he got in response was the sound of you walking away, hurried steps getting out the room and leaving him alone once again.

He's not good at communicating, and he's trying to mask that by a goofy facade, hoping you and everyone else won't notice. But man, it kinda hurts. He can't explain why, since he doesn't know why. He just feel dumb, useless for doing things he doesn't want to and still expect stuff to be the same, or even better.

Can you forgive him? He'll try to do better from now on. Either this or he'll bring girls over and over in hope to catch your attention.

"I'll go out, doubt I'll come back until tomorrow." Geto texted in the group chat.

"Me too :(" Gojo also sent something. "Don't miss me too much." you looked at the texts, and you can't be more thankful. You needed some time alone, like, all alone. Just you,the whole house for yourself and the sound of nothing.

"I'll stay home. I don't have any plans for today or tomorrow." and you're happy with your life.

"Don't get too crazy while we're out." the only wild thing you can do is take a cold shower instead of a hot one.

"I won't." and now you were waiting.

Your day was peaceful, watching a movie and then scrolling on social media. You didn't even noticed when it got dark outside, and now you're bored.

You have the whole house for yourself, you're all alone. No one is here besides you.

You're used to them being out, but now it just feels different. You were alone, and you didn't liked it. It was a shame to not have company on such a beautiful night.

Was it wrong to say you craved for some human touch? To feel the warmth of someone else, and perhaps the embrace of said person. It doesn't even have to be something sexual, or romantic. It can be just a simple interaction, no words needed.

You didn't even realize when you started rubbing your thighs together, your body feeling too hot for your own good. And the more you think about it the more it bothers you.

You're alone right now, aren't you? No one is there to disturb you. You can just.. indulge yourself, I guess?

With a quick movement, your pants were somewhere in the room, your shirt up your body, revealing your breasts and your panties to the side. Some porn playing on your phone and it wasn't much for help. That was until you saw one particular video, a man that seemed familiar in a way or another over a much smaller body. Your pussy twitching at the realization of who that man looks like. It looked just like one of your roommates and you were so ashamed for being turned on, but you couldn't help but look for similar stuff.

You needed more of them, anything that resembles your roommates, you needed to see it. It can be the hair, the body, or the way they just fuck. Anything that sparks something in your head, anything that screams them. You can't help but moan just thinking about it.

With a hand between your legs, you tried to mimic the movement of who ever was on your screen, moaning quietly when your imagination was going too wild.

Lost in your own world, you didn't even heard the front door opening, or the steps that were getting closer to your room. You didn't got a text that would warn you about someone coming home, so you weren't worried. Instead you were focused on that orgasm that kept building up, it was so close and you're trying really hard to keep your mind focus, away from those roommates of yours.

The man outside your room froze in place, your door was slightly open and he had a clear view of your bed and your little alone time. He could say something, but at the same time he didn't want to. Seeing you in that situation was too fascinating. Like, who would have thought the little angel that keeps herself from the world would do something like this?

It got him curious, what were you watching? What got you like this in the first place? The moans you leave out from time to time, not sure yourself if you should let them out or not.

What got him to almost open the door and get in your bed was when you came, holding back a moan that he just knows it would get him weak in the knees. You were trembling, eyes closed and biting your shirt to not let anything you might regret out. And you kept going even after you came, this time looking more desperate than before.

He couldn't keep it like this, he haves to do something. So, without thinking, he turned on his phone.

"Something came up, I'll be back in a few minutes." you got a text, looking at the name of the person that sent it and then letting out the moan you were holding back earlier. Suguru.

It only got you feeling more fucked up than you were already. Letting go of your phone and focusing on that annoying aching from between your legs. "Fuck." you cursed without realizing. Letting out small please as you tried to cum at least one more time before he 'came back'.

To his disappointing, you didn't came a second time, putting your clothes back on quickly and trying to make it look like nothing happened. He had no choice but to walk back to his room and try to sleep this off or else he won't be able to leave you alone for the rest of the night.

He couldn't sleep at all, thinking about your reactions, how his text got you moaning harder than before. What were you watching? Was it something he should be aware of? But he couldn't just take your phone and look at what you were looking.

He refuses to live with this information and let you go off easily. You had to pay for your actions. I mean, how could you not ask for help? And how could you let him see you like that when you didn't planned on letting him have any.

So, imagine how surprised he was to see you act like nothing happened the next day. Making him think there was something wrong with him for staring at you way too intensely. But he got a plan. You had to give up at some points, and he'll just help you give up sooner than later for your own good.

"I'm on groceries duty this week?" the dark haired man asked, already knowing what he he'll do.

"Yep." his friend said, looking in his phone.

"You're coming with me, Satoru." he said, a smile on his face and all he could think of was the sweet taste of your pussy on him.

"Why?"

"Just do it. Don't ask so many questions." and the two guys were off.

Now, Geto's plan would work only if you do as he planned. All he haves to do is deny you for a few days, cockblock you and leave you hanging just enough to become dumb for him. Then he haves to act like the knight in shining armor and help you, since he's a gentleman.

That's why he got Gojo with him, leaving him in the middle of the store and running home just to see what you'd do. And to his surprise, you were acting just like he wanted you to. Stuffing yourself full of your fingers, all in a hurry to release yourself from the previous time you couldn't. A hand over your mouth, trying to not let anything out, to not get too comfortable with this. But it was so hard, and you couldn't help but let a few sounds out once in a while.

He really doesn't get you. Why not asking for help? Both of the men were easy, a few nice words or just a nod and they'll be all over you. Heck he's the easiest person he knows. Give him a pretty look and he'll fuck you just the way you want. So why do you keep refusing to acknowledge them, or him at least?

He gulped, biting his lip before he open his mouth. "I'm back." he said it in a quiet tone, to make it look like he was further away than he actually was.

He loved this, the panicked look on your face and trying to gather your composure. Oh , he'll enjoy playing with you.

At first he would just pop out of nowhere, making sure you don't get any time alone, at least without acknowledging his presence. But now he would invite himself in your room whenever he walked past it. Slightly opening the door to catch a glimpse of whatever you were doing. It didn't matter if it was in the middle of the day or at night when he was supposed to sleep.

He can see how frustrated you were, and he couldn't be more happier than this.

"I don't wanna go." Gojo whined, looking at his phone only to sigh. "They'll force me to stay over the night." he pushed his phone far away from him.

"Then don't go?" you didn't understand why he was complicating himself when he could just stay home.

"Another of your family gatherings, huh?" the dark haired man said, making you realize that it was more than it looked like.

"Ah.." you scratched your neck. "We'll miss you." if he had to go, he had to go.

"I wish that I could take Y/N with me, but they'll never let go of it if I take someone with me." the white haired man groaned.

"Good luck." you can't really say much since you don't know how his family was like.

"Are you doing something tonight?" Geto asked, looking down at you and waiting for an answer.

"No."

"Really? Because you look very busy to me." you didn't understood his words. "Why don't you watch a movie with me then? I don't have anything better to do."

"I also wanna watch a movie." the white haired man whined.

"We'll watch when you come back." his friend said, but he wasn't really sure of that.

"I mean, sure." oh, if you only knew what your sweet roommate actually had in mind.

The time went painfully slow. But now it was dark outside once again. And Suguru could feel his palms sweating. What if everything goes as he wanted? He knows he kept thinking about it, but he can't see himself in an adulterous situation with you.

You're just there. You don't do much, you don't talk much and he's used to that. He's used to think about it, always putting what if in front of his day dreams. He was making fun of his friend for being such a dork but now look at him, actually concerned about this whole situation. What if nothing goes as he planned? Or what if it does?

Fucking without any feelings, that's what he's used to. But now this got him thinking that he should run to the closest flower shop to get some roses. Maybe some candles too?

"Suguru, are you awake?" a soft knock on his door woke him up from his thoughts.

"Y- Yeah." his voice betrayed him. "I didn't even noticed the time." he lied, finally opening the door and stepping into the hallway.

"What are we watching?" you moved your eyelashes so prettily. He's afraid he won't last that long next to you, especially since you're alone.

"I don't know." he didn't think that further yet.

In the end, you turned on the TV on a random channel, watching whatever it was on. A movie about a man trying to be a hero, the same old generic plot, with the same over the top acting and action. Lots of explosion and lots of unnecessary stuff. But it was the perfect movie for your situation.

No love included, no sweet words or couples. It was enough to make the two of you forget about the awkwardness between you two. Or so you thought. Because halfway through the movie the female lead appeared. And some time later the two actors were getting it on.

You couldn't help but stare in disbelief, the sex was so dry that you're surprised they let the scenes in the movie. On the other side of the couch, your roommate was trying his best to not look at you or else he might do something out of pocket.

You, however, didn't feel the same as him. So you turned your head towards him, looking at how uncomfortable he was. "You're alright?" don't look at him, don't look at him, don't- "This movie is stupid." you laughed, thinking that's what he wanted to say as well but he decided not to. "Wanna watch something else?" right, how did he not think of that?

Taking the remote, he changed the channel. And this one was even worse. Without any warnings you were looking now at two other actors making out like there was no tomorrow. And as much as he wanted to see your reaction, he changed the channel without hesitating.

Third time with luck. No explicit actions, just two actors out in the city, walking next to each other.

"I always wanted to tell you this, ever since I first met you." the male actor said, looking at his costar a bit too lovingly.

"I also have something to say." the female actor said, looking a bit shy and red in the cheeks.

"You go first." the male actor said, biting his lip and holding back whatever he wanted to say.

"Do you think this is a spy movie?" you asked, trying to alternate the plot even if it was obviously what was going on.

"I like you." one of the actors said and it made you sigh.

"Never mind." you shook your head.

"It would have been funny it if was." at least he was on the same page as you. And once again, he changed the channel, for your own goods.

"Thanks god it's ads." you could finally breath in peace.

You watch some cartoons and then change the channel again when it got too boring. The movie from earlier where those actors were confessing their love was now filled with obscene scenes. And unlike before, they actually looked they really were in heat. Touching each other like there's no tomorrow, the kisses looks so real that you won't be surprised if they actually start fucking. Even the moans sounded real.

Not wanting to look at that for any longer, you turned off the tv, breathing heavily and hoping you don't look like you're affected by it.

You gulped, wanting to see how the man next to you was doing, but at the same time you didn't want to look because you knew this was going to be a long night the moment you gave him any attention. And he was feeling the exact same, not daring to move an inch because he knew he couldn't keep his hands away from you for much longer.

Curiosity got the best of you, and in the end you ended up turning your head towards him, at the same time as he looked at you.

No one said a thing. The silence was too audible, but somehow comfortable.

"Come here." he said, resting his back against the couch and waiting for your move. You'd probably run, like you always do. That's what he expected you to do, but imagine his surprise when you got closer, looking at him with big eyes and waiting for his next command. He's not convinced yet, I mean, this was too good to be true, there haves to be a catch. "Here." he pat his lap, waiting to see if he could have you for the night or not.

You got on his lap, your legs on either sides of him and your hands on his shoulders. His hands travelled on your hips, moving them up your body, grabbing one of your boobs for a moment before he let go. He dragged you closer, lowering his head just enough to get a better look at you before his lips touched yours.

He's testing the waters, trying to see what you allow him to do, where your boundaries were before he'll let you have more of him.

But you didn't pushed him away no matter what he did. He could explore your body freely, there was no forbidden zone, he could touch all of your body and that only made him greedier.

All the shyness from earlier evaporated, all the awkwardness and doubt went out the window the moment the kiss became a much deeper one. Now you were eating each other out, hands all over the place and dragging the other closer whenever one got a little away.

"Let me take it off." he got away for a moment, taking your shirt off with a single movement. His lips were now on your neck, going down to your breasts and biting them, leaving marks all over the place.

This wasn't his usual style, marking his territory and making out. He usually just gets to the business. And he been lying if he said he didn't like what he's doing now.

One of his hands went to your ass, dragging you closer, moving yourself right on his hard cock that wanted to escape from his pants. He's about to lose it but at the same time he wants to take his sweet time because he haves a feeling that you'll run away from him tomorrow.

He guided you at first, moving you on him so both of you could get some friction, a little bit of relief before the big thing happens.

He kissed you, again and again. From your lips to your neck, sucking on your nipples and then back up. He wanted to know he been there before anyone else or at least before his absent friend.

You moaned quietly, letting out sounds bearly audible, holding back anything louder than that. But it was alright, he'll make you louder later.

The image of you stuffing your pussy with your fingers, desperately to cum was now playing in his mind.

He wants to try that, his cock is twitching just thinking about how warm and wet you must be.

He got you off him, getting up and looking at your disappointed face. "Take off your pants." he tried to keep his words minimal, but it was more than enough to get your face change in a instant.

Your actions holds more power over him than you think. It got his mouth watering just looking at you.

He took you in his arms, walking towards your room, almost kicking the door down so he could get in faster. He placed you at the edge of your bed, taking your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket, not even caring if you noticed him or not. Then he took his shirt off.

Pushing you in bed and hovering over you, placing your legs over his thighs so it would stay open. With a finger, he traveled in between your folds just to see how wet you were. How can he hold back when he haves you like this? He doesn't even think he can put his dick in just yet, who knows when he'll lose his composure and fuck everything up. One moment inside your warm pussy and it's over for him.

"Stop staring, it's embarrassing." your small voice didn't helped him with the demons inside of him.

He bite his lip, getting two of his fingers slowly inside your pussy. It was hard to hold back whatever words he had to say, he especially didn't wanted to let out any praises after you played with his feelings.

You feel a lot better than he expected, and his bars were already high. Somehow you manage to always exceed his expectations. Can you blame him when he started to move his fingers deeper and deeper? He just wanted to see how far he could go, see where your sweet spots are so he could give them the attention it needed.

Curling his fingers to see how you'd react, moving in and out at a fast speed only to slow down and curl his fingers again. You almost started crying when he started rubbing your clit. He was so focused on torturing you, showing you that it was better with him giving you what you needed than doing it yourself.

And when you came it wasn't even better, he kept his hand movement, overstimulating you just to show you that he can. But you too could play his game, tugging at his shirt to drag him closer to you and kiss him, making him stop for a moment. Ah, right. You probably wanted more than just his fingers after all this time he kept tormenting you.

He took his fingers out of you, making you feel empty. Now focusing on kissing you. The way he takes everything so slow was annoying, and you tried to grab his shirt, to get it off him. But that only made him laugh. "I'm not going anywhere." he said with a smile on his face, surprised at how impatient you were.

He can't say he doesn't get it, because he understands how you feel perfectly. And as much as he wants to tease you more, he can't. So he did as you pleased, taking off his clothes. Your eyes on him the whole time.

He got on top of you once again, getting in between your legs and staring at you. His cock resting on your lower stomach, just to get an idea of how much he could fit inside and man, looking at the size now you're a little scared, but still very much aroused.

As much as he wanted to turn a blind eye on this, he couldn't. Not when he sees how you look at him. Guess he was right about not being able to go all the way in today. He'll have to take small steps and he's afraid he doesn't have that much time.

So, he pressed your legs together, placing them over his shoulder, getting his cock in between your thighs. "You can't handle it." his words didn't made you happy. I mean, even if it was true, wasn't he supposed to suport you? Compliment you and tell you how good your doing, that you can take it.

He moved his hips slowly, ignoring the expression you're giving him and focusing on the friction. God, next time he'll get his hands on you he won't leave you alone.

You calmed down, now examining his face, his movement and how you could see the tip of his cock every time his pelvis touched the back of your thighs.

An idea appeared in your head, and you flexed your thighs, looking at the way he groaned, gripping your skin harder.

"You like it?" you were curious, just wanting to know how he feels, but he interpreted your words differently. "Should I do it again?" are you mocking him? Because if you continue like this he'll make this harder for you.

Your eyes had something innocent in them, like you were genuinely curious about his pleasure, yet he refused to believe it. I mean, you had him in such a desperate state, there was no way you weren't laughing at him.

"Close your eyes." he placed a hand over your eyes. He was feeling too embarrassed for his own good.

"I like looking at you." you tried to take his hand away. "You're cute." all he did was to groan in response. "Let me look at you, come on." you spend way too much time thinking about this to not be able to see him.

"Stay put or I'll fuck your pussy so good you'll forget your own name." he kept barking something between his teeth. But you didn't listen to his empty words. You wanted to see him in action not just talking.

"Come ooon." you whined, not listening to his threat.

Instead of any more words, you were met with him spreading your legs and his cock right against your pussy. You wanted to look at him? Then look.

Your heart was beating way too fast, and he wasn't even paying you attention. Slapping the tip of his cock against your wet folds, rubbing it up and down, and the slapping your poor pussy again. Taming brats was one of his favorite activities after all.

No matter how much he wants to show you that he's not just talk, he's true to his words. He'll let this slide this time.

So, to show you that he can still give you something without his cock deep inside of you, he got his body closer to yours. Pressing his thick length against your pussy, right onto your clit, and moving his hips slowly for you to get used to this feeling.

You did know your place after all, and yet you liked pressing his buttons. Lucky you he enjoyed your company or else he wouldn't have taken your teasing that lightly. But the more he thinks about it the more it gets on his nerves.

He started to let some of his weight into you, pressing his pelvis into yours harder, moving his hips faster. His hot breath against your ear, letting nothing but filthy sounds out, moans just for you to hear. And he was met with your nails into his back, dragging him closer, wanting to feel more of him on you, your legs wrapped around his waist and you wished nothing more but to see him from a third view, to have a better look at his back and just him in general.

Your moans, he wanted to eat them up. He was trying his absolute best not to kiss you in that moment. Because if he does, it's most likely he'd get used to it, and he doesn't want that.

"Suguru." the way you said his name got his cock twitching. "Kiss me." he groaned. You'll be too spoiled if he fulfills every single one of your requests. "Please?" he had to bite your shoulder in order to keep a moan from coming out.

Stop playing with him, for fucks shake. Can't you see he's unwell? Look at the way he's moving his hips, always doing what makes you feel good. He's not acting like his usual self. He's not selfish, he's not seeing this as a quick way to get off then say goodbye. All you could do in that moment is not give him attention, make him feel indifferent but instead you want more of him and it pissing him off because he wants more too.

"I want to cum inside you so bad." he let his thoughts out, too lost on how wet your pussy was, leaking out so much that it got on his dick without doing anything.

"Don't." you shook your head, not wanting to deal with any surprises.

He let you have unnecessary request, and yet he's not allowed that much? Perhaps you're the greedier one here. And he too can be mean.

Without much warning, he smashed his lips against yours, devouring you as his cock rubbed against you harder, in a much friendless pace. Trying to suck the soul out of you, muffling any sounds you might let out.

One of his hands on the side of your thigh, rubbing it up and down and sending chills down your spine. His tongue in your mouth and you can't hold it together for much longer.

Wrapping your hands around him, you left out a broken whine, that only got to him. You were so close to your release, he could practically pull that orgasm out of you if he's trying a little bit harder. But he'll be merciful tonight, mostly because he'll lose his mind if he doesn't.

You didn't lasted much longer, and seeing you cum makes him want to cum. And man, he came all over your belly, breathing heavily and resting his head against your shoulder.

"You did good." you said, going with your hand through his hair.

For a moment, he allowed you to praise him, closing his eyes and bathing in your scent and you kept petting him. But it didn't lasted for long because he came back to his senses, getting off you and helping you clean yourself.

He still can't believe he came that hard from nothing. If he stayed in your arms for any more longer he would have screw everything up. Even if he wants to leave you alone, run out your room and don't look back at it at least until tomorrow, he stayed. Watching you fall asleep before he left quietly, doing the walk of shame to his room and rethinking his whole life and everything he did wrong until then.

#jjk smut #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto smut #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #jjk geto #suguru geto #geto x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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writersblockiskillingme · 7 hours ago

Text

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

#Spotify #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #squid game spoilers #squid game salesman #the salesman #the salesman x reader #salesman x reader #the salesman x fem!reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #angst #hurt/angst

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littlemissaiko · 15 hours ago

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Sneak peak of the first chapter because why not 🥰🥰

You swing to a high roof, the highest you can find, for the view of the shitty city you have to protect now . sitting down on the edge, you let your legs dangle, looking at the very gray (very comfortable looking. atleast from this height) asphalt on the street below. You're holding a small paper bag with takeout inside, Inhaling deeply, to smell it in all its unhealthy glory before opening it. A perfect-well, not really, cause of the moving andswinging, it might have gotten a little messed up, but it's still perfectly eat-able! You hope...

You take the burger out, a classic, iconic, simple, and delicious cheeseburger. The type that makes you pause for a second while wondering if you should really put something like this in your body before you say fuck it and eat it anyways. You disable your mask, freeing your face for the first time in a couple of hours

"Karen? Can you play one of the voice messages from the 'favorites' folder? Or a video, whichever works, as long as mister stark is in it..." you take the wrapper off of the cheeseburger and a mechanical voice rings out through the quiet-as quiet a crime ridden city with sirens playing in the background 24/7 like Christmas music in malls during December-can get. Obviously.

"Playing, 'happy birthday kid' sent on ------ at 1:31 A.M"

You let out a huff of amusement, mixed with tiredness, taking a bite of the burger

"Kind of ironic isn't it... almost like a bad joke?" You scoff "...Happy birthday, mister Stark" your voice cracks a little before going going silent at the end, just then, a message that was sent to your suit when you were on patrol starts playing, and another voice starts talking.

"I was planning on telling you later, after school hours, but then i saw someone on youtube livestreaming 'the spider patroling and fighting #onlyinnewyork!' despite there being a weather warning sent out, honestly kid!- when will you start taking care of yourself?!

I have a lot more to say, but I won't, for the sake of my sanity, and for the sake of today. I had Happy make some reservations at a new restaurant that opened near your apartment, so your aunt can also join us. 7 pm, don't be late. Happy birthday, kid. I'll see you later, don't stay out too late and take care-"

The recording is cut off, followed by a sound that sounds like a choked sob, but not quiet there. You try to calm yourself, taking a deep breath in. 'Four seconds in, eight seconds out. Four seconds in-'

You can't afford to panic here. There's so much left to be done... but at the same time, that gaping hole in your chest, in your heart. It hurts more then any wound you've ever had. It leaves you feeling incomplete, you desperately want to fill that space with warmth, comfort, home...

'I can't- I shouldn't...' You can't risk more people getting hurt. Not again. Never again. Your heart wants you to pull yourself together and seek comfort in the arms of someone, anyone... but at the same time your mind is screaming at you to make sure not to let anyone in, to keep everyone, no matter how strong, at arm's length.

"I'm tired mister Stark..." the sky is faintly visible. A rare occasion for Gotham, or so you've heard, you haven't really had the time for stargazing in the recent past. It might just be the loneliness talking, or you may have finally lost your mind and started hallucinating, but the stars seem to twinkle a little brighter then before.

EXCUSE MY AMATEURISH WRITING IT'S MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS 🙏🙏

This thing has been picking away at my mind for I don't know how long and it's killing me inside that there isn't already a fic like this

Imagine spider!reader coming to the DCU after the event of no way home. Like after they defeated everyone? reader asks strange to send them to another world without any spider-people AND making everyone in their og world forget who they are?

They got more trauma (✨️) and don't want to hurt the people around them anymore, so they land in Gotham.

Imagine spider!reader still having their suit along with Karen. Imagine the potential ANGST of spider!reader sitting on a rooftop eating a classic American cheeseburger while asking Karen to play videos of Tony?

Imagine this teenager, who has just kind of given up and only holds back for the sake of not killing people.

Imagine the reaction of the other vigilantes of Gotham when they see this meta(?)human who is going by the name of spider.

Imagine their reaction when it's a homeless teenager orphan 👌

Imagine spider!reader doesn't come with batfam because they don't trust anyone enough to share their identity because of what happened when they trusted Mysterio?

IMAGINE 😭

#batfam x reader #batfam #dc x reader #spider!reader #first time writing 😔#really sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes

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mytherapyisreading14 · 5 hours ago

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Magic Tricks

Summary: You are celebrating Henry’s birthday but when Spencer shows some magic tricks, his hands quickly become a distraction to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, kissing, dirty talk, hand kink, praise kink, choking, fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all)

Word Count: 3,5k

Authors Note: This is the first time I wrote smut, so please let me know if I forgot any warnings/ if there’s anything to improve! Hope you enjoy :)

It's a sunny afternoon, the garden is full of life and everyone came to celebrate Henry's birthday today. Henry is currently sitting on a small wooden bench surrounded by his friends while Spencer shows them his favorite magic tricks. He lets cards slide through his fingers, pulls handkerchiefs out of the air and amazes the children - especially Henry, who sits there with his eyes wide open almost the entire time.

"What do you think, Henry? Ready for something you've never seen before?" Spencer stands in front of the boy and raises his hands, which start to intertwine in a fluid movement. “Yes, definitely!" Henry says enthusiastically.

Spencer quickly brings one of his hands down and pulls a glittering ring out of the air, which immediately appears in his other hand. "Look here, Henry, it's really easy,” Spencer says with a wink. “Wooooow!" the children shout in unison and Henry claps euphorically.

You, sitting next to Penelope on another bench, are also completely fascinated - but you're not just looking at the ring or the tricks. Your gaze keeps wandering to Spencer, to his hands to be precise, which performed the magic with such precision. It's not just the art of magic that captivated you, but also the man himself.

How skillfully his fingers move, how naturally he juggled the small objects - all of this makes your thoughts drift away. The fact that you’ve been in love with him for years now makes it even worse. You imagine how his hands would touch you, how he would hold you when...

You suddenly hear your name and flinch. You didn't even really hear him talking to you, as your thoughts were far away from the magic trick. "Are you even listening to me?" Spencer asks. "Why are you staring at my hands all the time?" You freeze. Suddenly you are so aware of the situation that you almost feel like everyone in the circle is watching you.

Your cheeks turn red. "Uh... I... I just wanted to know how the trick works," you stammer. Penelope, who is sitting right next to you, couldn't help but giggle and whispered to you: "Sure, that must have been the reason..."

"Yes! Exactly," you answer way too quickly. "I... wanted to find out how you did it!" Spencer looks at you for a while, then nods. „Sometimes, it's better if you don't understand the trick," he says with a mysterious smile. "Otherwise the real magic is lost." You try not to blush any more. "Of course, that's true," you murmur and try to relax. Penelope, who is watching the whole situation with a grin, giggles quietly.

Spencer turns back to his magic tricks, but his gaze keeps wandering over to you. You try to look away from his hands now, but unfortunately it's all to no avail. You find yourself looking at his hands and your thoughts wandering in another direction, and Penelope, noticing this, nudges you teasingly with her elbow. "Looks like our genius is enchanting you even more today than usual," she says.

To get out of the situation and keep a clear head, which is never possible around him, you stand up. "I'll get a drink," you mutter. "Good idea," Penelope says with a cheeky grin as you walk towards the house. The other children are busy watching the magic tricks again, but you can't shake the thought of Spencer.

His hands, which unleashed the magic so precisely and elegantly, preoccupied you much more than you would like to admit. You wonder what else he could do with those hands - if it wasn't just about magic tricks.

Spencer, who is busy with the children and their enthusiasm, casts a quick glance at Penelope, who looks at him with an amused smile. He goes over to her while the children continue to marvel and chat. Spencer casts a glance in the direction you went and then wonders if he missed something. “Tell me, Penelope,” Spencer begins, “do you also think she was acting a bit strange just now?”

Penelope laughs. "Oh, come on, Spencer. She was completely distracted." Spencer raises his eyebrow. "By my hands?" he asks, now slightly amused and curious. "Why?" Penelope looks at him and then grins widely. "Well, because she... watched pretty closely how you used them. She was completely fascinated," she explains.

“Fascinated?" Spencer repeats, now even more confused. "And what's so fascinating about that?" Penelope shakes her head and laughs softly. "Come on, you genius, do you really have no idea?" She clicks her tongue and looks at him with an expression that was almost too good-natured to be serious. "Um... no, not really," Spencer replies, looking at her confused. "Explain it to me."

Penelope raises her hands in an innocent gesture. "You're a genius, you should be smart enough to figure that out on your own." She winks at him and then stands up. "I'm going over to the others. Use your clever head properly," she says and then walks towards the house. Spencer ponders, the explanation has triggered something in him, but he still can't quite figure out what exactly Penelope meant.

Then he decides to tell Morgan - who is standing on the other side of the garden - about the previous conversation. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that he had to understand it. He walks quickly towards Morgan, who is just getting a beer from a cooler.

“Hey, Morgan," Spencer says, stepping next to him. "You didn't happen to notice what just happened, did you?" Morgan looks at him with a grin when he hears the question. He laughs quietly and takes a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, I noticed. She couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time.”

Spencer suddenly feels a little embarrassed. "What exactly do you mean by that? She was just a little distracted by the tricks. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, still grinning widely. "So you're really the only one who doesn't notice, huh?" Morgan asks. "Notice what?" Spencer replies. "Well, if you don't understand..." Morgan says, laughing again. "She's in love with you, pretty boy. That's what's going on."

Spencer is so surprised that he just sits there speechless for a moment. "You really think she's in love with me?" Morgan laughs again. "Um, yeah? Have you never noticed how she acts when you're around? How nervous she gets?" Spencer blinks as he thinks about it. He actually hasn't noticed that you sometimes act differently around him.

He thought about the tricks and the magic all the time, but never about the fact that you might be interested in him for another reason - something much more personal. He tried to push the thought away, but something inside him wouldn't let it go. He wanted this - you - for years and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up now. This has to be a misunderstanding, there is no way you are actually interested in him like that.

Deep down, he's wondering if he was really that blind. And what if Morgan was right? What if you actually feel more for him? He looks around again, glancing at you. Spencer puts the thought aside for now - but he knows he can't shake it off so easily. He feels like he can't ignore the whole situation any longer. After talking to Morgan, he realized a lot of things, but he really needed to talk to you to understand them. He has no idea how you would react.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid Spencer for the rest of the evening. You can't be near him without imagining what his hand would feel like around your neck or between your legs. But since Spencer is so popular with the kids and they can't get enough of him and his magic tricks, it's fortunately easier than you think to avoid him. But you still often feel his gaze on you and it makes you nervous.

Later that evening, after most of the guests have already left, you help JJ bring in a few glasses and bottles. You are just about to go back outside when Spencer comes towards you. "Hey," he says, but before you can even reply, Spencer pulls you aside and into the small guest room at the end of the hall. The door closes behind you and the atmosphere in the room is suddenly much more intimate.

“What's wrong?" you ask, still a little confused because he took you aside so suddenly. "You avoided me today," he says. You avoid his gaze so he doesn't see that you are blushing again and start babbling. "Henry and his friends were so impressed by you and your magic and it's his birthday, I didn't want to disturb you. JJ also needed help and I agreed to do that. We were both busy, so it's clear that we don't run into each other that often," you explain hastily.

“That's not true. You deliberately avoided me. And your mind was somewhere else. As if something was distracting you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “Why don’t you want to tell me what distracted you today?” he asks, looking down at you. Your heart is beating faster and faster and you are a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

You didn't expect Spencer to confront you with it. "Now you’re quiet. That's uncharacteristic of you. I think I'm making you nervous," he says. "I...uh," you start, but you're unable to form a sensible sentence. "I was just talking to Morgan and… now I know why you were looking at my hands like that." You look at him questioningly. "What?"

"You were looking at my hands," he says, "because you're in love with me." A laugh escapes you. Your reaction leaves Spencer startled, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, and for a moment he looks as if he's not sure what to make of it. "Is it because I'm wrong? I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable -"

But before he’s able to continue, you quickly grab his arm and pull him towards you. Your lips meet his, and for a moment everything else is forgotten. The kiss is gentle and at the same time full of emotions - as if you want to tell each other everything you never put into words. When you pull away from him, you look deep into his eyes and whisper “Morgan is right... I'm in love with you."

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if to make sure he heard you correctly. But before he can say anything, you quickly add, "But that wasn't the only reason I was staring at your hands," you tell him. "No?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What was the other reason?" he asks, and you can see in his eyes how eager he is to know. "I want to know."

You can see the sparkle in his eyes, the mixture of relief and curiosity, and for a moment you feel your heart beating a little bit faster. There's something you haven't told him yet, something you need to explain to him. But the look in his eyes melts your nervousness.

"I was looking at your hands," you begin, "because you use them in a way I've never seen before. Your movements are so precise, so... controlled. It's not just magic, Spencer. I want to know what else they can do." Spencer is silent for a moment, and then you see a slight smile appear on his face. “So, you're looking at my hands because you want to know what else they can do?" he asks. "Yes," you answer quietly, "but also because I just can't get enough of you."

“I don’t want you to get enough of me. Ever. Because I am in love with you too. For quite a while now. Since the day you sat down on the jet next to me and challenged me to play chess, to be more exact,” he says and leans forward to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

A gasp escapes your mouth and Spencer takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rushing through your body and you press yourself even closer against him, reaching for his hand. His eyes follow every move with a curious look. You take his hand and slowly guide it to your neck.

His mind slows for a minute and then he finally understands. “That’s what you‘ve been fantasizing about earlier. My hands exploring your body. Me choking you. Haven‘t you?“ he asks and you nod. His eyes darken and you can see the lust sparkling in them.

His hand now wraps around your neck entirely and he squeezes gently. “More,” you whisper. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer says with a concerned look on his face before he tightens the grip on your neck. “Yes Spence, of course,” you breath out before getting distracted by his hand sliding up your inner thigh.

His hand is now under your skirt, running over your panties. “Can I touch you?” Spencer asks and you pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear. “Of course you can, Spence. I need you to touch me. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever. I’m all yours.” You kiss slowly down his neck, then nibbling on his skin to mark him with a hickey.

That’s all Spencer needs to hear. His hand pulls your panties to the side and he grazes your clit with his finger to tease you. “Spence, please. Touch me,” you whimper and he chuckles. “Someone’s eager. Fantasizing about my hands got you worked up, am I right, sweetheart?” he asks, finally touching your clit with his thumb. Your only respond is a moan and you press down on his finger to show him you need more.

“I barely touched you and you’re already soaked,” he says as he runs his finger through your folds. “Only… only for you, Spence,” you manage to say and slide your hands up to his shirt to open the buttons, taken off guard when he pushes a finger inside you. Your knees are trembling and you have to hold yourself against his body in order to stay up.

“Spence, that’s so - it feels so good… I - I need more, please,” you whine and he pushes another finger inside you. He reaches all the spots you never could and you’re a moaning mess, rocking yourself against his hand. “Good girl,” he praises you and it takes you off guard. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles. “You like that, didn’t you? Me calling you a good girl. So praise kink and hand kink, let’s find out what else you’re into.”

You didn’t expect to hear such words from him. He is always the sweet, gentle and unassuming genius when you are around him, but now, that both of you snapped, finally giving in into your desires, he shows you a completely different side of him, one you’re more then excited to discover. It turns you on immensely.

He squeezes your throat more and pumps his fingers faster, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and it doesn’t take long for you to come on his hand. You hold yourself steady against him with trembling knees while he is busy running his hands down your shirt, tugging at your bra and squeezing your breasts. You help him taking off your shirt while he’s guiding you to the bed.

He unclasps you bra skilfully and pulls down your skirt and underwear in one motion, before he pushes you down onto the bed. His gazes wanders over your body and he licks his lips. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” he says before he leans forward to kiss down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while squeezing the other one.

You arch your back and slide your hands up to his shirt again to go back to unbuttoning it, after you got interrupted earlier by Spencer giving you so much pleasure that you were unable to continue your actions. You pull his shirt off and run your fingers over his body.

Spencer slowly kisses down your tummy now, reaching your inner thighs where he sinks his theeth into the sensitive skin, sucking the spot to leave a hickey there before he gently kisses it and leans back to admire his work. It earns him another moan from you and he and grins. “So you like marking me, huh?” you decide to tease him back. “You are in no position to tease, darling,” he says with a mischievous grin before he presses his mouth against your cunt, licking a strip up your folds.

Your hands reach for his hair immediately, pressing him closer to you while he devours you like a man starved. Your whimpers are music to his ears and he can’t get enough of you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says before he dives back in. You lift your hips to press more against his mouth but he holds you down with his arm. “No, you have to stay still and take what I give you, do you understand?” he asks and you nod.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “Words, sweetheart,” he simply says and you need to concentrate to form a sentence. “I - oh… yes, I understand,” you manage to breath out and he goes back to eating you out, his grip firm on your hips to keep you still. You never felt this kind of pleasure and when you look down and see him devouring you completely, it becomes too much, you come again moaning his name.

Spencer comes up between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his lips and you pull him down to kiss him again. You taste yourself on his lips and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slides down to his pants and you open them with shaky hands, pulling them down. “Need you now, Spence. Please,” you tell him. “You need me that badly?” You nod. “Yes, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He takes off his boxers and your eyes widen, he is bigger than you expected. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your folds a few times to tease you. Then he pushes in and you moan his name. He claps his hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Shh, as much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, you have to keep quiet,” he says.

From the lack of movement you are feeling right now you were sure he’s giving you time to adjust. When you feel ready you lift your hips to show him. He starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot with every thrust. “You feel so good, so warm and wet just for me,” he says and feels you clenching around him.

It feels even better than you imagined. He’s big, but it’s not uncomfortable and you want more. “Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder now,” you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat again.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?” he asks, squeezing until you see stars. “Yes, oh god - Spence. Feels so good,” you moan, already feeling another orgasm building up, gripping the arm around your neck for support.

Spencer, who can feel how close you are increases the speed and thrusts even faster and deeper inside of you. Your body is on fire and when Spencer starts to apply pressure to your already sensitive clit, you feel like you’re going to explode. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my cock,” he says and his permission is all you need to let go.

Spencer fucks you through your orgasm, also close to reaching his own now. “Fuck, I need to come inside of you. Can I, Sweetheart?” he asks, his thrusts getting sloppier. “Yes, in- Inside me,” you say and he finishes a few thrusts later. When he pulls out you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, but you don’t mind. He collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks you while he plays with your hair. “Yes, that’s was amazing,” you say and give him a peck on the lips before you cuddle closer to him, gently stroking his hair. He looks down to you. “Do you have to get the morning after pill? I can get it for you,” he says and you smile. “I’m on the pill, Spence, but thank you anyway,” you say and give him a kiss.

You stay in bed cuddling but after a while you speak up. “I would love to cuddle with you all evening, but I think we need to go back out soon, the others are probably already looking for us,” you say and he nods. “A few more minutes. I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he says and you smile. “I love you,” you say and he smiles back. “I love you too.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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faynthearted · 2 days ago

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a/n: a drabble for @beautifulboysbeingbusy, who requested tianshan talking about loved ones they've lost during the holidays, and @faery-moss, who requested morning cuddles and tianshan's first Christmas together. enjoy! <3

----

When he was younger, Guan Shan never slept on Christmas Eve. He’d try, but the excitement, the anticipation, would fuel him the entire week leading up to Christmas. He’d lay in bed until the first rays of sunlight fell into his bedroom, then he’d race to wake up his parents. They always woke with a smile as he climbed into their bed.

Now, He Tian smiles as he lies in Guan Shan’s bed.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs against Guan Shan’s lips when he wakes, still sleep heavy. “I think your mom is already up. I heard the sink running.”

“Yeah,” Guan Shan mumbles, wrapping around him. He’s warm and too big for a twin sized mattress. Guan Shan has never complained about it. “She likes to make breakfast right away on holidays."

“It smells sweet.”

“It’s stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit on top. Since you’re here, she’ll probably pull out all the stops and make muffins, too.”

He Tian hums, pleased. “I must admit I feel awfully special whenever I come over,” he says. “I should’ve brought her another gift.”

“God, no,” Guan Shan tells him, because he already helped He Tian wrap two presents for her the other day: a gold necklace and a scarf. They're sitting under the small tree in the living room. Anything more and she would begin to ask Guan Shan more questions than she already does. Guan Shan is beginning to run out of ways to tell her that yes, He Tian is a very good friend, and no, Guan Shan doesn’t know what his parents do for work.

He Tian huffs a laugh. He’s in good spirits already, eyes bright and hands warm as he shifts their weight, settling on top of Guan Shan.

Guan Shan lets him kiss him, but a few moments in, He Tian pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Guan Shan shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He Tian’s touch lingers on his side. Waiting.

Eventually, Guan Shan breathes out. There's an awful dread building in his throat. He says, “Tell my mom that breakfast was good after we’re done eating. Even if it wasn't, tell her it was."

“Of course I will,” He Tian says and Guan Shan doesn't doubt it. “I’m sure it will be good. I’ve had her cooking before. Is she— is it usually not good?”

Bringing up his hands, Guan Shan presses them into his eyes. “No,” he mumbles, “it’s good. But just tell her that it is anyway, okay? Don't make a big deal out of it, but make a point of it at least."

“Okay.” After a moment, He Tian’s fingers wrap around his, pulling them down. “What’s wrong, ah-Shan? What’s this about?”

Guan Shan swallows. He’s had an awful pit in his stomach since yesterday, though he’d done a well enough job of hiding it. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe He Tian saw right through it the entire time. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at him like this.

He Tian's smile is gone now and Guan Shan feels stupidly selfish.

“My dad used to be in charge of Christmas breakfast," Guan Shan says, looking away. "He always made the same thing. The french toast. Breakfast was the first thing we'd do once we all woke up. And it— it’s fucking impossible not to be reminded of that every year. It ruins everything for me. My mom got the recipe from him and she’s always done a good job since he’s been gone, but…”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. If he was a better person, he’d be able to say that the breakfasts are now a tribute to his father. That they're a piece of him that Guan Shan and his mother get to honor and carry with them, but it's always felt more like a gaping wound that never closed. When it’s just him and his mom sharing breakfast each year, they make light of the situation, but there’s always an inevitable lapse of silence that’s impossible to ignore.

Today will be the first time in nine years that there’s a third person at the table. Guan Shan wants He Tian here — he asked him to be here — but he doesn’t want to endure the suffocation of another holiday. He doesn’t want He Tian to see the evidence of Guan Shan’s broken origins, laid out on a tablecloth with ceramic plates and silverware.

It’s Christmas. They’re supposed to be grateful; happy. Bright and in good spirits, like He Tian.

After a minute, He Tian brings Guan Shan’s fingers to his lips.

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” He Tian starts, speaking against his skin, “because I didn’t want to… ruin the day, or make it about me. But I understand, Guan Shan. The impossibility, I mean. I got your mom the scarf because you said she’d like that color, but I got her the necklace because that’s what my mom asked for every year. A gold necklace. My brother would either get her matching earrings or a charm to add onto it and we’d wrap them in the same box. She loved it, but she died a couple weeks before Christmas one year. I was never able to give her that last necklace.”

He turns Guan Shan’s hand over, pressing a kiss to his palm. There's a pause, his eyes gone distant. Eventually, he lowers Guan Shan's hand.

“Christmas fucking sucks, sweetheart,” He Tian continues, offering a small, closed-lip smile. “I hate it. It's ruined for me, too. But that’s because I usually wake up alone, and I’m not expecting a nice breakfast, and I don’t have a mother to give a necklace. It’s different this year even if it’s not exactly what I had as a kid. It won’t get easier, but it can get better. You’re showing me that. I want to do the same for you.”

They hold each other's gaze. A pot clangs in the kitchen, muffled through the walls. Guan Shan thinks he can hear his mother humming a holiday song. It makes his eyes sting.

He pulls He Tian back down to him, and they lay in bed as the smell of blueberry muffins wafts under his bedroom door.

#19 days #tianshan #my writing #my adult apathy towards the holidays really shows in this. i miss being a kid.

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phantomwithbreakfast · 2 days ago

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✩ ~ If You Know, You Know ~ ✩

If you’re adrift in your own vivid, imaginary world, you know. If your mind doesn’t follow the typical pathways, you know.

(A kind of animated thing at the end of this)

———————

The sunlight stretched long fingers through my window, spilling warm streaks across the cluttered floor. Paints, pencils, and half-finished sketches surrounded me, a small fortress of creative chaos. I was deep into it—lost in the rhythm of sketching lines that might, just might, lead somewhere—when Danny appeared.

At first, he was just a shadow in the corner of my eye, a faint blur of movement. But then, as if the sunlight solidified him, he stood there, leaning casually against the wall like he’d always been a part of this room.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he teased me, that lopsided grin of his making me smile despite myself.

I waved him off, pretending I was drawing. “What do you think, genius?”

Danny didn’t answer.

Of course, he didn’t.

He never gave me that satisfaction. So instead, he plopped himself on my desk chair and began whistling.

“Do you mind?” I asked, feigning irritation.

He shrugged. “Not really.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to concentrate, but Danny had other plans. He started tapping his fingers on my desk, drumming out some rhythm that had no beginning and no end. When that didn’t get a rise out of me, he started humming—soft at first, then louder, adding lyrics that made absolutely no freaking sense.

“Danny!”

“What? You looked like you needed a break.”

“I don’t.”

“You sure?” He grinned wider and reached over to nudge one of my pencils off the desk. It clattered to the floor, joining the others he’d already scattered.

This was the thing about Danny. He didn’t come when I needed him, not really. He came when I thought I didn’t need anyone. He came when I was so buried in my own mind—in every single way possible—that I didn’t notice the sunlight anymore or the way the world felt alive outside these four walls.

If you know, you know. If you’re the kind of person whose head is so full of ideas it feels like it might burst, you know what it’s like to have a Danny. Someone that pulls you out of your own brain and reminds you there’s more to life than the next line, the next stroke, the next brilliant thought.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed, setting my pencil down. “You win.”

Danny lit up like I’d handed him a trophy. “Excellent choice.”

He flopped onto the floor beside me against the wall, staring up at the ceiling like he was seeing constellations in the cracks of the plaster.

“So, what are we working on today?” He asked.

“I am working,” I corrected. “You are distracting.”

“Same difference.”

He turned his head to grin at me, and for a slight moment, I forgot all about the mess, the deadlines, the pressure.

It didn’t matter that Danny would probably be gone in a few hours, fading back into wherever he came from. What mattered was that right now, he was here. Pulling me out of myself, turning my messy little room into something brighter, something more alive.

And maybe that was the point of Danny. He wasn’t here to stay. He was here to remind me that sometimes, it’s okay to put the pencil down and just exist.

For a while, we just sat there, watching the sunlight move across the walls, filling the silence with his whistling and my laughter.

Again, if you know, you know.

———————

When my full hyper-fixated ADHD brain kicks in, this happens. Most of the time it’s just Phantom that shows up though, not Danny as Fenton. (I was doubting to post this, but yeah. I did it anyway)

———————

—OC: Hailey.

I’m that kind of a Phan… (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ⋆˙⟡♡

Please, tell me I’m not the only one for Danny’s sake…

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rhiannonsknife · 2 days ago

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⋆₊❅. — have yourself a merry little christmas

angst & hurt/comfort. secret relationship. gn!reader.

you find shauna by the windowsill, the bright morning light filtering through the frost-covered glass casting soft shadows across her face. her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, her gaze distant as she stares out at the snow-covered woods that surround the cabin. the place is unusually quiet, with most of the others still asleep, their breaths mingling in the cold air.

for a moment, you hesitate. she looks so oddly small, so lost that it stirs something deep inside you: memories of the life you shared back home. you were hers once, in secret: shared kisses in the backseat of her car, fingers brushing during practice, the quiet nights when it was just the two of you. you hadn’t officially ended things when the plane went down, the wilderness had done it for you. between the secrets, the fear, and everything else this place demanded, you’d drifted apart without a word without ever talking things through.

“shauna,” you say softly before you can overthink it, slowly stepping closer. she doesn’t flinch and her eyes flicker toward you.

you sit down beside her, careful to keep enough distance so she doesn’t feel cornered, but close enough that she knows you’re there. “it’s christmas,” you tell her gently, your breath visible in the chill of the cabin as you get straight to the point, half expecting shauna to barely acknowledge it at all.

instead, her brows knit together, a flash of confusion crossing her face. “what?”

“today,” you say again. “it’s december 25th. christmas day!”

shauna blinks, her lips parting slightly as if she’s about to say something, but no words come. “i’ve been keeping track,” you explain, pulling a small, makeshift calendar from your pocket. the paper is torn from scraps you’ve found over the months, but the marks are precise, each day carefully counted. “i didn’t want us to forget. birthdays, holidays, anything important. i just…thought maybe it would help, you know?”

for all the time you’ve spent together back home, shauna feels like a stranger now, just the ghost of the girl you fell in love with.

“you’ve been doing this the whole time?” she asks then, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nod, nervously fidgeting with the edge of the paper. “yeah. i thought it mattered. especially today.”

“christmas,” shauna repeats, the word sounding almost foreign on her tongue, like it belongs to another world entirely.

“it’s still christmas,” you tell her softly, bracing to be met with her usual rejection. “even here,”

to your surprise, shauna turns toward you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “it doesn’t feel like it,” she admits, her voice trembling. “nothing feels like it used to…”

you heart aches at her words. you remember the way things used to be: the way she’d sneak out to meet you, the way her hand would linger on yours just a second too long when no one was watching too closely. you wonder if she ever thinks about it, or if the wilderness has swallowed those memories whole, the same way it has taken so much else from you both.

“it doesn’t,” you agree quietly, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “but maybe it can still mean something? even if it’s not the same?”

shauna looks down at your hand before she slowly intertwines her fingers with yours. her grip is hesitant at first, but it tightens after a moment.

“we used to talk about christmas,” she says after a long pause. it’s the first time she brings up the way things used to be. you could listen to her for hours if she’d speak of it more often, curl up in the warmth of her voice and the memories of what was before. “back home. what it would be like when…when we didn’t have to sneak around anymore,”

“i remember,” you say quietly. “i remember everything.”

her breath hitches, and for the first time, the walls she’s been holding up seem to crumble. without warning, she leans into you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body trembling with barely restrained sobs. instinctively, likes she’s never left your arms at all, you pull her into your embrace.

“i miss her,” shauna whispers. “i miss jackie i miss home. i miss…everything”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just wrap your arm around her, holding her closer as her tears soak into your shirt. “i know,” you murmur, your hand gently stroking her hair. “i miss it all too.”

after a moment, shauna pulls back just enough to look up at you, her cheeks flushed and tear streaked. there’s a moment of hesitation, a question lingering, before she finally leans in and presses a trembling kiss to your lips. it’s hesitant at first, but deepens, once you fall back into the way things used to be.

when she pulls away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “thank you,” she whispers. “for remembering. for being here”

“always” you promise when shauna falls back into your arms, allowing you to hold her while the others sleep.

i wrote this while being overstimulated at the christmas function, so enjoy 🤗🤗

#˙ ❆ ̟ !! ─ christmas works #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x female reader #shauna shipman x fem!reader #shauna shipman x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

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totallyanopossum · 1 day ago

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COD, Ghost, drabble

The new tech will look good in my clothes

Maybe I'll make a part 2

She was great, maybe a bit too enthusiastic about her job but no one could say she wasn't effective. Her job saved it and became her passion. Joining the military, becoming a special operator got her away from her horrid family and let her work out some deep rooted anger issues,so when her knee messed up permanently it hits hard that she can't serve anymore and can't kill anymore. While stuck recovering she wonders if life is even worth it but she never gave up before she's not gonna start now.

After healing from her injury she goes to her old captain asking for any job she can get he sends her to see squad 141 maybe she can be tech or assistant for them. She goes with hope. She gets there and meets with captain Price, her old captain called him and talked her up and her situation. Price says “I could use a tech opp. It's not field work but we are always busy here with top jobs”. She takes the position, she's in an office but she still gets to contribute and that's gonna have to be enough

She meets the guys as they come and go, some drop off gathered Intel, others come to pick up intel files from her. A big guy called Ghost has even brought her tea. It was nice even though he doesn't speak more than 3 words tops.

It's stormy today and there's also a group meeting, so as she goes to the conference room her knee pain is increasing and she limps a bit to take weight off. She doesn't have an ace bandage with her, the storm came out of nowhere. Ghost sees her limp to her seat, after the meeting he stops her and asks what's wrong, she explains rain makes her old injury hurt and she doesn't have an ace bandage. Not long after she's gets back to her office, Ghost comes in and hands her bandages and pain killer, she thanks him, he says “visits the medic if you ever need something.”

She works late sometimes cause deadlines or cause she gets invested and forgets about time. Ghost forgot something in his office and went to get it. He saw the light on under your door and knocked to see if you were there or if the light was left on. The knock startles you and you say “come in”, he comes in “what are you still doing here this late”, she looks at the clock,“shit it is I didn't realize ... uhh fuck”. She rubs at her face and starts looking for her keys. “You shouldn't drive this late just stay here”,”I don't have a room here”, “follow me”.She grabs her bag and follows him, he slows his pace to accommodate her short legs and limp.

He pulls a key ring and opens the door on the first try, he turns on the lights. “it's unoccupied but stocked with basics” ,he pulls off the key and hands it to her, “you should have a room here anyways”, “thank you lieutenant”, “goodnight” he walks away. She checks out the room, she finds a change of clothes, they are big but will work to sleep, there's an attached bath she washes up, changes and gets in the bed. It's not very soft but she's tired and it works and she falls asleep.

She wakes in the morning and the new surroundings confuse her for a minute but she remembered what happened, but now she's concerned about getting breakfast. They must serve it in the mess hall. She'd eaten lunch there a few times. Her just woken confused brain heads to the mess hall still in the big army clothes. She finds it pretty empty, she gets food and sits. Soap walks in and does a double take seeing her, he stops by her table and says “am I seeing things”, she says “nope or we both are”. Ghost comes in and sees soap sitting with her when he sees her wearing army basics that are way too big he thinks how she's so cute like that. He sits with them and asks “how's the room?”, “blankets could be softer but was good got real confused when I woke up though”, “ you slept here?”, “no I just came here really early to enjoy the breakfast and put on army regs way too big for me”. Ghost huffs a laugh, she explains “I lost track of time yesterday and ghost gave me a room.. might not be too bad staying here actually”. Ghost hopes this happens more often just so he can see her in those big clothes, he makes a mental note to slip some of his clothes in there.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #fluff #writter #call of duty #call of duty fic #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost drabble #drabble #cod drabble

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jessicaloons · 1 day ago

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INVISIBLE STRING: FROM THE VAULT

Part 3: A Christmassy story…

Masterlist

Merry Christmas everyone 🎄🎅🏻♥️

Better late than never! As it is during Christmas, it all gets a little hectic and what I wanted to post last night had to be postponed to today… it’s a little something I started to write a year ago, at Christmas, while watching one of my all time favourite Christmas movies.

And now no more talking, here it is…

Christmas 2027:

"Radiation?" Joris cocked an eyebrow.

"Radiation." I shrugged my shoulders and he chuckled "Don’t ask. It’s- it’s her newest ick…"

"You’re surrounded by radiation the entire day with having your phone with you? So where’s the difference at ni-…"

"That’s exactly the point. Your body is exposed to radiation all day long, so at night, when it resets, there shouldn’t be any radiation!" Lizzie’s voice rang out behind us, making Joris flinch "I’ve read it in various magazines! So it can’t be that wrong!"

I had to chuckle, looking at Joris’ petrified face when Lizzie glared at me, although I could see her eyes getting watery.

"It’s not funny!" her voice strained.

"It’s not, cara mia. You’re right. I’m sorry." I replied.

"I’m not crazy…" she sniffled a little and I felt bad.

"No, you’re not! I know that, okay?" I said immediately and got up from my seat, cupping her cheek and gently stroked the side of her bump "You’re doing everything to protect our babies… so whatever you think is best we’ll do! You’re an amazing mum, okay?"

She only nodded slightly and turned away, her shoulders slumped.

"I lay down for a bit…" she whispered and waddled off, taking a short look into Emmie’s room, before she continued to our bedroom.

"I swear I didn’t want to upset her!" Joris looked at me with big eyes and I sighed, sitting back down.

"Believe me, same. The last 2 or 3 days it’s been tough, she’s more emotional than usually…" I rubbed my temples, leaning back "One moment she’s happy and bubbly, the next moment she cries about how there’s only one apple left and that it might feel alone… and then she’s mad at herself for crying about such ridiculous things which makes her cry even more because she thinks I’m annoyed of her being an emotional mess… which is not true at all. I love it. I swear."

"You’re probably the only guy on earth who loves his pregnant wife’s mood swings." Joris laughed.

"It’s cute… when she’s this bubbly Lizzie, who turns over a jar she can’t open first super frustrated and then grumpy like never seen before and curses it like there’s no tomorrow, just to be sad the next moment that whatever’s in the jar is lost forever…"

"And then you chime in and save the day…" he wiggled with his eyebrows and I held up my hands.

"You know, not all heroes wear capes… but they still get a proper thank you… if you know what I mean…"

"Yeah. No. Gross…"

Right when I wanted to reply I heard the soft steps of Emmie and Arlo approaching and when I turned a little I saw them both walk around the corner.

"Dada? Mummy look sad?" her sweet little voice sounded truly concerned and I opened my arms, hoisting her up into my lap "Why mummy sad?"

"She’s not sad, Emmie. Just a little emotional."

"Emonal?" she repeated and I smiled.

"Emotional…" I said slowly, while she quietly said the word again "That’s when you feel all sorts of emotions… that’s feelings. Sad, happy, tired, funny, moody… and you just don’t know what’s the real feeling. So you get a little overwhelmed with emotions… it’s nothing bad. It happens. Especially when someone carries a baby, or like mummy two, in their belly…"

"Mummy feel for baby one and baby two?" Emmies eyes widened and I had to chuckle.

"Yes, my little princess, that’s exactly what mummy’s feeling. Her feelings and baby one and twos feelings."

"Lot of feelings!"

"Oh yes! A lot of feelings!" I nodded and she sighed, cuddling into my chest "You know what? Why don’t you help me and Joris make some hot chocolate for mummy?"

Emmie’s eyes lit up and she jumped off my lap, already pulling me up on my feet before she grabbed onto Joris hand, doing the same.

"Comes on, Jojo! Hot chotlat for mummy!" she chirped and pulled him with her.

"I’m coming, Emmie-bug." he laughed and picked her up, following me into the kitchen, where he sat her down on the kitchen island.

"Emmie hot chotlat, too!" she looked first at me and then at Joris with her big puppy eyes and I could melt away on the spot.

"Let’s make hot chocolate for us all, okay? And then we can watch a movie before bedtime, how does that sound?"

"No bedtime."

"Emmie, we have to get up early tomorrow! We’re leaving for Christmas!" I reminded her but she shook her head.

"No bedtime." she repeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"No bedtime means no Christmas, and no Christmas means no pops and grams, no granny, no Liam or Elijah… no Arthi!"

"No Arthi?" Emmie whispered and I nodded.

"Also no presents…"

"Emmie like bedtime."

"Yeah?" I asked and she nodded.

"Bedtime comfy. Jojo read story?" she turned and looked at him "Pwease?"

"Of course, Emmie-bug. Every story you want!" he cooed at her and she clapped happily.

"Now chotlat for mummy!"

"Now chocolate for mummy."

"Charles?" Lizzie whispered and I turned a little, trying to make her out in the dark "I’m sorry…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping. I looked around, my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness and saw her perched against the headboard.

"For being over emotional… and unreasonable…" she said and I sat up to switch on the lamp on the night stand.

"Hey, you’re not over emotional or unreasonable!" I replied, rubbing my eyes, facing her.

"I am. The other day I cried because of a pair of socks I had to throw away since one of them had holes…"

"It was a nice pair of socks!"

"Charles…" Lizzie chuckled and I grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles "I’m serious! I feel like I’m way worse than when I was pregnant with Emmie!"

"Yeah of course! You’re carrying twins, cara mia! Double the trouble!"

"Is that why I could eat all the damn time? I’m always hungry…" she sighed and I laughed, looking at her pouting.

"And what does my pretty girl want right now?"

"Now? Oh… umm… I’m not hungry…" she looked away and I gently grabbed her chin, turning her head.

"Lizzie… I know you… it’s 1 am that’s your time… so, what can I get for you?" I stifled a yawn.

"I’m fine… you’re tired and we’ll be picked up early…" she mumbled but I shook my head.

"Pretty girl…" I scooted closer, cupping her cheek "What do you want? Fruits? Something salty? Ice cream? A burger?"

"Some sour gums and-… it’s weird, because usually I don’t like them… salt and vinegar crisps? Do we have that?"

"On it…" I pecked her lips and shuffled out of the bed, stretching as soon as I stood up "Anything else?"

"Umm… one of these strawberry lemonades maybe?"

"Anything my pretty girl wants." I said, grabbing my sweatpants that got stuck somehow and I pulled harder almost tripping over when I finally freed it.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie looked at me and I nodded.

"It got stuck somehow… I don’t know… get comfy I’ll be right back." I slipped on my pants and left our bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen I stopped at Emmie’s bedroom and took a look inside.

Our little girl tucked in under her blankets, Arlo guarding her, sleeping right in front of her bed. He must’ve felt my presence, lifting his head looking at me. He got up, yawned and then trotted over, tilting his head.

"All good, Arlo. Just me." I whispered, kneeling down "Go watch our little princess." I stroked his fluffy fur, scratched his ears before he stretched “Ohhh big stretch! Good boy." I scratched his ears and got up "Go back to sleep…" he turned around and walked away, plopping down back at his old spot.

I rummaged through the pantry, grabbing everything Lizzie graved and trotted back to our bedroom, where a big smile spread over her face as soon as she saw me walk in.

"I can already taste the lemonade…" she made grabby hands and I laughed, handing her the can of lemonade and the crisps and sour gums.

I climbed in bed next to her, lying down and watching how she happily scrunched up her nose as soon as she ate the first sour gum, closing her eyes savouring the taste.

"Remind me to pack strawberry lemonade, salt and vinegar crisps and sour patch kids…" I yawned.

"I’m so excited for Christmas, our last without the twins… next year we’re already a family of 6…" Lizzie whispered and I cocked an eyebrow.

"6?"

"6…"

"Of course… Arlo…"

"I told you he’s our first born." Lizzie’s happy giggling made me smile and I nodded.

"You’re right. He is. And he’s an amazing big brother, guarding his little sister."

"He’s a good boy." she happily munched and I smiled, yawning again "You can sleep… you don’t have to stay awake with me…"

"Yeah?" I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Yeah…" Lizzie replied and leaned down, kissing my cheek "Thank you…"

"You need anything else?" I asked but she shook her head.

"No. We’re all good now. Sleep, pretty boy."

I didn’t know if I replied or not, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

An annoying ringing inside my head. But was it inside my head? I groaned and turned around, Lizzie next to me fast asleep, the ringing that definitely wasn’t just inside my head didn’t seem to bother her.

"Dada… make it stop…" Emmie rubbed her eyes, stumbling to our bed, her hair her a hot mess "Head owie!"

"I know…" I picked her up and sat her next to Lizzie "I’ll go…" I kissed her cheek and scrambled out of bed, looking for the source of the horrific sound. The door bell. And the landline phone. Both ringing at the same time. Just like my phone "What the hell?" I grabbed my phone and picked up "Hello?"

"Ah, Mr. Leclerc! Finally! I wanted to come up myself and look if everything is alright!" Matthieu, our concierge, said and the landline phone and door bell stopped ringing.

"Of course, everything’s alright? Why wouldn’t it be?" I was confused, looking around.

"There are two cars here to pick you up. They’ve been waiting for a while now and we tried to call you then-…"

"What?! But the cars should be here at 8?" I replied.

"Mr. Leclerc, it’s 8:30 am…"

"WHAT? What? How? I- what?" I checked the time at my phone and cursed "Oh shit… umm tell the drivers we’ll need a moment…"

"Can I send them up to get your bags?" Matthieu asked and I nodded.

"Yes. Everything is packed. All the bags are at the elevator…" I hastily walked back into our bedroom, pushing the buttons to open up the blinds.

"Alright. I’ll tell them." he hung up and I gently shook Lizzie.

"Cara mia? Wake up please… we need to get ready…"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, blinking a few times.

"The cars are already here… we need to get ready." I said again and her eyes shot open.

"What? But you set your alarm? What?" she scrambled up looking at Emmie next to her "Did we oversleep?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t hear the alarm. But that doesn’t matter. We need to get ready. Now. Come on." I pulled her gently off the bed and she sighed "I take care of Emmie, okay?"

"Hmm…" Lizzie mumbled and waddled away to the bathroom, yawning "Did you not set the alarm?"

"I did. I don’t know what happened…" I mumbled and picked up Emmie "Come on girlie, let’s get ready."

"Ready for Crimas!" she clapped her hands and I chuckled.

"Christmas. And no. Not quite yet. We have to get there first."

"To Christ-as?" she tried again.

"Almost, Christmas, with an 'm'… Christ- mas."

"Christ-mas." she repeated and I smiled.

"You got it right, Emmie! Good girl!" I sat her down on her bed and grabbed the clothes Lizzie had put out already "Now let’s get dressed and then we’ll have a little snack in the car, how does that sound?"

"Car?" she tilted her head, scrunching her nose.

"Yeah, we have to drive to the airport. And then we get into the jet to fly to Switzerland. To this big chalet in the mountains where all our family is waiting! To celebrate-…"

"Christmas!" she clapped excitedly and I nodded.

"Exactly! But we’re a little late. So we need to hurry up a little!"

"Houwy up! Houwy up!"

"That we have to! So let’s have a look. You look adorable, now we just need to take care of your hair and-…" I began when I saw Lizzie waddling towards the kitchen, still in her pyjamas "Alright… wait a minute…" I sat her down "You pack your sleep plushies into your backpack and play a little with Arlo, okay? I’ll be right back and make your hair." Emmie nodded and I followed Lizzie into the kitchen, finding her rummaging through the fridge "Lizzie?"

"Why is there no food?" she sniffled, turning around "I’m hungry. But there is nothing to eat. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Cara mia, we have breakfast in the jet, okay? It’s all prepared-…"

"But I’m hungry now!" she was grumpy "The babies and I are hungry now!"

"I understand, but we have nothing here, because we’re leaving now… we can stop at a bakery on the way?" I tried it again and she sighed.

"Okay… I go and take a shower…" she walked past me and I followed her.

"Cara mia, you don’t need to shower. We don’t have time. You can shower as soon as we arrive in the chalet…" I said carefully but she shook her head.

"I smell… I’m not arriving smelly for Christmas…"

"Technically it’s not Christmas yet, so… and also you don’t smell… you just had a bath last night and I can still smell your coconut butter on your skin, so please. Just get dressed and let’s go. The cars are waiting. For over half an hour now…"

"Then why didn’t you set the alarm?" she looked at me annoyed.

"I did! I don’t know why it didn’t went off! Stupid alarm clock…" I walked over to my night stand to find the alarm clock to be off, not plugged into the wall "What the… oh no… my sweatpants… fuck…" I mumbled, remembering the struggle I had at night with my pants "With my phone this wouldn’t have happen…" I groaned more to myself when a half naked Lizzie stepped out of the closet.

"What did you say?" she cocked an eyebrow and I held my hands up "Is it my fault now for protecting our babies? Last night you said I was the best mum because of it!" her bottom lip began to wobble and I hastily pulled her into me.

"And I meant it! Okay? It’s all good. Just-… please get ready. I feel bad for the drivers to wait this long because of me… and the jet and everything…" I whispered against the side of her head, kissing her temple.

"Okay. I’m almost done…" she breathed out "You need to get dressed yourself…"

"On it…"

15 minutes later I strapped Emmie into her seat and gave the driver the all clear to drive, although I had a feeling like we forgot something at home. I was nervously fidgeting with my phone next to Lizzie who happily munched on the croissant I got her from the bakery.

"What is it?" she asked after another minute of me nervously tapping my foot.

"I feel like we forgot something…" I mumbled, going over the list inside my head "I just don’t know what…"

"It can’t be important if you don’t remember it."

"I don’t know…" I looked outside the window, the car approaching the little private airport.

We had all of the bags, there was nothing left when we left the penthouse. I checked Emmie’s backpack and she had packed all her night plushies. Arlo laid on the floor in front of me, his bag with his toys and leashes in the back. Lizzie packer her bag with her books and computer last night herself and it rested now next to her on the seat. The bag with her snacks on the floor next to my feet. I couldn’t grasp what was missing but still I felt like it.

"Charles?" Lizzie grabbed my hand, squeezing it "We’ve got everything. It’s fine, you’ll see…"

"Yeah… I hope so…" I mumbled watching the car in front with our baggage stopping on the tarmac "It’s too late now anyways I guess…" I unbuckled Emmie and got out of the car, taking her with me. I helped Lizzie out of the car and she took Emmie from me, walking with Arlo towards the jet while I helped loading our baggage onto the cart, before I walked up the stairs of the jet myself.

"Welcome on board, Mr. Leclerc." the pilot shook my hand and I smiled.

"Thank you, and sorry for the delay… it got a little hectic this morning…"

"All good, Sir. Why don’t you take a seat and we’re preparing for take off."

"Thank you." I took off my jacket, handing it to the flight attendant who stored it away.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she smiled and I shook my head, sitting down on front off Lizzie, Emmie next to her on the seat, looking outside the window.

I leaned my head back. Closing my eyes. One last time going over the list in my head. One last time going over every piece of baggage we just unloaded from the car. Lizzie’s suitcases, my suitcases, Emmie’s suitcases, the bags full off her and Arlo’s toys, the bags full of presents. The bag with Lizzie’s snacks and last but not least the 2 suitcases and backpack of…

"JORIS!" I shouted, Lizzie and Emmie both looking at me "WE FORGOT JORIS!" I took my phone out, about to call him when he already did the same.

"Jo-…"

"I can’t believe you forgot me at home…"

"I swear-…"

"Like seriously? What is this? Home alone? Your alarm doesn’t go off and you forget me in all the hectic?"

"I’m so sorry! I send the ca-…"

"Just be glad it’s more like Home Alone 2. I woke up by myself and-…" he hung up "And got in the car right in time… I just wanted to wait how long it would take you to figure out that I wasn’t with you…" Joris walked inside the jet, plopping down in the seat next to us.

"I’m so so sorry!" I looked at him sheepishly and Emmie climbed off her seat, walking over to Joris who picked her up, sitting her down in his lap.

"Jojo made Emmie hair look nice." she smiled and I looked at her, then at him.

"What?" I said and looked at Lizzie "I thought you did that?"

"I thought you did?" she replied and Joris laughed.

"Nope, I did, right Emmie bug?" he cooed at her and she smiled "And now that we’re all here… I say let’s go. Christmas is just right around the corner…"

"Christmas with pesents! Pesents for evyone!" Emmie said excited, clapping her hands "Mewwy Christmas evyone!"

🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄

I hope you enjoyed this (not so) little something and I hope you all had amazing Holidays!

Taglist: (If you don’t like to be tagged for this, let me know)

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000

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miserymet · 2 days ago

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Tragedy - Reploid Bass AU

Was digging through my old WIPs and found this bad boy. It’s technically unfinished (because I didn’t know how to end it) but it gets the main point across and establishes the where the plot is at post MMX7. Thought it might be interesting to those who want more details on the AU.

(quick timeline context; Bass gets his memories back post mmx6, disappears off the face of the earth and shows back up again halfway through mmx7)

Summary: Zero and Bass talk about one of Bass’ many regrets. In the process, Zero tries to connect the brother he knew as Forte to the stranger wearing his face.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

The words are quiet. Not soft, as nothing Zero’s brother does is soft anymore, but they lack the usual bite. It’s enough to draw Zero’s attention to where Bass now sits.

The chair holding him is old, a mundane relic of the furniture that was commonplace over a hundred years ago. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t crumbled under the weight of its occupant, but Bass had mentioned that the entire base was designed around its mechanical residents. Perhaps its creator imagined one of his robots might need to use a chair. Even if there’s not much of a difference between sitting and standing for them.

Zero’s surprised to see that Bass has his back turned to him. His brother isn’t too keen on letting Zero out of his sight nowadays, but his gaze is firmly fixed upon the screen in front of him now. Another uncharacteristic behavior. Zero sets aside the spare parts he was examining, all interest gone, and approaches the screen that has his brother so transfixed. It casts a dim light even in the darkness of the base, but the image is clear enough.

It’s an old contact log. A few lines of text sit at the bottom of the screen and for some reason, Zero feels the need to read them aloud.

“Bass. I made a mistake. I created something that I can’t control. You’re the only robot strong enough to stop it. Please help me.” He furrows his brow as he speaks the final line. “I’m sorry.”

“Six lines. Twenty six words. A hundred and fifteen characters.” Bass mutters.

“What does it mean?”

It’s a genuine question, and maybe that’s why Bass laughs as though it’s the stupidest thing he could have asked. Zero waits with bitter patience for his brother to finish. This is typical of Bass’ new personality. Brash, abrasive, rude, all of these words and more fit the new image Zero’s brother has made for himself. Even his name is new. “Bass.” It’s been a bit of an adjustment to say the least.

Eventually, Bass manages to pull himself out of his laughing fit. His next words are the last thing Zero expects to hear.

“These are the words that killed me.”

“…I thought I did that.” Is all Zero can say to that. Bass laughs, much quieter this time.

“In the end, yeah.” His brother leans back in his seat. “But fighting you wasn’t-, I didn’t…”

“You ‘weren’t supposed’ to?” Zero volunteers.

“…I shouldn’t have.”

Bass goes quiet, lost in whatever old memories are haunting him today. Zero can’t help but feel frustrated. He used to know what to do when Bass…when Forte was upset. Whether it was about his lost memories, his weakness, his outdated code, Zero could always help. It’s different now.

Everything’s different now.

“Do you remember what I told you about our creator? How we didn’t really get along?” Bass starts, gaze still stuck on that old log.

“Because of your penchant for rebellion, yes.”

“That was only half of it. Yeah, I disobeyed him whenever I felt like it, but he wasn’t some doting father.” His brother turns to glare at him. “He was the most selfish, stubborn, stupid old man I ever met. Full of himself, too. You would have hated him.”

“That sounds a lot like you.” Zero can’t help the bite to his words. Maybe X was right. Maybe all this is getting to him. “Where are you going with this?”

“I was loyal at first. The old man had a lot of expectations for me, and I was determined to meet them. I didn’t. No matter how hard I tried, how strong I was, it was never going to be good enough if I couldn’t beat-,”

He stops abruptly, almost letting something slip. Something important. Bass is always vague about his old memories. He’s hiding something, but Zero can’t tell if it’s because it’s too risky or because he’s hoarding all that’s left of his past. It could really be either one. Zero isn’t sure he knows Bass all that well anymore.

“The point is, I was a failure to him. So he tried to move on. Build something else.” Bass shakes his head. “I couldn’t accept that. We fought. First it was just arguments, but it escalated. Before I knew it we were trying to kill each other.”

“What did you do?” Zero asks, though he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.

“I left.”

Oh. Zero wasn’t expecting that.

“It sounds obvious, right?” His brother rests his head against his hand, expression flat. “But I wasn’t a reploid. I didn’t have the programming X or Axl did. It wasn’t as simple as changing my career. I was leaving my creator.”

“Bass…”

He doesn’t let Zero get a word in. “I agonized over it for days. What was I if not his robot? What could I even do without him? I was practically one foot out the door already, but I couldn’t move the other one. I…cared about him.”

Zero tries to imagine it. Bass, in his original body, standing beside a vague figure. His gaze sweeps across the room and Zero sees Bass sitting on a table full of junk, swinging his legs as he speaks to his creator. What did his face look like? Was it flat and cold, speaking in an even tone about plans or progress or whatever a man like that saw fit to discuss with his creation? Or was he annoyed, brow furrowed with one dipping lower than the other and mouth pulled into a small pout? Maybe it was a face Zero had never seen before, a soft smile, a wry grin that so clearly spelled out his amusement.

He can only imagine. When he turns back to his brother, Bass wears the grimace he’s grown so used to.

“That was how I convinced myself to leave, in the end.” He breathes an empty sigh. “If I stayed, I might have hurt him. Might have let my anger take me to far and…”

His hands move in front of him, digits curled tightly around an invisible enemy. They hang in the air for a moment and shake. Then they fall. Bass lets his head follow them.

“You came back.” Zero speaks softly, trying for a gentleness he’s never been good at. “Why?”

Bass doesn’t pick up his head. “Same reason. I cared.”

“He made a robot, couldn’t control it and called you for help.” It feels both more and less real when he says it aloud. “He called you to your death.”

“And I came. I came because I am a fucking idiot.”

Zero blinks at the harsh language. Bass is far from the composed brother he knew, but even he didn’t use that language regularly. It feels strange. Forte would never, but Bass…it fits him a little more.

“He didn’t even have to apologize. The moment he came to me for help, the moment he called me strong-,” Bass grips his head in his hands. “All my conviction disappeared. I walked into that lab, this lab-!” He throws out his hands, nearly hitting Zero, “and I died for the man that tried to kill me!”

Zero doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? This is something he’s just learned, a grief he can only imagine. Bass has lived with this knowledge since the day he got his memories back. How did he feel, waking up and knowing that he lost everything to a man long gone? How do you live with that burden? How do you keep fighting?

Bass shoots up from his chair, gaze now fixed on Zero. There’s so much behind his eyes that Zero can’t see. A world no one alive has any hope of understanding.

“I was so close to being happy! To having something other than a worthless creator who only tolerated me as long as he could use me!”

His brother takes a step forward, the light of the screen illuminating every tear that falls from his face.

“And he took that from me! You took that from me!”

“I’m sorry-“

Zero sees the punch coming. He almost dodges. It’s what every self-preservation program in him begs him to do. He doesn’t. He takes it. The punch is hard, snapping his head to the side quite painfully. He doesn’t flinch. Not even when Bass’ fist splits the synthetic skin of his cheek. All he does is look back at his brother.

Bass stands there, eyes wide and mouth open. His arm hangs in the air. He can see the grime left on his hands. Can see the tension in every part of his body. Then, it shifts. Bass drops his hand and closes his mouth. That glare returns, fierce as ever.

“Don’t pity me. It’s too late for that.”

Zero tries to find his words. “I don’t-,”

“That hit only landed because you let it.” Bass casts his gaze to the side. “Everything I do to you is because you let me. Even in this body, I’m not strong enough.”

#mega man #megaman #rockman #megaman classic #megaman au #bass megaman #megaman bass #megaman x #mega man x #zero mmx #zero megaman #mmx #god i love angst #And fatal mistakes #And loved ones becoming unrecognizable #and daddy issues #One of these days ill shed some light (heh) on how Wily feels about everything because it is interesting #But for now you get brother angst #reploid bass au

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koolades-world · 1 day ago

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for the secret santa with @obeymeholidayexchange, i wrote something for Pen! (you can find them over at twitter and insta at PensAerts :)) i also uploaded it to ao3, which you can find here!

sorry this is after christmas! i intended to have it to you on christmas but i thought i lost everything thanks to an issue with the program i use to write. no clue what happened but basically everything recent just vanished. it eventually fixed itself, but by that point, i'd already restarted so i had two half finished pieces. i decided to combine them and just have it be longer. tried my best to get it to flow! i decided to go with the prompt of purgatory hall members decorate the common room together! really hope you enjoy <3

December First

While the sun never rose in the Devildom, Luke rose out of bed at what was presumably the crack on dawn on the first of December without an alarm. His internal alarm knew that the time had finally come. Without being so silent, he dashed around his room, getting ready for the day. Once he was changed, he flung open the doors to his closet, searching for one box in particular. Usually, he'd ask for help getting it down, but he didn't have time for that today. Not when he had Christmas cheer to spread.

So, he carefully moved the chair from his desk, and placed it near the shelf that held his special Christmas box. He had to stand on his tippy toes, but he was eventually able to reach the box. Luke placed it on his bed, and opened it with glee. He was so excited, that he didn't bother to return the chair to its proper place. The first thing he did was don the cute reindeer headband he'd dug out. He made sure each of the bells attached worked by ringing each one individually. He also tested the lights, and ran through each setting. The second thing he did was gather three more festive headbands for his housemates. If they weren't awake, they would be soon. They had a lot of work to do, after all!

He hurried off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair. He was in so much of a rush, in fact, that he had forgotten to take off his headband, and almost combed it in his haste. Once he was done there, he scurried down the stairs.

Good, he thought. He was the first one awake. That meant his plan would be much easier to execute. He knew his housemates were much less enthusiastic about decorating for Christmas as soon as December rolled around. He'd actually been ready weeks ago, but Simeon had asked him to refrain. This was one of the few times they openly disagreed. Simeon thought Christmas ought to be just for December, while Luke wanted Christmas to start as soon as Halloween was over.

Luke had always been very enthusiastic about celebrating birthdays. At least a month before someone's birthday rolled around, Luke was already planning exactly how to make their special day perfect. If you took a step back, Christmas was a birthday! So, really, he was just doing as he normally would. It just happened to be the birthday of his boss' son that he didn't personally know, nor would any of the presents or decorations be for him. A little odd, but he tried not to think about that too hard. He just wanted to enjoy the holiday.

The first step of his plan involved making a festive breakfast. How could you be in the true Christmas spirit without a hot chocolate? He dragged his little stool, which Barbatos had bought for him so he could reach the kitchen appliances, over to the stove so he could start preparing an entire pot. He expected all three of his housemates to partake, so he needed enough to share with everyone.

As he was pouring the milk into the pot, he heard a heavy sigh behind him. Luke jumped and slowly spun around with a guilty grin on his face. His headband jingled as he moved, making him feel like a little clown. He was greeted with a very exasperated looking Simeon. "Hello." Luke waved as if he wasn't standing over the stove at about six in the morning in a reindeer headband.

"Good morning, Luke." Simeon smiled knowingly. He didn't ask what Luke had been up to, but they both knew that the other knew what was happening.

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" Luke weakly offered.

"Are you already preparing for the holidays?" Simeon already knew what his answer would be.

"Yes…" Luke hung his head, as if he had been caught doing something he knew was wrong.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Instead of giving whatever answer Luke had been expected, Simeon offered his assistance. When Luke's eyes sparkled, he couldn't help but let any stern facade that might have reminded slip away.

"Thank you!" Luke threw his arms around his mentor. With a chuckle, Simeon squeezed him back. "For breakfast, I was thinking confetti pancakes, but with festive sprinkles." Luke reached as far as he could to try and reach a canister of sprinkles that was sitting out on the counter. Simeon grabbed them for him, and read the packaging.

"Extra festive holiday sprinkles?" Simeon questioned.

"Is there something wrong with them?" Luke narrowed his eyes, feeling a little insecure about his choice.

"No, no. They're very adorable. Just what makes them 'extra' festive, though?" Simeon made sure to quickly dispel the younger angel's obvious worries.

"Oh. I'm not really sure." Luke furrowed his eyebrows. The pair bounced ideas off each other as to what made the sprinkles extra festive as they made breakfast. The pancakes turned out well, besides the fact that for whatever reason, the color from the snowflake sprinkles leeched out. Luke said it looked almost like snow had fallen on their breakfast, and Simeon much preferred to look at it that way over mulling over why that had happened.

However, by the time everything was ready, their other two housemates weren't awake yet. The idea of starting to eat without them made him feel guilty. He'd started making the breakfast with the intention of sharing it as a surprise. It was less of a surprise, considering Simeon had helped, but at the very least, it could still be a surprise for the other two.

"Should we go wake them up?" Luke asked. Each plate was set out, and the pancakes were set out on the table.

"Go see if they're awake." Simeon stepped back into the kitchen, waving the younger angel away.

"You don't want to come with me?" Luke gathered his remaining festive headbands. After a little debating, he decided to give the candy cane headband to Simeon. Candy canes were his favorite, after all. Simeon took it from him without a second thought, and put it on.

"I'm certain you and Mc are the only two that can safely interrupt Raphael's beauty rest." Simeon chuckled nervously. "Besides, I know Solomon will ask for bacon. Do you know if we have any?"

Luke wasn't sure if what Simeon was saying was true, but went along with it anyways. "I think we do." After that, Luke ventured off up the stairs in search of their other housemates. To his shock, he ran into Solomon in the hallway as he was exiting the bathroom.

"Good morning, Luke!" He exclaimed. In his arms was a damp towel, and a couple toiletries.

"Good morning! I was looking for you. Simeon and I made breakfast!" Luke looked between the two remaining headbands, and passed Solomon the one that resembled a Christmas tree.

"These are cute. You don't mind that my hair is still wet, do you?" Solomon paused before putting it on.

"I don't." With Luke's affirmation, he snapped the headband on.

"Thank you. I'll be down shortly then. I have to attend to something I was working on first." Solomon seemed eager to escape the conversation in order to get back to his room. Luke was left alone in the hall, wondering what could've been so important that he wouldn't rush to festivities. He could hear the door snap shut.

With a shrug, he continued down the hall the Raphael's room. He'd never been worried about waking him up in the past, but Simeon's aversion to doing so made him rethink his choice.

No, what was he thinking? Raphael needed to know about the festivities he had planned for the day, and he needed to know now. He gently knocked, and waited to hear back. When he heard no response, he knocked harder. "Raphael?" He pushed open the door slightly. He was astonished again to find that he wasn't in his room. His bed was neatly made, meaning that he likely wasn't there anymore.

What could he be doing at this time of day? Maybe he was out training? That seemed the most likely. But, he needed to find him to be sure. He started his search outside, but that turned up nothing. Besides, Luke would've seen him exit the house. Raphael must've stayed inside, then. He peeked into every room in search of him, and followed every noise in hope it would give him any clues. After about ten minutes, Luke felt as if he'd checked everywhere.

Luke sat down in the hallway with a huff. He felt his stomach rumble mid-thought. He wasn't sure where Raphael could've gone, but he needed to figure out fast. Otherwise, his stomach might start eating itself like he heard Solomon mention one time. This thought clouded his mind, but he still wracked his brain for any ideas. As he was doing just that, he heard the ceiling above him creak loudly, and a cloud of dust rained down onto him. Luke let out a loud sneeze, and moved out of the way, just in case it happened again.

The only possible origin of that could've come from the attic. The thought of going into the attic made him shudder. It was so dark and dusty up there, and it felt like something was looming in each dark corner. Behind him, one of the attic doors swung open, and the ladder fell down with a bang. Luke almost jumped out of his skin, and he promptly ducked behind the nearest hall table. He peaked his head from behind the table, observing to see if anything might happen.

There must've been a reason it opened as suddenly as it did. In his waiting with baited breath, he realized he hadn't checked up there yet. There was no reason to, right? The last thing he wanted was to check in the creepiest place known to angels. Who knows what could be up there?

But then he remembered the reason he had been looking in the first place. What if Raphael needed his help? What if something had dragged him up there, and he needed Luke's help? With the stakes in mind, he sucked in a deep breath and started up the ladder.

After he pulled himself up the final rung, he felt consumed by the darkness. "Hello?" He carefully stepped forward, and turned the lights on his headband back on. It wasn't much, but Luke needed all the help he could get. Behind him, he heard the shuffling of boxes. He whirled around, searching for the source of the sound. It was too dark to see exactly where it had come from, though.

"If someone is there, come on out." He bravely squared his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. A terrifying figure came out from behind a large stack of boxes. It was large, and was shaped like a spike. Various other spikes protruded all over. Luke couldn't even begin to imagine what that thing was. The Devildom was full of odd and dangerous creatures, but he'd never seen anything like this one.

He immediately froze. He hadn't expected anything to actually be there, or for his demands to be respected. He silently said his goodbyes to everyone he loved, and braced for whatever was about to happen. He took a step backwards, and nearly tumbled back down to the previous floor. The last thing he expected, however, was for this figure to reach out and snag him by the front of his shirt. He was yanked back up and towards the mystery figure.

"Luke. What are you doing up here?" Raphael asked, dusting him off gently.

"What are YOU doing up here? I thought I was about to die." He let out a deep breath, clutching his chest.

"I'm setting up the Christmas tree." After looking closer, Luke realized the spiky thing he'd been carrying was the pieces of their tree. "I figured you'd want the help, so I got a head start." He tossed the pieces down the opening on the floor, letting them clatter to the ground. The sentiment warmed Luke's heart, despite the fact that he'd given him a heart attack in the process

"I thought you were a monster." Luke admitted shyly. Raphael didn't respond, but Luke knew he was amused. "Oh, right! Simeon and I made breakfast. I was looking for you to tell you." He felt stupid for forgetting the entire point of his mission.

"Let's head down then. The rest of the decoration can wait until after" Raphael descended the ladder. Luke went down after him, and although he made it down safely, Raphael seemed ready to catch him again if needed. In return, Luke helped him carry the parts of the tree down the stairs and together, they staked out a spot to put it. Before they headed back to the dining room, Luke threw his arms around Raphael's middle.

"Thank you." Luke then put the last headband on Raphael's head, which was gingerbread themed, with a little help from Raph himself.

"For what?" After realizing that Luke wasn't going to be letting go, he hugged him back, the ghost of a smile on his face.

"For being in the Christmas spirit, of course! And saving me, too." Luke was grateful for him, and he felt like he didn't say it enough. "In general, too. You're always there for me!" Raphael seemed like he was at a loss for words, and when Luke looked up, he was silently smiling down at him. With one more tight squeeze, Luke let go.

"Breakfast has been getting cold for forever now! Let's go eat so we can put this together." Luke began to tug Raphael back towards the kitchen, where hopefully the others were waiting. Raphael followed without resistance.

Once they finally arrived at the kitchen, it felt like hours had passed. Simeon and Solomon were in the kitchen, like he'd hoped. The distinct, biting smell of coffee filled the air, cutting through every other scent with ease. Simeon was enjoying the homemade hot chocolate, while it seemed as if Solomon had made himself a coffee. When Luke finally came back with Raphael in tow, they could all enjoy breakfast together. Luke recounted the story, mouth half-full of pancake the entire time. He was glad everyone was so receptive to Luke brining Christmas to the Hall as soon as possible.

As soon as he was finished eating (which was at record speed), Luke popped out of his chair, washed his dishes, and moved his legs as fast as they would go to the living room. He and Raphael had decided the tree would look best in the corner of the living room. That way, they could enjoy it every time they sat there as opposed to putting it somewhere like the foyer. He did what he could until someone taller came to help him out. With the help of Solomon, they assembled the tree, and plugged it in. The lights glimmered a pale blue. While Luke liked it, he decided the tree needed much more color.

Again, with Solomon as an assistant, he headed back up to the attic. Together, they dug around before realizing Raphael had already done that for them. All the Christmas related box, labeled or not, had been sorted into a pile in the center of the attic. However, finding the boxes was only half the work. To get it out of the attic, Luke was able to kick back and relax as Solomon used magic to transport them back to the living room. Once they were there, they were able to sort through them. Once they found the garland, tinsel, and ornaments, the fun was able to begin.

Luke decided they'd be putting up extra lights on the tree first. Working as a team, they wound the tree up with lights. The process was repeated with a couple strings of tinsel in different colors, because they couldn't find anything that matched. Since Luke wanted to save the tree topper for last, they then worked to put all the ornaments up. Spacing them out proved hard for Luke and Solomon, while Raphael and Simeon watched on in amusement. It felt like no matter where they tried to put them, there was always something else too close. When Simeon helped upon Luke's insistence, he was able to place them perfectly every time.

Finally, it came time to place the star on top. While magic could be used, Solomon insisted Luke do it. Solomon said it was hard to ignore the grin that appeared on his face every time the star was mentioned. After Raphael placed him on his shoulders, Simeon passed Luke the star. He gently placed it where it belonged.

"How'd I do?" Luke asked as he was placed back onto the ground, barely keeping his excitement from creeping into his voice.

"It looks great. You did a superb job!" Solomon gave him a thumbs up. Raphael nodded in agreement.

"Yay!" Luke did a little jump for joy.

"Do we want to take a short break before we get to decorating the rest of the common room?" Simeon took a seat on the sofa, looking more winded than it seemed like he wanted to admit.

"This is the perfect time to tell you about our plans for the rest of the day!" Luke jumped at the chance to let them in on what he was doing. He'd made it with the intention with doing it alone but, he knew they'd help no matter what. It would be easy for onlookers to tell just how much the elder housemates cared for the younger one. It was clearly one big, happy family.

"We're listening." Solomon took a seat. Simeon looked at Luke like a proud father might at his son during a big moment.

"Before I do, I'd like to thank you guys!" Without further explanation, he caught all three of them in a hug. Solomon and Raphael seemed stunned, but Simeon was quicker to reciprocate. "I love you guys." Luke muttered.

"We love you too, Luke." Simeon was laughing, but Luke knew he meant it.

He'd never thought coming to the Devildom would mean so much love. But, going was easily the best choice Luke had made. He would've never met Beelzebub, Barbatos, Mc, or Solomon, nor would his bond with Simeon or Raphael grown that much tighter. Christmas was a time to spread the love, and he intended to make sure each demon, angel, or human close to him knew, starting with the three most important to him.

"I know it's only December first, but Merry Christmas you guys!"

"Merry Christmas Luke."

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #omswd #obey me solomon #obey me! shall we date?#obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me raphael #oneshot

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clown-friend-gt · 3 days ago

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Fantasy AU Part 1

It's been a while since I've posted any writing, so I wanted to change that! Here's the first part of my fantasy AU of Heroisms. I talked about the basic premise of this story here.

In this part, Trevor and Addie are younger than they are in the main story around 12/13. There's also a lot of focus on Addie getting ready in the beginning, but I thought it was a nice way to highlight some aspects of the setting. Also, it's my story, so I get to decide what details get included, so if you don't care about what people in a psuedo-historical fairy tale setting eat and wear, too bad! (or just skip it, you do you)

As for the main story, I am still working on it! The next chapter is actually almost done, but I'm thinking of waiting until I get the next few chapters done until I start posting that one again, since I have some time off from work right now. It's coming fairly soon, I promise. Until now, enjoy this AU!

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Once Upon a Tower

5.7k words

Princess Adelaide woke up for the first time in her new room. She was surrounded by cloud-soft bedding. Gentle sunlight shone through the windows to warm her face. Just beyond, she could the chorus of birdsongs. All in all, it was a rather lovely place to be held captive.

She sat up and stretched her arms above her head to try and chase off some of her sleepiness. Despite herself, she began to yawn. She quickly placed a hand in front of her face to stifle it. Even if no one was around to see her, she had to remember to keep up appearances. If she was ever to earn her way out of here, she’d have to carefully maintain her regal sense of poise.

She stepped onto the plain wooden floors with her bare feet. Despite the warm sunlight, the floor was still a bit chilly. A shiver ran up her spine. She waited for it to pass before making her way over to the room’s only window.

The bars on the window were the only indication of her imprisonment. It wasn’t as if they were necessary; she’d be sent plummeting to her death if she tried to escape through this window. They only served as a cruel reminder. No matter how nice the room behind them was, the iron bars proved that it was nothing but a gilded cage for her.

Adelaide felt her eyes begin to sting and tore her eyes from the window. She couldn’t get upset, now. Her curse always started acting up when she let herself get emotional. Even now she could feel that strange feeling of weightlessness bubbling up within her. A gentle but powerful urge tugging her away from the ground.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She hadn’t noticed herself beginning to float, but now she felt her feet gently return to the ground. She felt oddly heavy after, just like she always did once the magic left her body.

Today will be a normal day, just like any other, she told herself, turning away and leaving the window behind.

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Out of all of the troubles she’d imagined would come from being locked away in a tower, Princess Adelaide never thought that making breakfast would be one of them. It had never occurred to her just how reliant she was on the palace staff for little things like this. But now that she was on her own, she was utterly lost.

Finding food was no trouble, of course. Her family had made sure that she would always be provided for while she stayed here, and the cupboards full of food clearly demonstrated that. The trouble was, she had no idea how to prepare any of it.

She had decided on a simple breakfast of bread and jam. She figured even she could manage something as straightforward as that. She found a plate, a napkin, and her utensils easily enough. Then she had to slice the bread.

Logically, she knew the nice, neat slices of bread she’d had served to her before had to come from somewhere, but she found herself slightly unsure of how to proceed when presented with a loaf of bread. Was she just supposed to tear it apart with her hands? Surely that couldn’t be right.

She searched her little kitchenette for something to cut it with. In one of the drawers, she found a few knives. She selected the sharpest one, assuming it would be best for this job. She carefully held the handle in both hands and began to cut the bread.

It took her a couple of tries to find purchase. Instead of biting into it like she’d imagined it would, the knife started smooshing the bread, flattening the top. She frowned to herself as she pushed harder, and the knife finally cut into the bread.

Once she’d managed to slice the bread all the way through, she held it up to admire her handiwork. The slice was misshapen, and much thicker than she preferred. It would have to do. She set it aside on her plate and got to work on the next one.

Her second try didn’t fare much better than her first. The only difference was this time, the slice of bread was much too thin. She set the knife down, looking between her pitiful slices and the loaf of bread. Maybe she should throw these out and just try again?

She shook her head. No, this was the start of a new life for her. She couldn’t live her life as frivolously as she had in the palace. She had to fend for herself, and that meant that she couldn’t waste precious resources.

Now it was time to select a jam. She had plenty to choose from. Apple jam, cherry jam, even grape jam. She eventually decided on a jar of blueberry jam. It was her favorite, after all.

She held the clay jar in one hand and began to pry out the large cork with the other. But the cork was wedged tighter in the jar than she had expected. She dug her fingers into the cork and pulled with all her might. With no small amount of effort on her part, the cork came loose from the jar with a pop!

As luck would have it, though, the jar slipped from her hands the moment the cork was freed. It fell onto the floor and shattered, spreading its contents all over. Addie glared at the globs of jam.

She ignored the way her mouth watered as she stared at the mess. She may have been living a rougher life now, but she would not be eating off of the floor. She was still royalty, after all. But it was disappointing. Blueberry jam only came around in the late summer, and that was months away.

Addie sat down to eat her breakfast of bread and no jam. She chewed it lazily; it was good quality bread, but it made for far too dull of a meal on its own. Occasionally, her eyes would drift over to the jam covered floor, her temptation only increasing as time went on. But her sense of discipline prevailed.

After breakfast, she went back to her mess on the floor. She carefully picked the ceramic pieces from the jam. Then she stared longingly at her fingers coated in that sweet berry-flavored substance.

Just one lick wouldn’t hurt.

After her meal of boring bread, the sensation of blueberries practically danced upon her tongue. So tasty. So tragic.

With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly cleaned the rest of the jam off of the floor with the cloth napkin she’d set aside for herself. She cleaned as much off as she could, but there was still a bit of sticky residue left on the floor. And the napkin was utterly soiled. She’d have to throw it away.

Then she went to the bedside table where there was a mirror, a pitcher of water, and a bowl. She poured the water into the bowl so she could perform her morning ablutions. She wet her face with water, then patted it dry with a towel. She also swished a little water around in her mouth, then spat it back into the bowl. Then she set it aside to empty out later.

She examined herself in the mirror. She’d had her hair braided for her before she left, so her natural hair would be protected for at least a month. She frowned at the few pimples that dotted her dark brown skin. They’d started showing up a few months ago, around the same time as her curse. Their unsightly appearance was an ugly reminder of the reason she was trapped.

She stared deeply into her amber-colored eyes. Was it just her imagination, or did they hold a little less luster than they used to, before she was locked away? She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to chase those thoughts from her mind.

Now, it was time for her to dress herself. Yet another thing she’d never done on her own. But she’d seen her maids do it hundreds of times. Maybe she could pull it off by herself after all.

She exchanged her nightgown for a white chemise. That was easy enough. Then she pulled on her stockings, bending over in an undignified manner to do so, and tied her garters on to secure them. After that, she pulled on a pair of drawers under her shift.

Then she went back to her wardrobe to select a pair of shoes. She chose a simple blue pair of slippers.

Cautiously, she selected a pair of jumps from her wardrobe. These were less structured than the stays she wore for formal occasions. They also laced from the front, although Adelaide rarely did so herself. She pulled them on over her head and pulled the laces tight.

She paused before tying them. No one was around, right? She could maybe afford to leave them a little loose. She didn’t have the smallest figure by any means, and her maids tended to lace her undergarments tight to make up for that fact. Now that she had to dress herself, she got to make that choice for herself, and she chose to loosen her jumps a bit before tying them in place.

She chose two petticoats to wear beneath her skirt. It was sunny out, but still a little chilly in the stone tower. Two petticoats would hopefully provide her with a bit of warmth. She pulled them on, and, after fiddling around in front of the mirror for a few minutes, managed to secure the ties in place.

Finally, she was ready to choose her outerwear. She wanted to keep things fairly simple, but her clothing was rather limited in that regard. She eventually found an unembellished skirt of blue silk, as well as a white waistcoat with bluebirds embroidered onto it. Perfect for spring.

To finish it all off, she tied a pale-yellow sash around her waist. She examined herself in the mirror, and decided she didn’t look too unkempt. Not bad for her first time dressing herself.

Now that she’d finally finished feeding and clothing herself, all Adelaide had to do was to find something to occupy her time. That sounded easy enough, but it was the part she had been worried about. All that time couped up with no one around for miles sounded absolutely dreadful. Like the stuff of nightmares.

She approached the bookshelf that rested against one of the walls. She examined the titles that lay within, weighing her options. The books rattled in place, distracting her from her search. She examined the bookcase, but it seemed stable. Then it happened again, and with a start she realized that it wasn’t just the books; the floor beneath her was shaking. Every few seconds, a tremor vibrated the whole tower.

Was it an earthquake? She’d read about them in books but had never experienced one herself. There hadn’t been one in the kingdom in decades. Her family had been promised this tower was the safest place in the world for her to stay. Had they been lied to?

The light from the window dimmed momentarily. Something blocked out the sun. She rushed over to see what was the matter. Her blood ran cold as she spotted the gigantic figure in the distance. Then the realization hit her like a slap to the face. It wasn’t an earthquake she was feeling.

It was that thing’s footsteps.

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It was spring in Trevor’s forest again. He could feel the warmth of the earth in his roots and the light of the sun on his leaves. Most of all, he could feel the urging of his kin through his connection to them. It was time for him to wake up.

His trunk shifted back into the shape of a human body. His branches twisted back into his arms. His roots receded into what became the soles of his feet. Finally, the knots on his bark reformed into a human face. His face.

Regaining human form was always a bit of an adjustment. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to get used to having his sight back. For a few moments, the early morning sunlight was blinding, and all of the vibrant colors of the forest were dizzying. He took a few uneasy steps forward, trying to regain his sense of balance.

The clothes he’d been wearing before he went into hibernation had reappeared on his body. He looked down at the plain white shirt he wore, rubbing the fabric between his fingers and admiring the craftsmanship. He wore long brown pants on his legs and simple shoes on his feet.

The clothes were a gift from his magus friend, Wren. They were enchanted to appear whenever he took human form and disappear whenever he turned back into a tree. He’d worn them since he was a child, and they grew along with him. He didn’t quite understand how it worked; Wren’s magic was so different from his own.

Wren had always been a good friend to him. He’d known them for almost as long as he could remember. In addition to gifting him the clothes he wore, they’d also taught him to speak what they called “the common tongue.” Of course, he’d never had the chance to speak it with anyone but Wren.

He made a mental note to visit them the first chance he got. But first, he had a number of duties to attend to. He was the guardian of this forest, and ever since he was a young sapling his kin had taught him the importance of his role.

He’d start by patrolling the forest. That was the easiest way to check on all of the flora and fauna that called his forest home. He’d visit everyone and ask them how they’d fared through the winter. The elders always emphasized that “attachment is a risk to the balance you keep.” But he’d come to care for many of the living things in his forest, and it was hard not to think of some of them as his friends, too.

He set out on his journey, keeping his steps light. Most of the forest was used to his presence by now, but he still did his best to be careful. He was as tall as the tallest trees in this forest now, and if he wasn’t mindful of how he carried himself it could spell disaster for his environment.

He hummed a song as he walked along, weaving a spell as he went. It was one of the first things the elders had taught him. While he carried this tune, he could walk on the ground without shaking it and pass through the trees without knocking them aside.

Birds flitted through the trees as he passed. He kept a silent tally of each as they flew alongside him, making sure that most had returned from their migrations. Occasionally he’d stop to commune with them. They didn’t share words like he and Wren would, but they communicated in songs instead. Through the music they exchanged, he caught glimpses of images, sensations, and feelings.

He held out a finger and let a few robins land upon it. He smiled as they regaled him with tales of their migration. Through their song, he saw places he’d never been, the warm islands far to the south. He’d never get the chance to leave the forest, so he enjoyed hearing about their travels instead.

He gave them a small wave as they flew away. It was a gesture Wren had taught him. It had little meaning to the birds, but he still liked to use it.

He continued making his rounds. He visited the lake and made sure it had thawed completely. He checked on some of the newer saplings to make sure they were getting enough light. Bit by bit, he made sure everything in the forest was as it should be.

About halfway through his trek, he felt something tugging at his pantleg. He looked down to see what it was, only to see a red squirrel scampering its way up his leg. He bent over and offered it his hand to climb into. It leaped on, and he stood up again, raising his hand in front of his face.

Through distressed chitters, it informed him of the large number of humans that had spent most of the winter traipsing through the woods. It bemoaned the fact that it’d been unable to dig up the acorns it distinctly remembered it had buried near the old ruins due to their presence.

Trevor nodded along, choosing not to remind the squirrel that its memory was far from perfect. In fact, many of the trees in this forest likely sprouted from seeds buried and subsequently forgotten by squirrels just like this one.

After assuring the squirrel he’d look into the issue, he placed it onto a nearby branch, letting it scurry away.

Humans. Trevor never knew what to think of them. His kin had mixed opinions on them; some were perfectly content to live alongside them, while others swore that they were nothing but a danger to the delicate ecosystems they protected. He had never even met a human, much less had time to form much of an opinion about them.

Humans tended to avoid him, for the most part. That is, when they even noticed he was there. It was a shame, really. As far as he knew, he was the only one amongst his kin who spoke their language. Perhaps if he could talk to them, they could figure out a way to coexist peacefully.

As he got close to the clearing that housed the ruins the squirrel had mentioned in its story, he dropped the spell that let him travel lightly. It always gave him a little pang of sadness in his heart when he came by here. The forest had yet to recover from when this spot was clearcut so many years ago. Save for the grass that grew from the ground and the small trees that dotted the makeshift plain, this area was completely uninhabited.

It wasn’t a huge clearing, at least. It was roughly a circle, a little longer across than he was tall. In the middle stood a strange pile of stones, stacked nearly as tall as he was. Wren called it a “tower.” Many of the stones towards the bottom were covered in moss, and a creeping ivy clung to one side. It was built and then abandoned by humans a long time before he’d sprouted.

He’d seen it plenty of times before, but he’d never had a reason to approach it until now. He had to wonder what its purpose might’ve been. Was it some kind of dwelling? It didn’t look much like the homes he’d seen humans inhabiting before, in the village that sat closest to his forest. And why had the humans visited it while he was asleep?

It did have one of those pointy things on top like a human’s den had. A “roof,” Wren had called it. They’d told him they were made out of straw, or something they called “shingles.” It didn’t look like straw to him, more like small black squares layered on top of each other.

The glint of an object on top of the roof caught his eye. It was a metal ornament the likes of which he’d never seen, hammered into the shape of a rooster. It creaked forlornly as the wind pushed it this way and that. He watched on in delight as it reluctantly turned in the direction of the shifting breeze. It was like the metal bird was dancing, beckoning him closer.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, he reached out and touched it, stopping it in place. Then he carefully set it to spinning again with the tip of his finger. He smiled as he watched it spin. While it spun, he pinched the thin bar that it sat upon, trying to understand how the thing worked. But he misjudged how delicate it would be, and it snapped off the tip of the roof. He examined it for a moment, before slipping it into his shirt pocket. Hopefully no one would miss it.

Now that he was closer to the tower, he saw that the top had openings on one of its sides. He leaned down and put his eye to the opening on the front. He looked around as best as he could, but he couldn’t see much. The opening was blocked by a pair of large metal bars.

He was incredibly curious about what was inside. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, and, when it seemed he was alone, he wedged the tip of one of his fingers through the bars. The metal burned him slightly; the bars must’ve been made of iron. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. If he could quickly pry them off, he’d be able to see inside without burning himself too badly.

The elders often warned him to be mindful of his strength. But again he misjudged the durability of the construction, and he ended up prying away part of the wall along with the bars. He winced as he dropped it, feeling sorry for damaging it.

At least he could get a better look inside now. He leaned in and looked around eagerly. The room inside was filled with many objects seemingly made by humans. He considered taking some to show to Wren, who could explain their purposes to him.

Then he heard something inhale sharply, and his eye darted over to look at the source of the noise. From underneath a larger object draped in fabric, a small set of widened eyes stared at him. His own eyes widened in response as he bit back a yelp. It seemed he had been wrong.

The tower was far from abandoned.

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As soon as she spotted the giant, Adelaide quickly ducked below the windowsill. It hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, and she planned to keep it that way. Her eyes scanned the room for somewhere to hide.

The entrance to the tower was locked, so running wasn’t an option. But even if she could, where would she go? She didn’t know this forest, and even if she did, there was no way she was outrunning that thing.

Another tremor shook the tower and she silently cursed whoever had thought to keep her here. A giant. Really? You think I’d be safe here with a giant nearby?!

On a childish whim, she darted beneath her bed. Internally, she heard the voice of her etiquette teacher scolding her.

“Princesses do not hide under beds,” the voice said, high and slightly nasally.

Who cares about propriety? I’m trying to hide from a monster here! She shot back at the voice, in her head of course.

The room shook again, and her nerves were electrified. She felt the telltale feeling of her curse firing up inside of her.

Not now, please, not now, she pleaded silently.

Instead of floating off of the ground herself, she spotted objects around the room beginning to float instead. Bottles of perfume lifted themselves off her vanity, and the books began flying off of the shelves, hanging in midair.

This happened sometimes when she was especially distraught. Instead of her curse affecting her, it’d affect her surroundings, and small objects would hover around her of their own accord. She glared silently upwards, powerless to do anything to stop it.

She heard the giant shifting around outside. Looking up at the window, she saw a large chestnut-colored eye gazing inside. She froze, her heart hammering in her throat. She prayed silently that it wouldn’t see her.

It seemed like someone was listening, because the eye went away from the window. She let out a sigh of relief, only a moment too soon. The giant forced its finger through the bars of the window and hooked the tip around them. Then it pulled, wrenching the window, and part of the wall, away from the room entirely.

It looked into the room again, and this time, she saw more of its face. Its features were much like a normal human’s, although much, much larger. Instead of skin, its face was covered in a treelike bark. It had a knot under its left eye, like a mole. She’d heard tales of the giant guardians of nature who watched over the uncivilized world, but she’d never dreamed of coming face to face with one.

What struck her was how young the thing looked. If it wasn’t for its size and the strangeness of its appearance, she might’ve thought it was a boy her age. Her breath caught in her throat.

The thing’s eye shot over to where she was hiding, dialing in on her. Its eye widened in shock, and it retreated away from the wall. There was a large *CRASH* as it seemingly fell backwards, causing the tower to shake like never before. A single stone brick fell from the hole the giant had created, smashing on the floor below. Just when she thought the humongous creature’s fall would cause the tower to collapse, the shaking stopped.

She heard the creature grunted at her in its bizarre guttural language. The sound was somewhere between a cow lowing and a person speaking. Then it startled her by speaking in words she could understand.

“—Sorry! I’m so sorry!”Its voice echoed around her. Despite its volume, its voice sounded young, like that of a teenage boy.

“I didn’t know someone lived here,” he continued. “I’m sorry about you’re—ah, wall.”

She was speechless as he stood up and brushed himself off. Unlike the stories she’d been told, this giant not only spoke her language, but wore clothes much like that of a commoner. Where he’d gotten enough material to make clothes that fit him, she had no idea.

“I am called Trevor,” he said, running a hand through his leaflike hair. His voice had a strange accent to it that she couldn’t place.

He began to speak very quickly, like he was in a rush to get all of his words out. “I’m sorry if I scared you, like I said, I didn’t know anyone was living here. There aren’t really any humans who live in these woods. You’re the first one I’ve met! What is your name?”

He looked at her expectantly.

What was she supposed to do? Everything in her screamed for her to run, but she stayed stuck in place. Sure, he acted friendly enough, but that could be some kind of trick to get her to drop her guard, to lure her out of hiding.

He tilted his head at her as she stayed silent. “Do you speak?”

She opened and closed her mouth, floundering. He seemed to notice she was in some kind of distress.

“Are you stuck? Here, let me help.” He began reaching towards her with a single, enormous hand, with fingers that were nearly as long as she was tall. That knocked her out of her stupor.

“No, no, no! I’m fine,” she stammered, squeezing herself out from under the bed. His hand stopped in place, then retreated as she stood up.

He smiled at her again. His bright white teeth stood in stark contrast to the bark-like skin that covered his face.

“So you can talk! That’s good, I was worried you couldn’t. That’d be a disappointment; the first human I ever get to speak to can’t talk themselves. It’s a good thing you can!”

“Y-yes,” she said, swallowing dryly.

“You never told me your name,” he reminded her.

“O-oh,” she stuttered, before clearing her throat and standing up straight. If there was one thing she’d been trained to do so well she could do it in her sleep, it was introducing herself.

“I am Adelaide Luanda Johannesburg, First Princess of Johannesburg, Heiress to the Pearlescent Throne and Descendent of Harmonia’s Grace.” She paused briefly, trying to gauge how deeply to curtsy. She eventually decided to curtsy deeply as a sign of respect, hoping that would keep him happy.

“Wow, that’s, uh,” he hesitated. “That’s a lot of names.”

She cursed herself silently. She shouldn’t have used all of her titles, that would only confuse him.

“You may call me Adelaide,” she granted him.

Calling her by her first name was a special privilege, not to be given out lightly. Only her mother and her brothers called her by that name. But as far as she was concerned, this was a matter of survival, and keeping the giant happy and peaceful was more important than her honor.

“Ade—Ada-luh—luh—” He still seemed to be struggling with her name.

“Just Addie, then,” she said quickly. It was what her youngest brother used to call her, before he’d learned to speak properly.

“Addie. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she replied automatically.

Trevor’s eyes drifted around the room she stood in. She followed his gaze, spotting all of the knick-knacks floating around her room. Suddenly, she felt strangely embarrassed, like he’d caught her with something she shouldn’t have.

If he noticed something was amiss, he didn’t mention it.

“What are you doing in my woods?” he asked instead.

Adelaide’s heart rose into her throat. His tone was light, but his question was disarming. Did he think she was invading his territory? She’d heard stories about giants who would grow violent if they felt their domain was under some kind of threat.

She decided to tell him part of her story. If she was lucky, he might pity her instead of becoming aggressive.

“I’m trapped here. This is my prison,” she said, truthfully.

“Your prison?” he asked. “So you don’t live here?”

“Not by choice,” she answered.

“Why don’t you just leave?”

“The door is locked.”

“Why does that matter? I can help you get out, if you’d like.”

Without waiting for an answer, he began to reach for her again. An undignified yelp escaped her lips and her hands flew out in front of her, an instinctive reaction to the sight of that huge hand reaching out to grab her.

“No!”

He froze, a look of hurt briefly passing over his face.

“…I see.”

He retracted his hand sheepishly.

Adelaide felt sorrow for a moment, before that feeling was replaced by confusion. Why did she care if her actions offended him? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Besides—” she spat out, as if to cover for her blunder. “I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?” he asked, with seeming reluctance.

She paused. Adelaide didn’t really want to divulge her troubles to a stranger, and to a giant no less. But what would she say instead?

“Princesses do not tell lies,” came the sing-songy voice of her etiquette teacher in her head again.

Adelaide sighed deeply. “I—I’m cursed.”

Trevor gave her a puzzled look. “Cursed?”

She nodded, then gestured to the many objects that now glided through the air in all directions.

"Can’t you see? All this chaos is because of my curse.”

Trevor followed the path of one of the flying books with his eyes, almost as if he was noticing it for the first time.

“I was wondering about that,” he admitted.

“Well, now you know,” she said, barely hiding the bitterness in her voice.

Turning away, Adelaide began trying to fish things out of the air so she could put them back in their proper place.

“And until I learn how to get it under control, I’m stuck here,” she finished, placing a few books back on their shelves. She half expected them to fly back out, but now that her mood was falling, so too did the chintz around her room start to sink to the ground.

The floor began to tremble lightly again. Apparently, while she’d had her back turned, Trevor had started resting his hand on the side of the tower, near the hole he’d made. He tapped his pointer finger on the floor of her room absently.

“So…you do live here?” he asked.

“For the time being,” she answered carefully, thrown by the odd sensation of the vibrations of his tapping travelling through the floor and up her legs.

His lips curled into a smile. “Then I guess I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”

Startled, she exclaimed, “What?”

His smile widened to a grin. “Watching over every living thing in this forest is my responsibility. Now that you’re staying here, that includes you too.”

Adelaide was stunned. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted him “watching over” her. What exactly would that entail? But it wasn’t as if she had much choice in the matter.

At least she wasn’t frozen in terror like she had been before. Not to say that she was entirely unafraid of him now. He was so many times larger than her, and it would’ve been easy for him to do with her as he liked. But if he had any intention of harming her, he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so. Of course, that didn’t guarantee that his intentions with her were pure.

And now that her initial terror was fading, a kind of curiosity was left in its place. Trevor was already so unlike any giant she’d ever heard of. His manner was certainly…intriguing. She had so many questions she could ask him. That is, if she could ever get over her wariness to speak to him.

For now, though, she had to demonstrate her gratitude. She wasn’t yet sure if she was thankful for his offer, but she still had to keep up appearances.

Watching him carefully, she slowly approached the opening in the wall. Trevor hurriedly removed his hand, standing up straight as she came near. She lowered herself into a curtsy again.

“I’m most grateful for your hospitality,” she said, holding the curtsy for a moment before standing up again and forcing herself to look him in the eye, if only for a moment.

Trevor scratched the back of his head. The sound of his leafy hair moving around almost reminded her of the sound of the wind travelling through the trees.

"Wow. You sure use a lot of fancy words,” he said, sounding a little lost.

“It just means ‘thank you for letting me stay here,’” she clarified

“Oh. Of course,” he said, smiling again. “It’s my duty, after all.”

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #g/t story #sfw g/t #gentle giant #OC-Trevor Castillo #OC-Addie Jones #Fantasy AU

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