#excited to get back home so i can actually get to do a full piece | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seospicybin · 2 months ago

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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART 2

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Chapters: Part I / Part III

Synopsis: To help you moving on from your break-up, Chan takes you out for a night. However, he doesn't expect you will find a potential new love in someone else. (9,5k words)

Author's note: Here's one you've been asking for. Please tell me what you think about it! Nevertheless, enjoy x

"I think we're done for the day, huh?" You sigh in relief after dumping the dirty towels into the laundry bag and tossing it to the back room.

"No, actually, someone just walked in and wanted a haircut," your co-worker says while holding a stack of clean towels in front of her.

"Keem can have it," you resolve, you've finished all of your appointments for the day, and you're tired and ready to go home.

"Yeah, that's the problem. He specifically asked for you," your co-worker answers, putting the towels into the shelf full of them.

You plant your hands on each side of your waist and shoot a puzzled look at your coworker, "Huh?"

Is this customer aware that the salon is about to close and there's another hairstylist on duty? That exciting feeling of getting home soon is slowly fading as you head in to meet this customer who specifically asks for you.

The second you walk in, Keem, the other stylist, grabs your elbow and then leans into your side to whisper, "He's so cute."

Hearing it doesn't lift your mood at all, you just want to get it over with and go home.

"Where?" You ask as you put on your apron.

"He's right there," she whispers, pointing to the middle seat hidden behind the big mirror then detaches herself off you to go back behind the counter.

For a customer who chooses an awful time to get a haircut, you put on a phony smile and shove your hands into the pockets of your apron as you greet.

"Hi, what can I do for... You!" The infliction in your voice changes as you see who that customer is.

It's the shit-eating grin, the stupid dimples on his stupid face and

"It's enough torture to have you as my neighbor and now I have to you see at work too," you say as you cross your arms together in front of you.

"Oh, wow, is this how you treat your customer?" He says with a fake concerned look.

"Only the select few," you say with a sinister smile.

"I made it on your list of honors? Is this because we had sex—"

You hurriedly cover his mouth with your hand and make sure no one is seeing what you're doing to him, or worse, letting them acquire that piece of information.

"What do you want?" You scold him with a piercing glare.

He takes your hand off of his mouth and dramatically gasps for air, "I want a haircut," he simply answers.

With a huff, you swivel his chair to face the mirror and grab the cape for him, putting it around his neck, then clip it together. You put on a phony smile as you look at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"So, what do you want me to do with your hair besides setting it on fire?" You sarcastically ask him.

It's amazing how his grin doesn't wear off even just for a second, "We don't need to cut much, I guess just the tip," he says.

"Just the tip," you repeat, "Is that the title of your sex tape?"

Chan cracks a sonorous laugh, "That's a good one!"

Once you hear the sound of the scissors snipping away the hair, you get in the zone. You focus on giving his hair a nice shape that accentuates his strong jawline and makes his facial features more prominent.

"Don't talk much, huh?" He asks, slightly turning his head to the side.

You grab the nape of his neck and forcefully turn his head back to the front, "just here trying my best not to snip you somewhere else," you calmly mutter.

"Ooh, chills!" He responds with a shudder.

You switch your scissors with a hair clipper and it starts buzzing as you turn it on, you're holding it in his hand as you look at him and say, "You're going to regret coming here and allowing me to be this close to you with a sharp object."

Seeing you bringing the hair clipper close to his face, he reflexively closes his eyes so tightly and you hold the urge to not laugh at it.

"Oh, okay, I regret it now," he says like a frightened child left alone by his parents.

You gently place your hand on his jaw, "Stay still," you warn him.

He obeys you, keeping his head still and his eyes closed as you're carefully trimming his sideburns. You suddenly find yourself admiring his face and his beautiful features of a long, big nose and voluptuous lips.

For a split second, you so badly want to run your thumb on his lips and feel how soft they are. You did feel it once with your lips but you were too sad to notice and now you realize how much you regret it.

Before the temptation returns, you turn off the trimmer and put it away, then proceed to help brush the hair on his face and around his neck with a soft brush.

"You're all done," you announce, taking the cape from around his neck.

Chan stays on his seat as you brush the excess hair off the nape of his neck and make sure they don't stick to his skin. You put all of your equipment on the cart next to you and anticipate his reaction to your haircut.

Not trying to brag here but you did a good job here because he looks even more attractive with a fresh cut.

"Aren't you going to tell me how handsome I am and then kiss me on the cheek?" He asks while blinking his big eyes at you.

"I'm not your mom," you reply with a plain smile.

When you think you already got rid of him after giving him a haircut, you see him lounging around the counter and putting on his charms for Keem. You plan on keeping it a secret that you know each other but if he starts flirting with your co-worker, then there's a possibility you'll see her walking out of his apartment the next day and it only gets messy from there. You come up to him and tug at the sleeve of his jacket, then pull him to the side.

"Why are you still here?" You ask through your gritted teeth and keeping your volume low.

"I'm waiting for you."

"Why?"

"Because we're going out tonight," he answers.

"We?"

"And no, my panties are not in a twist," he says with a teeth-baring grin, "You can check it yourself if you want."

"Ugh. No!" You groan in refusal.

What is it about him anyway that makes the girls go crazy for him? If you're thinking with your depraved, brutal, and cavewoman brain, it must be the body that is inexplicably electric and sexually charged, braced with heavy muscles, and injected with a high dose of testosterone. In other words, he's hot, and it's hard not to be biologically attracted to him. But if you're thinking progressively and in the 21st century way, you know you should avoid this fuckboy at all costs.

"If you don't want to go then I'll just take Keem," he says, secretly threatening not only you but also your workplace dynamic.

"I'm sure she's keem for it," he makes a pun.

"Ugh. Okay," you groan in agreement this time.

And then, there's something called human error.

At first, Chan thought that you have that stoic expression only whenever you're around him but he was wrong. He learns that it's just your default expression and you wear it like a defense mechanism to keep the predators at bay. At least, he shouldn't worry about leaving you alone in the bar as he's working the DJ booth.

Once he's done with his set, he ignores the calls for his name and walks up to you, seeing you rather unimpressed by what he just did. What did he expect though? You're not most girls.

He taps the table, signaling the bartender to come and tend to his order, "The usual, please?"

The bartender nods and is about to turn away to make his drink when he calls for him again, "And one more for this nice lady," he adds, gesturing at you and flashing you a sly smile.

Chan turns around to face the dance floor and leans his back against the counter, "So, what do you think?"

"It was good," you answer after sipping your drink.

"You have a filthy expression on your face," he teases you and gently elbows your side, "go on, tell me what you're really thinking."

"Strangling you with my bare hands," you answer without a beat.

Chan leans in close enough that he can get a whiff of the smell of your shampoo, "so that's your kink?"

"Only when I see fear in your eyes," you answer with a wicked smile.

"Wow. You know how to excite a guy," he praises, not entirely lying about it because he gets a little excited from your snarky comments.

The bartender comes with both of your drinks and you hurriedly finish your previous one to go ahead with the next. He watches as you take a small sip and then waits to see how your nose scrunched at the bitter aftertaste.

"You're single now and maybe it's time for you to get out there, you know, find a new love," he says, secretly hoping that you'll find it in him when he looks at you.

"Hey, Chris," a girl comes and without hesitating, placing a kiss on his cheek, "Great set!"

"Thanks, Alicia," he says to the tall lady with beautiful braided hair.

"This one is on me," she says as she gives him a drink from the ones she ordered.

"Cheers then!" He says, clinking his glass with hers with his charming smile on.

The lady leaves to take the drinks away and is soon engulfed by the crowd. Chan notices that you remain calm about that interaction, and again, what did he expect?

"At least, one of us has no problems getting some tonight," you take a jab at him.

"I'm taking you out so we can have fun tonight and enjoy yourself—"

"The only way I can enjoy myself is when I'm alone."

"Oh?" He gasps and gives you a wild glare.

You roll your eyes and sigh once you realize he's taking it the wrong way, "I just want to go home and binge my favorite show and sleep," you finish your sentence with a big gulp of drink and he gets to see another nose scrunch from you.

The intention was to take you out of the apartment and perhaps, he can get you to loosen up a little bit, making this getting to know each other thing a little easier for him. It seems like he's forcing it on you and maybe it wasn't a good idea after all.

"Okay, then, we'll go home after this one," he says, lifting his glass close to his mouth.

"Or you can just stay here and do your thing, and I'm going home," you suggest a better idea after finishing your drink and you grab your bag as if you just can't wait to get out of here.

Chan is quick to grab your arm and stops you from leaving, "Hey, at least, let me finish my drink first," he protests.

"You don't have to leave with me. I can go home myself," you say to him.

"Just wait for me," he squeezes on your arm and adds, "Please?"

You consider it for a moment and then say, "I'll wait for you outside."

Since he's done a gig here, Chan has to make a proper exit out of the club, he greets a few people who work there and grabs his backpack of equipment, carrying it in his hand as he walks out of there. He finds you leaning against the street lamp and the light casts a glowing halo on your head, making you look like an angel... with a stoic expression.

He grins when you notice him coming, "Okay, I lied, there's another thing we have to do tonight," he says.

"Goodness, Chris, just bag a lady and call it a night," you groan in complaint.

Both of his eyebrows ratchet up at your words, "It has nothing to do with that."

"What is it then?" You cross your arms together in front of you.

"Only the best part of the night," he answers with a cryptic smile.

Chan knew he should have started the night with food. He can see that your mood gradually elevates with every bite you take from the delicious kebab he recommended to get after a boozy night out.

By the time you both arrive at the apartment building, you get all quiet like a drowsy child after a day out at the park and he finds it cute, especially with the way your lips slowly jutting out and you keep widening your eyes to stay awake.

"How about next Friday night we're doing it your way?" he suggests as he keeps the elevator door open for you with his back.

"If that means you'll leave me alone then yes," your eyes turn small as you politely moan into your hand.

"We're going to stay in and binge-watch your favorite show and sleep," he lists everything you mentioned earlier and an idea pops into his head.

"We'll have a pajama party!" He announces along with a poor imitation of tooting horns.

"No!" You flatly reject the idea.

"I'll bring the snacks," he offers.

You steadfastly shake your head.

"Then I'll keep knocking on your door until you let me in," he annoyingly moves into your side until he's rubbing elbows with yours.

"Then I hope you get abducted by aliens," you come out with an absurd wish and it cackles him.

"You would miss me," he confidently remarks with his signature grin.

"Doubtful. Very doubtful."

"Why?"

"I know I'd get to see you again someday—"

Chan can't help himself from smiling but little does he know, you're not done with your sentence yet.

"— in hell."

That wipes the smile off his face, "but I'm a good person. People like me," he says while making an innocent face.

"Because they don't know you, if they did, someone would have kicked your ass already."

"They'd try," Chan easily says with a nonchalant shrug, and at the same time, you both burst out laughing.

This is not flirting and he's aware there's something wrong with this interaction but you know what? He likes every bit of it.

Chan's heart sinks when it's time for the two of you to part ways and before you get to slip away from him, he tugs at the strap of your bag.

"Hey, can't wait for our pajama party," he says.

You pull your bag until the strap slips out of his hand and head to your apartment door.

"No response," he points out, "it's as a yes then."

"No!" You shout.

"So... it's a no?" He asks in confusion.

You push the door to get inside your apartment and lingers by the doorway, facing him.

"No," you cheekily respond and then close the door, leaving him with a different kind of thrill for what comes next.

From the way this person treats your door like a tambourine, you can safely guess that it's Chan knocking on the door for the so-called pajama party.

Ugh, why did you agree to it in the first place? It's so unlike you to let someone in on your space but it doesn't matter whether you let him or not, the boundaries have been crossed so many times that there's no such thing as personal space anymore.

Before letting him in, you check through the peephole, and just as you expected, he comes undressed, literally. He's standing on the other side of the door wearing nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low around his hips.

"Please have mercy on my eyes and put some clothes on!" You shout through the door with your hand holding the knob.

"I don't wear pajamas. This is what I wear to sleep," he responds and you can hear him faintly laughing with your ear pressed on the door.

"And what makes you think you're going to sleep at my place tonight?"

"I don't know. A hunch," he playfully responds.

"Pajama party is officially canceled!" You say through the peephole.

"Okay, okay, I'll put some clothes on," he sighs in defeat.

You watch through the peephole to see if he's really going to his apartment to change. With his broad shoulders, all hunched up, he walks back to his apartment and doesn't even bother to close the door, he grabs whatever lying close to him and puts the dark t-shirt over his head. Even under the poor lighting, the ridges of his muscles are visible and inviting you to feel it with your touch.

As though he knows he's being watched, he looks your way and then trudges his way back to your door. The first thing you see after you open the door for him is his big grin that sends his dimples sinking deep into his cheeks.

With a glare at his empty hands, you ask, "And where's the snack?"

Chan puts his arms on each side of the doorframe and leans in close, towering you with his big figure, proudly he answers, "Ma'am, I am the snack."

Can't tell if he's trying to charm you, intimidate you, or both, doesn't matter because he failed at all of them.

"But you promised!" You can tolerate people when they make jokes about anything but you can't accept when it involves food.

Chan takes his phone out of his pocket and shows it to you, "It's being delivered. See?"

Your jaws unclenched in a second and you open the door wider for him, "You may come in!" You sweetly say with a curtsy.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" He says with a bow before steps into your apartment.

It's ironic how you prepared everything despite you were grudging it, you set the sofa, put some cushions and since he said he was bringing the food, you bought drinks for tonight.

"I have juice, soda, and beers," you list everything you have in your fridge as you're looking at it.

"We'll have the soda for now and beers for later," Chan strategically plans.

The food he ordered only lasts for two episodes and from there, you both run on beers and chips while sitting on opposite sides of each other on the couch with your feet touching.

"I like seeing white stockings on women," Chan comments after seeing the female character wearing it under her dress.

"This is why I hate watching with a man," you say in a condescending tone.

"I'm not even saying anything about her body," he defends himself and playfully rubs his foot with yours.

"Just shh..." you hush him, getting back at him by tackling his foot with yours.

The whole time the TV show is playing, your attention is on him, you're merely curious if he's genuinely invested in it or just wants to annoy you with his presence. From your observation, it seems like it's the former but the jury's still out.

"Wait, is that it?" He asks as the first season has just ended and the credit title rolls down the screen.

"That's the end of the first season," you say, starting to gather the trash on the table and put it into a plastic bag.

"But there's another season, right?" He says, looking distressed that the show ends with a cliffhanger.

"Yeah," you answer.

"Then let's watch it!" He says with a grin and slowly blinking his eyes at you.

"No, Chris, it's late," you show him the time on the screen on your phone that it's close to midnight.

"But I want to know what happens next and I need to know now," he speaks like a spoiled little brat.

You get up from the sofa to get rid of the trash, "You can watch it on your own."

Grabbing the back of your sweater, Chan pulls you hard until you plop down onto the sofa next to you then he puts his arm around you to keep you down.

"Let's just party all night, eh?" He persuades you as he leans in close to the side of your head you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek.

You leer to the side at him and ask, "I can't make you leave, do I?"

"Not a chance," he shortly answers.

Seeing that there's no other way to make him leave but to fulfill his wish, you give in and sit back down on the sofa as Chan hits the play button.

With your stomach full and the exhaustion from the day, and you feel snug on the sofa wrapped in your blanket, you're getting drowsy as the night gets late. You manage to stay awake for two episodes but not long after that, your eyes get really heavy and you can barely keep them open anymore.

Going to rest my eyes for a bit, you tell yourself in your head but close your eyes, slowly drifting into deep slumber.

It's not new that Chan wakes up not knowing where he is, he lifts his head and looks around, taking in his surroundings to give him clues of his whereabouts. One look at the TV screen that shows a question whether he's still watching or not, he immediately recalls where he is, what he's doing here, and—

"Owh!" He lowly gasps as you accidentally elbow him on the ribs.

There he is, lying next to you on the sofa, your back pressed close to his chest he can feel every rise and fall of your body as you're breathing. He doesn't know how it comes to this and he's not complaining though, if anything, it's an opportunity for him to admire you up close.

Cautiously, he removes the hair covering your face to the side and takes an intimate look at your facial features, first at your eyes with your eyelashes fanning out so beautifully, he runs his fingertip down your nose and eventually at your lips which he dreams of kissing.

Do you know that you're so beautiful yet so unaware of it?

Chan gently buries his nose in your neck and inhales your heavenly scent that gets him intoxicated, putting himself in a test of restraint that he'll be likely to fail. All of a sudden, you stir in your sleep and nuzzle closer as if you're seeking warmth from his body heat.

What did he just put himself into? He frustratingly asks in his head.

Soon enough, he can feel your body start to mold against him and it feels nice, you're fulfilling his need for this closeness but unfortunately, he can't control how his body is reacting to this as it wants to do more than just being pressed close to yours.

Chan carefully places his hand on your hips and quietly, he tries to push you away to make a safe space between your bodies even though he has to suffer the loss of your warmth against him.

As if your body knows what he's trying to do, you push back even further and the curve of your ass sits right on the bulge growing inside his sweatpants, putting him at a greater risk.

"Fuck!" he mouthes in distress.

If it wasn't for the TV light that casts a hazy glow on you, he wouldn't notice that your eyes are open and you're waking up to him with his hand on your hips which he's afraid only giving you the impression that he tries to pull you close instead of the opposite.

"I—" he can't say anything without sounding like he's lying because he knows that a greater part of him wanted it, wanting you.

In the next moment, he finds your hand reaching for him and unexpectedly, you put your fingers across his lips, asking him to stop talking as you bring his head close until your lips touch. He doesn't dare to do anything but when you stroke his lower lip with your tongue, his instincts take over.

To no one's surprise, Chan claims your mouth like a starved man.

However, Chan doesn't plunge right into it, he's starting the kiss with innocent brushes of his lips on yours and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again in a deeper kiss.

When he draws back, your lips are parted on soundless gasps of desire. It takes a moment for your eyes to clear enough to focus on him and with a low voice, he says, "I couldn't resist it."

He can't waste a second without kissing you so he indulges in another dizzying kiss, "I thought about kissing you all week."

Days, weeks, months, it comes to a blur to him but he learned the agony of waiting so he counts the time until his lips can reunite with yours again, hopefully, once and for all.

"Now, I can't seem to stop," As he speaks, he threads his fingers into your hair and angles your head back. He trails kisses along your jawline, nips your chin, and kisses the corner of your mouth.

A murmur humming in your throat as he kisses you yet again and your hand flies into his hair, fingertips lazily scratching at his scalp. You suddenly pull away from the kiss and gaze into his dark eyes, "Then don't stop."

So Chan hasn't been the only one, after all.

Planting his mouth on yours again, he twines his tongue with yours, and oh... this taste, this softness, your hand in his hair, kiss after kiss after kiss.

He allows himself to run his fingertips down the length of your arm and smiles when goosebumps ripple outward. Nuzzling your neck, he breathes in the soft scent of your skin and kisses the sweet spot just behind your jaw. Your lips are calling him, but instead, he sucks on your earlobe and bites it, startling a shaky sigh from you.

He allows himself to explore more by running his hand along the length of your body, cupping the curve of your breasts, and even through the layers of fabrics, he can feel the firm buds of your nipple. He so badly wants to pinch it, love on it, but there is too much fabric in the way. He simply resolves it by slipping his hand under and he finds your soft mounds in a second, not wasting another second to fondle on it.

As he kisses you harder, and you arch into his body, you're undulating your hips against the aching bulge inside its confine, forcing him to bite back his groan.

Oh, he hasn’t wanted someone like this in... Has he ever wanted someone like this?

He reels himself back to the present, glancing down at his pale hand and your nipple caught between his fingers, it's an erotic sight indeed that he can't resist pinching it and enjoying your sharp intake of breath.

"Chris..."

The sound of his name falling from your lips is just as unexpected as it is hot. He sees you breathe through your parted lips that's swollen and glistening wet from all the kissing, and then at your wide, lustful eyes that tell him you're ready for more.

An impatient hand glides down your stomach and slips beneath the waistband of your shorts, his gentle fingers caress you with slow strokes. He is touching you there, right where you need him and you shiver, then burrow closer to him as more goosebumps dotted your skin.

"My God, you're drenched," he says and with each syllable, his lips grazed your ear.

Your body clenched hard, clenched even harder when he presses a finger deep into you, filling you. He massages your clit with lazy swirls of his thumb, making you start trembling against him.

He lowers a kiss on you again, tongue and teeth invading your mouth and that's all it takes to send you climbing quick and sharp toward your release.

His mouth finds your ear and with his hot breath tickles you, he lowly asks, "Does it feel good?”

There's no answer but you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you throw your head back, inhaling sharply. Chan can feel tiny muscles fluttering around his fingers, and he knows you are close.

He doesn't need to see to know the answer, he can feel it with his hand, "You’re drenching my palm," he whispers again.

With your hand in his hair, you bring his head close and peck his lips, "Chris, I want it," you mutter as you pull away.

"It?" He asks to confirm if you're thinking of the same thing and he's not taking the wrong sign.

You lightly nod, "Mmh-hmm."

"Condom?"

"No need," you shortly answer, "I'm on the pill."

A jolt of excitement surges all over his body just from the thought that he'll be inside you with no layer of protection and it utterly exhilarates him that he needs to calm down for a minute. He uses the time to remove your shorts and then his sweatpants next without taking his other arm from around you.

Once he settles himself behind you, he puts his hand between your legs, lifting a leg and putting it over his hips, allowing his hard member to get between your legs. It feels a whole lot different to feel how wet you are on every inch of his length.

"Feel that?" He asks you with his mouth nestled close to your ear and his swollen cock rubbing between your folds, "I'm aching for you."

Chan kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck as hard flesh prodding at your sex, making you stop breathing for a moment and you feel nothing but a sensuous stretching that goes on and on until he seated himself fully inside you and oh, he fits perfectly.

"It's too good. You feel– oh... I'm going to lose it," he can't comprehend what he's feeling right now.

The heat, this tightness, so perfect for him and his body asks for nothing but more and more and more of you.

Responding to his body's needs, he withdraws and then thrusts back into you, soon enough, he sets a steady pace. His free hand slides down to your bundle of nerves, touching you there for added stimulation. You grip his wrist, seemingly intending to pull him away, but your hand refuses to cooperate.

The twin assaults of his fingers and his cock that fills you full kindle a flame inside you that spread all over you like wildfire. Your mouth is parted open but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure so instead of words, you communicate how you feel through your body. You spread your thighs wider and writhe to match his thrust for thrust.

There's nothing but the sounds of his hips slapping your ass and his cock that incessantly slipping in and out of you, and he likes how he finds peace despite his body being in pure chaos.

With his mouth lingering close to your ear, he knows you hear every shudder of his breath to the lowest of his sultry moans slipped out of his mouth, and honestly, he would have been embarrassed if it weren’t for your hand tangled in his curls and keep pulling him for a kiss, before finding his hand that rests on your chest and hold it.

"Perfect..." the word tumbles out of his mouth as your fingers slip right between the spaces of his fingers and lace it together.

"Ah, ah, ah," more moans fall out of your lips as you arch into him, and through it all, your eyes locked in a gaze with his, letting him see the pure pleasure that builds up inside you.

Chan has slept with a handful of people, but he’s never been so in tune with someone's body. He’s never been so desperate to please or so elated when he hears you cry his name as you cum around him.

The high takes you over and also your ability to move, speak, and think. You curl up, making you feel smaller against him. The hand interlaced with his tightens as he speeds up the motions of his hips and with one last deep thrust, he joins you in falling apart.

Using this tender moment to pour his affection for you, he's whispering your name and kissing you softly, then slowly, he eases out of—

"No, don't!" Your hand grabs at his hips, hard, nails digging into the flesh, "Stay."

Obeying your words, Chan holds you close, limbs to limb, skin to skin, hearts lying so close to each other with mere flesh and bones in between. He doesn't know what this was, but it sure as hell was not fucking. He kisses you hard and soft to find out.

It's when he pulls away and looks into your eyes that he figures out the answer as the most incredible feeling of being loved washes over him.

When Chan wakes up the next morning. He registers the sunlight on his face, the distant barking of a neighborhood dog, and the delicious smell of buttered toast and coffee, it's all around him and—

It just hits him that he's waking up on your sofa and he burrows into the blanket with a happy sigh once he recalls everything that happened last night to the tiniest details, summoning the butterflies to flutter around in his stomach.

The sound of your footsteps forces him to get out of his daze and he scrambles to get up when you walk past the sofa on your way to the kitchen.

"Morning!" He cheerily greets you while covering his naked lower half with the blanket.

Without looking and with your hands tying your hair, you fainty reply to his greeting, "Morning."

You didn't reply to his level of enthusiasm but that's okay, he just doesn't expect you to be this stoic this early in the day. Instead of searching for his sweatpants, he wraps the blanket around his hips like a towel and waddles his way to the kitchen.

"You're up early," he says, noticing that it's barely seven and he knows you usually leave for work a little after eight, sometimes close to nine.

"Early appointment. Have to do a client's hair. Wedding," you concisely explain as you quietly sip your coffee from a big red mug.

It's strange, the way you speak and how your eyes are looking anywhere but in his direction. For now, he's going to think that you're just tired and not fully meeting your dose of caffeine yet

"Okay, so what's for breakfast?" He asks, excitedly tapping the dining table with his hands and grinning at you.

"Toast and coffee," you say while standing on your toes to get a glass from the top cabinet.

"Anything but coffee, please?" He politely asks, watching you walk the other way to get a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

It's a sunny day but the room shares the same temperature as the glass of orange juice you pour into his glass. He observantly watches you, searching for any clues whether this is how you are in the morning or something is actually off with you.

There's one way to know, first, he takes a small sip of his juice to help with his dry throat and then jabs around the topic, "Last night was fun, don't you think?"

There's no answer and he can't see your reaction toward it when you're standing with your back facing him and he begins to think that it's the latter.

"I'm thinking we should do this again next Friday but I'll get to pick what we're going to watch and you bring—"

"Chris, I'm sorry but..." You swiftly turn on your feet and check the time on the clock, "I have to leave now."

"Sure, yeah, you can't be late for a wedding," he playfully says while keeps searching for your eyes to make you look at him.

You walk around your apartment to gather your things, your phone, and your wallet, stuffing them into a purse. You grab another bag which he guesses is one you usually carry for work and that only confirms that you're indeed leaving for an appointment.

"You can stay for breakfast and use the spare keys to lock the door when you leave," you say those things in a hurry as you drag your bag to the foyer.

He turns on his chair to look at you as he jokes, "We've only slept together twice and you're already giving me your apartment keys?"

Unfortunately, the jokes fall short as he hears nothing but the sound of the knob turning and you're getting out of the apartment.

"Have a great day at work!" He shouts at you but all he gets in response is the door closing and then clicks in place.

Chan can't tell anymore if you're leaving for work or you're leaving him, but it feels like he's getting his karma for always being the one leaving in the morning.

It's wedding season and that explains why there are a lot of scribbles on your calendar, you have a lot of appointments to do this month, and you get so busy that he's hardly seeing you lately.

Work is one thing he can understand but you can't possibly work 24 hours a day without a day off, right? At one point, he should have caught you leaving or coming home from work, whichever it is, the chance never comes to him, not even once.

Chan begins to wonder if you're avoiding him, he knows because there's a slight difference to it and it's in the purpose. You've been purposely doing things to avoid him.

With an excuse prepared in his head, Chan comes knocking on your door the next Friday night. He's been keeping your spare keys and can easily let himself in but that would be impolite, he needs to be on your good side to earn your trust.

After a few times knocking with no answer, he lets himself in but not because he has the spare keys, the door is unlocked so he figures you must be at home and doing something that makes you unable to get the door.

"Anyone's home?" He shouts into the void in your living room and hesitantly walks further inside.

Hearing the loud humming of a hairdryer, he walks to your bedroom. Unexpectedly, you're coming out as he's about to walk in.

"Oh, God!" You gasp in surprise as you hold the front of your bathrobe together, "What are you doing here?"

In contrast, Chan laughs seeing your shell-shocked expression in his presence. He then crosses his arms together and leans the side of his body against the doorframe, not forgetting to wear his grin as he answers to you, "Just checking to see if my neighbor is alive."

"Well, I'm alive," You're talking as you're taking dresses out of your closet, "and I need your help."

Looking at your mood and the way you talk normally to him, he concludes that the thought that you've been purposely avoiding him was just a silly thought after all. Other than that, you need his help and he likes being needed by you.

"I'm at your service," Chan says, permitting himself to step into your bedroom and sit on the end of your bed.

You're standing in front of him, holding up two dresses in your hands, one is a white line dress with a v-neck and the other is a body-hugging velvet dress in a deep burgundy color. Both will look good on you but he needs to know one thing before he gives his vote.

"Are we going out tonight?" He playfully asks, feeling a buzz of excitement filling him.

You turn around to face the full-length mirror while holding the dress in front of you in turn to give you ideas on how it will look on you.

"I have a date," you tell him.

Hearing that, the excitement in his body vanishes in a second and is replaced by a cold shudder of panic. He tries to laugh it off in denial.

"A–a date?" He stammers.

"Uh-huh," You end up settling the dress situation yourself by choosing to go with the white linen dress, "Can you get out of my room so I can change?"

His subconscious has the tendency to obey you, he gets up from the bed and walks out of your room, and he lingers there by the door, contemplating whether he should push the conversation or not.

"With who?" He doesn't want to know but curiosity gets the best of him.

"A guy I met at one of the weddings," you share from inside your bedroom.

"Is this—" he pauses to swallow air, "Is this your first date?"

"Yes and I'm excited," your voice grows louder and soon, the door cracks open and you reveal yourself to him, "Now, tell me I made the right choice?"

He takes a staggering step backward and asks, "On the date or the dress?"

You take a look at yourself on the round mirror hanging on the wall, "Is it too casual? No?"

For a second, Chan forgets about the direness of the situation and takes a good look at you, the dress compliments your shape so well, the hem flares up like a blooming flower and the v-cut neckline offers a modest cleavage, perfect for a first date. If he has to be honest, even without the dress, it won't make you less comely but he hates that you look this good and it's not for him.

"You look... good," he tries to make it sound like your appearance doesn't make any impression on him.

You wipe the excess lipstick on the corner of your mouth then look over your shoulder, "And the date?"

He doesn't expect you to give him the chance to say something about it and obviously, he's going to try his best to intercept your plan.

"Don't you think it's too soon?" He follows you as you head back to your bedroom then stops at the doorway as you enter the bathroom after, "To get on a date."

You take off the hair rollers nestling on the crown of your hair and your hair flows down like big springs, then brush it down with your fingers.

"You told me yourself that I should get out there and find new love," you return his words to him.

That feels like he's just slapped himself in the face. Why did he tell you that? Oh, yeah, that's because he wants you to start opening up so he can let himself in and fill that position.

"But that's not– I just didn't think..." his words trailing off as he can't exactly explain the reason why he said it, not now at least.

You put all of your hair to the front then flip it all together to the back, you're shaking the end with your fingers, sending the sweet smell of your shampoo flying around in the room.

"Didn't think what?" You curiously ask as you apply a fresh coat of lipstick on your lips, the shade is bright red like a flamethrower.

"When I said you should start finding a new love, I was hoping that you could finally see me and..." he can't find another way of telling you without saying it out loud, "perhaps, you can find it in me."

That makes you stop whatever you're doing and turn around on your feet, leaning against the bathroom counter, you look at him in eerie silence, and then out of nowhere, a laugh bursts out of you.

"Chris, stop playing!" You brush past him on the way out of the bathroom.

He's trailing behind you as you pick up a purse from a collection of them in your closet, "I'm not playing," he assures you.

"Okay, yeah, I trust you," you half-heartedly respond, heading out and going to the foyer to pick your shoes next.

"Can you please look at me?" He pleads as he waits for you to make up your mind with your choice of shoes.

"Just look at me, please?" He begs again, desperately.

You take your chosen shoes and hold them in one hand as you hold his gaze, "Okay, I'm looking at you."

In those fierce eyes, Chan finds the courage to assess his feelings and tries to fathom them into words. He inhales air before letting it out in a long, low sigh.

"Don't go on that date," he demands.

"Why?"

"Because I want you here."

"Chris, that's not a good enough reason," you say with a low laugh.

He gently places his hands on each of your elbows and tenderly stares into your eyes, "Then go ahead, ask me that one question."

"What question?"

"Ask me what are we," he steadily holds your gaze even though he feels a whirlwind in his head and chaos stirring inside his chest.

You brush it off with a laugh, "Why should I ask you—"

"Just ask me the question!" He accidentally raises his voice at you and immediately lowers his voice after, he looks down to take a breather before looking back into your eyes, "Ask me what are we!"

It feels like an eternity waiting for you to ask him that but he has the patience and an answer to that, he only needs you to ask him that.

You drop the shoes onto the floor and take a step forward, you hold his gaze as he holds his breath. Deep down, he knows that you'd have to be blind to not see the light of affection in his eyes.

To his dismay, you unexpectedly retreat and pick up everything with you toward the door. With your back turned to him, you say, "I don't want to be late for the date."

It's been an hour since he came back from your apartment and he's still stuck in the denial stage. He's lying in the dark and stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, ignoring his phone that's been tirelessly blaring with notifications.

It's not a rejection if you don't give him a definite, abundantly clear answer, right? Besides, there's a chance that the guy blew the date and you can see that he's the better man. Is he though? Is he any better?

There are two ways to handle this situation. One, he can try to forget all about it, hit call back on one of the girls contacting him right now, get out of here, and distract himself with a physical release. Or two, wait because there's something in him that tells him to wait just a little longer.

But wait for what? Wait until you return from your date? Wait until he sees it happens, you with your new beau, all lovey-dovey next door?

It seems like he's finally progressed into the next stage: anger.

Every thought that crosses his head right now is not nice and he needs an outlet for this anger. He shoots up from the bed, he starts pacing back and forth in the room, hands balled into fists, he gets this urge to punch something, he wants to— No, he can't wait with this ugly feeling slowly taking over him and driving him insane.

"Fuck this," he curses out loud into the void in his apartment, he picks up his phone and texts someone about meeting up tonight.

While typing a text, knocking comes on his door, and whoever it is, they'd better not piss him off or— the knocking comes again, he exhales air out of his mouth to calm down and walks in heavy steps to get the door.

It seems as if his anger wasn't there in the first place, the second he opens the door and sees you, all of those nasty thoughts vanish into thin air.

You're carrying your shoes in one hand and the other is holding one side of the doorframe. You look at him with a smile ever so softly blooms on your face, "So..."

See? It wasn't a rejection. He just needed to wait a little longer and God, he was glad he did.

"So...?" He asks back, holding the urge to smile back at you.

You daringly stare into his eyes as you take a step into his apartment, "So... what are we, Chris?"

It's crazy how your magnetic field is so strong that he can't stand being this close to you and not touching you, his hesitant hands are reaching for you, they retreat and give, doing it for a while until you drop everything off your hands and put your hands around his shoulders. Indirectly permitted him to put his hands on you.

"What are we, mmh?" You ask again with your eyes flickering like they hold stars in them.

"We are..." he considers to let the truth out but what's the fun in that? He needs to get back at you for making him doubt everything earlier, "Neighbors."

"No," you shake your head in disagreement, "You're definitely going to say something else."

Luckily, he's strong enough to hold you steady as you put your whole weight against him, leaving not even an inch of gap between your bodies.

"Someone still has her panties in a twist," he playfully responds with his charming grin on, dimples and all.

"Shame on you because I don't have any panties on," you say with your small smile turning into a broad one.

His eyes widen in slight shock, and his hand automatically glides downward, landing a caress on the curve of your ass and slipping under the hem of your dress to check whether your words are true or not. His fingers edge at the lacy fabric of your underwear and it turns out to be the latter.

"Ugh, you're lying!" He groans in complaint but it doesn't make him less happy, he's elated, and his heart is about to burst.

"Partly."

"How so?"

"Because you're about to take them off," you shamelessly say.

Chan wants to let go of all the things that hold him back. He brings both of your lips together, he kisses you like you're oxygen and he's short on air. He runs his hands down your back to your hips, cupping your sweet ass, and pulls you even closer. You struggle to get closer as he kisses you deep and hard your head tilted to the back, you weave your fingers through his hair as you pour yourself into the kiss.

Everything that happened before this is in the past now, all he knows now is your taste and the hot sighs of your breath, and then this irrepressible want to devour you.

"I'm going to carry you to bed," Chan's plush lips brushing yours as he speaks.

The idea of carrying you to bed is highly appealing to him at the moment. He likes holding you and as messed up as it was, he wants to throw you onto the bed, in the most respectful way.

"Then what are you waiting for, kangaroo boy?"

A sharp gasp escapes your mouth as he swoops you into his arms and carries you in the direction of the bedroom. You have your arms looped around his neck to hold onto and place kisses along his jaw all the way to his bedroom.

Instead of throwing you onto the bed like he planned, he throws both of you onto the bed and it quakes, he immediately props an elbow against the mattress to not put his weights on you.

"God, you're so beautiful," his sigh tells how overwhelmed he is by what he's seeing and what a privilege that he's able to place kisses on such beauty.

When you try to gasp a mouthful of air, he breathes it into you with his hand resting on your jaw, you look up at him, and a starburst of emotion expands inside him. He thinks you see it in his eyes because you softly smile at him.

Giving you time to breathe, he shifts his focus elsewhere, he kisses and sucks on your neck, all the while his hands are keeping your body closely pressed against him, making you aware of the firm flesh prodding your crotch through his blue jeans.

The next thing is his mouth searching for the source of the heat and your body goes into total system failure as his mouth inches closer to where you want him. Between your thighs, you flush and tingle with wanting.

"This smell..." he hums as he buries his nose in your clothed sex, making you able to feel every sharp intake of air he inhales through his nose.

He pries his mouth open and plants it on your heating wetness, not caring about the lacy fabric that blocks him from tasting it raw.

"Mmh..." he deeply hums again, almost like the low roar of a wild animal hunting at night, "I want this smell all over me."

The intensity of your desire frightens and embarrasses you at the same time, you need a little control but control is gone when Chan tugs the waistband of your underwear between his teeth and begins to pull it down your legs.

He places his hands on the back of your thighs and slowly, lifts both of your legs upward as he keeps biting your underwear. You're watching as he tries to take it off of you with such determination.

Once he succeeds, he grabs the underwear from between his teeth and holds it up to show you his latest conquest, "Twisted panties no more," he says with a sly grin.

Instead of tossing it aside, he puts the underwear into the back pocket of his jeans, "I'm keeping it."

There are so many layers of clothing keeping him from feeling your skin but he can start by removing his t-shirt, having no problems showing you his taut muscles and his pale skin that reddens around the chest, neck, and both ears.

Next, Chan grabs your knees, he pulls them apart to bare your sex to his eyes and his chest expands on a sharp inhalation. The look on his face tells it all, he wants you, he wants you so bad that he swallows air, sending his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

It's the first time that he gets to see it open and bare, gushing with essence, tantalizing. He leisurely takes his time to admire it while plotting things he wants to do to it.

He rubs his hands down the sides of your thighs and lowly sighs, without his eyes straying away from the sight between your legs, he says, "You have the prettiest little—”

He thinks he's imagining it but he's not the only one hearing knocks on his apartment door. Sensing someone else's presence, your legs instinctively shut and you pull the hem of your dress down.

"Chris, are you expecting someone?" You ask with your forehead wrinkled in question.

"No," he shortly answers, he doesn't want you to think that he's waiting for someone else other than you, "I don't—"

The knocking comes again a while later, a little too aggressive that both of you can't ignore it anymore.

"Someone is knocking on your door," you say.

"Yeah, but I swear, I don't—"

You place your hand on his waist and look at him, "well, then, get the door and find out."

He'd rather have someone sawing him off of you than having to voluntarily get away from you, whoever this person is will be responsible for what's not going down at this moment.

"Only if you promise you won't change your mind," he tells you with a sly smirk.

"If you don't hurry and get the door, I might," you say back.

"Stay still. Don't move. Not even an inch," he pecks your lips for every warning with both hands cupping your face. He plants another long peck on your lips before dashing toward the front door and thinking of just sending this person away so he can get back to you.

This is where he makes a mistake. He doesn't check through the peephole and opens the door right away, having the faintest idea that catastrophe awaits on the other side of the door.

"Ah, there you are!" The girl says, jumping at him and immediately locking lips with him.

It happens so fast that by the time Chan registers it, the girl pulls away but keeps her arms looped around his shoulders.

"I came here as soon as I received your text," she grabs his chin and kisses his slacked-open mouth, "I hope I didn't make you wait long."

On the other end of the room, he hears your footsteps coming and soon, you come into his sight. You look so calm and he'd prefer a raging sea because with calm water, he never really knows what he's dealing with.

With an enigmatic smile, you look at him and say, "You know what, Chris? I change my mind."

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arieslost · 7 months ago

Text

talk | op81

summary: oscar loves to talk your ear off.

word count: 1,276

masterlist — join my tag list here!

everyone who had told you that oscar piastri wasn’t much of a talker was a bold-faced liar.

that, or maybe they just never got to see that side of him.

before you started dating oscar, you totally believed it. the first few interactions the two of you had were awkward and brief, usually ending in you thinking that he actually hated you and only engaged in small talk to be nice.

the oscar you know now is nothing like the oscar you first met, and even though you’ve been with him for the better part of two years, his ability to talk for hours is still as shocking to you as it was in the beginning.

it started out innocently enough. the first time you hadn’t been able to attend a race, oscar called you the moment he was back in his hotel room. you’d only been dating for five months at that point, and you vividly remember your shock when you accepted the facetime call and he started talking at a mile a minute. you’d barely gotten out a “hello” before he started recapping his entire day in precise detail. he didn’t even stop to take a drink of water in his enthusiasm.

that turned into the two of you developing a routine. every time you couldn’t make it to a race, oscar would call you at the end of the day and tell you everything he’d been dying to tell you.

“you could text me some of this stuff, you know,” you told him once, and he had wrinkled his nose cutely.

“why would i text it to you when i can just tell you about it on the phone?” he’d responded, like your suggestion was completely outlandish.

it’s endearing, really, the way he’s always so excited every time you pick up the phone. like he is right now.

“hi, honey!” he says brightly the moment the call connects and you can see each other’s faces.

“hey, oz,” you smile, your mood immediately lifting at the sound of his voice. “how was your day?”

“oh, i have so much to tell you,” he leans forward, his hair obscuring the camera for a moment before he leans back with a piece of paper in his hand.

“what is that?” you ask, watching as he unfolds it.

“this, my love, is my list.” he says, turning it around so you can see the way the page is full of his writing, not only on the lines but in the margins, too. “if i can read my own handwriting.”

“busy day?” you pull the hood of your sweatshirt further over your head so it covers more of your screen.

“you have no idea. i don’t even know where to start.” he sighs, eyes scanning the paper before he looks back up at the camera. “but i want to hear about your day first.”

“ah, it was okay. boring. i got so used to traveling around with you that i don’t know what to do now that i’m home all by myself.” it’s a lie, of course.

you wouldn’t miss oscar’s birthday for the world, and that was why you’d been so believable when you told him that you were so sorry, but you couldn’t make it to japan for the next race. even thinking about not being with him for his birthday was enough to upset you, so he bought it easily. conspiring with mark and lando, you’d gotten your hands on a plane ticket and formed a plan to get to the hotel with oscar being none the wiser.

which is how you’re here, at the end of the hallway on his hotel floor, waiting for the perfect time to interject.

“oh, i have to tell you about how free practice went, the second session, not the first,” he’s saying, squinting a little at the paper. “i wrote it over something else and i can’t see what it says. whatever. anyway, it’s raining here, and, like, half the cars didn’t end up going out for the second session. i was just trying to do my best for the session but i ended up setting the fastest lap! i didn’t even know until i got out of the car. did you watch? i don’t know if you did, i forgot to ask you, but i think it was a 1:34 or something like that. i could’ve been faster, obviously, but it was raining. its still raining right now actually which kind of sucks. i wouldn’t mind if you were here, but it’s just miserable and cold.” he pauses to take a breath. “wait, where are you?”

well that you weren’t expecting. “at home… where else would i be?” you reply, hoping that your confusion looks genuine.

“your background looks… i dunno.” he presses his lips together. “doesn’t look the same.”

“well, i’m at home,” you repeat, trying to come up with something on the fly. “pretending that i’m talking to you face to face instead of through the phone, like always.”

“ah, yeah. i do that all the time,” he admits, giving up on his scrutinization of what little he can see behind your hood.

“i miss you,” he says then, and its absolute hell knowing you can’t knock on his door just yet.

“i miss you too, oz.” you whisper. “keep telling me about your day?”

“sure, honey.” he gives you a soft smile, once again consulting his piece of paper. “so after the second session, i went and got dinner— oh wait, i forgot to tell you what happened earlier! i left the hotel room—”

you were hoping to let him tire himself out a bit from talking so much before approaching the door, but with every little detail of his day he shares you wish more and more that he was saying it directly to you and not through the phone, so you give up on being patient and knock three times.

“hold on, baby. someone’s at the door.” he says on the other end of the call, getting up from where he’s sitting on the bed and leaving his phone behind, so you end the call to free both of your hands.

the look on his face when he opens the door is priceless. “you’re joking.”

“i figured you should tell me the rest in person,” you say. “besides, i’d be damned if i missed your birthday.”

“you’re joking,” he repeats, pulling you and your suitcase into the room and wrapping you into a tight hug. “you’re actually here.”

“of course i’m here.” you laugh, kissing his shoulder through the loose material of his worn out t-shirt. “i don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”

“i’m so happy,” is all your enthusiastic, talkative boyfriend says before kissing you, smiling against your lips the whole time.

“you hung up on me?” its the first thing he says once the two of you are cuddled up in bed, and your jaw drops.

“seriously? i’m right here, and you’re gonna come for me for hanging up on you?”

“i would never hang up on you, but whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but cuddles you closer all the same. “okay, you have to know what lando told me last night about this one thing he did over winter break. it doesn’t sound bad at first, but i promise you it gets so much worse.”

you sigh in content, happier than anything to be in oscar’s arms and listening to him talk your ear off for the foreseeable future. you would never lie about it— you don’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.

note: happy oscar dayyy!! wishing my fellow aries the best birthday ever and i hope you all enjoyed this 🫶🏼 i low key hate it but hopefully that’s just me lolz

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @lightsoutletsgo

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upat4amwiththemoon · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, I know this is 2 years after you wrote it, but I just found the piece you wrote between Kate Bishop and Natasha’s Daughter Reader. ‘A goddess’. What can I say. I found myself liking the idea and as I was reading it through. I realised I would be curious to see a part 2 if you were up for it. No doubt along the lines of Yelena finding out Kate is dating her niece. Let’s just say the whole concept with Clint finding out was amusing and wondered how it would then play out with Yelena.

A goddess | 2

Summary: Mysterious girl with an assassin mother.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!Romanoff!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader, Yelena Belova x niece!reader

Warnings: mother bear Natasha, auntie bear Yelena

Word count: 1516

a/n: I actually started writing a second part two years ago but then kinda forgot it :DD

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69 @scarsw1fe

masterlists | guidelines

All parts: part 1, part 2

”We’re home!” Y/N yells into the seemingly empty house, slamming the door shut after Kate steps inside.

“Kitchen.”

Y/N snorts at the short answer from her mother. “She doesn’t sound too excited.” Kate mumbles, taking off her shoes and jacket.

“She is.” Y/N reassures. “She’s just..cautious. You know how she is.” She mumbles quiet enough so her mother doesn’t hear.

The couple walk into the kitchen, where they see Natasha stirring a pot of mac and cheese while looking at her phone intently. “Why are you cooking?” Y/N frowns, looking at her mother’s mess of a braid.

“What? You’re the only one allowed to cook in this house?”

“I’m the only why knows how to cook.” She comments with a teasing grin that Natasha ignores with a roll of her eyes. “We’re going to my room.”

“No, no, no.” Now Natasha turns to look at them, though she mostly ignores Kate. “If you two want to spend time here, you do it on the living room.” She stares at Y/N with raised brows.

“Wh-“

“Living room, where I can see you two.” Natasha states. “Or, Kate leaves.”

Letting out a huff, Y/N grabs Kate’s hand and pulls her to the living room that is in the clear view of the kitchen. Kate sits on the couch with a perfect posture, her eyes straight forward, staring at the empty television screen.

“You can calm down.” Y/N whispers, bumping Kate’s shoulder with her own as she puts the television on.

“She’s staring at me.”

Y/N glances at Natasha. The woman is glancing at the two often, but she isn’t full on staring at them. “She’s busy cooking, for some reason.” She smiles, leaning against Kate. Their touches are always as innocent as possible around Natasha.

For the next hour or so they talk, quietly, and watch the television, until a knock on the front door interrupts them.

Frowning, Y/N turns to look at Natasha, who is cleaning her hands and about to go to the door. “Who is coming over?”

“Yelena.”

With widened eyes, she curses and stands up quickly, turning off the television. Kate is staring at her, starting to panic too. “What? What’s going on?”

“If you are afraid of someone in my family, be afraid of Yelena.” She whispers harshly, carefully listening to Natasha and Yelena’s voices by the door.

Kate’s eyes widens too as she stands up, her body rigid again. “Fuck, right, she’s your aunt.” She quickly starts brushing invisible dust off of her clothes. “Are you…going to tell her about us?”

“Of course not, she’d kill us both.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Kate whispers to herself, taking a step back from Y/N so they wouldn’t be so close to each other.

Yelena and Natasha finally walk into the living room. “There’s my niece!” Yelena yells out with her arms wide. Y/N smiles, walking to her to be embraced by her aunt.

“Hey, Yel.” She lets out a giggle as she gets bear hugged. Once they pull away from each other, Y/N gestures towards Kate, who Yelena finally notices. “This is-“

“Kate Bishop!” Yelena grins. “I know you. You are an Avenger too.”

Kate’s eyes are widen when she gets addressed. “Uhh, yeah.” She nods a couple times too many to be considered normal. “Yeah, that’s…that’s me.”

“So shy this one, eh?” Yelena glances at Natasha, who answers by nodding with a small smirk on her face.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Y/N glares at her mom, not wanting Yelena to know about her relationship, not yet at least. She knows her aunt will always be supportive of her, but dating Kate Bishop, the young and reckless Avenger, would cause too much stress for her.

“Let’s go eat.” Natasha gestures for everyone to go to the kitchen. “I made enough mac and cheese to feed a town.”

“That’s why you’re my favourite sister.” Yelena’s sing songy voice makes Natasha roll her eyes.

Y/N and Kate glance at each other as the two adults go into the kitchen. They walk into the kitchen right after, taking their seats opposite of them. Natasha brings the pot to the table, opening the lid and putting a ladle inside. “Guests first.” Yelena picks the ladle right away, scooping a generous amount of food on her plate. “Yelena!”

“What?” She frowns, taking one more scoop just in case. “You said guests first.”

“I meant Kate. You basically live here.”

Yelena scoffs, already eating. “Whatever. Kate Bishop can wait.”

“Yes, I can wait.” Kate states with a tight lipped smile on her face. She takes the ladle for escape the looks she gets.

Y/N bumps her leg against Kate’s under the table, it’s meant to be a comforting touch, but it makes Kate spill some of the mac and cheese on the table.

“Shit!” Her face turns red. “Sorry! I didn’t…curse.” She clears her throat, eyes wide from as the mortification settles in her body.

Y/N stares at her, trying to give her some sort of subtle look to get a grip, but nothing hoes unnoticed by the two ex spies. “What’s going on here?” Yelena waves her fork between Kate and Y/N.

“Nothing!”

“I’m just a clutz!”

“They’re dating.”

A silence falls over the table. Kate and Y/N’s eyes are wide as they stare at smirking Natasha, the latter is glaring at her mother.

Yelena sets her fork down. “Say that again?”

“They’re dating.”

“Why is Kate Bishop dating my niece?” Yelena is staring at the couple with stern eyes, neither of them knowing if the question was directed at them. “Well?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Because.” Is all she says, her arms crossed over her chest.

An extremely dramatic gasp leaves Yelena’s mouth. “Do not because me! I taught you how to sass, you aren’t supposed use it against me.” She furrows her brows, a look of betrayal on her face as she keeps her eyes on her niece. Y/N has always found her dramatics amusing, but they seem less fun when they’re directed at her.

“I don’t have to explain my relationship to you. To either of you.” She glances at both of them.

“Yes you do. You were supposed to tell me first, so I could scare your girlfriend around and then I’d help you tell Natasha.” Yelena states, having thought this situation through many times. “Why was I not the first one to know?”

“Because mom walked in on us.” Yelena’s whole face screws up. “No!” Y/N quickly points at her. “She walked in on us kissing, we were only kissing.”

Shaking away the disgusting thoughts, Yelena turns to Kate with a glare. “What are your intentions with my niece? Why are you dating her?”

Her eyes widen. “I-“ she looks between Yelena and Natasha, suddenly feeling like the room is overheating, “because I love her.”

“You love me?”

She turns to look at Y/N. “Of course I do.”

“This is how you tell my niece you love her for the first time?” Yelena gapes at her, the look on her face not getting any better. “Where are the flowers and romantic gestures?”

“Yelena!” Y/N groans, throwing a piece of napkin her way. It doesn’t fly far.

Kate’s mind is short circuiting, everything is happening so quickly. She doesn’t know whether to fear Yelena or continue confessing her love to Y/N. So, she stands up. “I can get flowers!”

“Sit down, Kate.” Y/N pulls her down back to the chair. “Everybody calm down. We are dating, neither you or mom can do anything about it, and that’s it.” She turns to Kate. “I don’t need flowers or romantic gestures, I love you too.”

Letting out a breath, Kate nods with a somewhat relieved smile. “Okay.” She nods and turns to Yelena. “I really love Y/N, and just like I told Natasha, I really hope to get your support to continue seeing her. I will never ever hurt her, I know you will hunt me down if I do.”

“Damn right I will.” Yelena mumbles. “Fine, Kate Bishop. But I will keep my eyes on you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yelena gives her a look. “Miss. Belova, Yelena, I mean.” Kate coughs, downing half of her water so she wouldn’t keep talking.

“Kids these days.” She shakes her head and goes back to eating the mac and cheese like nothing happened.

Natasha, who preferred to enjoy the show rather than contribute to it, grins at Y/N. “Eat up honey, the food’ll get cold.”

“I will get back at you.” She mumbles, sending a soft glare at her mother’s way, though she really doesn’t mean it. “You okay?” Y/N sets her hand on Kate’s thigh.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” Kate shoves a forkful of food in her mouth.

Y/N giggles and kisses her cheek, ignoring the the looks her mom and aunt give her. She starts eating, hoping the rest of Yelena’s visit would be less eventful.

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banj0possum · 1 year ago

Note

I immediately apologize for the bad English!

How does Caspian plan to keep the fem!reader underwater? Or does he have another plan? thank you, your work is very nice🛐

ill be making this gn since its a part 2 but if you want a one-off thing with a fem!reader, just request it! :3

Also sorry for the long hiatus again but here's the long awaited part 2 ! yaay you're not dead !! :D

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader Pt. 2

CW: Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con licking (reader is asleep), idk Caspian being a delulu icon

🌊 You wake up with a throbbing headache and a vague memory of what transpired before you blacked out.

🌊 The feeling of overwhelming pressure and deepness comes back to you, memories start to come back as you see a red mark on your arm.

🌊 You remember now, the screams and cries of your classmates ring in your ears before the memory of being dragged down to the depths hit you like a wave.

🌊 a splash of water pulled you out of your thoughts, it was then you looked around at the place you were in.

🌊 It looked like you were in a cave illuminated by algae and glowing sea creatures. the cavernous area was sandy and a bit wet with a deep pool which led to an underwater tunnel, it was the only entrance and exit to the cave from what you can see.

🌊 Behind you was a house built out of a shipwreck, the broken boards of the deck repaired with random planks and cloths.

🌊 "Honey~ I know you're a bit out of sorts right now but uhm..could you help me out a bit~?" a familiar voice echoed throughout the cave.

🌊 You gasp and instinctively stand up and back away from where the voice came from. Caspian was lying on the shore, a net full of what seems to be canned food and fish tied around his waist like a satchel.

🌊 "My treasure~! I know you're excited to explore your new home, but can you help me get to shore first~" Caspian coos as he smiles at you awkwardly, his large tail flopping on the sand.

🌊 You grab a piece of driftwood and hold it like a weapon. "D-Don't come any closer!" you yell at him nervously, afraid of what he might do after you saw his capabilities, and his sharp teeth..

🌊 "My sweet, you have nothing to worry about~! Why would I ever hurt you~? Those mean humans tried to hurt us! You'd never do that to me now would you~?" He tries to calm you down.

🌊 It takes a while for you to calm down considering how confused and scared you were, but with no way out and Caspians lack of intention to hurt you, the only thing left to do was to just sit and try to think logically about the situation.

🌊 Caspian tries to help you make sense of your little predicament, it was mostly him making an excuse to hold you close because "Am I not able to help you relax my treasure~?"

🌊 So you're in a cave after getting kidnapped brought to safety by a mermaid, how fun...

🌊 You has no choice but to accept your new lifestyle, after all, the only out was an underwater cavern, and you had no idea how deep or long it was. Caspian might not be the best at moving on land, but without him, you'd drown if you attempt to leave.

🌊 Once you told the siren that you weren't going anywhere soon unfortunately, He lit up and gave you a big, soaking wet hug. "Oh my treasure! You'll be happy here, I promise~!" He peppers your face with kisses, some making you shiver at the thought of his sharp teeth being so close to your flesh.

🌊 He'd go out every day to get food for you and him, sometimes surprising you with gifts!

🌊 He knows you like reading, so any book or parchment that he finds is immediately brought to you so you won't be so bored <3

🌊 More often than not they're too wet to actually read, but you appreciate the effort you suppose.

🌊 You also had to explain what cooking is to Caspian and that humans can't eat fish raw...and alive..

🌊 Get ready to be showered with pearls and pretty shells and treasure! Caspian is a bit picky when it comes to his own horde so anything that he considers nice but not on par with his tastes goes to you~!

🌊 He would always ask to sleep with you in your bed, and he doesn't take no for an answer.

🌊 "It's cold my treasure~! Could you warm me up~?"

🌊 "It gets so lonely in the water~ May I stay in bed with you my love~?"

🌊 "But I got all those nice things for you~!"

🌊 He would keep whining and fussing until you agree. He doesn't care at all that your sheets are all now soaked.

🌊 If you tell him to dry off first, he will! But you'll have to pay him with a kiss~

🌊 He may or may not sniff your hair while you sleep...and maybe lick your neck..

🌊 He can't get himself to sleep sometimes, he'd just watch you sleep the whole time. What can he say? You're too irresistible~!

🌊 Sometimes he'd even whisper sweet things into your ear, promising you the world if you'd let him.

🌊 More often than not, he sings you to sleep. The anxieties of never seeing your family again and living off of just fish and other sea creatures was getting to you, not to mention the many hours of being alone in a cave.

🌊 His siren song lulled you to bed every night. No matter how much you distanced yourself away from him, he was always able to calm you down with his voice.

🌊 "Hush now my dear~...You'll learn to like it here~ And one day, we'll be married and live happily ever after~ Just like in your stories~ Just you wait~..."

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thewritingrowlet · 2 months ago

Text

The Twins and Their Queens pt. 1, ft. NMIXX Jiwoo

tags: blowjob, creampie

length: 11k+

author's note: this marks the start of another (mini) series, where we follow the lives of Shane and Shaun, Harvey's little twin brothers. For now, I think the series will have 3-4 parts just like The Outing Trip, but time will tell.

Jiwoo wakes up feeling excited today, and she has a very good reason for it: she has secretly made a promise to cook for you to celebrate the 2nd anniversary early, and today, precisely 7 days before the actual anniversary, is the day to do so.

She contains her excitement as she slowly and carefully gets off the bed. To be sure that you won’t wake up and spoil the surprise, she puts a spell on you—she even wiggles her index finger around like a wand for good measure. “Stay asleep, Shane—stay freaking asleep. You’re very tired after working all day yesterday, and you want to sleep until the day changes again.” She hears a hum escape through the small gap of your lips, which makes her confident that the spell is working. “Good boy,” she pats you through the air.

She tippy-toes her way out of the bedroom and gently closes the door behind her; she’s doing everything she can to make as little noise as possible. She looks towards the TV to find the small clock sitting on the shelf: 5:04 a.m. “Should be plenty of time,” she says to herself.

Jiwoo ties her hair in a bun as she prepares to start cooking. She grabs some items from the fridge and sets them on the counter next to her phone. “Right, so,” she opens her memo app and looks at the ingredients list, “noodles, boneless chicken thighs, potato, and onion—that should be everything.”

She drizzles a bit of cooking oil into a non-stick pan that she has prepared and— “oh, wait, the chicken.” She was supposed to cut the chicken into cubes first, so she turns off the burner and places the chicken on a cutting board. Jiwoo skillfully cuts the chicken and then turns her attention back to the pan. “Now we can really start,” she says.

Jiwoo throws in the small pieces of chicken into the hot pan and stirs it around, making sure that it’s cooked through. After that, she tosses in the potato and onion (that she has chopped into cubes secretly yesterday before you got home) and stirs again for a few minutes. Once the potato becomes a bit translucent, she drizzles some more oil and adds black bean paste into the mix. “2 cups of water, okay.” Jiwoo grabs a measuring cup from the cupboard and fills it with water, repeating it again after that to meet the needed measurements. “Hey, Nudle, start a 10-minute timer for me,” she says to her phone, and it responds to her in its catchy voice.

She decides that she’ll use the time to wash the dirty knife and cutting board and wipe the dining table clean. After that’s done, she lies on the sofa to catch her breath. “I hope he doesn’t wake up now,” she thinks to herself while eyeing the bedroom door. For some odd reason, suspense enters Jiwoo’s mind; it’s as if she was watching a horror movie. “Oh, God, please don’t wake up. Han Jaehyun, please don’t wake up—not when I’m this close.” The ring from her phone steals her attention, and she immediately turns it off, concerned that maybe you’ll hear it and wake up. “Okay, okay,” she takes a few deep breaths to calm down, “everything is fine—everything is just fine.”

Jiwoo makes her way to the kitchen again to cook the noodles, which is the second last step to this sneaky adventure. She brings a pot full of water to a boil and throws in the noodles. They’re not dried noodles, so cooking them will only take around a minute, maybe a minute and a half. After that’s done, she turns off the burner and— “FUCK!” She accidentally touches the edge of the hot pot when reaching for the strainer, thus forcing her to let out a scream of profanity because of the combination of shock and pain.

“Are you okay, babe?” Your sudden presence shocks Jiwoo to the core; she didn’t expect you to sneakily come out of the bedroom like this, hence the little jump. That said, she currently has a bigger problem on her hands—literally. “O-oppa,” she says weakly, in pain from the burn, “h-help me, please.” Jiwoo briefly explains that her fingers are burning, so you drag her over to the sink and run some water on her hands. “What were you up to, baby?” You ask in a gentle voice as quiet sobs escape your girlfriend’s lips. “I-I was making some jjajangmyeon for you, oppa.”

You don’t know what to feel right now: you’re touched that she’s making a surprise for you, but at the same time, you hate seeing her get hurt like this, even if it was an accident. “Oh my God, baby,” you feel like your heart is being wrung, “are you feeling better, though? Is this working?” She nods and pulls her hands away from the sink, not forgetting to thank you for the help. You quickly glance at her face and see that there are tears on her plump cheeks. You turn her face towards you and gently wipe her tears with your thumbs, putting on a kind smile in the process.

“You can continue, babe; I’ll watch.” You place a hand on the small of her back and keep an eye on her as she strains the noodles and divides them into the two bowls. Jiwoo then pours a nice amount of the black sauce mix into the bowl. “Let’s eat, oppa,” she says. You stop her from grabbing her bowl and instead pull her into a lifted hug.

“Thank you for all of this, baby; I appreciate everything, seriously,” you say right into her ear. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” she replies in a sad tone, “fuck, you’re so fucking stupid, Kim Jiwoo.” “Oh, c’mon, don’t say such thing,” you deny her attempt at self-deprecation, “you just had a little accident, babe—it doesn’t take anything away from your efforts, trust me.” Jiwoo lets out a hum, and you take it as a sign that she accepts your consolidation. “Now let’s eat, baby. This looks so damn good, and I can’t wait to shove it into my mouth,” you say, hyping her up.

You lower her gently onto one of the two chairs at the table and spray kisses all over her head. “Oppa, please, the food will get cold,” she tries to make you stop. You do stop, but before you grab the bowls from the counter, you turn her head towards you and come in for a kiss. It feels like she’s not too interested in kissing, but when you try to pull away, Jiwoo chases you. “Thank you, oppa,” she says after breaking the little tangle. “The pleasure is mine, baby.”

You take the two bowls from the counter and place them on the table. “Thank you for the meal, baby,” you say. Hearing you thank her again makes Jiwoo feel better about all of this, and it looks like she’s not too upset about “failing” the surprise. “I swapped out the pork belly for chicken, oppa,” she informs you as her chopsticks dance in her bowl, mixing the sauce mix with the noodles.

“Oh!” The first mouthful takes your soul high to the sky, making your body sink limply into the chair. “Oh, my—oh my God, Jiwoo-yah,” your eyelids shut tight as you savor the taste, “this is incredible—the chicken is soooo juicy, too.” Unfortunately, you can only chew for so long before you must swallow. Fortunately, you still have plenty of this heavenly food in your bowl. “Thank you for the meal, baby,” you repeat, “thank you so, so, so, so much.” Your sweetness makes Jiwoo feel better once again, and her lips, without her realizing, are forming a wide smile. “Th-thank you, oppa,” she fans her red cheeks to cope with the heat.

You keep your attention on your bowl, shoving more and more food into your mouth at an uncontrollable pace. “Howy shid,” you swallow the food in your mouth before continuing, “I don’t have the adjectives, but I know my brothers would fight to have a bite.” Jiwoo can’t take it anymore. She rushes to you and squeezes your cheek in playful aggression. “Youuuuuu,” she kneads your face like they were bread dough, “you are sooooo—arghhhhh.” You let out unintelligible sounds as your face contorts from her touch. “B-babe, stop,” you hold her wrists to halt her, “you haven’t even taken a bite, have you?”

With a sigh, she returns to her seat and puts some noodles in her mouth. She starts chewing in silence while her eyes roam around. “Hmm,” she rubs her chin as she thinks about the taste, “could use a bit more salt, but yeah, this is pretty good.” “Pretty good? What do you mean pretty good? This is very good,” you argue. Your girlfriend lets out a long sigh in defeat. “Fine,” she says, “thank you for the kind words, oppa—I love you.”

You leave your seat and pull her onto her feet. “You know what I want, don’t you?” You expect her to come in for a hug, but no, she’s getting down on her knees. “Wait, wait, not that one,” you pull her onto her feet again, “I meant this.” You wrap your arms around her and make sure your hands meet perfectly on the small of her back. You whisper all the praises you can come up with, and most importantly: “I love you, precious. I love you so, so much and thank you for cooking for us this morning.” Jiwoo responds by giving you a peck, letting you know that the praises are well received.

“Come on, oppa, let’s shower,” she pulls away from the embrace, “I’ll take care of this, so you can go first.” You thank her one more time—you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve thanked her so far—and make your way towards the bathroom while Jiwoo stays behind to wash the dishes.

In the silence, Jiwoo finds herself grinning widely. “That was a success in my book,” she giggles, “one point for Kim Jiwoo—whooo, let’s go!”

“Oppa, do you think I can work at Harvey-oppa’s company? Will he take me in?”

“First of all, why do you want to work for him? Is there something wrong with your current job?”

“Nothing is wrong, but I feel like working for him would make me feel more motivated—y’know, he’s family and all that.”

Your heart flutters a little when you hear Jiwoo refer to your brother as family; she understands the importance of family and sees your brothers as her own, and you’d like to think that this is a good sign for the relationship going forward.

You clear your throat to focus back on her. “Okay, so do you want me to talk to him? We can call him now,” you offer her some help. Jiwoo says that she’ll try updating her CV and send an application first, and if that doesn’t work, then she’ll consider resorting to nepotism—not the prettiest or classiest approach to say the least, but it does have a high chance of success. “Okay, you do that,” you say, “maybe I’ll join you one day.”

“Why aren’t you working for Harvey-oppa? Is that not what mama and papa want for you and Shaun-oppa?”

“Yes, but Yunho-hyung is paying me very handsomely, and I don’t feel like leaving his company at the moment.”

“Ckckckckck,” Jiwoo shakes her head, “imagine not working for your brother because someone else pays you more—couldn’t be me.”

“I need the money to buy a ring and a house for you, baby,” you say in your head while putting on a smile as a front. “Well, it’s time to go to work—let’s get changed, babe.” You and Jiwoo exchange pecks for good luck and walk towards the bedroom together to get changed.

Jiwoo boots up her laptop as soon as she arrives at her cubicle. “CV, CV—where is my CV,” she browses through a bunch of work-related folders to find it, and she finds this file named “CV KIM JIWOO” that was last modified around a year ago. Before she opens this file, she looks around to make sure no one is watching—it’d be awkward if someone found out Jiwoo is trying to leave this company for another.

Jiwoo scrolls up and down through her CV, trying to figure out which part is out-of-date, and she finds that only the experience and skills need to be updated. She adds one more bullet point to the list of experience and explains briefly the things she’s accomplished in her current company, such as projects she’s taken a part of and awards she’s received. Just those two things alone take up over half a page since Jiwoo is very good at her stuff and well-liked by her co-workers, which means that she’s very often included on projects—it also means that she makes a lot in bonuses since each project usually comes with one. Jiwoo’s cursor hovers over a particular project that she’s very proud of, considering its complexity and how well she did her part. “If this doesn’t land me a job at Harvey-oppa’s company, then HR is cooked in the head and he needs to find replacements,” she says to herself.

Moving on, she adds some new information to the skills section of her CV. She recently got 855 on a TOEIC test and is very proud about it, so she replaces her old score of 820 with the new one. “I’m sure someone of foreign descent like him will appreciate good English proficiency,” she thinks to herself. One thing to note, however, is that her application will first arrive in the hands of HR and not one of the big bosses like Han Harvey, and she hopes that everything written on her CV is enough to impress the lower-level managers—if she can help it, she wants to get the job legitimately, not through nepotism.

Before she wraps this up and starts working, she reads her CV one more time from the top. “Name is correct, date of birth is also correct, address is—hmm, should I use Shane-oppa’s address?”

While Jiwoo thinks about it, someone taps her shoulder from behind. “What the—oh my God, unnie!” Jiwoo just got caught off-guard and red-handed by her co-worker, Soodam, who must’ve snuck up behind her when she was deep in her thoughts. “Hey there,” Soodam greets Jiwoo with a smile, “looking to jump ship, cookie?” Jiwoo minimizes the window on her laptop and turns to Soodam with red cheeks. “P-please don’t tell anyone about this, unnie; I-I just want to explore my opportunities,” she says. “Do you think I can go with you, Jiwoo-yah?” Soodam’s question startles Jiwoo. “Y-you want to leave too, unnie?”

Soodam explains that she thinks she’s not getting paid enough for the amount of work that she does and would like to “explore her opportunities,” just like Jiwoo. “I’ll talk to my boy—” Jiwoo covers her mouth to stop herself, but Soodam catches the slip. “Boyfriend, huh? What can your boyfriend do for us?” Before the conversation goes even further, Jiwoo pulls Soodam closer towards her. “My boyfriend is the brother of this other company’s boss,” she whispers to her, “I told him I’d try doing things legitimately first before… y’know.” “I’m with you,” Soodam says, “good to know that you have insider ties, though.”

After parting ways with Soodam, Jiwoo pulls out her phone to text you. “Oppa, who do I send my CV to?” She sees that you’re not online currently, so she locks her phone and gets ready to start working for possibly her last day at this company.

You see Jiwoo’s text on your notification bar, but you don’t want to answer right away; you first need a second opinion on this matter, and there’s no one more qualified for that other than your dear sister-in-law. “Noona, I need you; please pick up,” you say while waiting for her to pick up the call.

“Hello, this is Kim Yooyeon.”

“Oh, yes,” you sigh in relief, “noona, this is Shane.”

“Yes, I know,” you hear a chuckle from her over the phone, “can I help you? Are you looking for your brother?”

“No, no, I’m not looking for him—I’m looking for you,” you say, “can we talk? Do you have time?”

“Yeah, sure—what do you need?”

“This morning Jiwoo asked me if she could work for Hyunjin-hyung because she said it’d make her feel more motivated because he’s family, and now I’m wondering if I should tell him about Jiwoo’s intentions.”

Your noona stays silent for a moment, trying to come up with a solution.

“Jiwoo said she wanted to do it legitimately, but I want to help her—you know, with insider ties” you pile on.

“Well, in that case,” she says, “I’d say just let her do it her way first, and if that doesn’t work, then we’ll consider other methods.”

“Do you know when Hyunjin-hyung is coming home, by the way?”

“No, I don’t,” she lets out a deep sigh, “I miss him more than anyone, I can assure you that.”

“Noona,” you get ready to move on to the next subject, “I want to get married.”

“Huh? What?” The suddenness most likely surprises Yooyeon. “Wait, what? Why so sudden? Have you even talked to Jiwoo about this?”

“No, I haven’t—I just envy the way the both of you are so in love with each other,” you say, “do you think I have a chance at marriage, noona?”

“What the h—well, yes, I do; I think you’re a nice guy and Jiwoo is a nice girl,” she says, “you know, you’re being such a terrible little brother right now—how can you ask a woman whose husband hasn’t been home for a week about marriage?”

You’re not sure where she’s going with this. “Sorry, what?”

”Ugh, forget it,” she says, and based on her tone, you can picture her rolling her eyes, “anyway, like I said, let Jiwoo do it her way and then we’ll see what things look like.”

You thank her for the help, and after exchanging goodbyes, you hang up the call, and now that you have an answer to this equation, you turn your attention to Jiwoo. Via text, you send Han Group’s HR’s email address to her. You end the text with, “You said you wanted to do this legitimately, so I wish you good luck, baby.” “Thank you, daddy,” she replies, “I’ll send it right now—I love you!” Your eyes blink rapidly in a combination of disbelief and startlement; she just called you daddy as if you were in the bedroom. “Time and place, Jiwoo-yah—my God.” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.” You reply to her and delete her text just to be safe.

You always pick up Jiwoo at her office after work, and today is no different. You stop on the side of the road right in front of the glass front doors of her building and wait for her to come out. After a few minutes, you see her walking out with another woman. “Wait, that’s—”

You jump out of the car (after looking at the side mirror first) and meet the two women. “Oppa, this is my co-worker, Soodam-unnie. Unnie, this is my boyfriend,” Jiwoo introduces the two of you. Soodam’s eyes widen in shock, “wait, are you—” “No, I’m Shane—you’re thinking about my twin brother,” you cut her off, and you swear that you can see her sighing in relief.

For context, Shaun, who is always into older women, tried courting this Soodam lady a few years ago, only to find out that she was engaged to another man. That was almost disastrous, by the way; your older brother even had to intervene.

Jiwoo looks at the two of you in confusion but quickly moves on to another subject. “Soodam-unnie also sent an application to Harvey-oppa’s company,” Jiwoo briefly gives some context. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Inside, however, you wonder if it is indeed so, because Shaun works at Han Group, and considering that he is in a relationship with someone else, this could be problematic. “This is not your problem, Shane,” you think to yourself.

You shake hands with Soodam with a smile on your face—a smile that’s hiding awkwardness behind it. “Nice to meet you, miss,” you say, and she says the same to you. You shoot a quick look at Jiwoo, who immediately catches the signal, and the two of you get ready to part ways with Soodam. Jiwoo hugs Soodam and then walks with you to the car, leaving Soodam alone on the side of the road.

In the private space of your car, Jiwoo airs her confusion. “Do you know her, oppa? Why did you mention your twin?” You shortly explain to her the history of Shaun and Soodam and why Soodam was visibly startled to see you. “So Soodam-unnie reacted like that because she must’ve mistaken you for Shaun-oppa—did I get that right?” “You did, baby,” you say, “and now I’m concerned that they’ll see each other again if she moves to Han Group.” “My God.” Jiwoo leans back in her seat as she tries to process this shocking reveal. “Don’t tell Seeun-noona about any of this, babe; we don’t want to get Shaun in trouble,” you say to her.

After catching up with your family’s little history, Jiwoo mentions that she wants to eat out for dinner. You ask if she has preferences, and she says that she wants to get tteokbokki. “You and your tteokbokki, babe—you’d think you would’ve got sick of it by now,” you comment, earning a giggle and a playful slap from her.

After a short drive, you find yourself stopping in front of an alley where Jiwoo’s favorite tteokbokki restaurant is located. You get out of the car with her and make your way towards the restaurant. She’s been to this place a lot; the middle-aged lady at the cashier (who you assume is the owner) instantly recognizes her and guesses that she wants the usual.

There aren’t that many empty seats at the moment; it seems like a lot of people have the same idea and want to have tteokbokki after work. You scan around the interior and find a table in the far corner of the restaurant, whose occupants are about to leave. They seem to have left the table clean, and you fast-walk towards it to claim it before anyone else—you’re the designated seat finder in this relationship, so leaving Jiwoo behind to sit first is A-okay.

Jiwoo joins you shortly after and sits across from you. Usually, she’d rather sit next to you, but the space doesn’t really allow that; to your left is the wall and to your near right is another table. She rests her head on the table, looking very exhausted after working today. “Tired, baby?” You pet her head gently, running your hands through her hair the way she likes it. “Mm-hmm,” she mumbles, “I had a lot of work today.” You praise her for working so hard all the time, and even though you can’t see it, she’s probably grinning in pride right now.

You tap Jiwoo’s arm to get her to straighten her posture as a server is on his way to you with your orders. He places a large bowl of tteokbokki and another large bowl of popcorn chicken somewhat crassly—he also has a sour face. “Yeah,” Jiwoo says, “he isn’t known for being the nicest guy around.” You’re starting to feel disgruntled; if you were alone, you wouldn’t be so mad to see poor service, but considering that you’re with a loved one, you feel angrier—no one gets to be rude and ruin the vibes when you’re with those you love. “I don’t mean to be arrogant, but we can easily buy out this place and replace that guy,” you snark. “That is arrogant, oppa,” Jiwoo rubs the back of your hand gently to calm you down. “Please, it’s okay—he’s probably just tired, oppa, like we are.” You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and apologize for your attitude.

Your girlfriend picks up a piece of tteokbokki and immediately chases it with a large piece of chicken. As you watch her eat, you can feel the heat in your heart gradually dissipate, and a smile is forming on your face. She picks up a piece of tteokbokki and immediately chases it with a large piece of chicken. You decide to put down your chopsticks and enjoy the sight of your girlfriend eating in front of you, not caring if she finishes the whole meal by herself.

It seems like she’s very hungry too; it took her until halfway through the meal to realize that you haven’t eaten at all. “Oh my God, oppa,” she exclaims, “why aren’t you eating?” “Ah,” you’re snapped out of your trance, “I was too busy watching you eat, baby.” You’re torn between two options, though: do you want to get some food into your belly after working all day, or do you want to keep watching your girlfriend eat oh-so-cutely?

“Say aaah.” Jiwoo decides for you by guiding a piece of chicken towards your mouth, leaving you with no choice but to open your mouth. There’s a grin on your face as you chew, and you can see her grinning too; you realize that only Jiwoo deserves your attention right now—it doesn’t matter if anyone else tries to ruin the mood; she’ll easily draw a smile on your face. “Thank you, baby,” you say to her, “I love you so much.” “I love you too,” she replies, “now eat, please.”

You get back to your car with Jiwoo after finishing the meal. “Would you like to get anything else before we go home, baby?” “No, let’s just go home, please.” Based on her tone, you can tell that she only has little energy left in her tank. “Home it is.” You turn the steering wheel to the left and place a foot on the accelerate pedal to join the moving lane.

The traffic isn’t too bad; it’s just that this specific traffic light is infamous for its long queues during rush hour. In the corner of your eyes, you see that your girlfriend is sleeping in her seat with her mouth slightly open. Unfortunately, it seems like her current position isn’t too comfortable, but there’s nothing you can do at the moment. “We’ll sleep properly at home, alright, babe?”

After getting through the traffic light, you pick up the speed, aiming to get home as soon as possible so that Jiwoo can rest properly. You take advantage of slower drivers and change lanes whenever possible, earning some honks from other drivers occasionally. “Screw you—pay attention to the road next time,” you comment.

You go through the last turn before you reach your apartment building and quickly go up to your designated parking spot. Once your car is neatly parked, you turn off your car and turn your attention to your girlfriend, who is still asleep. You then rush to your unit with Jiwoo’s limp body in your arms.

“We’re here, baby.” You lower her gently onto the bed, and she’s still asleep. You prepare a T-shirt and shorts for her to change into for later. “I’ll shower first, babe.” As you’re leaving, however, you hear a grunt of disapproval from your girlfriend. “Oppa,” she calls to you with raspy voice, “don’t leave me.” You join her in bed and pull her into a cuddle. “Wait, don’t you want to change first, babe? I prepared some clothes for you.” You can tell that she doesn’t want to move too much but her work clothes are anything but comfortable. “Help me change, oppa,” she says.

“May I?” You ask for consent, which Jiwoo gives in the form of a nod. You start unbuttoning her shirt from the top. With Jiwoo’s cooperation, you free her arms from the restraining sleeves of her shirt, and if it weren’t for her bra, she’d be entirely topless right now. You move to take off her trousers, but first: “may I, baby?” Jiwoo nods to your question, expressing her consent one more time, so with that, you unzip her trousers and pull them down her legs until they’re properly off.

Jiwoo lifts her butt off the bed when you try putting on a pair of shorts for her. “Last one, baby.” You put on a T-shirt for her, and she cooperates once again by putting her arms through the sleeves herself. “Good girl,” you peck her on the forehead, “my turn now.”

You change into a T-shirt and shorts before joining your girlfriend in bed. “Hngh,” Jiwoo grunts again while reaching her arms out, asking to be held. “Of course, baby; I won’t forget about you.” You pull her into your embrace and close your eyes, savoring the lingering scent of her perfume from this morning. “Let’s rest a bit, okay? We can worry about other stuff later,” you say.

Something is telling you to open your eyes, so you do—what time is it, even? In your half-asleep state, you look around the dark bedroom with your half-open eyes. You can see and feel that Jiwoo is still in your arms, which is a good start. You gently run your hand on her back, just the way she likes it.

If there’s anything that could be considered “wrong” with you, it’s your inability to keep your hands off your girlfriend, but at least she’s okay with it most of the time; physical contact is one of Jiwoo’s favorite things in the world.

“Oppa,” she calls to you suddenly, “I want to be with you forever.” You really want to say that you’re working on it, but you don’t want to spoil your plans, so for now, you give her a basic answer: “I want to be with you forever as well, baby; there’s nothing more that I want for us than that.”

“Do you think we have Harvey-oppa’s approval?” Ah, she’s concerned about your older brother, the honorary head of the Han family. “You do,” you assure her, “he and Yooyeon-noona know what kind of person we are. Not only that, but they also know that we’re in love with each other.” Jiwoo lets out a hum, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Their anniversary is around the corner, right?” Jiwoo moves on to the next subject. “Huh, you’re right,” you just realized now. “We should call them, oppa; you know, say congratulations and all that,” she suggests. “We’ll call them this morning before leaving for work, okay? Let’s try going to sleep again for now.” You peck her head a few times and close your eyes again.

The morning rolls around, and you wake up after what felt like a few minutes of sleep (it was probably a few hours in actuality). “Baby, sweetie, cookie—let’s wake up, hey?” You poke Jiwoo a few times to wake her up, and she slowly opens her eyes. “I’m tired, oppa,” she says. You look at your phone to see if she has time for extra rest. “You have 30 minutes, baby—I’ll take a shower first while you sleep, okay?”

While standing under running water, you remember Jiwoo telling you that your brother’s anniversary is coming soon. “I should call them after this,” you think. You quickly finish showering and check up on your girlfriend again.

“Baby, I’m sorry but your time is up.” You hate breaking it to her, but you have no other choice. With a groan, Jiwoo gets off the bed and wraps her arms around your body. “Take care of me, oppa.” You’re not sure what kind of taking care of she needs, but you think that it’s probably best to have her shower first. You lift her by her thighs and carry her towards the bathroom.

She lightly bites you in the neck when she notices that you’re taking her to the bathroom. “Oh my God, I hate you sometimes—why are you doing this to me, oppa?” “Sorry, baby, but this is necessary.” You gently lower her onto her feet and make to leave the bathroom area. “Wait!” Jiwoo halts your steps by hugging you from behind. “Please—please don’t leave me.”

You’re not sure why she’s behaving like this. “Baby, are you okay? You don’t act like this usually.” “I-I don’t know,” she says, “I just don’t want to be left alone.” “Okay, so do you want to shower with me, or do you want me to wait here?” Jiwoo takes a sniff and lets out a grunt after. “You already showered, so I’ll just shower alone—wait here, please.”

Jiwoo lets go of the hug and walk backwards to the bathroom, keeping her eyes on you the whole time. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” You sit on the floor in front of the bathroom and simply wait for her to shower. “What’s going on with Jiwoo, man?” You ask yourself, wondering why she’s acting like this out of nowhere.

You feel someone poking you on the knee. “Oppa, what are you doing?” You open your eyes and see Jiwoo, fresh out of the shower with wet hair, kneeling in front of you. “Did you fall asleep, oppa?” “I must’ve,” you rub your eyes to get yourself together, “you’re done showering, baby?” Jiwoo holds your hands and tugs, signaling to you to stand up, so you do just that. She then comes in for a hug, placing her head on your chest. “I’m sorry for being difficult, oppa.” You assure her that she has nothing to be sorry for. “You’re always so kind, oppa—thank you,” she says.

You lie down on the sofa while Jiwoo dries her hair, and you’re reminded again that your brother and his wife, Yooyeon, are celebrating their anniversary today. You come up with a congratulatory message and send it to Yooyeon. “I think I’m looking to propose by the end of the month, noona,” you add.

The app says that she’s typing, and the timing couldn’t be any more perfect: Jiwoo is asking if you can video call your sister-in-law. “Sure, let’s do it,” you say. Once she’s ready, you start the call.

“Hey, guys,” your brother greets you from the other side of the screen, “good morning!”

You take the speaking baton first. “Good morning, hyung and noona—congratulations on the 6th anniversary, guys!”

Harvey thanks you for the congratulations, and in return, he asks how you and Jiwoo are doing. “We’ve been very good, oppa,” Jiwoo takes the baton from you, “I know we’re not married yet, but our 2nd anniversary is around the corner.”

Truthfully, you forgot that it is indeed around the corner; you shoot a glance at the sleeping TV, which screen saver says the date and time, and see that your anniversary is 6 days away.

“Ask Shane to take you on a dinner, Jiwoo-yah; I’m sure he has the money for it,” your brother says, snapping you out of your little trance, and the gears in your head start turning, trying to quickly come up with a plan to celebrate your anniversary.

Through the video call, you see that your sister-in-law is aiming her camera at the food on their table. “Ahhhh, unnieeee!” Jiwoo slaps your thighs repeatedly, reacting hysterically to the Morningside logo on the bowl shown on the screen. She promptly turns her attention to you and whispers something right in your ear. “Oppa, can we go to Morningside this weekend?” You respond to her suggestion with a nod. “We’ll join you next time, unnie—we have other things to do today,” Jiwoo says.

You take turns with your girlfriend to start conversations with your brother and his wife, and after a few minutes, you notice that she’s almost ready to end the call. “Harvey-oppa, Yooyeon-unnie,” Jiwoo says, her tone sweet and sincere, “congratulations on the anniversary, seriously. I hope me and oppa get to live happily together like the two of you.” “Thank you for the kind words, cookie,” Harvey says, “we’re rooting for the both of you—see you soon!”

You exchange goodbye waves with the people on the other side of the screen then end the call right after. “Visit us this Saturday for Jack-in-the-box,” says a text message from Yooyeon, making your heart rate climb. “What does that mean, oppa?” Jiwoo points at your screen, right where the floating notification is. “I-I don’t know,” you answer nervously.

You’re nervous because truthfully, you know what it means: you, Shaun, and Harvey came up with that term to secretly refer to “getting a ring and proposing” when Harvey was courting Yooyeon a few years ago. So the fact that he’s said it now after all this time must mean that he’s in full support of your relationship and encourages you to commit further, which is both exciting and nerve-wracking.

“You believe in us, don’t you, hyung?” You say in your head while trying to maintain a straight face. “You’re acting weird,” Jiwoo comments with a chuckle, “first it was me, and now it’s you—what’s wrong with us today, oppa?” You let out an awkward chuckle, still trying your best to not show your nervousness. “Well, I guess we’ll find out,” you deflect, “c’mon, let’s go to work.”

Before you know it, it’s now Saturday. Your brother invited you to his house a few days ago for Jack-in-the-box, a secret term that hasn’t been mentioned in years—one problem, though: how do you go to his house alone, because Jiwoo most likely would want to tag along if she’s free.

You sit on the sofa, rubbing your chin to come up with something to dissuade your girlfriend from coming along, and that’s when she walks out of the bedroom with a question. “Oppa, Soodam-unnie asked me to hang out at a café with her—can I go?” “Of course, baby,” you put on a smile for her, “do you want me to take you there?” She takes you up on your offer and gets back into the bedroom to change, and you let out a deep sigh of relief; you don’t need to fool her into not tagging along because she already has something else to do.

After dropping off Jiwoo at the café, you start driving towards your brother’s house, which is quite close from where you are. There’s little-to-no traffic today, since it’s the weekend and still early—it’s barely 10 a.m.

You pull into his driveway next to his car and get off yours. “Hi,” your brother greets you from the front door, “come in, we need to talk first.” You follow him inside but see no sign of his wife. “Where’s noona?” He says that she just got out of the bathroom and will join you soon.

Your brother takes a seat on the sofa while you take the cushion chair to his left. “Oh, you’re here,” Yooyeon greets you, “this must be for the Jack-in-the-box thing.” She takes the empty spot next to her husband. “Can one of you explain what that means?” Harvey explains briefly what it means: “we’re also going to help him buy a ring,” he adds.

“Do you think you’re ready for this?” Your brother’s question makes you nervous. “I do,” you answer, “I, erm, I think we’re in love, a-and, you know—” The way you’re stuttering makes them laugh. “Well, I hope that you’ll be less nervous as the day goes.” Harvey stands up from his seat, and when the (honorary) head of the family stands up, you follow. “Let’s go get breakfast first and then we’ll visit the jewelers, hm?”

You depart in your brother’s car to ensure maximum secrecy—Jiwoo wouldn’t recognize this car if you happen to pass in front of the café she’s at. You take a seat in the middle row behind your brother because obviously the front passenger seat isn’t vacant. “We haven’t done this in so long, haven’t we, hyung?” Your question makes Harvey smile. “We haven’t, true—we’ll do this again with everyone once Shaun and Seeun return from New York.”

You’re promptly reminded of your meeting with Soodam. “Hyung, I met Soodam-noona a few days ago.” His unique, sharp eyes look at you through the rear-view mirror of the car. “Yeah? What did she say?” “She thought I was Shaun,” you answer. You hear a deep sigh coming from him. “That’s fine, I guess—it could’ve been worse.” Yooyeon is curious: she doesn’t know who Soodam is, and in turn, doesn’t know what Shaun has to do with her. When she asks, Harvey explains in longer form their history, and at the end, you see her placing a palm on her face.

You, Harvey, and Yooyeon sit together at a 4-person table at Morningside, which happens to be somewhat empty currently. Here are the things you and your company ordered: two Singaporean-style toasts, two congee with char siu beef, and three hot lychee tea.

“Shane,” Harvey whispers to you while looking over your shoulders. “Jiwoo is here.” You turn around in shock, and would you look at that: she is indeed here—Soodam is also here. “Oh, shit, the surprise is spoiled,” you think, and you feel like you understand how Jiwoo felt when her surprise was spoiled a short while ago. “She doesn’t see us, though,” you comment.

While it is true that Jiwoo doesn’t see you, Soodam does and tells Jiwoo about your presence. She jogs towards your table and gives you a peck on the lips. “Oh my God, what a crowd—hello, my name is Kim Jiwoo. Pleased to meet you,” she says, earning a collective laughter from your group. “Crazy coincidence, isn’t it, baby?” “It is—we could’ve gone together, oppa.” Jiwoo then asks again if she can hang out with Soodam, and obviously, you let her go. You’re not holding her back from hanging out with her friends (aside from her male co-workers who have tried shooting their shots but that’s a story for another time).

“God,” you let out a sigh of relief, “I thought it was blown.” Your brother lets out a laugh, fully understanding of your feelings. “Keeping a secret from your beloved lady is never easy—ask me how I know” he adds, and Yooyeon joins him in laughing.

The smell of butter steals your attention, and when you turn your head around, you see a server walking towards your table. “That must be your toasts, noona,” you say, and indeed, it is her toasts. You help the server distribute food to your brother and his wife. “The tea will be out after this—please kindly wait,” the server says, already way kinder than that guy working at the tteokbokki restaurant. “Sure, no problem—thank you,” you reply with a smile.

Yooyeon is the first to both take a bite and react to her food, letting out satisfied hums while chewing her first mouthful. “I really can’t have enough of this,” she comments. Harvey reacts to that by giving her a peck on the cheek—a cute sight, really; you love seeing your brother interacting with his wife and how in love they are with each other.

After a short ride, the three of you arrive at this seemingly none-of-the-ordinary jewelers.

You ask Harvey if he’s been here before. “Hm? Oh, yeah,” he says, “I bought a necklace for Yooyeon-ie from this place a few months ago.” “You did, hon?” Yooyeon scratches her head as she tries to remember. In playful aggresiveness, your brother pinches his wife cheeks for failing to remember. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She exclaims frantically, and your brother stops right away. “Come on, let’s find something for our cookie,” he says, leading you and Yooyeon inside.

“Ah, welcome, Mr. Han,” a staff member in a neat three-piece suit greets your brother. He then takes turns to shake your and Yooyeon’s hands. “My little brother here is looking for a ring,” Harvey says. “Do you know the measurements, sir?” The staff turns his attention to you. Your eyes land on your sister-in-law as you think about Jiwoo’s finger size. “Should be similar to my noona here,” you say. Yooyeon takes off her ring and passes it to the staff who then takes a measurement.

“Size 6, hey?” He shuffles some shelves around and place one that’s packed with brilliant rings on the top. “Here are the options we have currently, sir—we can also make a custom ring but that will take longer and cost more,” he says. Harvey can tell that you’re nervous about the price, so he whispers in your ear that he’ll take care of it. “Your job today, Shane, is to choose one that you really like,” he says. “Thank you for this, seriously,” you whisper back to him, getting a soft pat on the back from him.

You first point out to the staff member that you’d rather choose from this abundance of choices than wait for a custom-made ring. “Can I look at that one, please? Row 3 column G,” you say. You flip it around in your hand, inspecting small diamond main piece. “Jiwoo doesn’t like flashy stuff, so I think this is definitely one of the choices for now,” you comment. You place the ring on the glass counter and start looking for other options. “Row 5 column C, please,” you say. Upon closer inspection, however, it doesn’t look as good as the first one.

Initially, you thought that you should find 3 rings to choose from, but aside from the first ring your eyes landed on, nothing else catches your fancy. “Guys, what do you think?” You turn to Harvey and Yooyeon for opinions. Yooyeon defers; she thinks that you should choose what you like. Her husband, on the other hand, thinks that your choice is a good one. “I would buy that if I were proposing—I’m not, just so we’re clear,” he adds, laughing at the end. “I’ll take this, please.” You hand the ring back to the guy, earning a praise for your “good eye” from him.

Today is the day of your 2nd anniversary with Jiwoo. Not only that, today is also the day she’s doing an interview for the job at Han Group she has applied for.

Jiwoo says that she has permission from her manager to take today off so that she can go to the in-person interview. She also asks you to drop her off at the Han Group building on your way to work. “Sure, baby—let’s leave after this, okay?”

For the interview, Jiwoo opts for a white shirt and a black skirt—a very typical interview attire worn by fresh graduates looking for a job. She walks into the building and sees a reception desk that has someone attending it. “Excuse me, miss,” she says quietly, “my name is Kim Jiwoo. I’m here for an interview.” After looking at the screen in front of her, the staff tells Jiwoo to go up to the 4th floor, where an interviewer will join her soon.

Jiwoo sees an open room with a big conference table on the 4th floor. “This is it, probably,” she thinks. It is when she’s right at the door that she sees the short list of today’s interviewees: Kim Jiwoo and Lee Soodam. She also sees that each person will be given around an hour for the interview.

“Hello. You must be Kim Jiwoo.” A female around her age enters the room, making Jiwoo jump a little thanks to the shock. Her eyes widen when she sees the person behind this lady. “Hi, cookie. How are you today?” Harvey’s sudden presence stuns Jiwoo: no one mentioned that he’d be in the room where it happens—what if she lets him down? What if he thinks that Jiwoo isn’t needed at Han Group?

“Mi-mister Han,” she stutters, “p-pleasure to meet you, s-sir.” Harvey laughs. “You thought I wouldn’t know, Miss Kim? I have eyes and ears everywhere, you know,” he says. Jiwoo remains quiet as Harvey moves to take a seat at the other end of the table. “Please, there’s nothing to be nervous about. We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?” “Y-yes, sir,” she replies nervously. Harvey shows her a kind smile. “Well, let’s start now, Miss Jo,” he says to the interviewer.

Miss Jo, paying little attention to personal details, throws some work-related questions at Jiwoo, and she answers each one as best she can, glancing occasionally at Harvey. “Wow, their smiles are very similar,” she thinks. Miss Jo then turns to him, passing the speaking baton over. “So, Miss Kim,” he starts, “can you tell me what you’re looking for at this company?” Jiwoo’s heart races as she tries to come up with an answer. “With respect, sir, I think working at Han Group w-would make me be more motivated,” she says the first answer that comes to mind. “Really? How so?” In her head, she wonders if she should say the same thing she did to you: because Harvey is family. “Ah, whatever—here goes nothing.” She takes a deep breath and answers: “b-because I’d be working for fa-f-family, s-sir.” Her stutter was worse than earlier, making her want to slap herself for it.

Harvey grins. “Family, Miss Kim?” He asks, and she’s starting to regret saying such answer. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “First, I like that you refer to me as family—I’m sure your significant other would be delighted to hear it if he was here. Second, I think that someone can only be really motivated about work if they enjoy and find satisfaction in it. Sure, working for family sounds like a good time, but at the same time, there’s the burden of relationship in that; there’s a chance that you’ll find it difficult to make objective decisions or critics because, well, they’re family.”

Jiwoo can’t help but stay silent during Harvey’s speech, feeling the pressure of the big boss’ commanding presence. “Any opinions on that, Miss Kim?” “N-none, sir. I understand what you said, and I think it made sense,” Jiwoo replies. Harvey whispers something to Miss Jo, and after a short back-and-forth, she leaves her seat and walks out of the room.

Harvey summons Jiwoo to sit next to him, and she complies immediately. “Jiwoo-yah,” he says, his tone softer than earlier, “why are you here, seriously? Answer honestly, please." She wipes the stray tear her glassy eyes released. “I-I meant it, oppa; I want to work for you because you are family,” she emphasizes. He puts his hand on Jiwoo’s, rubbing the back of it gently, the exact same way you usually do. “If you’re so sure, then I’m not stopping you—welcome to Han Group, Jiwoo-yah.” Jiwoo, without asking for permission first, jumps to hug Harvey. “Thank you so much, oppa. I won’t let you down, I swear,” she says tearily. “I know, cookie,” he replies, “go home for now, your work here can start some time else.”

As soon as you enter your apartment, a fragrant smell enters your nostrils. “Jiwoo-yah, where are you, baby?” You hear her reply from the kitchen area, so you drop everything at the door and make your way towards her.

“Welcome home!” Jiwoo hugs you warmly as a welcome. “Thank you, baby—what is this smell, by the way?” Over her head, you see that there’s a pot sitting on one of the burners. In it, there’s rice cake swimming in a bubbling red sauce—oh, there’s popcorn chicken on the counter, too. “You hated the service at that tteokbokki place, so I made it for you,” she says. You barrage her head with kisses, showing your appreciation for her efforts. “You always spoil me with your cooking, baby,” you say at the end.

Your girlfriend asks you to sit at the table while she gives final touches to her cooking. She then proceeds to put some in two bowls and places them on the table. “Thank you for the meal, baby!” You grab the chopsticks she has provided and immediately put a piece of rice cake in your mouth. “Oh, that’s so good.” You then chase it with a piece of chicken. “Wow, that’s also really good.” Your eyes land on Jiwoo, and you see that she has her happy face on; her plump cheeks are squished by the wide grin on her face.

“There’s no way it’s that good,” she thinks you’re exaggerating. “Why are you putting yourself down? Just take a bite and see for yourself, why don’t you,” you say, and based on your tone alone, Jiwoo can tell that you’re starting to get annoyed by her attitude. “It’s not that, oppa; it’s just that when you cook, your food doesn’t taste as good as when you buy it,” she reasons, her soft tone different to yours.

She takes a mouthful of food and thinks about the taste as she chews. “It is good,” she shyly admits, “I see why you like it so much.” “See? Don’t put yourself down so much next time, okay, baby?” Jiwoo nods and promises that she’ll keep it in mind and never do it again.

“Oppa,” she moves on to another subject, “I got the job at Han Group.” “Yeah? How did the interview go?” Jiwoo first mentions that Harvey was present during the interview and how surprising it was for her to see him. “I had a feeling that you wouldn’t have gotten away with being sneaky,” you say, adding a chuckle at the end. “You didn’t say anything to him, though, right?” No, you didn’t say anything to anyone about Jiwoo’s sneaky job search—it’s just that your brother does have eyes and ears everywhere.

After dinner, you find yourself chilling on the sofa with Jiwoo. She’s resting her head on your thighs while her hands are busy with her phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media. You, on the other hand, can’t be bothered with it; you have a bigger thing to think about: how do you propose to Jiwoo? “Should I take her to the park? Do I just do it here?” Your brain gets busy trying to figure it out. “Fuck, man, what do I do?”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, and apparently, it’s loud enough to reach Jiwoo’s ears. “Are you okay, oppa? Do you need anything?” Nervousness is peaking in your head right now and you’re starting to sweat. “Can we talk, baby, please?” Your girlfriend lifts her head off your lap and looks at you nervously. “What do you want to talk about, oppa? Am I in trouble?” You close your eyes and take another deep breath. “First, I’d like to apologize for being so boring like this, but I’m just stumped and don’t know what to do,” you begin, making Jiwoo both nervous and confused.

You get off the sofa and get down on one knee. “Miss Kim Jiwoo,” you fish the small velvet box out of your back pocket, “will you marry me?” She stays silent. Her palm is covering her mouth. Her eyes are as wide as they can be. This isn’t quite the reaction you were hoping for, and as you wonder if you’ve made a bad move, your eyes wander off towards her knees.

“Yes, I will,” is her answer. When your eyes meet with her again, you see that tears are coming out of her eyes in abundance. “I will, oppa—I will marry you,” she repeats. Seeing her cry makes you emotional, and without command, your eyes start releasing tears. “I’m sorry, I should’ve come up with something grander for my proposal,” you say, feeling regretful. She joins you on the floor and hugs you tightly. She assures you that it’s okay and you have nothing to worry about. “It doesn’t take away from your efforts, oppa,” she uses your words against you. Deep inside, however, you promise that you’ll propose again with a grander prelude—Harvey proposed to Yooyeon at The Sapphire, maybe you can replicate that.

Jiwoo lets go of the hug and looks at the ring that’s still sitting in its tiny pedestal in the box. “I-I think you’re supposed to put it on my finger, oppa.” You chuckle. “Sorry, baby. I’m new to all of this,” you crack a little joke, earning a giggle from your girlfriend. You pull the ring out of the box and slide it onto her ring finger on her right hand. “I’m yours forever now, oppa,” she says while turning her hand around to inspect the ring. “This is a beautiful ring, too.” You place your forehead on hers, still unable to calm yourself down and stop the tears. “I love you, Jiwoo-yah. I love you with every cell in my body.” Jiwoo says she loves you more, referring to you as her fiancé.

“Oh, speaking of fiancé,” she says, pulling away from your embrace, “now that we’re really official, I want to go to university again, oppa—you know, get my master’s degree and all that.” You wipe your tears off your face and gather yourself. “O-okay, go—hah—go on.” “Can you, erm, can you pay for that, please?” Obviously, you’re not stopping your fiancé from getting higher education, so without thinking twice, you say yes. “I’m sure it’ll be beneficial for all of us, baby, so go ahead. Let me worry about the tuition,” you add.

In joy, Jiwoo jumps to hug you, and only now are you remembering an important fact. “Happy anniversary, baby.” Your fiancé lets out a chuckle. “I thought you forgot about it, oppa.” “I’m sorry, baby. I’m a freaking mess today,” you say. “Let me help fix that mess.” Jiwoo plants her lips on yours while her hands are fixed on your shoulders, and at this point, you swear that every mess in your heart and mind has been washed away. “Thank you, baby. I needed that so bad,” you thank her for the help. “Can we go to the bedroom, oppa?” “We sure can, baby.” You carry her in your arms and walk towards the bedroom.

“We’re here, baby,” you say as you climb onto the bed, “so, how do you want to cuddle?” Your fiancé frees herself from your arms, shaking her head as she does. “If we’re getting really married, oppa, you need to get better at catching signals,” she says. You look at her wordlessly while she takes her T-shirt off and throws it over her head. “Oh, she wanted to have sex—was I supposed to know that?”

Your attention is shifted towards her when you feel her fingers on the first button of your shirt, stripping you out of your work clothes. “You just proposed to me and agreed to pay for my master’s, and you thought I wanted to just cuddle? Ckckckck, you’re terrible at this,” Jiwoo expresses her disappointment. You want to defend yourself, but you can’t seem to find the words. “Sorry,” is all you can come up with. “No need, it’s not too late to make it right.”

Jiwoo plants her lips on yours again with different intentions this time. “Take me,” she whispers to you, “take me just like you usually do.” “How bad do you want it?” You’ve now gotten yourself together and are in the correct head space for this. She starts humping your thigh, letting you know how wet she is down there. “C-can’t you tell, oppa?” “I think I can,” you giggle, “let’s start, shall we?”

Yes, we shall. You roll until your fiancé is lying on her back, and her beauty instantly catches your attention. “My God, you’re so beautiful, love. Who am I to be so lucky to be with you?” Your words satisfy her, as shown by her precious smile on her face and her soft hands on yours. “Who am I to be so lucky to be engaged to you, oppa?” You ask if you can show her how much you love her. “Show me, oppa, and I’ll do the same,” she says.

You put your lips on her neck, nibbling and sucking until it’s marked with your love. “Oh, yes, please keep going,” Jiwoo eggs you on. “You’re mine, baby, and I’m yours—forever,” you whisper to her, giving her goosebumps. “I’m yours, oppa, and you’re mine,” she replies. “Please take me already—I can’t wait any longer.” You chuckle. “One second, baby; let me finish marking you first.”

You’ve sucked and nibbled for a few more minutes now, and when you pull away to inspect your work, you see a decently sized dark circle on the side of her neck. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.” You straighten your back, and that’s when Jiwoo asks you to “put it in.” Obviously, you know what it means, but it doesn’t hurt to tease her just a tad more. “Put what in, baby?” Your fiancé takes a deep breath, annoyed and impatient. “Your junior,” she says, “put it in me.”

You move towards her legs that are still covered by her mini shorts. When you grab the waistband, Jiwoo places her hands over yours. “Yes, baby?” You ask in case she wants to change her mind.

“Let’s make some promises before we start, oppa.”

“Sure, baby. What is it?”

“Promise me that you’ll pay for my tuition.”

“We’ve talked about it before, but yes, I promise.”

“Promise me that you’ll love me forever and never leave me for anyone else.”

“I promise.”

“Lastly, promise me that you’ll call me love—you know, since we’re getting married.”

“I promise, love.”

“Great,” she smiles, “now we can start.”

With her consent, you pull down her shorts down her legs and past her ankles. Oh, look at that: there’s a big wet spot on her panties—how cute. You free yourself of your work clothes, and while you do that, Jiwoo frees her tits from its constraints. “Respectfully, you look very, very hot, love,” you say, drooling as you do. “And all of me is yours, oppa,” she replies, “my lips, my breasts, my vagina—everything.” “That’s certainly one way to put it,” you think to yourself.

You hold your cock in one hand, and without struggling too much, you ease your way into her warm and wet core. “T-took you long enough,” Jiwoo quips, “oh, yes, that’s good, oppa.” You wrap your arms around her body, and in response, she wraps her limbs around yours, locking you in place to make sure she has maximum physical contact. She proceeds to let out moans right into your ear, showing you how much she’s enjoying this. “I love you, baby—fuck, I love you so much,” you whisper. “W-wrong pet name,” she still has the head space to say such thing.

“I’m about to burst, oppa,” she says, “please—oh, God—please, oppa.” You notice that her embrace is getting loose, so you take advantage of it and straighten your posture, thus allowing you to deliver better thrusts. “Go on, baby,” you urge her, “burst for your fiancé.” Obviously, words aren’t enough; you need to keep up the tempo to be able to send her flying across the finish line.

Jiwoo’s moans become louder as she inches closer towards orgasm—she’s also squirming around. You grit your teeth when you feel her insides squeezing your shaft. “Come on, love; cum for me.” You turn up the pace to the highest you can possibly do while making sure you’re hitting her deepest points. You pull out just in time as she screams from the top of her lungs, her thighs trembling from the hard-hitting orgasm.

Amidst her moans and pants, Jiwoo manages to ask you to hold her, so you do just that, enveloping her with your arms. “That’s good, love,” you praise her, “you’re so good at this.” “Th-thank you,” she replies with heavy breaths. You pamper her with endless sweet words while waiting for her to calm down; among them is, “I love you and will spend the rest of my life with you.” She can’t string together a proper reply just yet, but that’s fine; you’re certain that the message is well received.

Her pants have died down after a few minutes, and when you check on her, you see that she’s fallen asleep. “How cute,” you pinch her cheek lightly, “well, good night, love.” Without letting go, you roll over so that she’s lying square on your body and close your eyes.

During your sleep, you’re shown a dream. One where Jiwoo is on her knees while moving her mouth up and down along your length. You put a hand on the back of her head, assisting her in making sure that her hair doesn’t get in the way. “That’s good, love—that’s very good,” a praise freely escapes your lips, just like usual. Your praise excites Jiwoo, making her bob her head faster. Unfortunately for you, you’re starting to lose your grip on the scene, seeing it slowly fade away to be replaced with a different one.

At least that’s what it seemed like was about to happen. Instead, your brain wakes you up. “Wait, I know this feeling,” you say in your head. Your eyes roam downwards as you try to get a grip on the situation around you. “Love? What are you doing?” “What do you mean what am I doing? What does it look like, oppa?” Well, it looks like she’s stroking your cock, kissing your tip occasionally. “I thought you wouldn’t wake up,” she says.

You tell her that you saw her sucking you off in your dream. “I mean, I was sucking you off in your sleep,” she reveals. “So that was a mix of dream and reality, wasn’t it, love?” Jiwoo laughs. “Even in your dream, you can tell that I’m touching you.”

Jiwoo asks you to sit, so you sit and lean against the headrest. She then crawls between your spread legs and takes you deep in her mouth. Just like you did in your dream, you place a hand on the back of her head, petting her gently as you do. “That’s so damn good, love,” a praise freely escapes your lips, just like usual, and as per usual, it excites Jiwoo. You can feel her moving along your shaft faster, pushing through the gag reflex. “Fuck, you’re going to make me bust,” you say the first thing that comes to mind.

You’re ready to send your load straight into her stomach; your cock is throbbing and cum is pooling on your tip, and—ah, fuck, she removes you from her mouth. “No, no, no,” she wiggles her finger in front of you, “you don’t get to cum in my mouth anymore; I’m your fiancé, not your girlfriend.” Your racing heart doesn’t allow you to come up with a reply, but that’s okay with Jiwoo.

She turns her back against you and move backwards until her entrance is hovering right over your tip. “From this point onwards, you can only cum in my pussy—is that understood, my dear fiancé?” “Yes, love, I understand.” Happy with your answer, she lowers herself until you’re fully inside her. “Oh, fuck,” she lets out a gasp, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” She starts fucking herself on your cock, her hands and knees serving as stabilizers. You lean back and admire the way her hourglass figure looks from behind.

“I-I thought you—oh my God—I thought you were close, oppa?” “I am,” you admit, “I’m about to bust any second now.” Hearing such an answer invigorates Jiwoo, giving her the push she needs to keep going until you cum.

With a profanity, you send your load deep inside her, and Jiwoo plants her butt on your crotch so that nothing leaks out. The warmth of your ejaculation makes her let out a very long moan. “Do you want to be a dad?” “No, love, not yet,” you reply between your heavy pants. “Then you’ll need to buy me some pills—we’ve run out of them.” “We’ll get some later before we leave for work, love.”

That’s one question answered, and it’s time to address the other one: how can you prevent her from making a mess on the bed? “Just carry me reversed like this to the bathroom and pull out there,” she suggests. You gather the strength in your legs and stand up. “Hehehe,” you let out a suspicious laugh, “come to think of it, we’ve never had sex while standing up.” “Let’s not—oh, fuck—let’s not get ideas now, oppa; I don’t have the energy for more.”

You arrive at the bedroom with no accident, which means you can now “safely” pull out of her hot core. “Fuck, that’s a lot,” you comment. “That’s just how much you love me,” she giggles, “so what do we do now?” You don’t know what time it is (because there’s no clock in the bathroom, obviously), but you guess that it’s probably best to quickly clean up and go back to sleep soon.

You’re back in bed with your fiancé after quickly cleaning up. Jiwoo puts her right hand in the air and inspects the ring (despite the darkness of the room). “When did you buy this, oppa?” You reveal to her that Harvey bought it for you when you went out with him and Yooyeon. Jiwoo bursts out laughing. “I bet you were sweating bullets when you saw me walking in with Soodam-unnie—you thought the surprise was ruined.” “You have no idea, love,” you chuckle, “well, at least it all worked out in the end.”

“I love you, oppa,” she says, seemingly out of nowhere. “I will be the best person I can be for you—for us.”

“Certainly, love. I will be the best person I can be for you as well, because you deserve the best of me.”

“Sounds like we have a good future,” she says, “well, let’s go back to sleep now—good night. I love you.”

“I love you more—way more than simple words can express.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #nmixx smut

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luveline · 2 years ago

Text

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐚 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

8k words, a slightly bloody coworkers to lovers, fem!reader, nosebleeds, reader works in the BAU but isn't a profiler, jack is a sweetheart, hotch has game fr, fluff + hurt/comfort

༺༻

You like your desk job. You handle paperwork primarily, and act as a sort of assistant unofficially. Anything to be useful — you get paid either way. It's why you don't mind trying to be helpful in the office and take on some of the office administrator's overflow.

Today, that's fixing the coffee machines. The office can function on one at a stretch but both being broken means an entire roster of grumpy agents and all of them are on your back. And when they have to see all the stuff they say? You figure fixing the coffee machines is the least you can do.

You're ignoring the weight of their waiting, elbow deep in one of the machines. The instruction manual had mentioned a little spout that can get clogged with detriment. Hopefully, you can clean it out and get at least one machine working by midday.

"Oh no," you murmur.

The piece you're trying to unscrew is tightly wound, too tight for your fingers to work behind. You're probably going to need a small tool, like an allen key.

"No luck?" Agent Prentiss asks, sounding defeated.

You look up from the machine and smile quickly. "I need smaller hands," you joke, letting the machine sit back on the counter and pulling out your aching fingers. "I'll have one working by the end of the day, Agent Prentiss. Scout's honour."

She shrugs and waves a hand at you. "It's alright. What's one day without caffeine?"

You laugh at her good-natured sarcasm and go back to your machine. When you're certain you can't jimmy it you turn your attention to the second machine and run through the steps. You're too determined to lose. Your coworkers depend on you.

You start by changing the filter and are unsurprised when that doesn't work. You check the button connectivity, the fuse, and then you turn again to that small piece that needs to be washed.

"Yes," you cheer under your breath, pulling the piece from its home to assess the problem.

It's a tiny pipe with a piece of mesh that acts as a sieve to trap dust. Maybe. Whatever it is, it's full of caramelised coffee grounds. You move to the sink basin and turn on the faucet to clean it, washing with anticipation as the burned coffee trickles down the drain.

You're pleased enough to feel a mild adrenaline rush, and your excitement leads to butter fingers: you drop the prized piece of pipe and it rolls out of sight.

This is not a good time for business casual.

You tug your too-tight pants from your thighs and bend down in search. When it doesn't reveal itself you get on your knees and run your hands along the seams of the kitchen cabinets, face lowered.

"Is everything okay?"

You wince at a very familiar, very unfortunately timed voice.

"Yes, sir, everything is perfect," you say, looking up to meet the eye of your boss' boss, unit chief SSA Aaron Hotchner. "I've misplaced a piece but I'll have the coffee machine working again in no time. I'm sorry."

He raises his eyebrows at you. It's a very nice expression on him, his eyes light with an emotion you don't often see on him. "Is fixing the coffee machine in your job description?" he asks.

You think it might be a polite reprimand. You won't insult him by insisting you're always on time with your actual delegated workload because he and your supervisor have to send you emails asking for missing paperwork all the time, so you try to disarm him.

You beam.

You're not a supermodel but everybody is pretty when they smile. "Sir, I thought I could sacrifice my lunch break for the good of the Bureau."

"Yes, well." He looks like he wants to smile back. You might be seeing what you want to see, though. "That won't be necessary. Take your time."

Your smile falters as you feel a telling heat at the back of your nose. "Thank you," you say quickly, covering your nostril with the pad of your index finger.

You're hoping your swift words will send him on his way, but he's literally the lead profiler of the BAU. He knows suspicious activity when he sees it.

"Is something wrong?"

Blood starts to trickle down your palm. You slide your hand up to cover your nose the best that you can. The alarm on his face when he spots the blood sliding down your bare forearm can't be understated.

"It's just a nosebleed," you placate, sounding stuffed up.

He's a quick thinker, tearing a wad of paper towel off of the dispenser above the microwave and offering it to you.

If you weren't so distracted by your current predicament you'd say thank you.

He turns back to the paper towels and tears off another wad. To your horror, Hotch bends down right there in the kitchenette and waits for you to open your palm, feeding the towels into your spare hand.

"Should you tilt your head back?"

"I think that's a myth," you say.

Your skin starts to scrawl with embarrassment, the itchy, awful feeling of being pinned by his eyes.

"How long do they usually last?"

"Not very long, sir. I'm sure you're busy."

He tilts his head slightly to one side as if conceding your point. "Let me help you up," he commands.

You can't make yourself reject his help. Honestly, it's nice to have somebody care even if the nosebleed is purely superficial. His fingers curl around the crook of your elbow and he helps you onto your feet just in time for Agent Prentiss to return.

"Hotch, what did you do?" she asks, bewildered.

You try not to laugh too much, worried you'll force another burst of blood.

—

Confidential information. You hear it, you ignore it. Harder to ignore the whiteboards in the conference room that are currently choc-a-block with prints of crime scene photos.

You don't mean to gawk at them. It's severely unprofessional and you shouldn't really be in here to begin with. The electronic screen is off, as are the monitors, so you know the room isn't in use.

That could change any second, and it does.

You hide your clammy palms behind your back at the sound of footsteps and try not to rush obviously toward the mug you'd come in here to collect.

The door creaks open as you're leaning over the table.

"I'm sorry," you say without looking.

"You don't have to clean up after anyone."

"Actually," you say quietly, abashed at having been caught, "this is my mug."

You turn to face him.

Agent Hotchner is tall and handsome. These are two undeniable facts and yet every time you see him it feels like a surprise. It might have something to do with how composed he is, how deliberate his movements are, or it might just be 'cause you have a crush on him.

It's anybody's guess.

"I can make Reid wash it," he says.

You're so whipped that your chest confuses his offer for something much worse. Like, he's on your side.

"That's okay, I don't wanna punish him for my own fussiness." You cover the mugs printed sides subtly, or as subtly as you're able.

"What's special?"

You smile at him, lips pressed together tight and eyes squinting slightly. You know what he's getting at but you ask anyways, stalling now he's caught you. "About what?"

"About the mug."

You peer behind him.

"You can't tell anyone," you murmur, rounding the table to stand by his side with your shoulders to the door. "I'm not sure anybody knows it's mine."

The mug is a corn-husk yellow and printed with a scene from a vintage Peanuts comic, dark-haired Lucy standing behind her lemonade stand that boasts 'Psychiatric Help 5¢'. Charlie Brown sits in front of it looking morose.

It's hard to describe why you like it so much.

"I see," Agent Hotchner says.

It's become something of an office joke, offering each other five cents on bad days, calling someone Charlie Brown when they look lost. You doubt very much that anyone is making fun of you, you're just hiding that it's your mug because that's part of the fun. The mystery of the Peanuts mug.

"I can't drink out of anything else," you confide, turning your face to his.

He's definitely smiling this time. "Why would you?"

You nod in genuine delight. "Exactly! Vintage Peanuts, and I searched so much for this because they used to use lead in glassware paint, and-"

The nosebleed comes on suddenly. There's a drop of blood running down your lips before you've even realised. Agent Hotchner's eyes follow it all the way down.

"Oh, no," you say, blood dripping to the hill of your chin.

You use the back of the hand that's holding the mug to catch what's rolling down your neck and the other to pinch your nose closed, bending forward on instinct to hide your face. You're seasoned in nosebleeds. You know how you look — scary. Ridiculous.

"Here," Agent Hotchner says.

His hand comes into your eyeline, offering a dark square of fabric. You cringe at the idea of marring his likely expensive handkerchief but you can't not accept, pressing it haphazard to your bloody nose.

"What were you saying about lead?"

You're so frazzled about the blood you don't realise he's made a joke until it's too late to laugh.

"Do you know what causes them?" he asks.

"I'm not really sure, sir. I used to get them all the time as a kid, um…" You pull the handkerchief away from your nose to check if it's still bleeding. When it doesn't continue, you say, "They're pretty harmless. It's done already."

"If you need time off for a check-up, I'm sure the office administrator can find a sick day for you."

You smile at him, and then remember the blood and grimace. I must look like Carrie right now, you think morosely.

"That won't be necessary, sir, thank you. It's apparently the dry air." You're starting to feel more and more warm under his serious gaze. There's a startling amount of concern there. "I'm gonna go clean up now. Excuse me," you say, face glowing with heat.

"Of course."

You cover your bloody face with the back of your hand, his handkerchief held in red-stained fingers. You pass Agent Prentiss on the stairs, hurrying past her with an I'm okay smile.

"Hotch, again?" you hear Agent Prentiss ask incredulously. "Where do you get off?"

—

You can't return Hotch's handkerchief, it's a biohazard, but the fabric had felt so soft and the monogram in the corner had cued you in on how expensive it must have been. Your guilt manifests itself into three new handkerchiefs with the embroidered A.H. They aren't half as nice as the one he'd let you ruin. You leave them on his desk — or rather, you get Dr. Reid to leave them on his desk, as walking into his office doesn't feel like something you're allowed to do — and try to forget about them.

For a week, you do. Agent Hotchner doesn't visit his office, Agent Jareau apprehends him on his way in that morning and the profiling team gather around their round table, and you don't see any of them for four days. The Friday they return, you're already on your way home.

That's why his actions the following Monday shock you.

It's unusual that he walks anywhere that isn't a straight shot to his desk. You're doing paperwork for once in your life, sitting awkwardly with your foot hooked under your thigh and a pair of wired earphones in. It's not technically allowed but he really doesn't venture over to you often. You've become complicit in your unsupervised nirvana of a desk job.

You snatch your earphone out and struggle into a normal position. "Agent Hotchner," you say, wondering if you should call him Special Supervisory, or maybe something cooler, like your Highness. Your grace. He's intimidating in his accomplishments at the FBI, and he's super handsome.

"Can I see you in my office? Ten minutes."

You nod brainlessly.

Your desk buddy doesn't wait long after he's left to investigate.

"What did you do?" they ask from across the short partition.

"I really don't know," you say, though you have your suspicions.

"Were you reading on your computer again? I told you, read under the desk like a normal person."

"No, I learned my lesson with that one when Agent Morgan started reciting Pride and Prejudice from over my shoulder."

You check your face in a compact before you report to Agent Hotchner's office. Your heart beats in your throat as you knock his open door.

"Come in," he says without looking up.

You take a cautious step.

He finishes off quickly and lifts his chin. His eyes are dark in the early morning light, his hair in mild disarray from the wind and drizzle.

"Come in," he says again.

You wish there was a word that could describe his voice accurately. He talks in the peaceable kind of cadence that comes with hushed tones without truly being hushed.

"Sir…" You bite the bullet. "If this is about the macadamia cookies, I promise I'll replace them. I didn't actually eat any of them. They kind of fell out of the cabinet and exploded, it was a freak accident."

He holds up his hand. "Thank you. For the handkerchiefs. They were unnecessary."

He says 'unnecessary' with a smile.

"Actually, sir, I think they were entirely necessary." You just disagreed with your boss. "Sir. I couldn't return the first, I ruined it and I- I didn't think you'd want it even if I got it dry cleaned."

He raises his eyebrows. "It was unnecessary," he repeats, the word drawn out carefully. "But, I appreciate the gesture. Thank you."

Two thank you's. You stop while you're ahead. "You're more than welcome, Agent Hotchner, sir."

You share an amicable glance and turn to leave.

"L/N?"

You stutter to a halt. "Sir?"

"Hotch is fine."

You try not to swallow your own tongue. "Hotch," you say, and then worry that's something people only do in movies.

A few days later, your humming along to your earphones and wading through the chaos of the bullpen feeling pretty happy. The office has been busy but not in the scary, suffocating way, and you're happy to be here. The BAU can be hard (and that's as someone who isn't on the front line). Times like this are cherished.

You pause a foot from your desk, eyes creasing into a suspicious squint.

There's a small box on your desk.

"What is that?" you ask your desk buddy.

"What?" they ask.

"That. There's a thing on my desk."

"Nothing to do with me."

"Think I should call the bomb squad?"

"I'm sure you'll be alright. Maybe read the note before you raise the alarm."

"There's a note?" you mumble, caution swiftly overrun by a burning curiosity.

You'd be sincerely worried about a bomb, only this is the FBI. If a bomb got this far into the building half the people in it would lose their jobs. You kick your bag under the desk and drop your ipod onto the desk, tinny music blaring from your earphones.

"What are you?" you ask under your breath.

The box is wrapped in crepe paper and a yellow sticky note has been attached to the top.

Rest assured, made without lead.

That only confuses you more. You're hesitance has your desk mate sitting up in their chair. "Wait," they say, peering over the glass partition, "should I raise the alarm?"

You slide a trim fingernail under a neat stripe of tape. "No, I think we're good," you mumble.

And lo and behold, a mug is homed inside. A Peanuts mug no less; the mug has been printed with a Peanuts comic panel. Charlie Brown lays on the floor in a straight plank, and standing overy him is his friend Linus, who says, "I have been asked to tell you that your cries of anguish are keeping the whole neighbourhood awake!"

You laugh loud and instinctively, shrill enough to attract the attention of half the office. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you slouch down as low as possible in your desk chair. Heat pools in your cheeks.

"What is it?" your desk mate asks.

"A present."

And hence your new favourite mug is brought into life. You write your name on the bottom with black sharpie and continue to deny all knowledge of the first, which you retire to the drawer of your desk.

For a while your nosebleeds go away. You know exactly who left the mug on your desk, and you remember the joke he'd made. Maybe Hotch had been on to something, and you'd inadvertently poisoned yourself.

You smile practically every time you see your new mug, and you're unsurprised when others appreciate its humour.

You're not sure how to explain it to an eight year old, though.

You're slumped over, nose to the desk and hand working diligently across your notes. Having a crush on your boss makes doing your work easier because you're constantly trying to impress him — an impossible task, but trying all the same. Your earphones bump a soft love song, something sweet to cut through the unhappy details of the case file you're working on.

"What are you listening to?" a small voice asks.

You drag your gaze up slowly and find Jack Hotchner standing beside your desk. You've seen him in person a few times, and once as Hotch's phone wallpaper, but he grows so much between visits you almost don't recognise him.

"I'm sorry," you say, pulling your earphone out, "what did you say?"

"What song are you listening to?" he asks, hands creeping up over the lip of your desk.

You sit up and smile at him. You can't say he looks like Hotch, though maybe you can see it in his tiny grin, that hint of cheekiness. "I'm listening to a song called At Last. It's a love song. Do you… want to listen?" you offer quietly.

He nods.

You push your chair away from your desk and turn down the ipod's volume so it doesn't damage his hearing. "Here," you say, offering one of your earbuds. "Don't push it in, okay? I don't want it to hurt your ears."

Jack takes the proffered earbud but doesn't seem super interested. "Do you have The Beatles?" he asks.

"The Beatles! Is that what you and your dad listen to?"

He nods, pleased, and you nod yourself, flicking through your songs in search of what he wants.

"I have Here Comes the Sun. Do you like that one?"

He beams. "Yes! Me and dad sing that one in the car."

That's a really nice image, Hotch and Jack belting happy lyrics together in the busy mornings. It's also odd. Hotch singing isn't an image you can say you've ever thought of before.

"I love this one," you tell him, letting your elbows dig into your thighs so the two of you are eye level with one another.

"Me too."

You share the earbuds, Jack combing your desk for something interesting no doubt. You cover a case detail that involves some gory images and almost knock over your mug in your haste.

"What does that say?" he asks, pointing.

Jack looks between you and the mug for answers.

You lick your lips. "Uh, do you want me to read it to you?"

He thinks about it. "Can I try?"

"Of course you can."

You clear a path for the mug and place it in front of him.

"I have been asked to tell you," he begins confidently, "that your cries of an-" He frowns. "Anguish are keeping the whole ne… I don't know that."

"I'm sure you do, it just looks weird. Neighbourhood."

"Neighbourhood," he repeats. "Keeping the whole neighbourhood awake." He huffs a boyish, gentle laugh that makes your heart spin.

"Good job, buddy."

He melts under your praise. He's a cute kid, and his hair shines golden under the office lighting. It flops to one side as he tilts his head. "What's 'anguish'?"

"Anguish. Uhm, it's like sadness."

"Oh." He takes this in. "Do you have Let It Be?"

You eventually give up your chair and let Jack sit with your ipod in his lap, playing through all The Beatles songs that you have. Nobody seems to be watching you and Hotch has yet to come out of his office and tell you off for supplying his son with technology, so you work around him, leaning over the back of the chair to fill in what's missing from your reports.

Jack leans back in his chair, his adorable singing coming to a stop. "Do you have movies on the computer?"

Yes, but should my boss' son know that? "It's for work," you say regretfully.

"Not even FernGully?"

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's okay, it's not your fault."

"Do you like to draw? I don't have many colours, but we can play a game."

He smiles for a moment, then hesitation crawls over his features. "Dad says not to disturb anyone."

"I'm on my lunch break," you assure him. You hadn't been, but you don't mind taking it now. "Are you hungry? I have oranges."

You and Jack end up sitting under your desk. You really don't mean to end up like that; you sit on your knees because your back has started to ache and Jack wants to sit with you. You can't say no to him. (You could, you just don't want to.)

"What did she say after that?" you ask, fingers digging into two orange segments to pull them apart. You shave off all of the strands of white pith before you pass it to Jack, who says thank you every time.

"She said to ask Stacy who said to ask Morgan P who said to ask Joan. And Joan said she didn't wanna know, but then she changed her mind after I told her abd she said to ask Cooper."

"What did Cooper say?"

"Cooper says he doesn't think he knows where it is."

You nod, chewing your own orange slice slovenly. "Well, what did your dad say?"

"I haven't told dad."

You lift your head from the paper where Jack has drawn an impressive house with five windows. "You haven't told your dad?"

"He worries about everything."

"That's his job, Jack. He has to worry about you."

"He worries about everybody."

"Some people do." You clean another orange slice for him, and he says thank you again. "You're welcome… Jack, I really think you should tell you dad. It sounds like somebody might have taken your pencil case on purpose. And even if he can't find out who did, he can get you some new pencils for school."

"I told mom but she hasn't done anything yet."

Your stomach hurts.

"Well," you murmur, picking up the green pen, "I'm sure she's trying her best, baby. Can I help colour in these trees?"

You and Jack fall into a companionable silence, his head bobbing to You Make My Dreams (Come True) the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're not sure how long you sit there, but all good things must come to an end, and your half hour for lunch draws to a close.

"Hey, Jack?" you say, straightening where you kneel and preparing to stand. "I have some stuff I have to do but you're welcome to stay there."

Unfortunately, you don't manage to grab his attention. Double unfortunately, somebody else does.

"Morgan, where's Jack?"

You peek past your desk chair. A little ways away, Hotch stands looking sick to his stomach, and Agent Morgan looks lost.

"I didn't have him?"

"I asked him to sit with you," Hotch says miserably, throwing his gaze over the office. "Jack?"

Jack hears that loud and clear. Something in his dad's tone must spark some urgency, as he stands in a rush and trips on his own shoelace, smacking the top of his head into your nose.

You gasp.

"Ouch," Jack moans.

Blinking, you shake off your disorientation. "Oh no, are you okay? Here, sweetheart, stand up," you encourage gently, "I'm so sorry, have I hurt your head?"

Jack's gaze to the floor, he rubs the top of his head with a clumsy hand. "It's okay, Miss Agent, it wasn't you and-" He stares at you.

"What?" you ask.

"Dad!" he shouts, backing away from you. "Daddy!"

Jack runs out of your little alcove and straight into his father's legs, almost bowling him over. Hotch drops two relieved hands down to his small shoulders. "What?" he asks, startled, "What happened?"

Your nose stings, admittedly, but you've felt worse. It's a light throbbing that distracts you entirely from the blood racing down your lips until you taste it.

Shit, you think, crawling out from under the desk with one hand, the other clamped over your bleeding nose. Your movement draws Hotch's attention, which in turn gathers at least a quarter of the office's.

"I didn't mean to," Jack says shrilly.

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault," you say stuffily, clambering onto shaky legs.

You turn your head away from the collective gaze of the office and start toward the kitchen and hear at least three different people say, "Wait!"

You ignore them, using your elbow to help tear off a paper towel from the roll and pushing it without finesse against your face. You squirm under the weight of tens of eyes, more embarrassed than anything else, worse when a warm hand turns you by the shoulder.

"He really didn't mean to," you say, looking up into Hotch's concerned face.

"I know."

"Is he okay?”

"He's not the one with a nosebleed," Hotch says, neither kind nor unkind.

"I honestly didn't even feel it."

His fingers curl around your wrist, a slow tightening. "That doesn't surprise me, Y/N."

You bite your tongue to stop from laughing. “He bumped his head into me."

"Mm. Just a red mark. It won't even bruise."

You deflate in relief. "Oh, good."

Hotch's hands have found their way onto yours. He pulls one from your nose, gaze hardening at the strong river of blood that makes its way into the dip of your cupid's bow.

"I'm sorry, sir."

He shakes his head and gathers another wad of tissue paper, a light blue that quickly turns to a wine dark when he presses it to your face. Your heart hammers at his proximity, a thousand and one nerves aflame.

He's close but not too close, nothing anyone could mistake for something else, and still it feels like a strangely intimate moment. His careful touches. He directs your hand to hold a fresh paper towel to the stream of blood and discards the bloody tissue. You watch him push up his sleeves carefully and give his hands a quick rinse in the sink before he dampens another paper towel.

It's cool against your neck.

"I think your shirt is ruined," he says, dabbing at a line of dried blood.

You shiver at the feeling of cold water dripping under your starched collar.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, moving up to your jaw.

You don't know how to admit it to him. No, it doesn't hurt. Your hands are really warm, and you're touching me so gently I can barely feel it.

"A little."

"Well, Jack is very sorry."

"He doesn't have to be. He tripped, he…" You fade off as Hotch lays his hand across your cheek, thumb lifting your head slightly so he can clean your chin.

"How are you faring?" he asks.

You pull your tissue away and wait for the tell-tale heat of continued blood flow. You're ashamed to admit it but you're almost glad it hasn't stopped, Hotch's hand warm and large and impossibly comforting. Nosebleeds don't stress you out, exactly, but it's not fun to be covered in your own blood at work where everyone can see you. It's nice to have somebody wiping it away.

"I think I'll live," you say.

—

Jack sends you an apology card.

It's hand delivered. Hotch is coming up to the BAU main floor as you're heading out. Like a rock dividing a river, his teammates stream from the elevator around you and Hotch remains inside.

"I'll catch up," he promises.

Agent JJ raises her eyebrows. Agent Morgan chuckles.

You draw in on yourself self-consciously. You don't dress as nicely when he isn't here, and today you're rivalling Dr. Reid for most lovable dork in a pair of brown pants and a big sweater. Teetering the line between professional and unprofessional.

"Sir," you greet, stepping into the elevator.

He presses the ground floor button. "I have something for you."

Your eyebrows jump up high. Hotch unzips the main zipper of his duffle back and threads between clothes and papers for a smaller envelope.

"It's for you."

You accept, careful not to tear the thin sheet of folded paper as you pull it free. You're thrilled to see a drawing of Charlie Brown on the front, crudely drawn but clearly him with his head-wrapped in bandages. His puppy Snoopy sits beside him with something in his hands. You're not sure what.

The inside is even sweeter.

To Y/N

I am sorry if I made your nose angwished. Please feel better soon

Love, Jack Hotchner.

"Oh, I love it," you say, rubbing your thumb over a heart drawn in red crayon. "He's really something else, Hotch. He's brilliant, and so smart. I mean, anguished."

He laughs and it twists your chest in five different directions. "He is."

"It wasn't his fault though. If my nose weren't so sensitive it really wouldn't have bled at all, I didn't bruise. How is he? Did his head feel better?"

The doors open. You hesitate, waiting for his reply.

"Children are made of harder stuff than we are," he says.

You step backwards out of the elevator. "I felt so bad. I don't suppose he'll want to come and sit with me again."

"Actually," Hotch says, stepping out of the elevator just as the doors close again, "he thinks you're, uh, in his own words, the 'coolest friend' I've ever had."

"Friend," you repeat with a smile.

You've focused on the wrong word, and you worry an awkward silence will ensue, but Hotch steps up to the plate and says, "Yeah. He wouldn't stop telling me about all the cool songs you have on your ipod."

"Purely for non-working hours."

"Right." His smile says that he's seen straight through you.

You're thinking maybe he likes what he sees.

"This is really amazing," you reaffirm, pressing Jack's card to your chest.

"He felt guilty."

"He doesn't have to. Please, tell him I said thank you. And that he's amazing. And that my nose was being dramatic." You smile softly. "He can sit with me whenever he likes."

"Maybe at the desk, next time, rather than under it."

"Yes, sir."

You nod at him and he nods back, and you take it as a dismissal, turning on your heel. You've barely walked a metre when he's speaking up.

"Y/N?"

You look at him from over your shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Are you hungry?"

You bite your cheek in a hurry to answer, “Yeah. I’m starving.”

Your heart is basically a ticking time bomb in your chest as you and Hotch make your way into the heart of the city. He's a fast walker with long legs and you rush to keep up. That’s totally why you’re breathless. Not because he makes you nervous.

Hotch is a really surprising guy, though maybe he isn’t surprising at all, you’re simply unversed in how he is outside of work. He talks more and his voice grows louder the further into the city you go, more expressive.

You’re no profiler, but you’d bet money on Aaron Hotchner being nervous.

Good thing you’re nervous, too.

“It’s not far now. You like Thai?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course. Have you ever had Tom Yum?”

“With shrimp?”

“Exactly.”

“I think I’ve tried it. I lived off of pad Thai when I was a prosecutor,” he says, head tilting back very slightly. His Adam’s apple works under the skin.

He looks back down, a sheepishness to his voice as he continues, “A lot of late nights.”

“More than now?” you ask skeptically.

His laugh is low and warm. “No. The firm was much closer to the city than the bureau. It’s a long walk.”

“It is,” you say, taking a small step closer to his side to share a secret smile, “but it hasn’t felt that way tonight.”

You try to keep it light. You don’t want to scare him off.

“No,” he agrees. “It hasn’t.”

You duck into a fragrant Thai restaurant and order fast, the two of you knee to knee in the very corner. A potted plant threatens to blind him every time he moves, and so he endeavours to stay very still.

The food's a little on the spicy side, and while you're laughing you can't find it in you to feel embarrassed about your runny nose.

"You didn't like Seinfeld?" you ask, and how you got here's a mystery, but Hotch is extremely passionate about it in the best way.

"No, of course not. How could you? George was always worrying about something, he was the definition of a self-fulfilling prophecy and he never learned!" he debates, all in a rush, chopsticks moving in emphasis.

You snort and wipe your nose again. "It was like a relief, though, that it was happening to him and not to you, you know? You might be having a bad day but George Costanza's having a worse one."

"Oh, honey," he says.

It takes you a second to realise that he's talking to you.

"What?" you ask, perplexed.

Hotch stands up though there's no space for it, chopsticks ditched and hand pushed into the recesses of his pocket swiftly. He pulls out a small packet of tissues, and he lifts his chin, a jut. You lift your own, and he's quick to press the tissue to your nose.

"It's bleeding?" you ask, startled.

"Just a little."

"Sorry."

"No, no," he says, bent down, a comforting hand around your shoulder, "don't be. It gives me an excuse."

"To do what?"

"To be this close."

Your smile is a slow, molasses thick thing. You can't get a handle on it, and Hotch's answering one is worse. He looks so happy to be here with you, to be wiping your bloody nose.

It's only a small nose bleed. Hotch pulls the tissue away once or twice to check, wiping at it tenderly and giving you a comforting squeeze each time. The silence feels natural as breathing.

"There," he says eventually, pulling the bloodied tissue away with a smile. "All done."

"Thank you, Hotch."

"I'd think you'd better start calling me Aaron, considering."

"Considering what?"

His hand climbs from your shoulder to the column of your throat. He doesn't make you wait any longer, leaning down with a sure, brave deliberateness. He presses his lips to yours.

A sweet kiss but too short — barely two seconds and he's taking a half-step away, your lips tingling in want.

You go to stand and he pushes you down into your seat, not unkindly. "I'm gonna go see if I can get some hot water for you," he says, placating your gutted look with a kiss to your cheek.

He wipes it thoughtlessly with the pad of his thumb before he goes.

You're genuinely surprised your nose doesn't start bleeding again at the look he gives you as he turns the corner toward the restaurant's kitchen. Protective, knowing. Your heart races in your chest.

You probe at your face, elated. Your sensitive nose is good for something after all.

—

The first time you sleepover with Aaron is an accident. You don't "mess around," as you'd crooned over the phone, joking but with enough salaciousness to make him smile. The gas and hot water had stopped working in your apartment, and though the landlord had promised they'd fix it the very next morning, Aaron couldn't stand to think about you cold and alone when you could easily be warm and with him.

So here you are.

"Are you sure this is okay?" you whisper, peering over his shoulder at Jack.

His son stands in the living room in his pyjamas.

"It's okay," he says, "I asked him, and you know he's obsessed with you. His one condition is that you watch FernGully."

"FernGully," you say, enthused.

"You'll like it."

You actually really do. Showered and dressed in your own pyjamas, a little shy but not too much to stop from laying against his side on the sofa. He's got one arm around you and one around Jack but he might as well be invisible, the two of you talking in murmurs across his chest.

"And that's-"

"Pips," Jack supplies helpfully.

"Pips," you say, hand spread over Aaron's chest.

If he didn't know better he'd think this was a slice of heaven.

"So many people," you whisper in Aaron's ear.

"More in the second one."

"There's two?"

After the movies finished — "It was better than you said, Jack," — and dinner’s been eaten and cleared away, Aaron takes Jack to bed.

"Do you want a story?" Aaron asks, flitting around the room in a half-hearted attempt to square away the mess.

"No."

"You sure?"

Jack's eyes are heavy, and they have been since dinner. "Yes," he mumbles, face turned into his pillow, hands lax on top of his blanket.

Aaron smiles and makes his way to Jack's side. He kisses his son's cheek, and strokes the soft hair from his face. He smells like strawberry toothpaste and kids shampoo.

You're sitting on the end of the bed when he gets to you, face damp with skincare and shining in the light. Aaron kisses you without touching it, worried he'll mess it up.

“He’s wiped. All the excitement,” he says.

“Excitement- From me?” you ask.

“From you.” He puts his hands carefully either side of your neck.

You haven’t been dating very long, and still he knows how easy it is to fluster you. And while he loves to see it, see you giddy and shy, blinking at nothing like there’s a light shining in your eyes. He’d once pressed his thumb with the very faintest of pressure into your windpipe while kissing you, and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for three days.

He loves that, but he’d prefer if you slept facing him. He wants to see what you look like asleep, as odd as it sounds, he assumes you’ll be beautiful. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were more.

“Aaron,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Want me to massage your bad shoulder?”

He wonders, as he thinks is more than allowed, if that’s a seduction trick, but you genuinely just give him a massage, as you have a couple of times in his office after noticing how sore it gets now the weather’s cold.

You rub into the problem spot carefully, sighing with sympathy. “Oh, baby,” you say, more to yourself than him.

He fucking loves the way you say it. Aaron’s never been called baby like that — like it’s his name, and it’s sweet to say. Your tired yawns warm the back of his neck as you go. He doesn’t think he’s getting lucky tonight, and he doesn’t care one bit. He feels pretty lucky just having you near.

He gets you under the covers before you can fall asleep against his back and makes sure you know how grateful he is for the massage with two kisses. The first is a genuine thank you and the second is to make you laugh, nipping and playful under your jaw.

Aaron falls asleep thinking about it.

He wakes to something much less idyllic.

It’s that strange feeling. Being a dad has honed it, but he’s always had it. It’s one of the things that makes him so good at his job, a prickling at the back of his neck. At first he can’t pin it down.

Your waist rises under his hand with your breathing. He remembers that you’re there and smiles contentedly, hand sliding behind your back to pull you in. You’d fallen asleep on your back, and you’ve turned toward him in your sleep.

The metallic stick of blood is sudden and sharp in his nose. He knows what it is before he opens his eyes. The room is dark, lit only by the red light of his alarm clock on the nightstand. His eyes ache with fatigue, and he knows in his gut that it’s too early to get up.

Blood pools under your nose. Not a lot, nothing to panic over, but blood all the same. He sits up, quickly turns on his bedside lamp, and rouses you as gently as he can, a hand slid under your shoulders to drag you up.

You blink blearily. “What?” you ask, voice scratchy.

“Nosebleed,” he informs, pinching your nose before blood can slink down your neck and ruin your pyjama shirt.

You wince and he hates the way you flinch away from his touch, your clouded confusion. It’s only a second but it doesn’t sit right with him.

“Sorry, honey.”

You catch hold of his bicep and blink some more.

“You okay to pinch it yourself? I’ll go grab some tissue paper.”

You nod robotically and replace his light pinching with your own, much less kind. He rushes to grab a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom, and when he returns you've pulled yourself into an alert sitting position, awaiting his return.

He tears you off a wad of paper. “Here, honey.”

“I think it’s stopped.”

“Yeah? Let me grab you a towel.”

Back to the bathroom. When he returns for the second time you’re holding his given toilet paper against your face. He’s alarmed to find your eyes glassy with tears, shimmering in the bedroom light.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, sitting across from you.

He’d been right about sleepy you. You look lovely, a little funny with your rumpled pyjamas, and now quite sad because of your tears. “Honey,” he says again, pulling your hand from your face so he can assess the damage, “you’re okay. Is it hurting?”

You’ve told him before the nosebleeds are painless, but maybe they’re a symptom of something, maybe you’re sick—

“I ruined your pillow,” you mutter.

Ah. That’s much better than your being sick. He can work with that easily.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to lift your head. The blood has stopped already; your nosebleeds are often a whirlwind, over by the time you’ve started panicking.

“I’m sorry.”

He drops your bloodied tissue into his lap and brings the dampened towel to your face. He’s cautious. Your nose gets irritated and any roughness could disrupt the blood clot or agitate the anterior blood vessels inside.

“You think I’m mad over a pillow?”

“No, of course not.”

You sound stuffy. It’s adorable. Adorable and sad. He rubs the hill of your chin in a show of affection.

“Then why?”

“Sorry, I think I’m just tired. I- I was trying to make tonight perfect because,” — a small tear bumps down your cheek — “it’s our first night together even if it was accidental.”

He dabs at your upper lip and the wet blood there with a smile growing. “It was perfect. It is perfect. You getting a nosebleed on a seven dollar pillow doesn’t change that.” His hand moves to your cheek, squashing your baby tear. “You know I love any opportunity to touch you… Now, do you want a glass of water?”

You close your eyes and lean your face heavily into his palm. “Can I have one of those kisses from earlier?”

“Can you keep your blood inside your body?” he asks with a smile, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Depends how hard you bite me.”

He’s very, very gentle.

—

Aaron breaks his nose. You are not supposed to know that he breaks his nose, only he breaks it so bad that he has to go to the hospital to get it set, and he decides he’d like you there.

Technically, somebody else broke his nose. The details aren’t important. What matters is that Aaron makes a rookie mistake and he has to deal with the consequences, which is a biting, aching pain behind his eyes and a trip to the ER. He does not let them take him in an ambulance, and it really isn’t urgent. He sits in a waiting room chair with a stiff back and it doesn’t take long before you’re striding inside looking terrified.

“Hey, baby,” he says, testing it out. He doesn’t really like it.

“What did they give you?” you ask, bending at the waist to take his face into your kind hands.

“Vicodin when I got here.”

“Lucky you.” You turn his face in your hands.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“I wish I could say the same, but somebody messed you up bad.”

He laughs and takes your face into his hands, the two of you smiling way too much for the situation that you’re in. “I was so worried,” you say with a little laugh.

He kisses you soundly. It hurts, but it’s worth it.

They call his name not long after and a nurse takes you both into a grey examination room. The doctor is a short, stern woman who has to use a stool to reach Aaron’s face, and she sets his nose with a swiftness that even he manages to recognise for the brutality that it is in his drug haze.

You hold his hand. He has to try very hard not to crush your fingers.

It starts bleeding immediately.

Aaron meets your gaze over the doctor's head, eyes wide and in similar fashion as your own, and he knows it’s an adverse reaction to shocking pain but he starts giggling. Aaron Hotchner doesn’t giggle, really. He laughs, and sometimes when he’s with Jack that laugh can get super loose and high, but this is a bona fide giggle.

You try to gasp in shock but you’re laughing too. “Aaron,” you reproach.

He holds his breath as the doctor presses gauze to his face.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he says.

You snicker behind your hand. The doctor presses gauze to his face and rolls her eyes. She likely does not get paid enough.

“You’re still handsome,” you say giddily.

“Oh, well that's good.”

There’s a small silence rife with tension, and when it breaks it bursts like a dam. You laugh so hard you end up clinging to his arm, chest pressed to his bicep. He strokes the back of your head with a wobbly hand, wondering how miserable he’d be if you weren’t here with him right now.

“What happened to keeping all your blood inside your body, Hotchner?” you ask, delighted.

He beams at you dopily. “I’ve never been any good at that.”

You kiss his forehead. The doctor is furious.

༺༻

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kathaynesart · 1 year ago

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Replica Holiday Special Winners!

Happy Holidays everyone! It's that time of year and you know what that means! Time to announce the winners for the DTIYS Replica Holiday Special Cover!

I received so many wonderful submissions. Far more than I had anticipated! They were all so unique and creative and it was an absolute joy to look at each and every one of them! I really underestimated however how difficult it would be to choose with them all being so unique from each other. In the end, I decided to gauge the top picks on how well their cover captured the "essence" of what this Special is going to be like! Without further ado, here are the winners.

HONORABLE MENTION - @matchstique

Buddy! I love this piece so dang much! It has so much character and perfectly displays the wacky hijinks we can expect as well as the huge amount of stress our poor boys are under during these trying, pregnancy times. The movement and colors work so well and make me excited for what comes next! Seldom do I see pregnant females shown as the badasses they are, but you have gone and turned Cassandra into an absolute icon with this piece! Bless you!

3RD PLACE - @thegunnsara

Sara, the shear amount of craft you put into your art is STAGGERING. Every scuff on Raph's shell and wisp of smoke screams of a quality I can only hope to attain someday. I literally want to be you when I grow up! That said, the concept of this piece is also fantastic. One of the things I'm must excited about for this Special is getting to see Raph and Casey as they were and witnessing the strong bond they share. I love them dearly and this cover captures their strength and tenacity so perfectly. Gods among men.

2ND PLACE - @cupcakeslushie

Slushie, this cover is so damn fun and dynamic that I can't stop looking at it! Your attention to detail and composition are masterful and the fact that you could fit such a bombastic battle into such a limited space speaks to how crazy talented you are! You also do a wonderful job of retaining both the intensity of the apocalypse but also that playful edge that Rise always manages to retain! It's definitely the cover that would catch my eye on a shelf and make me want to turn the page to see what happens next!

1ST PLACE - @abbeyofcyn

Cyn, the moment I saw this cover, I gasped! It's funny because this is both a piece I could have totally seen myself doing had I done the cover, yet crafted in a unique way I could have never come up with on my own! On top of that, this slick composition scratches my little designer brain juuust right. The use of the hands motif is such a great element because to me, it encapsulates the conflicting themes of family/parenthood with the drama of what it means to be human. On top of that, having each character as one of the digits both connected to and encircling Casey is such a wonderful touch that really drives the symbolism home. Somehow, you managed to peer into the future and perfectly capture how the finale of this special is going to feel. Thank you so much Cyn for such a wonderful piece!

~~~~~~~~~

Now that I think about it, looking back on these winners as a set, all four them actually do an amazing job as individual covers for each of the four "acts" that will make up this special. That was not at all my intention, but it kind of worked out perfectly for that. Gets me all emotional!

I also definitely want to put a spotlight on the other amazing submissions, many of which made it SO close to the top slots! I was going to post these pieces individually but I was worried people wouldn't then go to their blogs to view the covers, so instead have a compilation and links to the full versions! Please check out everyones amazing covers and give them some love. They all worked really hard and it means so much to me. Thank you everyone!

@dreamundraws - LINK @honeylief - LINK @gemini-forest - LINK @memorydarkness - LINK @skullythefriendlyskullface - LINK @v-albion - LINK @its-wabby-stuff - LINK @yris-latteyi - LINK @reagi-df - LINK @chaoscontrol50 - LINK / LINK @murasakibonnet - LINK @hitwiththetmnt - LINK @xandriagreat - LINK @karonkar - LINK @sunydays - LINK (sorry my dear, yours did not appear on my hashtag reference at first! D: But still love it!) @quailaz - LINK @delicatechildwitch - LINK

Thank you again all of you! You all did such an amazing job!

#replica dtiys #replica #rottmnt replica #holiday speical #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #not my art

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 5 months ago

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Competitiveness

Word Count - 1500 roughly

Author's Note: Originally this was suppose to be a fluff piece. But then I started typing and it turned into light smut. 😬 Let me know if you guys would want a part 2 where it would be more smut. As always thanks for reading. 💜

Possible Triggers - use of y/n, light making out, grinding, heavy flirting - VERY VERY vanilla compared to other things I have on this blog. 🤣

Summary - Quinn is surprised when he comes home with a new video game Mario Kart and he sees a whole new side of his calm girlfriend. Someone who becomes super competeive and it's very hot.

It was no secret that Quinn had a competitive personality. Most men naturally do, but for professional athletes it’s a given. Plus he had brothers who were naturally competitive in everything - whether training in the summer, wakeboarding, bored games - but especially video games. During the season when Quinn felt more separate from his brothers not only through the distance but sometimes mentally since they lived together now since Luke started playing for the Devils.

You were the complete opposite, sometimes you could be competitive when it came to board games during the summer. But besides that you truly didn’t have a competitive bone in your body. Except when it came to a particular video game from childhood - Mario Kart. Which you failed to mention to Quinn, even though he buys you what he calls “cozy games” for your switch randomly all the time, because he knows they’re your escape from the stress of the world around you. You also told him that you find yourself gaming more when he’s on roadies because it gets your mind off him being away. Buying you games has become one of his ways he shows his love, especially right before a long roadie. So it came to a shock to Quinn when you came home one day and saw him playing Mario Kart, and seeing your face immediately light up. “Ooooo Q when did we get Mario Kart.” As you stand next to him, and start bouncing on your toes so excited to see one of your favorite things from childhood in your new life you’ve built with Quinn.

Quinn had just finished Rainbow Road so he paused his tourmount he was playing. “I just picked it up today, I went to pick up that new game I saw for you, “Stardew Valley” figured it was time to get you a 2 player game so we could play together. But I also saw Mario Kart and figured it would be fun for when the guys come over.” He says a full grin on his face now as he’s watching you fixated on the T.V. “Baby.. what are you thinking about?” As he gets up and slowly wraps his arms around you from the back.

“Hmm…” you say, finally giving attention to Quinn.

“I asked what you're thinking about?” as he kisses the side of your neck, your own little ritual for when he comes home or you come home. Even 2 years later, he loves the way your cheeks blush when he does it.

“Oh just how I love this game and I’m gonna kick your ass” As you turn around his arms so you can see his face finally for the first time since you came home. A huge smile displayed on your face, your eyes glittering with excitement.

“Really?” he asks in a smug voice. “Baby I have never seen you play anything that isn’t relaxing.”

“Uhh Mario Kart is relaxing sir.” You say snutching your face almost with disgust because he didn’t know this as basic face. “It was actually the only game that would get my mind off of everything growing up - I would stay up for hours with (your sibling’s name) and play until ma would catch us and force us to go to bed. In fact, ma banned the game along with “Smash Bros” because we would physically tackle each other when we didn’t win.”

Quinn is now full blown laughing imagining you fighting them. “Okay fine you're on, but I’ll have you know I never lose.”

“Oh baby boy, that's so sweet you think you can beat me.” As you go to grab the second controller that was charging.

“Alright we’ll see.” He says as he starts exiting the tourmount he started so that you can switch to 2 players.

“Alright, since you're so cocky, let's make this interesting.” You say as you get comfortable between Quinn’s legs like you always do when he’s gaming with his brothers and you're on your switch. Quinn always whines when you aren’t close to him when he plays, he says it makes him focus. In some way, bickering at his brothers while playing “Call of Duty” brings your anxiety down too.

“Ooo like what, the person that loses gives the other a kiss.” He says glancing down at you as you're picking your character, you know it sounds cliché but you’ve always played as Peaches as a kid and never lost when you did. Now that you're playing with Quinn, the superstitious part of you won’t risk it.

“Aww that’s so cute you were thinking of a kiss. But I can kiss you anytime I want. I was thinking more like.. Whoever loses has to let the other person do whatever they want to them.” you say as you turn in his lap and because of how you were laying your boobs laying on his cock. As he looks down at you, your boobs falling out of your shirt giving him the perfect angle of them.

“Fuck..” he mumbles under his breath. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?” as a smirk is plastered on his face, as his mind is wandering to all the things he wants to do with you when he wins this tournament.

You puff off a breath of air, a mix of a chuckle and gasp. “Lately yes… today no. So does that mean we have a Hughes deal?” Sticking your hand out for him to shake to the agreements like it’s an official bet.

“Oh baby girl I love you so much,” His hand is going to crease your cheek making your breath catch in your throat. “ And we 100 percent have a deal Y/L/N”As his hand moves your cheek casually touching the top of your boobs on display as he goes to shake your hands. Both of you have devilish smirks on your face as you turn around to have the screen as you both get ready for the tournament.

Let’s just say 10 minutes later Quinn is shocked he didn’t win a single round. He didn’t even play during the award ceremony but you got first. You go to sit up and turn on. “Well like I said I love this game, now what do I want you to do first” As you bit your lip.

“Nope nope nope, rematch now.” He declares brows pulled down with a look mix of determination and pouting on his face. As he is already setting up for a second round, as he shifts himself on the coach so he’s sitting up and it would be physically impossible to lay back down.

“Quinny… it won’t matter I will still win but if it will help you sleep better tonight then okay.” As you adjust yourself so your sitting criss-cross applesauce on the coach.

“Oh baby I’m not gonna go easy on you this time” He says as you're about to start the first race.

“Easy Hughes you couldn’t even place, ONCE and I could feel you stiffen under me after the first 2 races but okay if you “going easy on me” is your excuse for losing.” you say as you take off leaving Quinn in the dust.

You win again without a problem.But you will say Quinn was able to place this time with Bronze. You don’t have the heart to tell him you were going slowly on the last race so he would do better overall in the tournament. “Ssso.. do I get to cash in my price yet.” As you climb into his lap and lightly grind against him to feel his semi-hard cock get harder.

“Okay.. I give up.” as his hands go down your arms finding their way to hips and squeezing. Encouraging you to continue as you start kissing him, as he quiets your moans with his tongue sliding into your mouth. His hands going to your ass, the need to feel all of you at once slowly taking over his body. He pulls his mouth away from you just far enough to ask “okay where do you want me ms. winner.” As you go to chase his lips again. “First bed.. I want you to carry me up the stairs and fuck me against the wall. But the wall furthest away from the mirror so I can see your full body and how well you fill me up as I cry in pleasure.” You say connecting your lips again this time Quinn moaning and whimpering into your mouth at the thought.

“Fuck baby. Your wish is my command.” He says as picks you up off the coach, you let out a squeal of shock and he carries you effortlessly upstairs. “Can I just say I see why your mom banned Mario Kart.” As you enter the bedroom your black slams against the wall you requested. You let out a small moan welcoming the pain your shoulders are feeling from the impact. “But I don’t think we're at the level of banning yet.” He whispers as he continues his attack down your neck. You let out a moan, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure. To say that you were happy that you got to play Mario Kart for the first time in probably 10 years would be the understatement of the year.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hughes imagine #nhl fanfication #nhl fic #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fluff #qh43 #quinn hughes fic #hughes fanfiction #hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #hughes brothers writing #hughes brothers blurb #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks fanfiction #vancouver canucks fic #schwritingsqh43

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 17- No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

Summary: You and Javi are continuing to make progress on building your new house, until a few distractions are thrown your way that you definitely weren't expecting.

Word Count: 12.3K (how bad is it that I'm like, wow! What an average length for a chapter! Well done, me!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), HELLO, STRAP IN EVERYONE. unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), romantic? ANAL (you guys, I'm sweating), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (f receiving), rimjob (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, insecurity but Javi being our consent KING and literally taking such good care of you (but would we expect anything less?!), Javi with dogs (hehehehe), everyone say thank you to our favorite village idiots Carter and Miller for helping out Javi and Osita (you'll see!!)

A/N: If there are two words to sum up the plot of this chapter, it is butts and dogs (if you watch Bluey, yes, the puppy is named after Muffin LMAO) 💀 I am so sorry this chapter took FOREVER, 1) Life has been crazy busy (parent teacher conferences sucked the life out of me for like a full week), and 2) I would be lying if I said I was not shakin' in my boots to post this bc I have never written legit butt stuff smut (say that 3 times fast) before and I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't wanna read this chapter/skip the smut I will not be offended at all!! Also for my non-American friends, Home Depot is like a giant hardware store (that also sells hot dogs that absolutely slap) Okay, that's all, love y'all more than words, forehead kisses for all of you!! 😙 also please laugh at the name of this chapter I thought it was funny as hell, I'm crackin myself up

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“Okay, we have paint samples, countertop samples, carpet samples, sheets of drywall, toilets that are ordered can come get picked up on Tuesday, and we can let Danny know they finally have those screws he’s been looking for back in stock. That’s everything, right? Please say that’s everything.” You sighed, going over your home project to-do list for what felt like the 47th time before exiting out of Home Depot for what also felt like the 147th time this week.

What had started as a plot of land and and a head full of ideas was slowly but surely becoming reality as progress on your new home came to fruition- as winter faded into spring, your house began to grow and change with the seasons, bare bones wooden beams and dirt of a few months ago now becoming walls, floors and roofs of the new place you’d spend forever in. While it was exciting to move into the stages of actually deciding what the inside of your home should look like (not just shape and size), it felt like you and Javi had been making a million and one decisions every day related to something to do with the house, and unfortunately, this Sunday night was no exception.

“No, I think that’s everything.” Javi nodded, scanning over the wrinkled piece of paper in his hands once more.

“We might as well just start changing our permanent address to this Home Depot. I’m pretty sure the employees are convinced we live here at this point.” You laughed, resting one hand on your hip, the other full of the sample swatches you and Javi needed to look at when you got home. “You sure that’s everything? Honestly, even if it’s not, let’s face it, we’ll be here some point later this week anyways. At least now it’s getting to the fun stuff- Paint and floors is a lot more fun than plumbing and electrical.”

“I know. We’re almost there, Osita. Danny said 8 to 10 more weeks last time I talked to him.”

“Over/under on how many more trips we make to Home Depot between now and then. I’m gonna say 56.”

“You’re such a dork. I fucking hope it’s not 56.”

The two of you made your way out to the parking lot with hands full of goods, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the other buildings of the shopping center- a Chinese restaurant, a laundry mat, a building that had been under construction since your frequent trips to Home Depot began, and a pet store.

You and Javi had tried the Chinese restaurant once, a few bites in simultaneously agreeing it was 100% the worst food you had ever had, never needed to go to the laundry mat, and god knows what the mystery building was getting turned into. You had, however, always wanted to go into the pet store, knowing it would be fun to walk around and look at the animals since it was something you loved doing as a kid with your brothers. But by the time the two of you were done with your hardware shopping, your brain was too fried to ever ask Javi if he wanted to go in and check things out as an entertaining thing to do. Tonight probably would have been no exception to the rule, but that was before you noticed the big sign posted in front of the store reading “Dog Adoption Event Today!”

You and Javi had both agreed you had wanted to get a dog- that was something the two of you had easily agreed upon early on in your relationship- but like most things nowadays, you were waiting until the house was finished and you were out of the apartment before looking into getting one. You knew that going to look at dogs before the two of you could really do anything about it was a bad idea, but the longer you stared at that sign, the less and less willpower you began to have to keep yourself from running over there.

“Jav.” You nudged, the two of you almost to Javi’s truck before stopping in your tracks, gesturing over to the pet store. Javi paused next to you, taking a moment to read the bright bold letters of the sign, letting out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Baby, you know we can’t get a dog right now. Believe me, I want one too, but we gotta wait until the house is done first.”

“I know. Can we just go look? Please?” While your puppy dog eyes were no match compared to Javi’s, you pouted your lip just about as far as it could go, batting your lashes at him with a pitiful frown on your face. You had no idea how Javi was ever going to be able to say no to your kids if he was already immediately caving from your silly, overexaggerated begging, let alone his own sweet brown eyes staring back at tiny versions of him. Regardless, right now, Javi’s lack of iron will was working in your favor, letting out another small sigh, contemplating for a moment before nodding his head in agreement.

“Fine. But just looking, okay?” He muttered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

“Yes! Thank you! I promise, just looking… Probably.” You grinned, changing directions and speed walking across the parking lot towards the pet shop. Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he followed behind you.

“I heard that.”

As you walked through the front doors of the pet store, you were greeted with the sounds of high pitched barks and yaps, joining the few people gathered by the pen set up to contain the litter of what looked to be a mix of cattle dogs and something shorter and stumpier, the brown and cream speckled puppies bouncing and playing with the toys, blankets, and other littermates in the cage with them. You audibly let out a gasp as you looked down at the pure adorableness of the sweet little balls of fluff below you, squatting down next to the pen to get a better look at the group of puppies.

“Oh my god, they’re so cute. Javi, they’re so freaking cute. Hi lil babies, aren’t you the most precious things ever?” You cooed, holding the back of your hand up to the cage for the playful puppies to sniff, their tiny bodies toppling over each other to smell you.

As much as Javi wanted to be tough and strong willed to try and prove a point, you were right- these puppies were the cutest things he’d seen in a long time. Crouching down next to you, he glanced over, giving you the I told you this was a bad idea look that you knew you were bound to get from him the moment you saw the puppies.

“They are really fucking cute.” Javi sighed in reluctant agreement, bringing his hand down by yours to try and pet some of the puppies through the cage.

“Oh hi there! I see you two found the puppies!” An employee, an older woman with curly gray hair, smiled down at the two of you, gesturing towards the pen full of tiny, yapping pups. “Are you interested in adopting one?” You and Javi looked up at her, each of you letting out a deep breath before speaking at the same time, your answers lacking unison.

“No.”

“Maybe.” You quietly whispered under Javi’s no, letting out a little shrug, eyes darting away towards Javi to spare yourself from the eye roll you knew he was giving you from your response. “No, we’re not…” You finally agreed, giving another pouty, sad look to Javi. “We really want one, but we’re in an apartment right now and are moving into a house soon. We’re waiting until then to get one. Although these guys are making it very hard to keep it that way.”

“I can understand that.” The woman laughed, a playful grin spread across her face, clearly sensing your willpower about the situation was much weaker than Javi’s. “Well, even if you’re not interested in adopting one right now, you’re more than welcome to pick them up or play with them! It’s good for them to practice being handled anyways.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Immediately, you stood up, bending over the edge of the pen to pick up one of the puppies closest to you, cuddling it against your chest as it squirmed and wiggled in your grasp. You sat bag down on the floor, cross legged as you cradled the puppy, eyes almost as wide and sweet as the dog you were now holding. “What’s this one’s name?” You asked the woman, carefully setting it down between your legs to let it bounce around.

“That one is Muffin. He’s a feisty one, but a sweetheart.” She beamed, slowly bending down to pick up one of the stuffed toys in the cage, handing it over to Javi. Before you knew it, Muffin was scooting out of your lap and bolting over to Javi and the plush rabbit he was holding in his hands, making the both of you giggle at his goofy, floppy gallop. Javi held out the toy in front of him, a smile spreading across his face as Muffin bit down into the rabbit, shaking it in his mouth, tugging back at Javi’s grip on the stuffed animal. Any shred of stubbornness Javi was trying to hold out on was long gone, smiling and snickering just as wide as you as Muffin hopped into Javi’s lap, curling up with his toy in his mouth.

Javi was like a little kid, practically giggling as he grabbed the stuffed rabbit and tossed it along the floor, watching Muffin slip and slide across the linoleum before pouncing on the toy and trotting back to Javi with it in his mouth.

“Good boy! You’re smart, aren’t you?” Javi grinned, tugging at the toy before looking back at you and your look, screaming, So much for just looking, huh? without having to say a word. “He is really cute.” Javi admitted, trying his best to keep his composure from completely crumbling. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, giving each other the look that made you seriously contemplate if you were going home with a puppy today, until you looked back down at Muffin, now hunched over Javi’s foot, pee dribbling down his shoe.

“Oh shit!” You grimaced, reaching up to pick up Muffin mid-stream, scooting him over to finish peeing on the floor instead of on Javi.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” The woman gasped, grabbing some towels next to the cage, handing them off to Javi for him to wipe the pee off his shoe. “That is the thing with puppies, the potty training does take a while.”

You were trying your best not to burst out into laughter as you picked Muffin back up, putting him back in the pen with the rest of his brothers and sisters, giving Javi and apologetic shrug at his current circumstances, knowing it was not helping your in any way shape or form to bring a puppy back to your apartment. “No it’s all good, no worries.” Javi smiled, wiping off his shoe with the towel and giving it a quick shake with a reluctant sigh, grounding him back in reality.

“Can’t be any worse than stepping in a pile of cow poop.” You teased as Javi looked down in disappointment at his shoe, finally beginning to shake his head and laugh along with you. “Alright, you win, Mr. Reasonable. Muffin has made a very good case for no puppies at the apartment.”

“Eventually baby, I promise.” Javi smirked, giving you a little nudge, the two of you waving goodbye to the cuteness corralled in the kennel behind you, finally making your way back to the car after your detour.

Well… So much for that plan.

“What about this one?”

“Baby, I don’t know, at this point, they all just look like the same color.” You sighed, slumping your hand in your face, resting your elbow on the kitchen table where you and Javi sat, paint swatches spread across the wooden surface, among scattered samples of carpet, countertops and backsplash tiles. “I don’t think my brain can make any more house decisions tonight.”

“Me either.” Javi huffed, reaching across the table to organize the paint sample cards into a pile next to the stack of other house things that now seemed to have a permanent home with you during dinner time. “I had no fucking idea there were so many goddamn shades of beige.”

“It definitely doesn’t help that we’re trying to just pick through different shades of brown instead of fun colors.” You laughed, gathering the samples in front of you and stacking them in Javi’s pile as he stood up, pushing in his chair and making his way to the other side of the table where you sat, coming behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you leaned your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his to pull him closer.

“Fun colors? What, you wanna paint the house purple, Hermosa?” Javi smiled, giving you a little shake in your chair making you giggle.

“No, you dork. I was actually thinking more hot pink or neon green.” You retorted, giving Javi a nudge back tiling your head up towards him. “No, I don’t know, I know we want something neutral through the house but like, it’ll be fun to pick cute paint colors when we have kids and stuff.”

Javi squeezed you a little tighter, his heart warming at the thought of when they’d get to do this again when there were actually kids in the picture to fill the empty rooms of their house. No matter how many times you and Javi talked about it, he was sure he’d never get over the fact that you wanted to have a family with him. It was a dream that had come and gone for him all those years ago, resigning himself to a life of simply surviving, even after he had returned home to Laredo. But now, the fact that dream was in reach, and undoubtedly in the near future had him beaming, knowing there was no one else in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life and build a family with beside you, and that for some reason he still couldn’t quite comprehend, you felt the same way.

While you had agreed that you would wait until you were married and your house was completely finished before you started trying and your birth control made its permanent home in the trash, with every day that he got closer to marrying you, finalizing your house and starting the newest chapter of your lives together, Javi couldn’t help but feel a want, no, a need, to start a family with you- to fulfill a purpose he so desperately craved to be a father.

“Well…” Javi grinned, leaning back down to kiss your neck, his pecks becoming much more tender and slow with each press of his lips, “you could let me put a baby in you right now, and we could pick out fun paint colors along with the borning brown ones. Got a lot of rooms we need to fill and paint, Osita.”

“Javier Peña! You are a menace! You have to stop with the baby talk, or I swear, you’re about to make me cave in and crumble. You are testing every ounce of willpower I have.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked up, entranced by Javi’s sweet brown eyes and their powerful effects.

While you and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever ever since you had gotten engaged, there was something about knowing you were about to have your own house with 4 extra rooms, solely built for the purpose of being filled with your kids that drove you, and even worse, Javi, absolutely crazy. In the past few weeks, the house had taken shape enough to finally have rooms that actually looked like rooms, Javi making it a point every time the two of you went over to check on progress, to point out just how good the spare bedrooms looked, like he was the most proud of those 4 extra rooms more than any other space in the house.

The irrational part of you would have given him a baby yesterday, but the rational part of you knew you wanted to be married and have every last inch of that house finished before you brought a baby there. But every time Javi saw those bedrooms, looking at you with that big, goofy grin on his face for his children that didn’t even exist yet, oh god, did it make you want to say fuck it to every ounce of rationality you had left.

“I think you have baby fever worse than I do, Jav. And that’s saying something.” You teased, reaching up to scrunch his cheeks. With another little giggle and content sigh, you pushed yourself up out of your chair, coming around the back of it to get the slightest running start to jump on him, full koala style, wrapping your arms and legs around his broad back, making the two of you burst out in laughter as he spun you around while you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, covering him with little kisses. “I love you so much. You’re gonna be such a good dad, you know that?”

“I love you too, Osita. I hope I am. I want to be.” Javi sighed, a hopeful half smile pursed between his lips, causing you to cup both your hands around his face, forcing him to look at you.

“You will be. I promise.” Tilting your head in, you pressed a soft, tender kiss onto his lips, lingering just a little longer than normal for your added reassurance. “Alright, I gotta get down now though, we have dishes we have to put away, and I have to shower tonight since I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning before school and I don’t wanna have to get up earlier than I need to.”

“Un beso más (One more kiss).” Javi smiled, gripping a little tighter on your thighs wrapped around his legs, refusing to let go until you fulfilled his request.

“Solamente un beso más? Por qué no dos? Tres? (Only one more? Why not 2? 3?)” You giggled, one of your hands running through the thick curls of his hair, while the other traced soft circles along his jawline.

“Me gustaría darte todos los besos, Osita. Te daría cualquier cosa. (I’d give you all the kisses, Osita. I’d give you anything.)” Leaning in, your mouths met again in a soft and sweet moment, a kiss that felt like he meant it- He would give you the world if you asked for it, and then some.

“God, I could kiss you forever. Alright, Romeo, put me down, we got things to do, and if you don’t, I know for a fact none of those things are getting done.”

“Fine.” He sighed overdramatically, letting your legs fall to the floor as he released his grasp. “I’ll clean up dinner and you can go take a shower.”

“I can help with cleaning up, Jav. You made dinner, the least I can do is-”

“Go get your ass in the shower. I’ll clean it up.” He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of your head before gesturing towards the bathroom, making you cross your arms over your chest with an unseriously stern look on your face.

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell? Rude. Sure you’re not the one who needs to shower after your foot got covered in piss?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying your best not to laugh.

“Go shower, you dork.” Javi chuckled, giving your ass a playful slap as you parted ways, sticking your tongue out at him as you disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom.

After a long, and even hotter shower than usual (considering you didn’t have to account for Javi’s temperature complaints), you wrapped yourself up in your towel and headed back to your room, where you found Javi laying in bed, reading one of the books you had been teasing him about for the past few weeks as it sat on his nightstand, unopened, even though he insisted he really was going to read it soon. As if the fact that him finally opening up and reading the book wasn’t enough to taunt him about, the way his face scrunched as he squinted at the pages certainly was.

“You doin’ alright over there, Grandpa? Jav, you just have to give in and get glasses, you know you can’t see anything, stop trying to fight it.” You giggled, your appearance in the bedroom catching Javi’s attention, making him rest his open book over his stomach.

“I don’t need glasses. I can see just fine. I’d look stupid in them, anyways.” He grumbled, refusing to admit that you were right even though he knew just as well as you that his eyesight was definitely not what it once was. He let out another sigh, dogearring the page of his book and setting it on his nightstand, his grumpy demeanor quickly shifting as you gave him that playful smirk you always did when you wanted to rub something in to prove your point. You let out another laugh as Javi rolled his eyes at you, shifting himself on the bed to lay on his side, face resting in his palm with those sweet puppy dog eyes that never left your sight any time he watched you get ready, even if all it meant was putting on one of his oversized shirts and sleep shorts to go to sleep in.

“Yeah, okay.” You replied, your voice oozing with sarcasm. “And you wouldn’t look stupid in glasses, you look hot in anything, and I’m sure you would look extra hot with 20/20 vision.”

“Pendejo…”

“You love me.”

The two of you laughed as you shuffled through the drawers of your dresser, pulling out one of Javi’s t shirts to wear to bed along with a pair of underwear and cotton shorts, piling the clothes next to you as you unwrapped your towel drying yourself off once more before letting it drop to the floor so you could change. You could see Javi’s reflection staring back at you, more specifically, your ass in the mirror, an awestruck and lustful look growing in his eyes as you reached over to pick up your shirt.

“I can literally feel your eyes burning a hole through my ass, Jav.” You sassed, smirking back at him through the mirror as you watched him bite down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love your ass so much, you know that?” Javi rasped, his tongue gently darting between his lips, eyes still locked on your behind.

“Yes, Javi, you are very adamant about letting me know how much you love it.” You snickered, slipping his shirt over your head, followed pair your pair of underwear, opting to completely forgo your shorts to play into his comment. You crawled up into bed next to him, nudging him over so his back laid on the mattress and you laid on top of him, pressing a soft, slow kiss against his lips as his hands roamed down your back, sneaking under the hem of your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your ass, letting out a low groan as your mouths met.

“Because it’s fucking perfect.” He hummed, gripping his fingertips even deeper into your skin after sliding them under the thin, cotton fabric covering it.

“Wow, someone’s in a mood about my butt tonight. Didn’t know your giant t-shirt and my plain ass underwear was really doin’ it for ya.” You joked, a little grin spread across your face as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair before sliding them down his face to cup his jaw. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the look on Javi’s face had quickly turned from one of lust to deep thought, his brow scrunched and nostrils flared, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately noticing the shift in his demeanor. “You only get that look when you’re really thinking hard about something, or you have to fart and you’re trying to hold it in, and I’m really hoping it’s not the second one.”

Your comment was enough to snap him out of his own thoughts, making him shake his head as the two of you laughed, Javi still holding back slightly as his eyes shifted down towards the mattress, practically hearing the gears in his brain turning, when all of a sudden, it clicked with you.

Oh shit.

The combination of his stare down and silence told you everything you needed to know.

You tilted his chin back up towards your face, a curious smirk stretched between your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You wanna fuck my ass, don’t you?”

Your voice was sweet and sultry, immediately making Javi’s face go blank in shock that you had connected the dots before he had even said anything. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest almost as loudly as Javi’s, a nervous swarm of butterflies filling your stomach as you waited for him to respond.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. There had been plenty of times that Javi had put a thumb or fingers in your ass when he fucked you from behind, and holy shit, did it feel good whenever he did it. You’d honestly debated bringing it up before, but there was a part of you that could never bring yourself to do it because you never had, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous about it.

It wasn’t that you didn't trust Javi- You’d trust him with your whole life without a second thought. There had never been a time since the moment you first had sex that your comfort wasn’t always his first priority. But with how full Javi felt inside you with just a thumb or a finger, couldn’t help but make you feel a little worried with how big he’d feel with his whole dick inside your ass.

You also couldn’t help but feel a preemptive guilt if it ended up being too much and you had to ask him to stop, not that he would ever make you feel bad about it, but still, you couldn’t help but play out worse case scenarios in your head. But something about that look in his face as he stared you down in the mirror and head turning deep in thought was enough to spark that little flame of confidence you had brewing and beat him to the punch.

“Hermosa…” He paused, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing as he gulped, taking an anxious deep breath. “Baby, I-”

“Do you?”

The tightened grip of his fingers in your ass, gentle nod of his head and the low groan releasing from his chest was all you needed to know to figure out the answer to your question without even needing Javi to say a single word. His free hand mirrored yours, cupping your cheek as the two of you locked hungry gazes with each other, Javi now finally working up enough confidence to respond.

“I want to so fucking bad.” Javi rasped, his dark brown eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need for reassurance. “But if you don’t want to, I don’t ever want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with. I promise, I won’t be upset about it at all.” The confident facade you had been fronting quickly began to crumble, your body flooding with a combination of nerves and excitement.

“I do, I just- I- I’ve never done it before.” You weren’t sure how your voice had gotten so small and meek- maybe it was the reality of what you were about to do setting in at a rapid pace. Something about the sweet, soft innocence of your voice already had Javi hard as a rock, using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure, considering how even just the thought of even getting to put his dick in your ass already had him on edge.

“That’s okay. Like I said, it’s only if you want to, baby. We can take it slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop, no questions asked.”

You could feel your head beginning to gently nod in agreement as Javi’s thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, a little smirk forming between your cheeks while your heart raced at a million miles per hour, almost feeling as worked up and nervous as the very first time the two of you had sex all that time ago.

“I want to.” You whispered, letting your lips meet his in a tender and ferocious passion, muted moans escaping from each of your parted mouths.

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to say yes just because I want to.” And fuck, could you feel how badly he wanted to, his fully hard dick straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, heavy against your thigh. You were no better despite your nerves, the cotton fabric of your underwear absolutely drenched already without Javi even touching you.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

A low groan rumbled deep in Javi’s chest as your mouths met again, Javi flipping you over so your back was flat against the mattress, letting his hands roam along your body while his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. Gonna take my time with you, okay? I promise I’ll make sure you’re ready.”

“Well I appreciate you just not going straight to shoving your dick into my ass, very gentlemanly of you.” You joked, trying to calm your nerves with your sarcastic wit, Javi practically snorting at your comment.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi whispered to himself through his laughter, resting his head on your chest as he looked up at you in amusement.

“Sorry, I’ll stop and let you get back to business.” Javi lay frozen, still staring up at you with his head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised.

“Osita, you know I love you very much, right?”

“Yes.”

“And that since we’ve been together, I’ve learned a lot of things about you?

“Also yes.”

“So you know I can tell when you’re nervous about something, right?”

You let out a defeated sigh, crossing your arms in stubborn defiance, not wanting to admit that you knew Javi’s suspicions were correct. You waited a moment, and with a little frown pursed between your lips, you finally gave in.

“...Yeah.”

Javi rolled over next to you, draping one arm over your waist, the other holding his chin in his hand with his elbow propped up against the mattress, his tender gaze locking with yours, filling you with a sense of calm and reassurance you were convinced nothing else in the world could. “Osita, talk to me baby. What are you nervous about?”

You flapped your arms up before planting them over your face, burying your head in your hands in embarrassment, your words muffled from underneath your palms. “What am I nervous about? Not to stroke your ego any more than it needs to be, but you have a huge dick, Jav. I’m also guessing this isn’t your first time, and it is for me, and you being the first giant dick to ever enter my ass has me a little nervous.” You rambled, your thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than your brain could process them. “I really want to, I just don’t want it to not be good for you or for you to be upset if we stop or- I don’t know. I don’t want you to be mad about it if I’m the reason for- I- I’m probably overthinking it, I’m sorry.” You let out another deep exhale, averting your gaze from Javi’s staring down at the bed.

This time, it was Javi’s turn to connect the dots, taking a moment to wonder why you were so worried about making him upset before putting the pieces together, his prediction making him clench his jaw in frustration. “Paul wanted to do it and you said no and he was a fucking asshole to you about it, wasn’t he?”

Your head instantly shot up, swiveling around towards Javi’s agitated grimace, your face almost as shocked as Javi’s was when you had asked him if he had wanted to do this in the first place. “How… Javi, how did you-”

“That motherfucker… he didn’t hurt you did he? I swear to God if he did, I’ll fucking fly up to Chicago right now and I’ll-”

“Jav, Jav, cool your jets, killer.” You laughed softly, pressing your hand to his cheek to try and ground him before he really was on the next flight to Illinois. “No, he never did anything. He said that he wanted to and it kinda came out of the blue- I didn’t really want to at the time, especially not with him. He kept asking and asking and I would tell him no and he got so mad about it. Turns out that was around the time he started cheating on me anyways, and became an even bigger dickhead than he already was. But I always felt so guilty, and that it was my fault he was upset because I didn’t want to. I don’t know- I- I guess maybe this has stuck with me way more than it probably should have.” You could feel your voice shrinking, your eyes darting away once again, mortified by the fact that you completely ruined the moment by bringing up your shitty ex and his blatant lack of respect. “Sorry, I don’t know why we’re talking about this I-“

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Javi’s lips were on yours, swallowing the rest of your words as your mouths met with a passionate intensity, letting his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer, caging his chest against yours. “Hermosa, you know I would never be mad at you about something like that, right? I love you, Osita, you have nothing to apologize for. All I ever want is to make you feel good, baby. Fuck, that gets me off more than anything else. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“I trust you, Javi.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, lips grazing over his, giving him a gentle nod of reassurance. “I want you to.”

You could audibly hear the gulp Javi had let out, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he let out a low groan, tightening the grip he had around your waist. “Want me to what, sweet girl? I wanna hear you say it, baby.” His lips began to travel down your jawline towards your neck, hot and wet presses languidly making their way to your collarbone as he tugged at the end of your shirt, snaking his hands up the soft skin of your stomach. You could feel the heat building in your core, letting out a soft moan as his hands palmed at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between the tips of his fingers.

“I want you to fuck my ass, Javi.”

With that, his hands were shuffling your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed before letting his kisses make their way down your newly exposed skin, letting his tongue flick along each nipple before letting his gaze lock with yours, a small smirk spreading across his face. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Hermosa. Gonna take good care of you, baby, I swear.”

“I know.” You nodded, staring back at the hunger pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, practically squirming in the sheets of your bed from the throbbing between your legs, feeling the slick almost dripping down your thighs from just how turned on you were. The grin on Javi’s face had become devilish, biting down on his bottom lip as he snaked his hand down your front, tugging at the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs before running a finger through your slit, already drenching him with your arousal.

“Turn around, baby. Hands and knees, okay?” You could hear the subtle smugness in his tone, giving you a playful squeeze as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over face down on the mattress, making you squeal. You did Javi one better, laying your chest flat against the sheets, lifting your ass up in the air and giving it a little shake, Javi’s hands instantly kneading at the soft flesh in front of him, digging his fingertips deeper into your skin, feeling his hot breath hovering over your cunt.

Suddenly, you felt a long, wide strip of his tongue through your folds, pressing hard and intensely along your clit before diving in like a man starved, lapping you up as he began to eat you out from behind. Each stroke of his tongue was more persistent than the last, the grip of his hands on your hips pulling your heat closer to his face as he licked and sucked at your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of your slick and his saliva coating your inner thighs. His feverish pace already had you fisting at the bedsheets, whimpering and moaning as his mouth worked along your dripping core, making you gasp even further when you felt his tongue begin to travel up towards your tight ring of muscle.

“Oh holy fuck- Javi, oh my god, baby. Fuck me, oh shit.” You whimpered as Javi’s tongue swirled along your puckered hole, dancing around the edges before dipping inside, the sensation making you shudder in pleasure, feeling Javi’s low hum of approval deep in the back of his throat. If that wasn’t enough, one of the hands that had a tight grip on your ass was now collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, his fingers tracing through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit, the added stimulation immediately making the tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. As he worked at your hole, the pads of his fingers circling your sensitive bundle of nerves you could feel your breath becoming ragged, letting out a few more shaky exhales before your orgasm crashed through you, crying out into the soft fabric of the sheets, pleasure and euphoria flooding your body.

As you came down from your high, Javi let his hands slide gently up and down your sides, pressing soft kisses along your back until he had made his way up your shoulder blades and neck, whispering tenderly into your ear. “Such a good girl for me, Osita. Came so hard letting me eat out that pretty little ass of yours. You want me to keep going?”

“Fuck yes, oh my god Javi, please.” You whimpered, shaking your head frantically as you looked back at Javi, already sitting back on his knees to lift his shirt over his head before sitting up to kick off his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free, precum glistening and weeping from his tip, considering how painfully hard he had been since even the thought of getting to fuck your ass.

You could feel his body hovering over yours, hands sliding up and down your sides before grabbing at your ass again, placing tender kisses on each cheek before leaning over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, pulling out the bottle of lube and setting it next to him. His hands roamed to your core once again, two fingers dipping into your cunt, curling to hit the soft, spongy spot inside you that already had you moaning again.

It wasn’t long until his fingers were substituted for his cock, running his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal along his length before slowly pushing inside your pussy, already so wet and worked up, that even with sweet sting of his stretch, he still slid in with ease, setting a steady, even pace as one hand dug into your hip, the other reaching over to grab the bottle of lube, popping open the cap with a click and letting the cool liquid drip over your tight hole, making you gasp. You could feel the pads of his fingers pressing at the entrance to your ass, gently teasing you open with one finger, breeching up to his knuckle, the combination of both his finger and cock inside you making you whimper in pleasure.

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck, you’re already so fucking tight around my finger. You want another one in there, baby?” Javi mewled, prodding his finger deeper into your hole as he continued to thrust into you, his strokes slow and steady, but still punching deep into your g-spot with each thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs.

“Yes- oh fuck- yes, oh my god.” You weren’t really quite sure how your brain was still even managing to form words at this point, the warm feeling that had been growing inside you spreading to every inch of your body. The pad of Javi’s second finger teased at your tight hole, collecting ample amounts of you slick and lube before pushing in to join the first, the thickness of both of his fingers making you clench even tighter around his cock and digits as you cried out in delight.

“Shhhhhh, I know, sweet girl. Relájate (relax) baby, I’ve got you.”

You could already feel your second orgasm starting to build again, heat beginning to bloom in your belly from the rhythmic pounding of Javi’s dick punching against your g-spot and his fingers prodding at the nerve endings of your ring of muscle, already feeling so full from the stretch of both holes.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh fuck- Javi, I’m gonna cum again, fuckahhhhhhh-” You cried out, letting your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, clenching down around Javi’s cock and fingers as you grabbed at handfuls of your bedsheets, trying to ground yourself as the intensity of your pleasure ripped through you.

“There you go, Hermosa. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Did so good for me.” He cooed, gently pulling out both his cock and fingers, the emptiness making you shutter as Javi pressed tender, soft kisses down your back before making his way up your neck and nipping at your ear. “You think you’re ready for me, Osita? If not, it’s okay, I only wanna do what you want, mi amor (my love).”

You took another few ragged breaths to compose yourself, unsure how your brain was even managing to function at this point as you came down from your high, trembling in delight. You nodded before you could speak, Javi letting out a low groan as he sucked at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy against your skin.

“Need to hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

“Fuck my ass, Javi. I want you to fuck my ass, please baby.” You whined, whimpering your words against the soft fabric of your sheets, desperate for more, needing to feel all of him inside you in a way you hadn’t before.

Javi let out an audible groan as he pulled back, letting his hands roam up your body and back to the lube resting on the bed, once again, popping open the cap and squirting some of the liquid into his palm as he fisted his dick, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your tight hole. “You promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop?”

You shook your head rapidly, fingers already gripping into the pillow in front of you as you braced yourself for Javi to enter, feeling his tip press against your tight ring of muscle. Suddenly, you could feel the sensation of Javi breeching your entrance, making you gasp at just how full you already felt as he had barely made his way inside you. Javi pushed further in, leaving you practically breathless from the stinging stretch of his cock filling you as he paused halfway, leaning over to check on you.

“Oh fuck me- You okay, sweet girl?”

“Mhhmmmmmm. Fuck Javi, you feel so big. Holy shit, baby. Oh fuck.” You gulped, squeezing around Javi’s length as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you, your clit and cunt throbbing as he filled you, the newfound sensation making you see stars. You were so focused on how you were feeling, you had barely noticed how tightly Javis fingertips were gripping into the soft flesh of your ass, like he was bracing himself for dear life as he sunk further and further into your tight hole.

While Javi had found himself in this position with other women a handful of times before, he had never come close to feeling the same way about anyone the way he did about you- He had been dreaming about the day that you agreed to let him fuck your ass, and now finding himself inside you, knowing he would be the first and the last to ever have you like he was right now, had him on the brink of busting any second if he wasn’t careful. Javi had never been more thankful that you couldn’t see his face, because he knew he looked absolutely wrecked and was struggling to keep the ounce of composure he had left as you gripped around his cock like a vice.

“Javi, oh shit- Javi, you can move baby.” You moaned, adjusting to his fullness, the initial pain quickly transforming to burning hot pleasure as you gave Javi the green light to keep going. After a few seconds, when Javi had said nothing and hadn’t moved at all, you spoke again, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you. “Javi, I’m good, you can-”

“I know, I know, fuck- sorry, baby. Jesus Christ- you’re so fucking tight, Hermosa, fuck me. Give me a second or I’m gonna fuckin’ bust right now.” Javi replied, halfway between a whimper and a moan as he firmly grasped your hips, carefully setting a slow pace as he began to thrust in and out of your ring of muscle, shocked to feel how quickly heat was beginning to bloom in your belly once again, his length languidly sliding in and out of your asshole, filling you and striking new nerve endings you had never felt before making you quickly begin to come undone.

Your legs began to tremble, grasping at the mattress to brace yourself as you felt your clit throb and cunt clench as the coil in your belly tightened further and further, the lewd noises of your moans and grunts filling the room.

“Javi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, baby I’m so close again, holy fuck.” You cried out, as even just the slightest pick up of Javi’s pace had you reeling closer and closer to the edge of your release. Javi freed one of his hands, snaking it between your legs to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, already swollen and pulsing from your first two orgasms, and now even more responsive as the pads of his fingers circled against it.

Javi wanted desperately to hold out for you and make you cum as many times as you wanted to just like this, but he knew damn well the moment you came and clamped down even harder around his cock than you already were, he was a fucking goner and going right along with you. He needed to give you one more before he also came embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck Osita, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer either, baby. Need you- oh shit- need you to give me one more, pretty girl. Cum for me, Hermosa, I’ve got you.”

With only a few more strokes and circles around your clit, you were cumming so hard, you were honestly convinced you had blacked out. Your whole body shook as you wailed in delight, squeezing around Javi’s dick so hard it was only seconds before he was following suit, letting a ragged groan escape through his gritted teeth as you milked him of every last drop, Javi bracing himself for dear life with the grasp he had around your hips as he finished.

Javi slumped over you, the two of you breathing so heavily it sounded more like you had just finished a triathlon more than anything else. He let out a deep hiss as he pulled out, taking a moment to admire his work as he watched his spend drip out your tight hole as your body collapsed onto the mattress.

You weren’t sure how long you had been laying there before you were finally able to wrangle the brain power to speak again, and even then, the only words that you were able to manage were a quiet “holy fucking shit…”

Javi flopped down, laying on his back next to you as you rolled over, both of your faces bright and blissed as you stared at one another, almost unsure of what to say.

“Are you okay?” Javi asked, gently cupping your flushed cheek in his palm.

“Am I okay? Javi… Holy fuck. I don’t think I have ever cum so hard in my entire life. I honestly thought I blacked out there for a second. Baby… That was, fuck, that was insane.” You half laughed to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking great. Holy shit. Sorry I couldn’t last longer, I didn’t think I was gonna go that fast but you felt so fucking good. Thank you, Osita.”

“Thank you? For what?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful poke on the chest as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“For this. For trusting me.”

“Javier Jesús Peña…” You smirked, propping yourself up on your arm to get a better look at him, “I trust you with my life. More than anyone I’ve ever met. I should be the one thanking you for so graciously taking my butt virginity. Wouldn’t want anyone else in there besides you.”

The two of you burst into laughter, Javi practically letting out a snort as he rolled his eyes at your ridiculous comment. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous. I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Javi. C’mon, let's go shower before your cum sits in my asshole any longer and I get pregnant with your butt baby.” You snickered as you rolled off the bed, making your way to the bathroom.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Butt baby? Seriously?” He snorted, following behind you, giving you a playful smack on your ass, scooping you up to hike you over his shoulder and fireman carry you to the shower, making you squeal. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Weirdo you love enough to put your dick in my ass and make your wife, so that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled as Javi set you down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, giving him a little shrug before reaching into the shower to turn on the water.

“And what a fucking lucky man I am.”

Ever since starting his job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department, Javi had been able to count on a few things every morning when he got into work. Sheryl at the front desk would greet him with a half hearted “Good morning, Javier” , the smell of shitty work coffee would be brewing in the break room, and Agent Carter and Miller already arguing about something stupid at their desks instead of working on anything that actually needed to get done. That’s why when Javi made his way into work on Monday morning and was not greeted by any of those things, he knew his day was getting thrown for a loop- he just wasn’t quite sure how yet.

“It was their idea, not mine, believe me.” Sheryl grumbled, rolling her eyes as she nodded towards the path to Javi’s office, holding her hands up in defense as if to prove she had nothing to do with whatever was going on beyond her desk. Javi paused, tilting his head and scrunching his brow in confusion at Sheryl before letting out a sigh, and hesitantly making his way back to find out what in the world she was talking about.

He was surprised by the lack of Miller and Carter’s presence in their desk chairs, and the unusual silence filling the office as Javi turned his head, wondering where everyone was. He peered over the cubicles, looking for any sign of life, until a strange sound caught his attention from behind the door of his office.

Woof, woof, woof!

Javi shook his head, convinced he must be hearing things until the low bark repeated, followed by a hush of anxious voices whispering around the corner.

“Oh no, shhhhhh! Shit, I didn’t think he was gonna bark.”

“Well it’s a fucking dog, Carter, what the hell did you think it was gonna, do, meow?”

“Maybe he didn’t hear it.”

“I highly doubt that, dumbass. God, he’s gonna be fucking pissed.”

“Your idea, not mine.”

Even though he couldn’t see them, Miller and Carter’s worried whispers were enough to let Javi know he wasn’t imagining the barking coming from behind his office door. Letting out a deep sigh, which sounded a lot more like a groan, Javi carefully twisted open the doorknob to his workspace, only to be greeted by a large, shaggy and very dirty Golden Retriever staring back at him with big brown eyes, happily wagging its tail and shaking excitedly at Javi’s presence. Although Javi had heard the bark from behind his door, it didn’t stop him from doing a double take from the dog now residing in his office, running his hand over his face in a confused frustration as to how and why Miller and Carter had already managed to make his Monday morning a pain in his ass.

“Why the fuck is there a dog in my office?” Javi half shouted, making Carter and Miller sheepishly appear from around the corner with guilty looks on their faces, avoiding eye contact with Javi as he glared through the two of them, wondering how the hell they were going to try and talk themselves out of this one.

“Hey Peña, uh, I uh… Listen Miller was the one who brought him in, and he was so cute that I wasn’t not gonna do anything about it and-”

“Oh, way to throw me under the fucking bus, Carter!” Agent Miller huffed, cutting Carter off in attempts to let the blame completely fall on him. “You agreed we should keep him here so that we could-”

“Okay, that still doesn’t explain why the fuck there’s a dog in my office.” Javi groaned, cutting off Carter and Miller before they found themselves in a pointless arguing match about how and why there was now a dog happily leaning itself against Javi’s leg, his tail shaking back and forth, completely enamored by Javi.

It was taking everything in Javi not to reach down and pet him to try and prove a point to Carter and Miller that they had astronomically fucked up the rest of his plans for the morning, but the dog was sure as hell adorable and sweet as could be.

“Okay, well, I was driving into work this morning, and as I was making my way down that back road past the cattle ranch a few blocks down from here, this guy ran out in the road. Thank God I saw him when I did. I stopped, got out, and he came right up to me, but there was obviously no one with him. He looked relieved that he’d found me. Poor guy is dirty and skinny as hell. He hopped right into my car and ate the rest of my McGriddle which I was kinda pissed about, but I can’t blame ‘em.” Miller sighed, now crouching down to give the dog some scratches on the head before continuing on with his story. “So I went to some of the houses on the street and no one had ever seen this dog before. I called Webb County Animal Control to see if anyone had reported a missing dog that looked like him, but no one had. I asked if I should take him to the shelter to see if anyone would come for him, but the lady on the phone said if no one’s reported him missing, they probably wouldn’t come for them.”

“Well tell him what else, Miller.” Carter encouraged, trying to aid in Miller’s defense as he rose back up, standing next to his partner.

“When I called the animal shelter to ask them what to do, the woman I talked to said the shelter is so full, that if we brought him in and no one claimed him within the next two weeks, that they’d…” Miller trailed off, him and Carter both grimacing, unable to finish the rest of his sentence as he looked down at the gleeful, furry face staring back up at him. “Well, let’s just say that things weren’t gonna look so good for him. I couldn’t bring myself to drop him off, and I wasn’t just gonna fucking leave him, so, I uh- I brought him here.”

Javi let out a deep sigh, burying his hands in his face for a moment before rubbing his temples, understanding why Miller had done what he did, but nonetheless, still frustrated that now he had become wrapped up in solving a missing dog case.

“So what? Are you gonna keep him?” Javi questioned, finally giving in to bend down and give the dog a few pats on his side, feeling just how skinny and boney he was as his hand met his belly.

“Oh no, I can’t keep him. Apartment doesn’t allow dogs. I would if I could.” Miller admitted, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, feeling guilty for his lack of helpful response.

“What about you? You keeping the dog?” Javi asked, looking over at Carter, giving him a little shrug, hoping he was the solution to his temporary canine problem.

“Um, no. Sorry. I’m allergic. He’s cute as hell but my eyes have been itching ever since he got here.”

“So what, he’s just gonna live here? C’mon you guys, really?” Javi grumbled, now crouching down next to the dog, getting a better look at his begging eyes and goofy grin under his panting tongue, giving Javi a few licks on the face in excitement as his tail began to wag rapidly from Javi’s closeness.

Javi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as the dog lapped against his face, wrapping his hands around the dog’s head and giving it a playful rub to get the dog to stop before staring back at the sweet, sad eyes staring back at him. He scratched under the dog’s chin before it was snuggling up next to him, comfortably plopping himself down over Javi’s feet and letting out a content little grumble as his tail continued to thump against the floor in joy.

Javi closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. A deep sigh. Not because he didn’t like this dog. Hell, not even because he was really that mad at the two office idiots for bringing the dog here this morning. Javi let out a long, exasperated sigh, because he could feel the willpower he had preached to you about holding out on a dog until the new house- a conversation he had just had with you last night- was absolutely crumbling.

He couldn’t come home with a dog, right? He had just spent all of last night convincing you that the apartment wouldn’t be a good place for a dog. But… that was for a puppy. This was a full grown dog. A calm one, at that. A fucking cute one at that. God, it had been 5 minutes and this dog was already attached at the hip to him, and it was probably fair to say that Javi had gotten just as attached, if not more. Carter and Miller were right, with the shape the dog was in, it really did look like no one had been taking care of him, or had any plans to come and find him, and Javi couldn’t bear the thought of sending the dog off to the shelter, knowing his inevitable fate.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, do you know anything else about him? Are you sure that there’s no one looking for him?” Javi grunted as he pushed himself back up to stand, trying to keep his cool as he looked over at Carter and Miller, their eyes still peeled to the ground in hopes the lack of direct eye contact would lessen their chances of a complete reaming from Javi.

“No, boss. Only other thing we could find about him was the little tag on his collar, which wasn’t helpful at all, because it only had his name.” Carter shrugged, peeking up at Javi, surprised by the even keel of his tone. Javi bent back down, the dog immediately rolling over on his back and exposing his belly for Javi to pet as he reached towards the dog’s neck, gently tugging at the tethered collar under his tangled fur to read the poorly engraved tag attached, letting out an even bigger sigh and shaking his head in disbelief at the name.

Bear.

Of fucking course. As if the universe needed to send him another sign. Of fucking course the dog’s name was the same as his nickname for you, Osita- little bear.

Javi couldn’t help but laugh to himself, running his hand over his face once again. “Shit. You sure no one’s looking for him?”

Both Carter and Miller shook their heads, crossing their arms over their chests in sad disappointment at Bear, laying sprawled across Javi’s feet. Letting out one last reluctant exhale, Javi looked back at the pair, nervously awaiting his response before he spoke.

“If… If no one calls looking for him by the end of the day… I’ll take him home with me.”

Carter and Miller’s faces lit up in shock and delight, staring at Javi, dumbfounded by what they had just heard. “I mean… Fuck, well… that was way easier than I thought it was gonna be.” Miller half grumbled to himself, glancing over at Carter, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I obviously don’t have any dog shit at home so I’m gonna have to leave early today to get some, so you two idiots are gonna have to finish up the rest of the paperwork I needed to do this afternoon, we clear?”

“Yeah, yup- Absolutely. Will do.” The two nodded in agreement, still in shock that the worst they had gotten from their boss from dropping a stray dog off in his office was the rest of his paperwork for the day.

“Fuck me. Alright, c’mon Bear.” Javi sighed, pushing open his office door, Bear, happily trotting along behind him, tail wagging in delight as Carter and Miller stared back at each other, frozen in shock that they, with very little convincing, had gotten their boss to happily take their furry problem into his own hands.

If the fact that Bear wasn’t cute as can be was enough to win over Javi, he was also the sweetest, most relaxed dog he’d had ever met. Bear was perfectly content to lay down next to Javi’s desk, letting out content grumbles and sighs as he slept and Javi worked, sprawled out across the floor. Bear also seemed to love everyone he met, joyfully making his rounds around the station with Javi after a failed attempt at leaving him behind in his office, immediately caving to Bear’s sad, lonely whines and big brown eyes from behind the glass of his office window. Around 2:00 PM, after Javi had given Bear the better half of his turkey sandwich for lunch, he found himself just as hungry as that poor dog probably was this morning, deciding to cut his day short to get himself some food, and gather whatever else he needed before bringing Bear back to the apartment.

Javi thanked whatever higher power that the woman working at the pet store this afternoon was not the same woman he had adamantly convinced last night that he was not coming with a dog, because in the back seat of his truck, sat a dog he was now bringing home. The woman working at the store had helped Javi to find everything he needed for Bear and probably then some, Javi more than thankful for her patience and advice, feeling overwhelmed by what to get for a dog that had landed in his care only a few short hours ago.

After 2 trips up your apartment stairs to drop off the bed, food, treats and toys Javi had gotten, he made one final trip back for Bear, who had glady hopped out of the truck and followed Javi back to your place after a quick pee on the bush in the parking lot, leaving Javi very thankful the dog had found a spot to relieve himself that wasn’t on his shoe.

“Well, welcome home, I guess.” Javi chuckled as Bear busted through the apartment door, tail wagging at a propeller like speed as he meandered through the space, sniffing and exploring around the kitchen and living room, before wandering back to the bags from the pet store Javi had set on the ground, giving them a little prod with his snout before sitting next to them, looking up at Javi as if to ask if he could have the food and treats that were inside. “Well… I guess a little more food couldn’t hurt, right?”

There were very few times where Javi was home from work before you, and when he did, he normally told you before he left, or called you at work to let you know- so when you pulled into the parking lot to see Javi’s truck next to your empty parking space, it was safe to say you were a bit perplexed. You quickly unpacked your bags from your car, making your way up to the apartment, trying to rationalize with your confusion and nerves as to why Javi had beaten you home. As you unlocked your door, you gently pushed it open, now even more confused by the muffled grunts and swearing coming from down the hallway. Dropping your things at the entryway, you quickly began working your way through the apartment to figure out what was going on before you almost tripped and fell over a large dog bed now in the middle of your living room.

“What the hell…” You murmured to yourself, your brow scrunching in bewilderment as you caught your step over the soft, plushy surface, doing a double take to realize that what had almost taken you to the ground was a dog bed. Looking over, you then noticed the several bags from the local pet store, now even more puzzled as your attention shifted back to the end of the hallway, hearing Javi’s voice as well as the sound of running water and frantic splashing.

“Goddamnit, will you just stay still please? We’re almost done, bud.”

Almost sprinting to the bathroom, you pushed open the door to find a pile of towels spread across the floor, Javi kneeling over the side of the tub, shirt absolutely soaked as he held the shower handle towards a goofy, wet, golden retriever dancing around in the other end of the tub as he saw you.

“Uhhhhhh, Javi… Why is there a dog in our bathtub?” You stood stunned in the doorway, your presence startling Javi as he spun around, dropping the shower handle, making it spray over the walls, leading the dog to playfully bark and shake as it hopped over the ledge of the tub to greet you.

“No, Bear! Come back here! Fuck. I uh- I can explain, I-” Javi stammered, scrambling to grab the flailing shower head before reaching for the dog to try and wrangle him back into the shower, the rest of his thought cut off by Bear taking one more step towards you before bracing himself for a giant shake, absolutely drenching you as you burst into laughter, wiping your now soaking face with the palms of your hands before reaching down to pet the cheerful dog, wagging his wet tail as he leaned up against your leg.

You couldn’t help but let the smuggest grin spread across your face, now putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Bear, huh? You come up with that one?” You giggled, crouching down to greet who you now were presuming to be the newest resident of your household, rubbing his hands over his drenched, furry body, squealing as he licked all over your face. “I thought we couldn’t have a dog in the apartment, Jav, and I hate to break it to you, this is definitely a dog… very much in our apartment.”

Javi let out a snort, rolling his eyes at you as he reached over to shut off the water, resting his back against the edge of the tub, propping his arms up over the sides as he braced himself to try and explain his current situation to you. “Well…” he grinned sheepishly as Bear paced back and forth between the two of you, his tail swaying side to side as he dripped puddles across the bathroom floor, “I got into work this morning and the first thing I saw was a fucking dog that Carter and Miller had dropped in my office after Miller found him on his drive in.”

“Which I am assuming is this dog?” You laughed, gesturing towards the giddy Golden Retriever jaunting around the bathroom.

“Yeah, this one. Miller said that he found him on a dirt road. Called animal control and no one had been looking for a dog that looked like him, and that when he called the shelter, they were so full, that if someone didn’t either come to get him or adopt him in the next couple weeks, that, well… they probably would have to… Fuck, Cater is allergic and Miller can’t have dogs at his place, and I- he’s so sweet, and I couldn’t just let him go so-”

“So you bought out the better part of the pet store so he could live here with us?” You grinned, raising an eyebrow at Javi as Bear happily sat himself down in his lap, making Javi grunt at the weight of the dog plopping himself down across his legs.

“I mean… I uh… I-” Javi mumbled, sheepishly looking down at Bear before looking back at you, doing your best to contain your laughter and giggles. “What, Hermosa?” Javi phrased it as a question, even though he already knew the answer- You were never going to let him live this down for the rest of his life.

“And you thought you needed to be worried about me bringing a dog home without asking. Does this mean we have a new member of the Peña family?” You smirked, making your way over to Javi and Bear, squatting down on the soaking bathroom floor next to them, pressing a playful peck onto Javi’s cheek as you gave Bear a big scratch.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“You’re lucky he’s cute, and you’re lucky you’re cute, too. Yes, of course it’s okay with me. Welcome to the family, Bear Peña.”

The two of you smiled at each other as you sat on the bathroom floor, a damp and soggy Bear spread across your laps with the happiest and goofiest grin spread over his face, too. While coming home to find Javi wrestling a stray dog in your tub wasn’t exactly how you pictured welcoming the newest member of your family into your lives, in some strange way, it couldn’t have felt more perfect. Getting to grow and share your life together with Javi was all you could ever really ask for, even if that meant a Monday night, soaking wet from a dog bath gone wrong.

“Okay, well, we should probably dry this goofball off and get his stuff all situated. Poor guy is probably exhausted after all of his adventures today, aren’t ya bud? Do you think we should put the dog bed in our room? I don’t want him to get scared during the night, but I’m not really sure if we should have him up on our bed, ya know?”

As you pushed yourself up to stand, you waited for Javi’s response, only to be greeted by double the amount of big, brown puppy dog eyes now staring back at you as you turned around. Javi still said nothing, a guilty look growing across his and the dog’s, as you let out a deep sigh, wondering how in the world you were going to build up your immunity to another sweet face that made you crumble.

“You already let him on the bed, didn’t you, Jav?”

“.... Maybe.”

“Like I said, the two of you are very lucky you’re cute.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse

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linphd · 2 years ago

Note

Hey so I've never sent a request before, but could you do a Bakugou x reader where Mitsuki and Masaru catch them in Katsuki's room? I really enjoyed your oneshot where Kirishima caught them, but you can write NSFW or fluff, it doesn't matter to me, I just love your pieces!

Getting caught cuddling | Headcanons

gender neutral

-> While spending some time cuddling with your boyfriend, someone catches the both of you by surprise.

-> Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari.

Katsuki Bakugou

Sure, it was Mitsuki’s mistake to enter her son’s room like that. But why didn’t he even tell them he had their partner coming over ? You were so lucky being asleep when this happened. « Ahah, you can’t yell at us, or they’ll wake up ! » she giggled at her son, who was fuming with anger.

Katsuki had invited you over for a presentation you had to work on, and you had gladly accepted. « Stop cheering, you won’t meet my parents, they won’t be there. » he had told you. Indeed, as his partner, you had always wanted to finally meet them.

At some point, you ordered a little break as you were going insane -you being super annoying when overworking helped you. As soon as he agreed, you laid on Katsuki, who made tiny explosions to warm you up a bit… which made you fall asleep rather quickly.

He had allowed you to take a little nap, as you had been training a lot nowadays, and here come his parents barging in his room ! « Sorry, we thought you weren’t home. » his father apologized. « Who is that ? Your partner ? » he had asked immediately after his son nod at his apology.

« Shut up ! Don’t wake them up ! It’ll be embarrassing for all of us ! » Too late. You were awake, and he was a liar ; you immediately gasped, happy to finally meet them. And maybe (un)luckily for the blonde, it ended up with you eating dinner at his place and a sleepover.

Shoto Todoroki

It was at the dorms. After a tiring training, you had decided to go to his room instead, so he could cool you down a bit. So tiring actually that you fell asleep without even noticing, and Shoto didn’t have the heart to wake you up. Hence your situation.

It was Denki who had burst in his room, excited to call him for a boys game night. Obviously, he caught everyone’s attention with his super loud gasps and his several « it makes sense ! it makes so much sense ! ». You woke up, and you both replied to your friends’ interrogations.

« How long have you been dating ? », « Hm, only like a few weeks, we were waiting a bit to be sure before telling you guys. », « So that’s why Todoroki caught fire when he saw you at the hot springs ! Because he had a crush on you ! », « … Yes, that’s why, actually. » you barely awake.

Well, it was now official. « So… for the boys night… » Shoto started, but got interrupted by the blonde. « Oh noooooo, no no noooo, stay with your partner man, don’t worry about us ! » he said, before shooing everyone away and leaving the room. « …. I actually wanted to go. » Shoto confessed, making you laugh.

« You can go, you know. » you said. « It was cute, you were overheating a bit at their reaction. » you said, stretching a bit. « Didn’t expect to get caught. » he replied. « Are you coming with me ? » he asked, but you said no. « Still tired from training. » So, Shoto kissed your forehead and let you fall back asleep in his room.

Denki Kaminari

The thing with Denki and you is that you were a somewhat Bakugou person. Yelled a lot, terrifying to your classmates, already intimidating quirk to begin with. So even for you, how you ended up with Denki was a mystery. Well, even he found it surprising, enough to agree not to tell others -at least not yet.

After a long day of training with Aizawa, full of failed attempts at a new skill you were supposed to have learned, you had decided to find some comfort in his room. He was so excited that he forgot to actually lock his room, and only jumped on his bed to cuddle with you.

And here you were, Kirishima and Sero gasping at the sight of the boy laying on top of you, his head against your chest while you played with his hair. He immediately straightened up, gasping as well. « Close the door ! Don’t tell ! No- » he panicked.

He decided to act like he had turned dumb, and you could only laugh at his attempt to save whatever situation you were in. « It’s okay, Denki. I thought you would have accidentally told everyone weeks ago. » you confessed.

The boy only gasped loudly at this statement. « You don’t trust me, (Y/N) ?! » making his friends laugh as well. « But I’m happy you don’t want to hide it anymore. Now I can grab you whenever I want. » he said, wiggling -maybe doing a little dance ? « … Sure, you can do that. » you replied, a bit scared of what he meant by « grab ».

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ssoulphrase · 3 months ago

Text

00. The Curiosity of Haku Shota

Pairing: alien!soul x fem!reader

Genre: Slice of life, fluff

Warnings: mentions of bugs (´-`)

Word Count: 2,159

👾 - I decided to write a small piece as a filler for the actual fic I'm writing with this concept. I realized it was gonna take me longer than I wanted, so l'm writing this to get me motivated T^T I wanted my debut to be the longer fic but oh well :) This can be read as a stand alone as it doesn't add much to the main plot :) The main fic wil be linked once it's finished!

Sorry in advance if there's any mistakes,l wrote this kinda fast ( ´～｀)

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

💿 - Aya Hirano, Super Driver !!

“Y/n! Come on! Wake up! Don’t waste your summer lying around all day! I wanna do stuff!!”

Ugh…

It’s been a couple of months since Soul crashed into your apartment, him first arriving at the time when you were still in classes. He’s become accustomed to your way of life quickly, seamlessly blending into what is human society. However, it's now summer, and he’s been begging every day to do something new, saying that it’s all for his ‘research.’ You laid on your carpeted floor, limbs sprawled out in a starfish shape as the cheap fan you bought at a market once was blasting at full speed, squeaking as it does its turns.

“What is it that you want to do Soul…?” The grogginess in your voice made it evident that you had no intention of getting up at any moment. However, Soul continued on, ignoring your groggy state.

“I want to go on a bike ride! Oh! And have a picnic! And draw with chalk! And maybe go star gazing at night!”

“That’s quite the list you’ve got there…” Although these were pretty mundane things to you, you couldn’t help but entertain Soul and his shenanigans, his excitement lifting a small smile upon your lips.

“I know! I thought about it all last night! It's stuff I've heard humans do during their free time.” A proud grin made itself onto his lips.

“Okay,” you chuckled fondly, “come help me make some sandwiches then.” It was just like Soul to drag you out of your apartment to do something. Just yesterday, the two of you had gone bug catching, Soul having the brilliant idea to make it a contest to see who could catch the most. It was no surprise to see that he had caught more than you by the end of it, boasting about having done his research on the most efficient way humans catch bugs. Of course, you didn’t let him keep any of the bugs he caught as you didn’t want any crawling around in your apartment. He dejectedly let the bugs go, seeing them fly out into the horizon. You couldn’t lie though, the scenery was beautiful (minus the flapping of the bugs…), the sun was starting to set just beyond the horizon and if it wasn’t for Soul, you would have spent this summer alone in your apartment.

“You, know they might return the favor one day, since you were so kind to let them go.” You glanced to your side, Soul was staring at the sunset in awe as all the little bugs he caught flew away.

“Return the favor?” He ripped his eyes from the sight in front of him to look at you in confusion. You couldn’t help but admire how ethereal he looked under the sun’s rays, his sun kissed skin and deep brown eyes reflected the sun’s true colors as the bit of breeze that picked up swept his hair, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“C’mon,” you chuckled, “Let’s go back home.”

Cut back to now, you lazily got up off your carpeted floor, already missing the fan’s cool breeze against your face

“What type of sandwiches are we making??” Soul excitedly followed behind you as you slowly made your way into your cramped kitchen.

“I guess whatever we find in the fridge…” Luckily, you did have the correct ingredients to make sandwiches, having bought the stuff a couple of weeks ago. You spent the next thirty minutes teaching Soul how to make a simple ham and cheese sandwich, not because of his lack of experience but because of your lack of ingredients (which he didn’t seem to mind), his excitement over making sandwiches made the chore a bit more bearable.

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

“C’mon! Hurry up! I wanna get to the park already!”

“I’m coming…” Soul had already reached the end of the steps, waiting beside your baby blue bike that you had gotten for your birthday. He had already placed the basket of food onto the bike’s built in basket, hands on his hips as he waited for you to ascend the stairs.

“You know, we’re gonna have to pass by the store to get the chalk you wanted, cuz I certainly don’t have any…” You finally reached the end of the stairs, Soul’s frown turning into a smile.

“I’ve got that settled already!”

There’s that proud smile again…

“What? How?”

“Your neighbor! I had mentioned it a while ago to her while you were out shopping, and she let me borrow some as long as we bring them back!” Soul boasted, you could only let out a sigh in response.

“So you had this all planned, huh? C’mon, get on the back of the bike.” Soul eagerly made his way on the back of your bike, holding onto your waist for security. The bike ride to the park was surprisingly peaceful. You half expected Soul to ask you about every little thing he saw on the way. Instead, he sat quietly behind you, squeezing you once in a while to hold on when the tighter turns came.

Soul honestly just liked being in your presence. He knew that asking you many questions tired you out, having once realizing that when your tone of voice turned into something less friendly by what seemed like his 500th question that day. Soul once again hugged you tighter, feeling only grateful for all you’ve done for him since he got there, a feeling he doesn’t experience often. Sure, he’s always experienced excitement ever since he arrived on Earth, especially when you comply to his wishes, however, sometimes he feels this inexplicable feeling in his chest whenever he’s close to you, almost as if he’s out of breath. He wonders if you’ve ever felt that before.

He might have to do some research on that later.

“Soul, we’re here.” Your voice broke through his thoughts as he eagerly jumped off your bike as you went to park it. While he was running off to who knows where, you looked for a good place under the shade to set the quilted picnic blanket you brought.

“Y/n! Come! What’s that vehicle over there???” You looked to what seemed to be an ice cream truck, you knew what he was going to ask once you told him, however, a good ice cream cone would be wonderful in this hot weather.

“It’s a truck that sells ice cream. You want some?” You weren’t surprised when he eagerly nodded his head yes, running over to stand behind all the other children who were begging their parents to get them ice cream.

“Do you know what flavor you want?” Once you caught up to him, you looked over the poster plastered onto the side of the truck, skimming through all the flavors they had.

“I’ll try what you have, I’m not particularly interested in any one of them. If I could, I'd try them all…”

Of course you would…

“Hmm, should we try the strawberry then?”

“Sure!”

The two of you had what seemed to be a feast for the both of you as you gobbled up every piece of food you had brought plus the ice cream, Soul seeming to be the one enjoying it the most. After the meal however, Soul ran off to chase some bugs again while you stayed seated in your spot on the blanket under the shade, having had enough of the ‘creepy crawlies’ since your small excursion the day before. Without noticing, an affectionate gaze landed upon your features as you looked over Soul who was carefully examining the grass beneath the (already) dirty sneakers you let him borrow. You couldn’t help but build a sense of endearment towards the alien that appeared in your apartment unannounced. It was only natural, right? You had spent several months together by now, Soul accompanying you through almost everything. You’d feel a little strange if he wasn’t there by your side bugging you about every ‘cool’ thing he saw. You wondered how you’d feel once his research period was over and he’d have to go back home.

“Y/n!”

There he goes calling my name again…

“Yes Soul?”

“Let’s go draw with the chalk!” He was already running off again, expecting you to be able to catch up to his speed. He led you towards the pavement pathway where previous chalk drawings were, some already being washed out due to age.

“What are you planning to draw?” Soul handed you a few chalk pieces before going a few squares away from you.

“It’s a secret!” You playfully rolled your eyes at his childlike nature, his nose scrunched as he turned away to scribble. You drifted your sight to the empty pavement square beneath you, sighing.

Guess I’ve gotta draw something…

Your artistic skills weren’t the best per se, but you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of the cute but childlike drawing made out of the pastel chalk colors Soul had handed you. You were so engaged in your drawing, however, that you didn’t see or hear Soul walking behind you.

“That’s your drawing?” Soul’s soft but snarky voice came from behind you, eliciting another eye roll from you.

“Oh, come on! Show me yours then!” You stomped your way to his square on the pavement, a series of squiggles and lines as well as intricate shapes were drawn with the chalk.

“Uh, what’s that?”

“It’s the writing system we use in space! I was hoping that if I write it big enough, my friends and family up there will be able to see it!” He wore that proud grin once more, showing off his penmanship in his language.

“Oh! What does it say then?” You stepped closer to examine his work, intrigued by the intricate work that went into the writing.

“Um, just letting them know that I’m doing okay,” his right hand went to rub his chin in thought, “I wonder if I wrote it big enough though…”

“I’m sure they’ll see it,” you reassured him, “They’ll be happy to hear that you’re doing well.” You tried giving him a reassuring smile to ease the worry that was present on his face, his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought.

“You really think so? Okay then!” In the blink of an eye, his worrisome expression changed to his usual carefree smile that he carries.

That was fast…

“Y/n! Let’s go draw something together over there!” And once again, Soul was dragging you to another place to draw. You spent the rest of the afternoon drawing on the pavement with Soul, him claiming that this has to be the ‘best drawing to ever exist,’ meaning that he wanted to put in the extra time to perfect it as much as possible. What he wanted to execute though, was a ‘family portrait’ of you and him so that his family and friends in space would be able to see what he was up to. And as always, you obliged to his demands, putting in the extra elbow grease to draw it as he imagined it. As a finishing touch, Soul added the orange, tabby cat that hung out on your balcony at random times, Soul claiming that they’re best friends.

“Perfect! We’re done!” Soul looked over the drawing with pride, the sun had already set and the stars were starting to twinkle brightly.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Oh definitely!” he nodded eagerly “And we finished just in time to go stargazing!” Before you could say anything, Soul grabbed your hand to lead you to the picnic blanket under the tree, this time, a bit more calmer.

“Why’d you wanna stargaze anyway? I thought you lived amongst the stars based on what you’ve told me.” You sat down one last time on the blanket right next to him, Soul immediately laying his head right on your lap, your hand came up to rest on his multicolored hair.

“I wanted to see the stars with you.” The phrase touched you more than you thought it would, the meaning behind his words bringing a certain heavy feeling on your chest almost bringing you to tears.

“I promise I’ll keep in touch with you once my research period on Earth is over. You better keep in touch too!” You couldn’t see it, however you could almost sense that carefree grin he always carries forming on his face.

“Okay, I promise I’ll keep in touch too.”

I wouldn’t want to forget you…

👾 - bleep blorp zeep zorp

#p1harmony #haku shota #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony imagines #soul x reader #p1harmony soul #p1harmony fluff #p1h soul #p1harmony fanfic #kpop writers #kpop fanfic #fic writer

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suh-core · 10 months ago

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𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖞𝖚 001

warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex [be safe!], cumming inside

[17:14] "Babe, why don't we play a game?" Mingyu randomly proposes. "Is this another gma about clinginess you found online?" you chuckle, seeing his lips turning into a line. "Got me" he admits, "you get stuff like that so easily, it's not fair". Both of yours love language is physical touchand you usually wouldn't care about showing it as much as you can and desire. And that would continue as much as you could, even publically, nothing would stop you. So Jeonghan being the menace he is, suggested that you two play those fun games to strengthen your relationship. In all honesty it was hard yet fun, You both struggled to keep your hands to yourselves.

"So what version of the game are we gonna play today?" leaning your side towards the counter of your kitchen you were both into at that time. "So the rules are simple. You touch or kiss, you lose a piece of clothing" he says smirking, "I'm so gonna win this time" you scoff at him, knowning that's more likely to lose and then ask "and what happens to the person that gets naked first". Another smirk appears on his face as he can't hide his excitement, "that's simple, they give oral to the other person"

"Deal!" you say "let's see how long you'll last baby… You're already wearing less clothers than what I'm wearing anyway" and then he looks at himself. A white comfy tank top and gray sweats and some home slippers. He doesn't react much already knowning how he'll end up. "Then are you ready?" he says suddenly getting closer, bicep flexing as he also leans towards the counter as well, putting his weight on that hand. Your hand moves ready to trace the muscle as you always do, stopping midway as you remember the game. He's smiling, a face full of joy as he sees you visibly struggle, "we just started baby, you';'re finding hard it seems" he says. "You wish" you say and go to your laptop to search for new series to watch.

"Leaving that early?" he says very close to your ear. "You might be missing a really good chance of getting head darling, I thought you really wanted that" he whispers and you can clearly hear the smirk he has on his face. "You already said I'll lose the game, so come back and let me lose in peace" he says and turns back into the place he was before. He sits down and taps on the place in front of himas you turn around. You sit down thinking of a way to win. Before you have a chance to actually think what to do, he places his arms in front of his legs, his face coming closer to yours as he flexes his muscles.

This time you can't help yourself and touch his forearm and when he smiles you come back to your senses and pull yourself back. "Doesn't seem like it'll be as easy to win as you thought it would, right?" he says as you sign and take of your shirt, revealing the sport bra you wear at home. "Bra at home?" he says kinda dissapointed. "Told you I have more layers on than you do", you smile starting to do exactly the same pose as he did before, pushing the top of your body forward, creating a nice for him. He licks his lips, and a hand comes right at your side, stroking its way upwards.

"Eager, aren't we?" you say and he gives up "Fuck that game, let's go". He takes off his tank top and picks you up, leading you both to the bedroom. "Well, it seems like the game is over" you laugh, "Yeah, I honestly never thought we'd last even that much to be honest" as your back hits the matress.

Head in the crook of your neck, lips sucking and licking the spot there. His hand stroke your side until they reach your thigh, squeezing it. He really can't keep himself composed, eagerly taking off your bra. Big hand go arounf breasts, playing with them, thumbs circling your nipples. He makes eye contact as his mouth goes around one, tongue flipping it oh so nicely, it sends tingles down your spine. You can't take it anymore and try to touch yourself, he, however has other plans and pulls your hand above your head. "Let me take care of that" he says with a smirk

He hurriedly pulling your pants down along with your panties, pushing his knee towards your bare pussy. A moan leaves your mouth as your area touches his skin. You wish for nothing more that for his tender touch, the fire that ablazes in your chest when you are one, together as one piece, moving your bodies in harmony.

"Put it in… Or at least touch me, I know you're eager for it too" you say pointing at his precum-stained boxers. "I wouldn't want to wait another moment sweetie". He pulls his boxers down and his hard on, springs free, shiny from the precum and not being touched till that moment. He rubs his length along your folds and then softly pushes it in. His head drops back, a groan leaving his mouth, as he feels around him, that familiar but never not satisfying warmth around him. He starts picking up his pace, brows furrowed, as he pushes your legs closer to your chest, a moan with each thrust.

"Not gonna last that long you know" you matter softly, a moan leaving your mouth right afterwards. "I'm not going to as well " he says, hand stroking your stomach as it travels lower, flicking your clit. You bit your lower lip, head thrown back, as bliss overtakes your body, happy to be filled by him, touched my him. He doesn't take too long, the pulses from your pussy driving to the edge as well, filling you with his cum.

His back touches the mattress as well, trying to catch his breath, a smile on his face. His hand touches yours, turning his hand towards you, "you know... we should play more games like these".

#seventeen #seventeen smut #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader

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artificial-transmutations · 3 months ago

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Out Now: Dam Breakers

Hello everyone! I'm extremely excited (and, quite frankly, more than a bit nervous) to announce that I finished my fantasy romance novel Dam Breakers!

For the very TLDR-version: It is available here! Be sure to read the disclaimer below, though.

First of all, thank you! Everyone who reads my stories or likes them shows me that there is at least some interest in my mediocre writing. And even though the novel is not exactly like my stories here (more to that later), it gives me hope that you and other people might like it.

Now, for the actual novel!

Dam Breakers is the tale of Jared, a rather normal modern day college student, and Aleron, an apprentice mage living in a secluded tower with his teacher. One fateful day, they meet and are drawn into a maelstrom of magic, change and love - and dark secrets threatening to destroy everything they loved.

With over 120000 words, this is not only my longest story yet, but also my most carefully crafted one. I will attach an image of my Obsidian graph for the story at the end of the post.

Disclaimer:

As I have mentioned, it is a bit different from the stories I usually post here. First and foremost, it's a lot tamer. This novel isn't meant as a porn piece, but as an intriguing fantasy and romance tale. While there is love, desire and sex, of course, it's way more sparse and less explicit than, for example Closer Than Flesh.

It also features transformation themes, and the concept of change is one of the main focus points of the book, but, again, don't expect 500 pages full of transforming bodies because of it :)

And, finally, for a multitude of reasons, it does not contain AI generated images. I wouldn't be able to generate any that do the story justice, anyway.

Now that you know what not to expect, here are some things you MAY expect:

Transformation. Both in the sense of bodily changes but intriguing character development as well.

Gay Love. This is a story about two men from different worlds falling in love with each other, and their stony road to being together.

Magic. It's a fantasy story, and a truly enchanting one at that, with a fresh concept of magic and change.

Story. Last, but certainly not least, it's a good and interesting read, at least according to my opinion. Since I might be a bit biased here, let me tell you that my beta readers agree.

If you still want to read it (and I hope you do!), then you can grab your copy here:

If you are not in the US, you can just replace the .com with, for example, .co.uk to go to your local Amazon marketplace

I have not forgotten, of course, that I promised a special condition for you folks at Tumblr. Since Amazon makes it a bit difficult to actually implement that, I plan to offer a time limited discount or giveaway in a few weeks. I'll announce the exact time here on my blog beforehand.

If you really want to support me, it would mean a lot to me if you could leave a review on Amazon. That influences the algorithm a lot and helps the book get visibility, which is incredibly important . So, please, if you like the book, leave a review.

Teaser / Preview (mild spoilers)

And here is a short look into the book, from chapter 4. It contains some mild spoilers, but nothing too important. I also added an AI image, which is not in the book (see above).

[...]

Even though the weather was unstable, Jared enjoyed the journey through the vibrant spring land. It was a closeness to nature he had never experienced. Even back home with his parents, in rural Texas, the land had seemed different. Back there, the wilderness had been tamed decades if not centuries ago. There was no wonder, no adventure. Here, there were hills and forests, rivers and bogs, and who knew what else. It was as if Jared was seeing the world for the first time. Not to mention the smell. Jared could not remember a time when he had smelled the spring air like this.

In addition to the landscape, Jared's traveling companion also played a big part. Aleron was an intelligent and witty conversationalist, and Jared learned a lot about his new friend. They spoke of everything under the sun, and Jared told stories of his home, of modern inventions and the differences between this world and his. Even though Aleron was fascinated by his tales, he was also clearly skeptical about some of them, especially when it came to the more complex topics. That was only fair, though, as Jared himself had a hard time believing the fantastic stories of this world, even after having experienced some with his own eyes. Dragons, for example. It didn't matter how often Aleron recited what little information he had about those magnificent beasts, something in Jared resisted fully believing in them. He hoped that he would be able to see one of them for real - although Aleron repeatedly stressed how dangerous they were - in order to be able to fully believe in them.

While Aleron's world was certainly magical, it wasn't all like in the Lord of the Rings. There were, for example, no other humanoid races, as Jared learned. No elves, dwarves or orcs, at least to Aleron's knowledge, which, to be fair, mainly included the Kingdom of Myrthien. Although the Whispering Woods were not technically a part of Myrthien, and were generally considered wilderness, it was clear that they were no part of another nation either. The closest neighboring country to the Whispering Woods would either be the Golden Isles beyond the coast south of Eldoria or the Verdant Lands to the west. According to Aleron, the Verdant Lands couldn't really be considered a nation, too. It was more of a loose confederation of tribal communities, living in the characteristic dense forests of that region.

As Helena had promised, Luminara wasn't difficult to find. The capital of Myrthien was well known and if there was a sign post somewhere, it was sure to point to Luminara.

There was no shortage of smaller and bigger settlements, and about every third or fourth night they were able to sleep in beds. During the other nights, they made camp a bit off the road in order not to attract too much attention. It was one of those nights, about two weeks after they had left Eldoria, that Jared woke up in the middle of the night. Aleron, who was sleeping next to him, was moving in his sleep and occasionally made a sound, which had caused Flicker to gain a bit of distance to the sleeping man.

It was clear to Jared that his friend was dreaming, and he briefly considered waking him up from his nightmare. However, judging by the sounds, Jared began to suspect that Aleron was not having a nightmare but quite the opposite, although the dream seemed to be just as intense.

Quietly, he left the tent, careful not to wake the sleeping mage. Outside, he was greeted by the stars and a clear sky with an almost full moon. The campfire was almost dead, just a few embers and ashes were left. It was a quiet, peaceful night, and Jared decided to go to the nearby lake to drink. Aleron had never once shown a single sign of sexuality before, except for demonstrating a certain uneasiness around nudity and related topics. He never had commented on any woman - or man - in a suggestive way, so Jared had been half- convinced that this whole topic didn't have any relevance to the mage at all.

Of course, for his own reasons, Jared had avoided the subject as well, so, perhaps Aleron thought the same about him. Jared didn't mind that. As magical as this world was, he had yet to encounter a single sign of same-sex attraction. Perhaps this wasn't a thing here, biologically, or perhaps it was socially frowned upon, like in his world's medieval ages - or rural Texas, present day. In any case, there was absolutely no reason to bring that topic up, so he didn't. Not bringing up his sexuality was a sport he was very experienced in for 9 years straight now, after all.

As Jared neared the lake, he was feeling weird and tingly all over. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it stirred a vague memory in Jared. He had felt this feeling once before, but he couldn't quite recall when.

When he bent down to scoop some water into his hand, he stopped before his fingers touched the surface of the lake. The moon was bright, and Jared could see his reflection in the mirror-smooth water quite well. The only problem was that it was not him who was looking back at him.

Of course, there was a strong resemblance, but the details weren't right. His face looked somewhat stronger, his jawline a bit squarer. His hair a bit lighter and styled like the day he first stepped out of the mirror. On his chin, there was a short well-groomed beard even though he had shaved just last morning. It wasn't just his face, though. As he looked down on himself, he looked fitter than he should, as if he was visiting a gym regularly. In fact, the definition of muscle on his torso increased further, just as he was watching. Suddenly, the wonder was replaced by fear. He had felt that way before, and now he remembered when. It had been during his first visit to Aleron's world, when his body was 'destabilizing' as Aleron had put it. Given, the feeling had been stronger then, but it was definitely the same. And now, his body was changing again, and he was weeks of travel from the magic mirror.

Half-panicking, he sprinted back to the tent, not caring about being quiet anymore. Perhaps Aleron knew what to do! He ducked into the entrance and called out to the mage.

"Aleron, wake up!"

Almost immediately, the apprentice jolted awake. "Jared? What is wrong?"

"I... don't know, it's me. Look at me!"

After a few words of encouragement, Flicker began burning brighter, allowing them to see in the tent as well. Aleron looked at the half-naked Jared critically for a few moments before asking: "Okay... what am I looking for?"

"Can't you see? I'm..." However, as Jared looked down on himself, everything was fine again. He was looking at his plain old self, just as he should look like. The tingling feeling was gone, too.

"Oh." Jared felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. "I... must have been imagining things."

[...]

If you liked the teaser, be sure to give the whole thing a read :)

Let me close with another whole-hearted Thank You for your continued interest!

Stay awesome!

And here, as promised, a peek at the creative complexity of the story:

#male transformation #muscle transformation #romance #not a story

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riizegasm · 6 months ago

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Through The Fire || B. EJ

❀ pairing: &team byun euijoo x fem!reader (ft. nicholas)

❀ genre: bffs to lovers!au, angst, minor fluff

❀ word count: ~6.2k

❀ warnings: explicit language, reader has a house fire, slight possessive behavior, lots of introspection

❀ summary: Stability is a luxury that isn’t afforded to everyone. However, you’re lucky enough to have your best friend, who has remained as the one stable factor throughout your whole life, even through the fire.

❀ A/N: I'm so so excited to share my second work with you all! I think this is one of the fastest times I have ever written a piece, which I think just shows how much I really love it. I hope you all love it too! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are always welcome :)

masterlist

Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red—

“Y/N!”

You blink, no longer blinded by the flash of cop cars. A quick glance across the parking lot reveals a familiar silhouette trying to cross the yellow caution tape, only being held back by a policeman. You release a shaky breath, trying to find your voice for the first time all night.

“It’s okay,” you call, praying your voice is loud enough. “He’s here for me.”

For once in your life, your voice is actually heard, the police officer nodding once before lifting the caution tape. Euijoo manages to duck under, his large frame only stumbling once before rising to his full height. His long legs allow him to move quickly, pulling you into a hug before you can even blink. From your sitting position, your face ends up pressed into the hard plane of Euijoo’s abdomen. You can feel his thundering heartbeat beneath the skin.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he breathes, leaning down to press his cheek into the messy mop of your hair.

When the two of you part, you wince at the few black streaks that have transferred to Euijoo’s t-shirt. You know that ash is likely still coloring your face, the scent of fire and burning fabric clinging to your skin. Although the flames have been put out, there is still residual smoke pluming from the building behind you. You cough twice, as if wisps of clouded air are still swirling around your lungs.

Euijoo squats down, finally eye level with your seated form as he searches your face. You let your eyes flutter shut, telling yourself that you’re still dazed from the fire. In reality, you know that making eye contact with the man before you would be too painful. He has always been too transparent, emotions freely swimming in his brown eyes.

“Were you able to grab anything else?” Euijoo’s voice has fallen to no more than a whisper.

You just shake your head in response, not bothering to acknowledge your purse and laptop that are placed next to you. Everything else, as far as you know, is gone. Euijoo sighs.

“They said that tomorrow, we can come back to look for things,” you whisper, swallowing back the sob that threatens to escape your throat. “But they told us not to get our hopes up.”

Euijoo is silent for a moment, staring at you with those deep dark eyes. You can feel the intensity of his stare with your eyes closed, having been on the receiving end of that same gaze many times. You know he pities you, but that’s the last thing you want right now.

“I’m taking you home, back to my place. You can stay there for as long as you need.”

Your eyes pop open, meeting Euijoo’s gaze for the first time that night. “You don’t have to. I can get a hotel or something for the night.”

“Absolutely not. When you moved out here, I promised your parents that I would take care of you, so that’s what I’m going to do.” Euijoo stands again to his full height, reaching out a hand that you eye warily. “Now let’s go home.”

. . .

Euijoo’s body wash smells of wood and cinnamon, the smell filling the bathroom and replacing the scent of fire and smoke that had previously seeped into your skin. Even his body lotion has a very specific scent, one that you are all too familiar with. The aroma clings to his clothes, along with a faint hint of laundry detergent, filling your nose as you slip into one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. They both hang incredibly long on you, shoulders in the shirt sagging while the shorts are snug around your hips.

Your wet hair has been pulled back into a bun, which you know will be a mess to tame in the morning. But Euijoo didn’t have any of the right hair products, and you would rather die than ask him to buy you something at the moment. Even when he offered, you shut him down, letting him know that anything he was missing would be a problem for the next day. After all, it was already well after midnight.

Euijoo’s eyes soften around the edges when you finally emerge from the bathroom, smiling timidly at you from the couch. You plop down unceremoniously next to him, hugging your knees to your chest as you back into the corner of the couch. Its leather creaks with the movement, a familiar sound after all these years.

“I ordered some food, just in case you haven’t eaten,” Euijoo says, inching further into your space. It’s impossible to fight a flinch when he places a hand on your bare knee, right where his shorts have ridden up your thigh. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

Without looking, you know that Euijoo is rolling his eyes, the tiny hint of sass that he’s harbored since childhood peeking through.

“Well, I called your dad, and he said you only texted your parents briefly. He wanted to talk to you but I told him that you were showering and probably didn’t feel like talking.” Euijoo gives your thigh a firm squeeze. “But I was hoping you’d at least talk to me.”

Your heart lurches at the thought of Euijoo speaking to your family, even though you know it has been a regular occurrence since you were teenagers. Your parents had always been fond of him, the picture-perfect image of the boy next door. And as you grew older, Euijoo had basically been absorbed into the family. Even though he’s been your best friend since you were children, you don’t know why the thought of talking to him right now is making your stomach swim.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you mumble, shrinking further into the couch cushions.

“Y/N…just…look at me, please?”

It takes all your strength, but you manage to tear your gaze away from your knees to meet Euijoo’s own. His rounded eyes are sparkling like they always are, a hint of sadness dampening their brightness. His lips pull up into a small smile at the eye contact, plush cheeks dimpling. His warm hand is still placed firmly on your thigh, large enough to span most of its circumference.

“There you are,” he coos, beginning to rub light circles on the exposed skin of your thigh. “Listen, I know you. I know you’re going to keep saying everything is fine because you don’t want anyone to worry about you. But your entire apartment building just burned down. You’re feeling something. You have to talk to someone about it. Even if it’s not me, you have to let someone in.”

You blink, and when you reopen your eyes, your vision is cloudy. Fat, hot tears spill over, leaving scalding trails down your cheeks. You can barely make out Euijoo’s smile dropping before you are pulled into a tight embrace. When you both were younger, you used to hate when Euijoo would use his overwhelming strength against you. But now, you are grateful for it, knowing you wouldn’t have hugged him otherwise.

“I was so scared, Juju,” you sob into the crook of his neck. “I was just in my room and when I opened the door, everything was in flames. There wasn’t anywhere I could go! I was trapped on the balcony until they came and got me. I thought I was gonna die.”

Euijoo just squeezes you tighter at the outburst, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m so sorry. But you’re okay now. You’re safe here with me.”

The two of you are quiet for a few moments, the only thing interrupting the silence being the occasional hiccup or sniffle. It feels like ages until you have finally calmed down enough to pull away. But when you do, you notice the tear tracks drying on Euijoo’s ruddy cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” You ask softly.

Euijoo just shrugs, chuckling sadly. “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

You don’t have enough time to respond before the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your food. Euijoo excuses himself to go answer it, allowing you to admire the long lines of his legs as he retreats. You can’t help but feel embarrassed, as you always are around the man. But you hate the way he leaves your heart hammering in your chest as you stare.

It’s not like you are unaware of how attractive Euijoo is. After all, the first time you ever laid eyes on him at seven years old, you swore he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Despite the childish attraction, you had grown to love him in a much deeper way, the kind of love that only develops when you know someone inside and out. Euijoo grew taller, older, buffer, more handsome, and you had found a million ways to love him differently, love him deeper. The love you had for Euijoo surely changed, which leaves you hating the way your body heats up and your pulse picks up speed as Euijoo rounds the corner.

His wide smile is paired with crinkled eyes and you feel a piece of your heart turn heavy like lead.

“I’m like 90% sure they got some of our order wrong, but there’s still plenty of good stuff in case you’re hungry.”

You don’t bother looking at the takeout bag, too busy guiltily feasting your eyes on the sight before you.

. . .

Falling into a routine is unfairly easy. The two of you will wake up from your shared bed, at Euijoo’s insistence that you don’t sleep on the couch, and begin to get ready for the day. You cook breakfast as Euijoo gets ready for work, cherishing the fact that your job has permitted you plenty of personal leave. You watch him leave in a crisply pressed suit and daintily patterned tie, off to his accounting job for a few hours.

Then you sit in silence, ruminating over everything that has led you to this exact moment. You replay the moment that you were confronted with a wall of flames, feeling heat lick at your toes the same way it did that night. You let your shoulders shake in terror the same way they did when you were trapped on the balcony, fearing for your life. You cough like the billowing smoke is clouding your lungs, even though the air in Euijoo’s apartment is crisp and smells faintly of lemon-scented cleaner.

Then Euijoo comes through the door, and you slap a smile on your face. Sometimes he returns with takeout, bag overflowing with all of your shared favorites. Sometimes he comes with a bag full of groceries, which the two of you unpack together while Euijoo recounts his day. You’re quick to shoo him away as you begin to cook.

It’s the only thing that makes you feel like less of a parasite than you are.

You’re both following that exact routine until you reach your first Saturday, and Euijoo practically vibrates in excitement at the prospect of spending the day together. Despite living in the same city, the two of you have rarely spent full days together, work or other personal engagements always getting in the way.

“I was thinking of having a few friends over tonight,” Euijoo mentions over a bowl of cereal. “I feel like you haven’t met enough of my friends.”

“It’s your house,” you shrug, burying your nose into your own bowl so you don't have to face the disappointed look in his eye.

“Y/N, you gotta stop with that.”

“With what?” You snap.

You know you’re being difficult. You know that all Euijoo wants is some positive input from his best friend, but you can’t. It hurts deep in your core to give him what he’s wanting when you know you are already taking so much. You shouldn’t be here, and you definitely shouldn’t have a say in whether or not Euijoo has his friends over tonight. Yet, he wants to hear from you.

Like he thinks you’re important. Like he thinks you matter. Like he thinks you’re more than just a virus, invading a host for selfish gain.

You have nothing to gain, you remind yourself.

“I’m sorry, Juju,” you sigh, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face. “I’m not trying to be a bitch. I mean it.”

Euijoo’s spoon falls into his porcelain bowl with a loud clink. “I know you’re not. You’re just going through a lot right now. But I just want to help you.”

“You’re doing way more than just helping me.”

“I feel like I’m not doing enough.”

You sigh. “What do you mean? You’re already doing so much by just having me here and I can’t help but just wonder why.”

“Because I love you.”

The way he says it jumpstarts your heart, hotwiring it so it’s moving at a million miles per hour in your chest. You know he doesn’t mean it the way you want him to. He loves in the way a best friend loves, in the way family loves, that much is clear.

But there’s something in his open expression that has your heart clinging onto a maybe. Maybe he has loved you the way you have loved him and hated yourself for. Maybe he knows that being loved is all that you have ever wanted but is simultaneously your greatest fear. Maybe he knows that all of your belongings disappearing right before your very eyes while he was the only thing that remained meant something to you.

“You’re my best friend.”

Or maybe it meant nothing at all.

Euijoo sighs, leaning back in his chair before addressing you across the table from him. “It’s impossible for me not to worry about you when you won’t talk to me, or to anyone! You don’t leave the house and it just scares me. I want to help you, but I can’t do anything until you let me.”

You swallow, your bite of cereal feeling too thick as it travels down your esophagus. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Euijoo mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just let me in.”

“I’m trying.”

“Are you?”

You’re not, and you both know it. If anything, you’re doing the exact opposite, trying to close yourself off as much as possible. You shrink into spaces, making yourself so small that Euijoo will forget that you’re there. It never seems to work, though. The other man sees you no matter where you attempt to hide.

There’s a moment of silence as the two best friends regard each other. Silently, you mourn your cereal getting soggy in your bowl even though you have lost your appetite. Euijoo’s own is empty, his metal spoon resting against the pure white bowl. For a moment, you catch a whiff of cinnamon. You’re temporarily perplexed, only to have your own question answered when the neckline of Euijoo’s shirt shifts against your collarbones. Despite not wanting to feel parasitic, you can’t refuse the comfort of literally living in his clothes.

“I just want you to be happy and have some fun tonight, so I’m going to have some people stop by.” Euijoo doesn’t once break eye contact as he speaks. “It’s not going to be big, but it will be good for you to talk to someone who isn’t me.”

You suppress a scoff, knowing that you don't really talk to Euijoo either, not in the way he desires. “Fine. Like I said, it’s your house.”

You don't stay to hear the exasperated sigh that Euijoo lets out, choosing instead to dump the remains of your cereal in the trash. There isn’t much other space to retreat to, so you make yourself comfy on the sofa, just barely out of Euijoo’s sight. It’s only a moment before the man joins you, hoisting your legs onto his lap.

“Movie?” He questions, thumb rubbing small circles into the bare skin of your ankle as if all is forgiven.

You just make a small noise of affirmation before sinking further into the cushions, letting yourself get comfortable as Euijoo puts something on.

Euijoo’s touch used to fluster you, back when you were in that awkward stretch of preteen and early teen years. No guys touched girls the way that Euijoo touched you unless they were dating. The girls in your classes would always try and convince you that it had to mean something more, that he had to feel something more for you than just platonic love. He loved loved you.

It didn’t help that you loved him way more than you should have.

It was enough to make you flinch when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pull away when he trapped you in a hug. You avoided holding hands on the way home from school and refused to share earbuds when the two of you sat next to each other. It would all make your heart pound too hard and your palms so sweaty that your phone would slip through your grasp.

You were just friends; that you knew. It didn’t matter that Euijoo loved to play with the loose pieces of hair that framed your face or that his hand outgrew yours to the point where your fingers swam in the spaces between his. It didn’t matter that your chest constricted every time his right cheek dimpled or that your face burned every time he called you by your name.

Because every boiling pot eventually cools to a simmer when the heat dissipates.

As you two grew into late teens and early adulthood, you eventually relaxed into the affection that Euijoo would display. The constriction relaxed to a minor tightness and the burn became more of a minor glow. You became more confident that this is what friends feel for each other, a love so vast that it fills your core to the brim but never fully encompasses you.

You would gladly let him encompass you. But until he does, you’ll have to make do with his scent.

You find yourself using Euijoo’s body wash in the shower before the party, even though your own has made a home right next to his. You also use his lotion, rubbing the scent of him into your skin. As much as you contemplate wearing his clothes again, you know that it will only be right to put on your best for tonight. Your makeup and hair are done for the first time in a week, and you feel a bit more like yourself again.

You feel like a girl anyone can look at and not know she’s screaming inside. You consider it a win.

The few friends that Euijoo invites over arrive in waves. It gives you enough time to introduce yourself and make some small talk before having to do it time and time again. By the fifth or so introduction, though, you’re feeling a little worn out, even with the booze that helps ease your nerves. You grab another seltzer from the fridge and squeeze into the corner of the sofa. You only have a few moments of peace before the leather dips beside you.

“Mind if I join you?”

Deep, piercing eyes are only barely visible behind overgrown black fringe, the rest of his hair falling down the back of his neck. Nicholas’s smile is welcoming, extremely warm and familiar for someone you have just met a handful of minutes ago. Despite the assortment of clunky rings, silver jewelry, and thick eyeliner, he seems pretty soft and pleasant.

“Go ahead,” you mumble, taking a long swig from your can.

“You know, It’s nice to finally meet you, the infamous but ever-illusive best friend. Euijoo literally talks about you all the time.”

You wish you could say the same, but Euijoo has always been notoriously quiet about others when you two speak. It used to bug you, not knowing anything about who your best friend chose to spend his time with. But throughout the years, you were forced to let it go.

“Good things, I hope.”

Nicholas chuckles softly. “Great things, actually. But something tells me it still doesn’t compare to you in real life.”

“You don’t even know me,” you scoff. “How would you know what I’m like?”

“Well, if your personality is anything like your beauty, then I think Euijoo just barely scratched the surface.”

The snort that you let out genuinely takes you by surprise. You rush to apologize, free hand coming up to hide your grin despite the way Nicholas is smiling as well. He looks pretty like this, you note, with his cheeks twisted upwards and eyes shining with mirth.

“I’m so sorry,” you giggle. “But that was a crazy line.”

Nicholas shrugs. “Listen, making pretty girls laugh is an art form. I had to say what I had to say. You honestly looked like you were going to commit murder just sitting here.”

Now it’s your turn to shrug, the smooth beats of Euijoo’s playlist soothing the silence between the two. The brief moment of respite is enough for you to feel a pair of eyes on you from across the room. When you turn to face Euijoo, though, he just shoots you a calm smile.

“I don’t think he likes that I’m talking to you.”

“Who? Euijoo?”

Nicholas doesn’t respond, choosing instead to take a long swig of his drink. The silver rings on his fingers reflect the minimal light in the room as he tilts his cup back. You struggle not to trace the movement of his throat with your gaze as he drinks.

“Why would he not want you to talk to me?”

“I think it’s because you’re off limits, sweetheart.”

Before you can respond, a warm body plops down on the couch next to you, instantly pressing into your space. The woodsy scent of Euijoo’s cologne is confirmation enough, but the way his hand instantly finds a home on your thigh is a dead giveaway. When you look over to regard the man, his eyes are trained away, locked on Nicholas instead.

“And what are you two chatting about?” He inquires with an overly saccharine smile.

Nicholas just smiles. “See what I mean?”

He’s gone with little more than a wink and a subtle tip of his cup.

. . .

Sunday morning brings a welcome mundane energy. You and Euijoo stand side by side at the sink, sudsy hands working on washing sticky juice and lip gloss off glasses from the night before. There’s soft music playing from Euijoo’s phone, a pleasant melody filling the silence along with the sound of flowing water. Despite the serenity, you can’t help the question itching in the back of your brain.

“So what was that last night?”

“What was what?” Euijoo’s eyes are endearingly round when he turns to look at the woman on his left.

You sigh. “That whole thing with Nicholas? We were talking and then you came in seeming all threatened?”

“Threatened?” Euijoo chuckles. “Why would I be threatened?”

“I have no idea. That’s why I’m asking.”

The smile that rises on Euijoo’s face doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His ears begin to bloom a brilliant shade of red, tipping you off to the lie he’s about to tell.

“I wasn’t threatened. It made me happy to see two of my closest friends getting along.”

The sound of the faucet running prevents you from responding, Euijoo having turned it on with a sense of finality. You decide not to push it, knowing that when Euijoo gets cagey like this, time and space are the only thing that can make him open up. You guess it’s what makes the two of you similar, your limited ability to be transparent with each other over the things that really matter.

You spend the rest of the day circling around each other like animals in an enclosure. You share space, following each other from room to room while simultaneously keeping as much distance as physically possible. When Euijoo sits on one side of the couch, you sit on the other. When you rummage through the fridge, Euijoo stands by the breakfast table. It isn’t until you both find yourselves in the shared bathroom, brushing your teeth over a shared sink that you speak.

“I think threatened is the wrong word for it,” Euijoo says with a foamy mouth. “I just know how Nicholas is, so I wanted you to be careful.”

You spit. “What do you mean?”

“He’s the player type, likes to fuck around.” Euijoo spits and swishes some water around his mouth before continuing. “I know he thinks you’re cute or whatever. But you deserve better than that.”

“Since when do you care about my love life?”

“Since forever.”

There it goes again, the feeling of maybe. You are left to wonder if he means that in the sense that you want him to mean it. You wonder if his attention to you comes from his Virgo nature or from his genuine care for you. You wonder if it comes from his love for you, and if it’s the same type of love that you have for him.

“You know I don’t date like that,” you mumble, folding your arms over your chest. You’re once again clad in Euijoo’s tee shirt, a tiny pair of shorts disappearing underneath its hem.

Euijoo sighs. “I know. But I also know that Nico doesn’t care about dating. That’s not what he’d want from you.”

“And who’s to say that’s what I want from him either?”

“I didn’t know you were that type.”

I’m not, you want to say, but the words swirl back down your throat like water down a drain. You don't get a chance to respond before Euijoo is leaving the bathroom, running a hand through his hair. It feels pathetic to follow him out, but you do anyway, trying to find words as you plop down onto his bed. Euijoo switches the light off before settling in next to his best friend.

“Look,” Euijoo says after a moment of silence. “If you want to go after Nico, then I can’t stop you. I’m sure he’d be happy to have you.”

“Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Have me? In that way, I mean.”

The words leave your mouth before you can properly process what they mean. You want to rush to take them back, to let the words that hang in the darkness return to the safety of your brain. For some reason, you let them linger.

Euijoo releases a shaky breath, the sound seeming thunderous in the silent darkness. For a good moment, that’s all there is. You would be convinced that the man fell asleep if it weren’t for the odd rhythm of his breathing and the way his body shifts.

“Y/N, I could never.”

The blood in your veins ices over, leaving you frozen in place.

“Oh.”

Euijoo shifts on the bed, laying on his side so that he’s able to fully face you. “I mean there’s all of this. You’re in a vulnerable spot and we’ve been spending a lot of time together. I’m sure you’re just feeling a lot right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Euijoo sighs. “That’s why I also want you to think twice before going for Nico.”

You want to scream. How Euijoo could bring Nicholas up at a time like this is beyond you. You don't know how he can’t see that this isn’t about him. This isn’t about trauma or a fire or needing a warm bed to sleep in. This is about you, both of you. This has been about you way before the fire and will continue to be about you for years after.

But it’s no use, you know that much. In times of conflict, Euijoo has always been quick to skirt around the topic, always trying to obscure the truth through diversion. But there’s one simple fact that remains clear; Euijoo doesn’t want you. Or rather, he doesn’t want you to want him.

“I really hate when you do this, you know,” you spit.

You can almost hear Euijoo’s eye roll as he speaks. “When I do what?”

“When you try to tell me how I feel. You don’t know shit about how I’m feeling.”

“I could,” Euijoo retorts. “But you never let me in. So what the hell do you expect me to do?”

Even in the dark, you know the man’s face has turned red, hot with frustration. The knowledge is enough to keep you silent for a moment, carefully mulling over your words before you speak.

“If I tell you how I’m feeling, I’m going to end up telling you too much.”

“You could never tell me too much.”

You can’t help but sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut. “I just did.”

. . .

Cleaning the entire apartment is how you choose to put salve on the wounds of your friendship. You scrub away at the grime on the countertops, wipe the grease and stains from every mirror, and mop the floor until you can see your reflection in it. It’s not much, but it’s something to distract you from the red hot feeling that blooms in your chest when you think about the night before.

Bits of yourself seeped through the locked cage of your heart last night. And now that they’re out in the open, you’re not sure if they will ever return to you.

Euijoo returns home from work with a sigh, loosening his tie right when he comes through the doorway. The skin underneath his eyes has taken on a purplish hue, fine lines settling deep from exhaustion. He doesn’t even look like himself, despite looking everything like himself. You hate how you think he looks beautiful.

“Hey,” he greets softly when he strolls into the kitchen. “I didn’t have time to pick anything up, so I ordered delivery.”

You nod once, before tuning into the fact that the man has yet to look at you. “That’s fine.”

The silence that overcomes the kitchen hangs low like nimbostratus clouds, heavy with rainwater. It’s almost oppressive, the way Euijoo’s gaze remains down at his feet while you pick at your cuticles. Never in your decades of friendship have you ever had tension like this. You hate the way it makes your throat constrict, suddenly parched for a connection that won’t come.

“Are you okay?” You manage to croak out. “You look…stressed.”

Euijoo lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Maybe because I am.”

“Why?”

Finally, Euijoo’s gaze snaps up to meet your own, eyes holding a sense of disbelief. “My best friend propositioned me last night and I turned her down. And when I turned her down, she lost it on me.”

“Juju, I—,”

“No,” he interrupts, voice scratchy from the thickness in his throat. “Don’t do that now. I’m just…what’s going on with you, Y/N? I don’t know what has changed, but it’s killing me. Why can’t you just tell me what’s been going on with you so I can help?”

Your eyes begin to sting as Euijoo speaks, the beginnings of tears welling up near your waterline. It takes a few seconds for you to swallow down the lump that sits high in your throat. Your hands are dry from various cleaning solutions as they flex and contract at your sides, looking for something to grasp onto. You just end up balling them into fists, letting your nails press grounding pains into your palms.

“I told you how much you’ve already helped me.”

Euijoo sighs, running a hand through his hair. “And I told you that wasn’t enough. So talk to me, tell me why I can’t help you anymore. Tell me why you asked me to sleep with you all of a sudden! Tell me why you’ve been so weird about this whole situation from the beginning!”

“Because I need you!”

You don't know when your voice gained enough power to come out as a yell, shrill and pained. But once it does, the dam breaks. You know you are helpless to stop it.

“I need you, and it scares me, Juju. You’re my best friend and I love you and need you in ways that you don’t need me. You provide me with everything and I’m just here as your best friend. I’m the friend you don’t even bring around much and the friend you don’t let anyone talk to! You make it so clear that you don’t need me and yet, here I am, living off you like some parasite.

“I love you, Euijoo. I’m in love with you. And knowing that you don’t love me back is one thing. But for you to take my love for you and throw it in my face as just another one of my vulnerabilities is cruel. You ask why I don’t let you in, and this is why. If I do, I’ll just tell you how I feel and you’ll pity me like you do now.”

Lightning strikes across Euijoo’s face as he listens, expression slowly twisting in pain. It’s a flash of a million emotions at once. Surprise, hurt, disbelief, and then it all mellows out into a calm nothingness.

“Have you only felt this way since the fire?”

You fight the urge to scream at the top of your lungs. “No. I’ve felt this way since forever, maybe.”

“Are you sure?” The man’s eyes reflect the light in the room, glossed over and twinkling with the first hints of unshed tears.

“You know what’s funny,” you bite out. “When I lost everything, there was only one thing that remained constant in my life, even through the fire.”

“Me?”

“My feelings for you.”

Euijoo sucks in an audible breath, shaky and laborious. It’s as if the confession finally sunk into his consciousness, as if he finally understood exactly what you meant when you said you loved him. His shoulders immediately sag in relief as the first few tears begin to trail down his cheeks. Despite the tears, he can’t help but smile.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since we were eleven.”

“What?”

Euijoo just chuckles, sniffling twice before continuing. “I thought that you knew and that’s why you were shutting me out! And then when you just asked if I would sleep with you, I thought you were just rubbing it in my face. Either that or you were just emotionally a mess and needed some support.”

“Well, I am,” you respond with a watery smile. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, too.”

Euijoo slowly approaches your tense figure, as if not to spook you. Even his hand movements are subtle as they reach for your dry hands. With just a small tug, you find yourself stumbling forward, far into Euijoo’s space. The height difference is enough to force you to crane your neck upwards to make eye contact, not surprised to see the man already smiling down at you.

Tears continue to stream down Euijoo’s face, the wetness dripping from the tip of his nose down to the floor. You know you probably look similar, despite having tried your hardest to fight back tears from the beginning. It’s no use now. Your walls have already come crashing down.

“I love you,” Euijoo whispers, as if sharing a secret not meant to escape your own personal bubble. “I always have, and I think I always will.”

You release a shaky breath, body trembling in Euijoo’s hold. “I love you, too.”

“Can I…?” Euijoo doesn’t finish his question, eyes simply darting down to your lips before meeting your gaze once again.

All it takes is a slow nod before a hand is wrapping around your waist, pulling you in closer and closer until—

When you were twelve, you had your first kiss. It was nothing more than a simple peck, shared on the back of the school bus on a school field trip. You remember the way your heart fluttered back then, palms clammy and body vibrating with nerves. You felt kind of gross afterwards, but giddy nonetheless.

When you told Euijoo later that day, he looked shocked. He floundered for a moment as he stood in place, frozen on their walk home from school. You remember lightly punching his shoulder, asking him what his deal was. It seemed to be enough to shock him out of his stupor, only snapping back to attention to say:

“That was your first kiss. They always say that’s the one you’re going to remember forever.”

Euijoo was wrong. If there’s one kiss that you will remember forever, it’s this one, with Euijoo’s large hands spanning the circumference of your waist. It’s this one, with Euijoo’s plush yet slightly chapped lips grazing yours. It’s this one, with the salt of tears mixing in with the taste of each others’ mouths. It’s this one, with Euijoo.

When the two of you part, Euijoo presses his forehead to yours, allowing your breaths to mingle as you pant. You can’t seem to quite open your eyes yet, simply basking in the sensation of Euijoo taking over all of your senses. You relish in the sound of his labored breathing. You love the warmth of his palms through the thin t-shirt you’re wearing.

You bask in the scent of him, the bold aroma of cinnamon, tinged with a hint of smoke.

#byun euijoo imagines #&team imagines #&team smut #&team fluff #&team angst #written in the stars #&team

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