#< I don’t think I’ve draw him in five years??

[cricket-mound]

please don’t take him away. please don’t.

alt title is pls don’t separate them <33 they (me) cannot handle it </33

[peachsayshi]

// brutally soft // I.

baby daddy!sukuna x reader

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different | wc: 1,653 | read this for more context

note: I hope I got the honorifics right lol please correct me if I didn't

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

You didn’t think it was possible for a five year old to render you speechless, nor did you think she was capable of making your former lover blush the deepest shade of tomato red. You part your lips in surprise, stunned as you look down at her innocent expression. She’s sitting on your living room floor, her face perched on her palms with her elbows resting against the coffee table. Her wide eyes drift between you and Sukuna sitting on the sofa, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she tilts her head slightly out of intrigue.

“Mama?” She presses, begging for an answer.

Your mouth moves but no words come out. You’re trying to formulate a proper response that’s palatable for her, one that will be enough to subdue any further questions.

Except you’re not quite sure how to answer: “why don’t you and daddy ever kiss?” without making her pry even more into your history with her father.

Sukuna runs his large palms back and forth nervously over his thigh, the muscles on his inked forearms tensing up.

“We kiss,” you fib, because what else are you supposed to say, “of course we do!”

Your daughter’s face falters, and she quirks her brow as sassily as her father when they both mirror the same expression to look at you.

You glance back at Sukuna, giving him an awkward smile because at least you said something all the while he just sat there. 

“No, you don’t…” your daughter insists.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right…we do…of course, we do…” Sukuna pipes in with a mumble, finally catching on to your attempts as he reverts his attention on to his precious girl.

“I’ve never seen it,” she points out with a pout, scolding her father playfully in return.

“That’s because we don’t do it in front of you,” Sukuna remarks. “Besides, who wants to see their parents kiss?”

His daughter rolls her eyes, “all other mommies and daddies do it, except you guys. It makes no sense…”

She’s got the tiniest voice and the softest lisp, but her attitude is entirely her father. She’s bold and blunt, never afraid to say exactly what she’s thinking or to point the obvious.

“Oji-san kisses oba-san in front of Shiro…” she mumbles, dropping both her hands onto the coffee table and crumpling the paper that she is using to draw her little family portrait.

At the mention of his younger brother Sukuna can’t help but grimace. Yuji was incredibly affectionate towards his wife, wearing his heart on his sleeve entirely which just makes Sukuna grumble with annoyance. He’s always been a little envious of his younger brother, who never had to face the world as harshly as Sukuna. With an eleven year gap between them, Sukuna witnessed his parents becoming actual parents. They were young when they had him, and therefore had no clue what it took to raise or take care of a child. Sukuna was caught in the middle of their relationship for most of his childhood, all the while Yuji got to see the peaceful harmony once they finally made up.

“I’m just saying…” your daughter adds on, “…it’s weird.”

You breathe out a sigh in defeat, knowing full well that she won’t let go of the subject until she gets some consolation.

So incredibly stubborn just like her dad.

Without considering the repercussions, you reach your hand out and clutch Sukuna’s chin delicately between your fingers. You tilt his head towards you, noticing the slow register of your touch wash over his face as you lean up to kiss his cheek.

However, you misjudged your aim, because Sukuna tilted his head down in return, and you wound up leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth instead.

Your lips lingered for only a few seconds, three to be exact, before you retracted and turned towards your daughter.

“See?” You insist, holding onto Sukuna’s chin like it’s evidence between your fingers. “We kiss!”

Your daughter’s mouth forms into a line, clearly unimpressed. The older she’s getting the more she’s picking up on the little things that you guys were hiding so well.

But it’s still way too complicated, and you and Sukuna haven't even discussed how to approach this yet.

“I guess,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders, before returning to her drawing.

You didn’t even know that Sukuna has his focus still locked onto your lips tuntil you turn to look back at him.His gaze is soft, the muscles of his handsome features melting between your touch. There’s a hint of sorrow that twinkles in his eyes, and when you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth apologetically, you notice that you left a lipstick stain in your wake.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and carefully use your thumb to swipe over the mark.

But your heart seizes quickly, your spine growing still when Sukuna mildly inches forward like he’s about to go in for another kiss.

You remember what it was like to kiss him. He was an exceptionally good kisser, even though he probably doesn’t know it himself. You’ve spent hours losing time locked against those lips, allowing his tongue to taste every last drop of you.

There’s a twitch in your chest, everything around you going quiet. Heat pricks the back of your neck when his lips draw just a breath away from yours, and you swear to yourself that he grazed over your mouth with a featherlight touch.

But Sukuna stops suddenly, catching himself.

“Be right back,” he whispers, his voice dipping so low you can’t help but clench your thighs together.

He shoots up from his seat, detangling quickly as he brushes you off, and leaving you to stare aimlessly at his broad back and overbearing muscles. Your sofa suddenly appears a lot larger with all that free space.

You press both hands to your cheeks, licking your lips as the apprehension runs through you as a cold chill. You can’t even remember when was the last time you kissed the father of your child, but you didn’t think that such a small act would have such a lingering effect.

You thought you were over this. Over him. That chapter was closed a long, long time ago.

You look up at the cause of this unexpected interaction, your daughter’s short attention span keeping her focused on her doodle while she hums to herself.

Sukuna returns with his head held high a few minutes after, and plops down on the sofa with his weight prompting you to bounce lightly in place.

That’s when you felt it, a hint of cold hitting your brow like a tiny droplet of rain.

Your furrow your brows then notice that your Sukuna’s hair is actually damp, with little tears trickling down the back of his neck.

The tips of his ears are still burning red.

You part your lips in awe.

Sukuna is a master at making you blush. At making any woman blush, frankly. But you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen that reaction on him.

It stuns you how much it suits him, and surprises you even more of just how cute he looks trying to hide it.

“Daddy, can you help me?” Your daughter asks, finally focusing back on the two of you while her finger draws out an outline of what appears to be two arms.

“Whatever you want, Princess…” Sukuna responds, and obediently gets up from his seat.

He perches himself on the floor, the size difference between him and your little girl doing nothing to help the sudden hammering in your chest.

He’s so, so gentle with her.

She crawls onto his lap, holding the sheet of paper in her hand, before setting herself back up while sitting on his thighs.She points to the drawing with her index finger, “I don’t know how to draw your tattoos…”

Sukuna chuckles, a glimpse of his smile making you to scratch the warmth off the back of your neck.

He picks up a black pencil, “you’re a better artist than me, kid,” he states honestly, “not quite sure what I can do to help…”

She wraps her arms around his neck, leaving her dad to carry on the effort.

“I’ll explain the shapes and you draw it!” She says with a kiss to his cheek.

It’ll never cease to amaze you how easily he bends to her will. Sukuna had no interest in any of this, and was obstinate in every sense of the word. Nothing could turn that man into a docile cat except when it comes to your little girl. He’s present with her, this part of him just so different, and even after five years it still feels a tad unfamiliar.

There’s a slight tightness in your throat because this is all you wanted when you were together. After the break up and surprise pregnancy, you didn’t realize how hard he took it when you told him that you have zero expectations of him being involved in your daughter’s life. You were just informing him out of moral obligation, but something switched on inside him after that.

It may not have been for you, but he made that change for her, and seeing them together now, you recognize just how much that man loves his little girl.

That fact alone makes you undeniably happy.

So happy you wish you could give him a real kiss for it.

Your daughter moves to pat his head in gesture of a good job as Sukuna follows her instructions to the T, but her faces scrunches with disgust when she threads her fingers between his locks.

“Daddy, why is your hair wet?”

Sukuna brings his free hand to massage the back of her scalp, “Pay attention to the drawing, missy…and stop asking so many damn, I mean uh-darn questions…” he responds, leaving a kiss on her brow and doing everything in his power to make sure that he avoids looking back at you.

tag: @selarina @yuujispinkhair @blush-bambi @tojislittleprincesss

[hotmentransformed]

New Year's Kiss

Elliot stood awkwardly near the bathroom, feeling as out of place as always at events like this. This New Year's party was everything that he hated: loud music, flashy lights that pulsed with every eardrum-shattering bass drop, and a crowd of people who seemed to all know one another. The bar was furnished with exposed brick walls and ceilings strung with glittering lights. Partygoers laughed and drank toasting to a great year and to the great year to come. The space was buzzing, a vignette of colorful outfits, party hats, and the unmistakable stench of alcohol.

Elliot pulled his green shirt tighter around himself, hoping to shrink into the background and disappear to anywhere but here.

He’d always been a skinny guy—narrow shoulders, wiry arms, and legs that made pants shopping a nightmare. His blond hair, thin and perpetually messy, fell into his eyes, which were a muted gray. He was completely invisible. Perfectly unremarkable. Crowds made him anxious, and parties like this were just reminders of everything he wasn’t—charismatic, stylish, or fun.

As the music pulsated, he gazed into the crowd, feigning knowledge of the pop song by bobbing around like a chicken. Around him, people danced and laughed and sang, the countdown to midnight drawing closer. He could hear short snippets of other people's conversations—plans for the new year, flirtatious banter, and the occasional drunken holler.

“Why did I come here?” he groaned to himself, scanning for the exit. He had been invited by a coworker who promised him it would be fun, but he had disappeared within five minutes of their arrival. Typical.

Coming to this New Year's party was a huge mistake. He didn’t belong here. There were too many people, too much noise, and an overwhelming vibe that he couldn’t match. He glanced at the door. Maybe if he slipped out quietly, no one would notice, not that anyone even noticed that he was here now.

Before he could make a break for it, the countdown began, and the crowd’s energy surged to a fever pitch. The numbers ticked down as Elliot shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the exit. He would leave right after the count was over; everyone would be distracted by the festivities.

Three… two… one!

Before Elliot had a chance to react, a large hand grabbed his arm and quickly spun him around. Through the dim lighting, his eyes managed to focus on a handsome man with a wide grin and a mischievous glint in his bright eyes. His curly hair tufted out from under his hat, and his t-shirt’s sleeves were cut so deep, that his toned chest and abs peeked out. Without hesitation, the man leaned in and kissed him—a bold, celebratory kiss, filled with lust.

Elliot’s mind went blank. His instincts screamed in objection. He shoved the man away, his face burning with humiliation and anger. A New Year's Kiss? Why couldn’t it have been a hot girl? Why did it have to be him? Elliot spat out, cleansing his mouth of the man’s saliva. The man only smirked, unfazed, and winked before disappearing into the crowd.

His train of thought was broken by a strange warmth dancing across his arms. The unfamiliar sensation was not necessarily unpleasant, but it was certainly unnerving. He tugged lightly at the sleeves of his shirt, trying to ease the sensation. Now, the party was feeling even more stifling and stuffy. He tugged at his neckline, trying to cool off. He needed to get out of here. He slowly stumbled towards the exit.

Before he could fully process what was happening, a bubbly voice called out in his direction, “Hey, you!”

Elliot turned to see a hot girl wearing a tight bralette beaming at him. She sauntered closer, her eyes running over him with shameless intrigue.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you before,” she said, resting a hand on her slim waist. Her gaze dropped briefly to his arms. “Wow, you’re really built.”

Elliot blinked, startled. Was she talking about him? His arms felt tighter in the shirt, and his sleeves were snug against his biceps, but he wasn’t built. Was he? “I, uh… thanks,” he mumbled, glancing at the exit. 

The woman grinned and slithered closer, her manicured hand rubbing circles softly along his back. “Do you work out? Because, wow…”

Elliot’s cheeks burned. Normally, he would’ve been thrilled by this kind of attention from a girl, but instead, he felt… nothing. No spark of attraction, no thrill at her touch. He only felt uncomfortable.

“I should, uh, get some air,” he said, sidestepping her. Elliot turned and pushed into the crowd, the strange warmth growing more intense.

The shirt was unbearably tight. seemingly shrinking with each step he took, the seams pulling more and more across his chest and shoulders. It clung to him like a second skin. He tugged at the neckline, but it did little to alleviate the discomfort, only shifting the tightness across his broadening torso. His pants, too, felt increasingly restrictive. The waistband dug into his hips, almost as if it was going to burst from his body.

His breath came in shallow bursts as the sensation intensified, the tightness only growing worse. Sweat pooled at his brow, dripping down his forehead and into his eyes, making his vision blur. He wiped it away absentmindedly, but it kept coming—his skin slick and damp with perspiration.

He tried rubbing at his shoulders, hoping to shift the fabric, but it stuck to his skin, refusing to budge. His hands moved to rub his scalp to calm him down. His hands ran through his dark mass of hair. His fingers sank deeper into the dampness of his thick sweaty locks.

His face itched with the heat, and he could feel the sweat beading along his hairline. He could see clearly once again as the sweat no longer dripped into his eyes: dark, thick, bushy eyebrows caught the droplets. He gulped, bobbing his large Adam's apple, the air in his lungs tight and labored.

Elliot could barely hear the crowd around him as he pushed slowly through. His sole focus was on how restrictive his clothes felt around his body. He needed to get his shirt off.

He ducked into a corner and clawed at the sleeves, peeling it from his arms and off of his body. The fabric resisted before coming free, leaving him only in the tight white tank top he’d worn underneath.

Elliot froze, staring down at himself with deep brown eyes.

His chest was massive, his pecs straining against the tank top. Thick, rounded shoulders and bulging biceps filled out his upper body, veins snaking down his forearms. His once-flat torso was now carved with a defined six-pack that pressed against the tight cotton. His pants were stretched tightly across his massive thighs, which were firm with strength and power. His massive bulge jutted forward, positioned between his tree trunk legs. A thick carpet of dark hair covered his chest and trailed downward, adding to the rugged look.

He ran a now-massive hand over his chest. The sensation of the firmness of his muscles, his huge body, his monster cock. They all felt foreign yet oddly natural.

People ogled him as he moved through the party again, their gazes lingering admiringly. Elliot didn't notice. The strange warmth had faded, replaced by a swagger that guided him through the crowd.

He spotted the man who had kissed him earlier, leaning casually against the bar, laughing and conversing with a small group of friends. The sight of him—his lean figure, sharp features, and playful smile—sent a fresh surge of heat through Elliot’s body. But this time, it wasn’t the anger and disgust that had taken hold of him before. It was something primal. His pants grew tighter as his cock hardened at the thought of the man’s touch.

Guided solely by his passion and without further deliberation, Elliot barreled through the crowd, his presence booming. When the man turned, his eyes widened in recognition, quickly followed by a gleam of admiration. The adoration and lust in his gaze were unmistakable.

Elliot didn’t waste another second: He leaned in, his hand cupping the man’s jaw tenderly and assertively. His lips met the man’s in a deep, passionate kiss. The man’s arms immediately wrapped around Elliot’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer, his body melting into the solid hunk of a man.

Their lips parted, and Elliot gazed longingly at his boyfriend. His timbre now alluring and husky voice, he let the words roll off of his tongue:

New year, new me!

[coco-loco-nut]

007

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: meeting your soulmate in the paddock isn’t unusual for F1 drivers, but oscar’s certainly leans on the unusual side

a/n: sorry if it’s a bit of the mess! i’ve been trying to write my way out of writers block

masterlist part two requests open

_____________

You are crazy, you have to be. At least, that’s what Oscar thought when he watched the mark on his arm change for the third time that day. You put yourself in more danger than he does, and that says a lot. It wasn’t always that way, not until five years ago when it became more and more frequent. The shared talent he gets from you is no help. Analytical and multilingual, you could be anyone. Based on how often you are in danger for long stretches, he is a little sure that you are a mobster. Being able to speak Russian and Italian fluently doesn’t help with the whole mobster thing.

You didn’t know what to think of your soulmate. At first you assumed he was a criminal, the meter on your arm only shifting to danger for a relatively short period of time for a few weeks. However, it has become regular, throwing you off. Maybe a weekend adrenaline junkie? No, probably organized crime. Besides, you are skilled at driving fast, and what adrenaline junkie has a talent for fast driving.

“We have intel that there will be a deal made at the Belgian Grand Prix. Both parties are guests of Sauber as to not draw suspicion. Everything you will need is in this file, a car will pick you up tonight, good luck,” you anxiously sit through your briefing.

You have been tracking a crime ring for the past year and a half, putting yourself in all kinds of compromising positions just to get information. Formula One though, that’s new to you. You have seen some things from former partners who followed it, but you weren’t interested.

It isn’t uncommon for crime groups to use large events for “networking.” It is under the guise of their shell companies. You studied your character ruthlessly, knowing your cover inside and out.

The race approached much quicker than you’d like. The situation isn’t helped by a weird feeling in your stomach. Not nerves, but something else. You shake it off, the mission is what is important. The paddock awaits, and you have a limited striking time.

Oscar was on edge. Something felt off, even though he went through his race routine like always. He did have a questionable pastry, but there wasn’t any mold, so it was okay. He slides his sleeve up, looking at the meter on his arm. Lando doesn’t miss how his teammate’s face paled.

“You okay?” Lando asks, trying to catch a glimpse of the meter on Oscar’s arm.

“Yeah, just realized I forgot to call my sister,” Oscar lies. He’s a little scared for the day he meets you. What kind of mobster commits crime on a Sunday? Maybe you got taken by an enemy, got caught sneaking around. Logan always told him that he was crazy for assuming his soulmate is a criminal, but all signs point to it. Some fresh air is what he needs.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” your target says as you flash a charming smile, anything to get information. It helps that the conversation is in Russian, adding to confidentiality of everything.

You feel a deep pull, like a yearning, as you agree to the walk. You brush it off, the mission is top priority.

“Can you provide some more benefits of the… investment,” you are a little unsure of what to call it. You are keenly aware of the weapons strapped to the side of your target. You weren’t expecting to be meeting with an enforcer, making the job trickier.

“Perhaps. I will if you can answer this question,” you feel your anxiety spike as you keep a calm and cool demeanor. The pull increases and it takes every ounce of will to keep yourself focused. You got most of the information you need, but you need to fish for more. You don’t really notice the target turning you into a quieter part of the paddock.

Oscar lets his feet lead the way, a little out of it. He doesn’t really notice you ahead, tucked in a relatively secluded alley of the paddock. He’s always been able to sneak around, a blessing in times like this.

“Who invited you to the meeting,” he asks, and you internally breathe a sigh of relief. Your team scanned through the information to make sure there was nothing included to trip you up, and this is something that was deemed clear.

“Peter,” you say a little too confidently, and that’s when you notice him reach for the knife on his side. You also notice the civilian looking at his soulmate meter rather than where he is walking, and at that moment it spikes further into the danger. The brief distraction is enough to put you at a disadvantage. You shove the stranger behind you, getting him out of the way as you. Sparks fly as you touch him, but you don’t pay any mind to it. Eyes trained on the target, you do everything you can to avoid being stabbed as you pull out your own knife.

Oscar feels a twinge on his arm and slides up the sleeve, looking at his mark. He feels himself get yanked, and he turns his attention to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He takes a few steps back into safety and watches. Every alarm bell in his mind tells him to run away, but he can’t seem to walk away.

You kick the knife away, quickly working to disarm the target and press him against a wall, your own knife to his throat. You subtly activate your tracker, getting discreet backup.

“Tell me who runs the operation. Now.” you snarl in Russian, slightly putting pressure on his neck with the knife. The target spits beside you, you press further. “I recommend you don’t mess with me if you want to be alive.”

The information you want comes flowing out as you take a little pleasure at the fear in his eyes.

“There, happy? Let me go,” the target says and you smile wickedly. Dropping your act now would only hurt you, so you let him think you are part of a rival crime ring.

“Not quite,” you flip him around so he is facing the wall. You sheathe the knife, using your weight to brace him to the wall. “It’s a shame I couldn’t spill some blood, oh well,” you play your role, speaking in a bored yet maniacal tone. Your backup arrives and takes over for you, arresting the target.

As the adrenaline fades, you remember the guy lurking behind you. You feel the heat of anger flare up. Couldn’t he see you were dealing with something dangerous? Why wouldn’t he turn around and walk away.

Oscar can’t help but feel happy that he finally has your attention, and if the pull he feels and the danger levels that his arm displays is any indication, he just met his soulmate. Plus, you speak multiple languages, who else would he get that from that’s in the immediate vicinity. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Are you stupid! What are you doing walking in on that? And sticking around? That was a very dangerous situation, you know,” you fume, not looking at him, too busy firing off angry texts to your commander.

“I was right, my soulmate is a criminal,” Oscar says, a little shocked.

“That guy was your soulmate? Tough luck,” you can’t help but laugh a little. You look at him for the first time and feel your heart beat quicken as every instinct is drawn to him.

“No, you are,” Oscar says as your eyebrow quirks, as if you don’t believe him. And you don’t believe him, it isn’t in your nature.

“Well, I’m not a criminal. Sorry to break it to you. Besides, I know that my soulmate is a criminal, so unless you have a dark side, you aren’t him,” you brush it off, still ignoring the intense pull towards the brunette who is creeping closer to you.

“But-“

“Look, I gotta go,” you quickly take a once over of him, ready to look him up when you are back to safety. You disappear almost into thin air, leaving Oscar confused.

“Oscar? What are you doing here? Is that blood?” Logan stares at his friend.

“I think I just met my soulmate,” Oscar says, a little flabbergasted. Now he knows where his talent for being stealthy comes from. He wonders if you got his driving ability.

“Right. That doesn’t explain blood. You know what, you need to get ready for the drivers parade,” Logan shakes his head, helping his friend get back on track.

Oscar Piastri. That’s who Google tells you that you encountered. He’s handsome, you will admit that. A quick research tells you everything you need. Your soulmate, in fact, was not a criminal. A minor win in your mind.

After your paperwork and evidence submission, you know you can’t return to Sauber, so you choose to walk around instead. A change of clothes and hairstyles helps to hide your identity.

You easily slip into the McLaren motorhome, it is a little sad how easily you have gotten past Formula One’s security. You wait in Oscar’s drivers room for him, feeling uncomfortable and nervous. You don’t like the feeling.

Your job is too dangerous for a soulmate, you’ve seen how devastating it is for those whose soulmate never returns from a mission. You couldn’t do that to someone, so why do you find yourself needing to see Oscar again.

Oscar feels the now familiar tug as he gets out of his car, and he’s never been happier to get P4. He makes his way to his room as quickly as possible, rush in through his post-race procedures.

“You’re here. How are you here?” Oscar sees you leaning against the wall of his drivers room.

“It is embarrassing how easily I can get past the security here,” you have a hint of a smile on your face.

“So, if you aren’t a criminal, who are you?” Oscar swallows, a little nervous. His only knowledge of you is that you are highly dangerous and semifrequently in danger.

“I can’t tell you that. Brilliant race today, maybe I will actually watch one for once,” you walk towards him, and he feels his heart leap in his chest. You slip a card into his hand as you head to the door. “Oh, and thanks for the driving skills. It’s gotten me out of quite a few situations,” you smirk, disappearing once again. Oscar looks down at the card in his hand.

Y/n L/n. Special Services.

In neat penmanship you wrote down a series of numbers, and a note to burn the card after saving the number. Oscar races to the window that overlooks the only exit of the building, but you had already disappeared into the crowd.

[literaila]

The way Gojo just meelllllttttssss over reader ahhh my heart can’t take it

“morning,” he whispers, in some kind of dream.

you’ve been awake for… at least a couple of minutes now. or maybe an hour. it’s hard to tell with the cheek pressing against your neck, the skin brushing against your jugular.

five years ago, you would be dreaming.

you would wake up all alone and think about things you weren’t allowed to—and then you would get up, happy to run away from that false reality.

though, now it’s here.

and maybe its just early. maybe you’ve made too much out of this, have a knack for melodrama.

but the way satoru is drawing circles on the skin of your arm, half of his body crushing you as he leans against it, makes you feel like maybe it is something.

“i’m sleeping,” you tell him, softly, even though you’re not.

“are you?”

“uh-huh.”

“so, i guess i should say a bunch of sweet things. since you can’t hear me.”

“guess so.”

you can feel him laughing against you, but you don’t open your eyes. “you’re very pretty when you sleep,” he tells you, a finger brushing against your forehead. “always scowling.”

you frown.

“see? so cute.”

“shh, satoru.”

“and you always smell nice. like.. candy, or something,” he smushes his nose against you, breathing in enough to tickle.

“that’s because you get your spit all over me.”

“have to mark my territory, baby.”

you snort, and squirm away from him.

satoru is grinning. you can feel his teeth. “and you make such interesting noises when you’re asleep, too.”

“hmm.”

“but what i really like,” he whispers, fingers trailing from your nose, down to your chin. “is when you wake up.”

satoru pauses, and you both sit there in the silence—it’s been a while since you’ve woken up like this.

maybe he can feel it too—that shift. some mornings are just different than others. some mornings you feel like you might cease to exist if he’s not right there next to you.

“‘cause then i get to hear your voice, see those pretty eyes. and i can stop saying all of this stuff because you already know…”

you hear the unspoken look at me in his voice, but you don’t.

satoru nips at your neck. “and when you wake up i can finally smell your gross breath—“

finally you turn over, pushing him away with a blind hand. “if you’re going to be a jerk, i’m going back to bed.”

he leans over you and kisses your cheek. “who’s the jerk?”

“nope. you ruined it. wake me up again in an hour.”

“c’mon, baby, you know i love your morning breath.”

you shake your head, almost falling off of the bed with the effort it takes to move away from his advances.

“aw, did i hurt your feelings?”

“as if,” you mutter, and ignore the easy way he pulls you back, moving you so he can see every flutter of your eyelashes once again.

“it’s okay,” he tells you, teasing. “i’ve got more to say so you keep sleeping.”

you almost peek an eye open, but refrain.

“i like it when you finally wake up because then i know that you’re actually here,” his voice grows soft, maybe a bit reluctant. “i used to think about this back in school.”

“you did?”

“i used to think about everything. waking up with you, going on missions, sitting in class, sparring. you’ve always been a constant distraction.”

youre still, maybe because you don’t want him to stop.

“you should ask shoko. she got tired of hearing about it, like, two months in.”

“you should get her flowers. as an apology.”

“i should, shouldn’t i? we can get you some too,” satoru leans back down, kissing right by your ear, smiling into your skin. “since i hurt your feelings and all.”

“mm-hmm.”

he breathes you in again. “i don’t think you’re real, really. i probably made this up. you know what yaga says about overactive imaginations.”

you lean into him, sighing. “i’m real.”

“are you sure?” satoru asks.

you open your eyes and he’s already looking back, smiling. so you smile too. “i’m sure. i’m right here, and so are you.”

“hey,” his eyes are wide and soft, his voice lithe and almost uncontrollable. “there are those eyes.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:22 pm]

Husband!Taeyong’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, deciding this would be a good time for a break from boxing up everything you both decided you were going to donate. His brows furrows seeing your name on his screen. Weren’t you in the house with him? Why wouldn’t you just come tell him instead of texting him? ‘You’re not going to believe what I just found!’ He read with a smile.

He heard your hurried steps on the hardwood floor of the hall and soon enough you were standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a bright smile and a colorful book in your hands. As you walked closer, Taeyong reached for you grabbing your hips to guide you to stand between his spread thighs. “What did you find, honey?” Taeyong asks, pressing a kiss to your arm.

“My diary! It’s got some entries from our first 2 years together!” You beam.

“Oooh, juicy stuff?” Taeyong asks with a quirked brow.

You clear your throat and crack the journal open, “this is from 5 years ago, ready?” Taeyong nods, but his mind is reeling, you guys didn’t know each other five years ago, what could you have written about him? Your voice interrupts his train of thought, “Today, I went to the cafe with Minho. While Minho and I were waiting for our drinks, the most handsome guy I’ve ever laid eyes on came up and started talking to Minho. I guess they took a class together a while ago. This guy didn’t look at me the whole time, but I think I’m in love. Who would ever believe that I saw a man this handsome in real life and not a magazine? Even though he didn’t look at me, I’m pretty sure I’m going to think about him for the rest of my life. Minho said his name is Taeyong. I’m writing this so I have some happy memory of a handsome guy to return to when I’m sad.”

You look down at your husband, “I guess I was a little dramatic, huh?”

“I don’t even remember that! What else do you have?” Taeyong asks eagerly. He wishes he could go back in time to introduce himself properly, he could have had a whole extra year with you. Ugh!

“This is from four years ago, from that dinner that Minho held. I wrote, oh my literal god! You are never going to believe this! The handsome guy from the cafe was at Minho’s party and he spoke to me! There’s like a whole row of exclamation points here,” both you and Taeyong snort out a laugh before continuing, “his voice was so gentle and his hand was sooooo soft when we shook hands. We made conversation about school and our interests. He told me he likes to make music and make art and I told him I’d love to see his work, talk about thirsty. He had a really cute smile on his face and I swear I saw him blush! He told me he’d like to show me and before the night ended we exchanged numbers. I think there’s a higher possibility of us falling in love now. I hope he’s not actually a creep.”

Taeyong pulls you into his lap as he laughs loudly, “I remember that meeting, thank goodness. I remember that you were really cute and shy. And that Minho can’t cook to save his life. I was really excited to text you after that, but I wanted to be chill.”

“I think I ended up writing that after a week of nothing from you I gave up hope a little. I thought maybe you were like a figment of my imagination or maybe I read into it too much,” you sigh as if you’re reliving the memories while turning through the now warped pages.

For a while, the two of you sit there in comfortable silence reading through your entries. He reads and laughs good-naturedly ay the entry that describes the anxiety before your first date in detail and in drawing. Half the page is a messy scribble of words he can barely read, and the other half is scribbles that he can very well imagine you screaming while you drew. There’s a whole page of scribbles and ‘ahhhhhh’ filling up the whole page after the first date/first kiss which makes him smile softly while pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

He finds himself holding you closer, his arms around your waist tightening as his eyes pore over the words of a three-page long entry that came after your first big fight. You’d tried to skip past this, but he pulled the book out of your hold. ‘Tonight, Taeyong and I got in our first fight and I don’t think my heart has ever hurt this badly. I just don’t understand why he left! All I told him was that I needed some space to think and he took that as me wanting him gone. He just turned on his heel and left! I just wanted like 5 minutes to gather myself! Why would he just leave?’ Taeyong’s thumb sadly runs over the obvious mark of a tear drop.

He remembered this fight, he could remember the reason, but he remembers the aftermath. He remembers all the work that came after so that you two could communicate effectively. He remembers promising to never walk away in the middle of the fight and to never go three days thought talking to you again.

He closes the journal as sets it beside him while pulling you into an embrace, “we’ve made it far haven’t we?”

“Yeah, now I don’t freak out like scared chicken before our dates,” you laugh into his chest.

Taeyong laughs deeply, “I meant our communication, but sure.”

“Taeyong, we’ve been together for like four years, of course we’ve learned to communicate. We’ve learned a lot of things about each other. Each and every thing I learn just makes me love you more.”

He furrows his brows, “you didn’t like it when I bleached my eyebrows.”

“Oh my god, yeah! That wasn’t a good look. I hated that!” You exclaim, standing from his lap to assess the work he’s gotten done. “You’ve done a good job so far,” you nod.

“We’ve done a good job so far,” Taeyong stresses.

“That was cute, but I meant the clothes, honey.”

[hjvi]

𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.

You’re sitting on the worn, overstuffed couch in Christopher’s basement, the dim light of a single lamp casting a golden glow over the room. The faint hum of his laptop sits in the background, but your focus is entirely on him. Christopher—your Christopher—is pacing, talking a mile a minute, hands flying in every direction as he tells you about some ridiculous idea for a YouTube video. To anyone else, he’d be this loud, fast-talking ball of energy, hard to follow and even harder to keep up with. But to you, he’s everything.

Ever since you were kids, you’ve known a side of Chris that no one else sees. To everyone else, he was the annoying kid who couldn’t sit still, who blurted out answers in class without raising his hand, and who was always two steps ahead of himself. But you—you saw the quiet moments. The times when he’d focus so intently on a drawing or a thought, his blue eyes narrowing in concentration, the world fading around him. You saw the way he’d bite his lip when he was nervous or how his hands fidgeted when he was trying to keep his energy under control. To you, he wasn’t just loud or impatient—he was a puzzle, intricate and endlessly fascinating. And for some reason, you were the only person who seemed to want to figure him out.

The two of you grew up in the same neighborhood, your houses just a few blocks apart. Your earliest memory of Chris is of him at a birthday party when you were six. He’d been the kid running around with cake smeared on his face, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. But later that same day, you’d found him sitting under the dining table, quietly drawing pictures of dinosaurs on the napkins. He’d looked up when you crawled under to join him and smiled, wide and genuine. “You like dinosaurs too?” he’d asked, his tone curious, his smile so warm it felt like sunshine. From that moment, it was like you’d known each other forever.

As the years passed, your friendship deepened. Chris was the only friend you ever needed. He was loud, sure, but he always made space for you. No matter how chaotic his energy was, he’d stop everything to listen when you needed to talk. It amazed you how someone so full of life could also be so present, so deeply invested in you. He’d lean back in his chair, hands still for once, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You’re seriously the only person who gets me,” he’d say, and you’d believe him.

When you were ten, the two of you made a promise. It was one of those silly, half-serious pacts kids make late at night when the world feels a little too big. You were sitting on his bed, the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling casting faint shadows. “If we don’t have anyone else by the time we’re, like, old—I dunno, twenty-five or something—we’ll just get married, okay?” he’d said, his tone light but his eyes sincere. You’d laughed and agreed, pinky-promising under the covers.

You never told anyone about that promise, but it stayed with you. Maybe because deep down, you’d always known there was something different about the way you felt about Chris. You’d always loved him, in one way or another. But it wasn’t until recently that you realized he loved you too—not just as a friend, but as something more.

It happened one night a few weeks ago. The two of you were sitting on the hood of his car, parked at the edge of an empty lot. The sky was clear, stars scattered across the black canvas above you. Chris was quieter than usual, his leg bouncing as he stared out into the night.

“Hey,” he’d said suddenly, turning to look at you. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you’d replied, your voice soft.

He’d hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. Then he’d smiled, small and shy. “I think I’ve been in love with you since, like, forever. You’re the best part of my life, you know that?”

Your heart had stopped, then started again, pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. You’d felt your cheeks heat up, and for a moment, all you could do was nod.

Since then, everything had shifted. You and Chris were still you, still the same two kids who had grown up together, but now there was something more. You’d found yourself leaning into it, letting yourself be vulnerable in a way you never had before.

But there were still parts of you that held back. Chris had always been so sure of himself, so full of life, while you had always been a little more reserved. You loved the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. You’d always been thin, your body a mix of sharp angles and soft curves, and while Chris never seemed to notice the things you picked apart about yourself, the insecurity lingered.

The evening in Christopher’s basement feels like every other moment you’ve spent with him, but there’s a new charge in the air, one you can’t ignore. The two of you are on the worn couch again, the soft hum of the paused movie barely audible in the background. His arm rests along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing the ends of your hair. It’s a small touch, one that sends warmth rushing through you.

Chris leans closer, and his voice is softer than usual. “You okay?” he asks, those piercing blue eyes of his locking on yours.

You nod, smiling at the way his concern seems to melt into relief almost instantly. He tilts his head, his messy hair falling into his face just a bit. “Good,” he says, his lips twitching into that familiar, crooked smile that’s always made your heart stutter.

His hand brushes your hair from your face, and for a moment, it feels like the world has slowed. He moves in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. The tension is palpable, hanging between you two, thick like a storm that’s about to break. The quiet pulse of your heartbeat fills your ears

You don’t remember who moved first, but suddenly his lips are on yours. It’s gentle at first, an exploration, a shared breath as if testing the waters. But as his lips press against yours again, firmer this time, something shifts. His hands slip behind your neck, pulling you in closer, tilting your head as his mouth moves against yours with more urgency. You respond in kind, your fingers finding the soft curls at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer still. His lips part slightly, and you follow suit, the kiss deepening as your breath quickens.

You kiss him back, feeling the heat of him spread through you. The world fades, and it’s just the two of you, the taste of him on your lips, the soft slide of his mouth against yours. You lean in, deepening the kiss.

His hand slips from your neck, trailing slowly down your body, fingertips brushing the edge of your shirt, and then—deliberate—he slides his hand beneath the fabric. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, his fingers warm against the bare skin of your waist. You feel him hesitate for just a split second, his touch lingering there, waiting for permission.

He pulls back for a moment, his breath hot against your lips. His eyes are locked on yours, searching for something, maybe reassurance, maybe a signal to continue. You can see the longing in his gaze, but there’s something else there too—a tenderness that cuts through the heat of the moment.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, his voice low and raspy, as if he’s afraid of pushing you too far, too fast.

You nod, your throat tight, but even in the dim light, you feel exposed—vulnerable in a way you’ve never been before. “Yeah… just… just slow down a little,” you say, the words coming out in a breathy whisper. You reach up, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt.

He nods, his fingers trailing down your arm before they find your shirt. With a sudden surge of confidence, he starts unbuttoning it, his fingers careful but sure. You can feel every movement, every inch of fabric that loosens, as if the small space between you and him is collapsing with each passing second.

As the fabric falls open, his fingers trace the curve of your collarbone, the heat of his touch spreading through you like wildfire. You shiver beneath his hand, but instead of moving away, he closes the distance again, kissing you harder, deeper, as though he can’t stop himself, as though the world outside the two of you has ceased to exist.

His lips leave yours, trailing down to your neck, and you gasp, feeling the soft press of his mouth against your skin. His hands move, carefully but insistently, exploring, learning the shape of you. You feel exposed, vulnerable—but with Chris, it’s different. It’s safe. He’s not rushing, not forcing anything; he’s savoring every inch of you.

You pull him back up to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him into you with a hunger that surprises you. He groans softly, pressing his body against yours, the heat of him intoxicating. Your hearts beat in sync now, and everything else—the noise, the world outside, the insecurities—fades into the background.

His lips move to your neck, kissing the soft skin just below your ear, and you shiver, your breath catching in your throat. He pauses again, his lips lingering there as if savoring the taste of your skin. His hands are now at the hem of your shirt, sliding it upwards, slowly exposing more of your bare skin.

You don’t stop him immediately. Instead, you close your eyes, letting yourself drown in the sensation. But when his fingers move lower, his touch now bold and unhesitant, you freeze. His fingers find the clasp of your bra, the small piece of fabric that is the last barrier between you and the vulnerability you’re feeling in this moment.

It’s not that you don’t want him, not that you don’t trust him. But something inside you shifts, a rush of uncertainty flooding you all at once. You swallow hard, the intensity of the situation pulling you back to earth. You place your hand gently on his chest, stopping him just as his fingers brush the clasp.

“Chris… wait,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

He pulls back immediately, his eyes wide with concern, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His brow furrows in concern, and his voice is low and steady when he speaks. “I’m sorry… I—I didn’t mean to—”

You shake your head, your fingers pressing lightly against his chest, grounding yourself. “No, it’s not that… it’s just—” You pause, looking into his eyes, seeing the question there. “I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

His shoulders relax, but his gaze doesn’t waver. He nods slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he processes your words. “Okay,” he says, his voice soft but certain. “That’s all you ever have to say, you know? I’m not here to push you into anything.”

You drop your hand from his wrist, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his hand lingers on your side, the touch no longer exploring but reassuring. “It’s not just that,” you continue, your voice shaky. “I—I don’t feel… good about myself. I know I’m too thin, and I just don’t—”

“Stop,” he interrupts gently, his tone firm but full of warmth. “Don’t do that to yourself, okay? You’re not ‘too’ anything. You’re you, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you glance away, feeling vulnerable under his steady gaze. But Chris isn’t having it. He shifts so that he’s kneeling on the couch in front of you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. “Look at me,” he says, his thumbs brushing the corners of your eyes where the tears threaten to spill. “You’re beautiful, m’kay? Not because of what you think you should look like or whatever you’re comparing yourself to. You’re beautiful because you’re you. And I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that if I have to.”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless. You blink up at him, and when he sees the tears falling, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m serious,” he murmurs against your skin. “You never have to explain yourself to me. I’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes. Because it’s not about me, or even this. It’s about us.”

You nod, your hands finding their way to his as they rest against your cheeks. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, that’s all.”

The two of you stay like that for a long time, the weight of the conversation settling into a comforting quiet. Eventually, Chris pulls you into his arms, shifting so that you’re both lying back on the couch. His hand runs gently up and down your arm, his touch soothing.

He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of your own emotions settle in the safety of his words. He’s not in a hurry. He’s not pushing you. And somehow, that makes everything feel better, more right. The tension that had been building between you two dissolves into something quieter, softer. You still feel the heat of him beside you, the pull of his presence—but now, it feels like something you’re ready to embrace, when the time comes.

And as the night stretches on, you both stay there, wrapped up in each other, waiting for whatever comes next. The promise of more—a promise that can’t be broken.

But as the hours tick by and the night grows colder, you can feel it: things are about to change. The future, unknown and full of possibilities, awaits just beyond the horizon.

And whatever it holds, you know one thing for sure: you’ll face it together.

Months have passed since that night, and the walls you’d so carefully built between the two of you are beginning to feel fragile—like old bricks slowly crumbling, piece by piece. With every moment you’ve spent with Chris since, the weight of the space between you has only grown heavier, more unbearable. There’s something in the air now, a shift that feels as inevitable as the tide. You can feel it in the way he looks at you, in the way his voice deepens when he speaks your name, in the way his hands linger on your body just a little longer than before.

The tension between you both has escalated, winding itself around every glance, every touch, every whispered conversation. What started as tentative steps into new territory—those quiet, soft moments—has gradually transformed into something more intense, more urgent. You’ve grown so close that it’s almost suffocating in the best possible way, each of you navigating the space between comfort and longing, between safety and desire.

You’ve taken things much further now. Your lips no longer linger at the edge of hesitation; they meet his with fervor, with want, with a fire that feels like it could burn through everything in its path. The warmth of his touch sends waves of electricity through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’ve learned every contour of his body, every curve of his smile, the exact way his lips feel against yours.

But none of it is enough.

You’ve built something with Chris, something you know is real, something you can’t imagine living without. But every time his hands trace the line of your back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin under your shirt, every time his lips leave a trail of soft kisses down your neck, it only leaves you wanting more. Not just his touch—not just the feeling of him beside you—but the intensity of everything he makes you feel, the wild, untamed yearning that has settled in your chest, burning brighter with each passing day.

It’s hard to put into words, the way it’s grown. The longing, the craving—it’s like a hunger you can’t ignore, can’t sate, no matter how many times your lips meet, how many times his hands gently pull you closer. You need more. You need him like you’ve never needed anything before. Your body aches for him in a way you hadn’t fully realized until now—until every moment you’ve spent with him has built to this crescendo, this pressure that you can’t push down anymore. It’s there when he smiles at you, his eyes full of mischief and sincerity all at once. It’s there when he touches you, his fingertips grazing your skin like a spark that could light the fuse of something you’ve been holding back for too long.

Tonight, the air feels thick with it. You’re sitting next to him on his couch, the soft hum of his laptop still present in the background, but it’s drowned out by the sound of your breathing, your heart pounding in your chest. The way his hand rests just inches from yours—your fingers brushing, the slightest touch—sets your pulse racing. Every movement he makes is like a promise, every glance, every small laugh, an invitation.

He shifts closer, his thigh pressed against yours, the warmth of his body radiating through your clothes. His arm finds its way around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side, and for a moment, you just lean into him, taking in the feeling of his proximity. But the moment doesn’t last long. You can’t ignore the way his lips linger near your ear, the way his breath fans over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft, teasing, “I’ve been thinking about this... about us... a lot lately.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes are darker now, filled with a mixture of warmth and desire that makes your heart skip a beat. He’s not talking about just the past few months of your friendship, not talking about the casual touches or the quiet moments where your hearts would connect in a way you never thought possible. He’s talking about something more, something that neither of you has fully embraced yet.

“I want you, m’kay?” he says, his voice rough around the edges, his hand sliding down to your waist. His fingers press into your side gently, but you can feel the strength in his touch. It’s almost as if he’s trying to hold back, trying to be respectful of the space you’ve both created over the months, but the desire is too strong now.

You breathe out, feeling your chest tighten as he leans in, his lips barely brushing against yours. The kiss is slow, deliberate, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that makes everything else fall away. His hand moves up to cup your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, and you feel it—everything you’ve been craving—crash over you in waves.

You’ve always known how much you wanted him, but this? This is different. This feels like a tipping point, a line you’re both about to cross. And as his kiss deepens, as his hand slides down to your back, pulling you closer, you know it’s no longer about holding back. It’s about surrendering to what’s between you, letting it consume you in the way you’ve longed for.

His lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You tilt your head back slightly, giving him better access, the pulse in your throat beating in time with the wild thrum of your heart. His hands move with purpose now, slipping under your shirt, his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach, sending a wave of heat rushing through you.

And then his fingers find the clasp of your bra. There’s no hesitation now. His touch is confident, sure. You can feel the pressure of his hand against your skin as he works at it, slowly and deliberately. But just as the clasp starts to loosen, you freeze. It’s not that you don’t want him—it’s that you feel yourself on the edge of something, something that makes you nervous but excited all at once.

You place your hand gently on his chest, stopping him. It’s not a rejection; it’s just… a moment of clarity. You pull back slightly, your breath ragged, and meet his eyes. His expression softens, and his lips curl into a small, reassuring smile.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle, full of concern. “I don’t want to rush you.”

You take a deep breath, nodding slowly. “I want this, Chris. I really do."

On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Chris’s side on one of the couches in the triplets party, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Chris was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.

If it hadn’t been for the incessant rap music Nick played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Chris, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Chris’s shoulder.

“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Chris quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.

“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”

You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.

Chris caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Chris turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.

“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.

“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Chrissy.”

“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.

He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of rap music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Chris’s knee between your legs.

It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Chris stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.

“Chri-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.

“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.

You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, Christopher, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Chris.”

That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.

You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.

Chris let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.

You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. He felt his throat dry, blue eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.

“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Chris was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.

As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.

“Chris, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.

He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”

You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, A sharp groan slips from your lips, the sound escaping before you can stop it. The sharp sting still lingers, a fiery sensation that makes every breath feel a little too heavy. You try to steady yourself, but the pain pulses with each movement, teasing you with its intensity.

You close your eyes, waiting for the sharpness to subside, the heat gradually fading into a dull throb. The tension in your body tightens, but you force yourself to relax, to let the stinging tone down. It’s a slow burn, a lingering reminder of just how real everything feels right now it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.

“Chris- Chris, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.

You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.

Your mind goes momentarily blank, a fog settling over your thoughts as his hand flattens against your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock. warm and grounding. The touch sends a ripple of heat through your body, and for a second, it feels as though time slows. Every nerve in your body seems to focus on the gentle pressure of his palm against your skin, pulling your attention to the way it feels—so intimate, so right. Your pulse quickens, your breath hitching as you struggle to gather your thoughts, but the weight of his hand keeps you rooted.

“Do you feel that, sweet girl?” His voice is low, the words curling around your senses, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s not just the question—it’s the way he says it, with that mixture of tenderness and something far deeper, far more possessive. His touch lingers, as if savoring the moment, and your body reacts before you can think. The fog in your mind grows thicker, swept away by the overwhelming sensation of him so close, so present.

“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.

Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.

All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.

The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.

“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.

“It felt perfect, Chris. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! I tried to make this accurate or at least how I envision virginity loss for Chris but feel free to correct me! I am very open to constructive criticism. I'm flopping very bad so I don't expect much interactions:))

taglist: @swagalicious260@watercolorskyy@coquettechris@lovesturni0l0s@christmastreecake@ellbowmacaroni@blog-luvdance@sophand4n4@meg4-matt44

NOT PROOFREAD!

[lipglossanon]

What If We Could

Best friend!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

A little more savory tier commission from @porcelainseashore and dedicated to AliBelleRosetta ✨

Word Count: 2404 (I’m not surprised at this point lmao)

Warnings: MDNI, neighbor Leon, crushes, jealous reader, light flirting, smoking, light voyeurism, teasing, half naked reader

proofread ✍️

↺ ◁◁͏͏ ll ▷▷ ⋮≡

Stepping out the back door, your breath mists in front of your face. The warmth of late summer has segued easily into the coolness of fall. You tug the sleeves of your overly big sweatshirt—one you stole from Leon although you can’t recall when—to make sure they don’t fall too low past your wrists. Thinking of your best friend brings a warmth—a tiny ember burning in your chest—and a soft smile to your face.

Looking over at his house, you're thankful for the millionth time that you guys ended up being neighbors. Stepping out into your backyard, you pick your way through the leaf-strewn path that runs between your yard and Leon’s. Glancing over, you take in the old oak tree with its tired rope swing that sits in the middle of both properties. 

It’s been years since it’s been used; musing to yourself, you think you must’ve been about eight years old when you quit playing on it. And the last time the swing was even used had to have been when you and Leon dared each other to swing as high as possible, then jump off. Wood smoke pervades your senses, and you breathe deep. It drags you from your reminiscing, focus shifting back to Leon’s house and, more importantly, to the open garage. 

Your fingers nervously rub across the mixtape in the front pocket of your hooded sweatshirt. Leon’s never had a bad word to say about your mixes, even letting you demo a few live in front of your home setup, but it always sends a frisson of nerves through you when giving him one—especially one you’ve made specifically for him.

Poking your head around the corner, you take in your best friend while he doesn’t realize you’re there. He’s frowning down at the engine, a smear of grease already staining the apple of one cheek. His fringe hangs low over his face, head tilted forward as he works on his Jeep. That low burning ember in your chest sparks to life. 

His blue eyes dart from part to part, mentally assessing his next move. His toolbox lies at his feet, lid flipped open and tools organized. Pushing off the side of the garage makes enough noise to draw his attention. A smile lights up his face when he realizes it’s you. 

“Hey! Didn’t think you were gonna come over today,” he steps away from the hood, grabbing up an old oil rag to start cleaning his hands. 

You shrug, “Didn’t feel like beatmatching today.”

You fiddle with the mixtape in your sweater before pulling it out. “Made you a new one.”

His eyes are soft when he walks over to pluck it from your hands. “Thanks. I think my last one is about worn out.”

He chuckles, and you grin a little bashfully. Throwing his arm over your shoulders, he guides you into the garage and over onto the ratty couch that’s been here forever. While you flop down onto the faded green cushions, springs groaning at the motion, Leon slips the new mixtape into his stereo. A heavy beat fills the speakers as he walks back over to join you on the couch.

“This one's yours?”

You nod, “I’ve got a few new tracks I’ve been messing around with.”

“Cool,” he relaxes into the cushions, head resting on the back. “Man, I’m tired.”

“Long night?”

“Kinda. Had to finish that paper for biology.”

Humming, you slip your shoes off and kick your feet up onto the couch. “I hate that class.”

He snorts, “Tell me about it.”

“Hey, Leon, I hate that class.”

He shakes his head at your sly smile, “Smartass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“What’re you? Five?” 

You laugh, and he huffs a breath that you know is covering his own amusement. He pulls out a nearly empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, smacking the bottom with his palm before working the last one out and slipping it into his mouth.

“Hey,” you perk up, stretching your legs out to prod a sock-covered foot at Leon’s leg. “I thought you quit.”

“I did,” he mumbles, lips pinched around the cigarette filter, hands patting at his jean pockets as he feels for his lighter.

Making a little hum at the discovery, he tugs it out of his left pocket, flipping the hinge of the zippo to spark the flint until a little gold flame appears. Cupping his hand, he takes a pull off the butt, snapping the Zippo shut with a flick of his wrist before blowing smoke from his nose. 

“C’mon, share,” you poke him again, and he clamps a hand around your ankle bone. Butterflies take flight in your sternum, insides fizzing like carbonated soda. 

It’s not the first time Leon’s caused this feeling. It’s something you’ve been avoiding by looking at too closely. 

“Say please,” he smirks at you, cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth.

You pout, and he runs his fingers underneath the hem of the leg of your jeans, calloused fingers brushing the skin. The fizzy excitement is back, bubbling in your sternum. 

“Please, Leon,” you murmur.

His eyes shift, the blue now a shade darker, while he plucks the cigarette from his lips. “See? How hard was that?”

Leaning forward, you take the filtered end and pull a drag off the lit cig. You both fall into a charged silence—not only sharing smoke, but a secondhand kiss with each pass of the filter between you two. Every now and again, Leon ashes the cigarette onto an old glass tray sitting on the floor. 

He keeps his hand loosely wrapped around your ankle the entire time, fingers mindlessly tracing across your skin. Feeling a little bold, you slip your other foot into his lap, and he hums. Giddiness at the action makes you a little lightheaded. 

He offers the butt to you. “Last one?”

You shake your head, “All yours.”

He takes one last drag of what’s left of the cigarette, then stubs it out in the ashtray. He lounges back on the couch, running his free hand through his hair.

“Actually.. what time is it?” He rolls his head to look over at you.

Squinting up at the silly cat clock on the wall, you read out the time. “You got a plane to catch?”

He rolls his eyes with a smile and gently pushes your feet off his lap. “No, I got a date with Heidi, said I’d pick her up at about six or so.”

Jealousy rears its green-eyed gaze and lasers you in its sights. The bubbly feeling from earlier sours, leaving confusion in its wake. 

“Oh.” The word slips from your lips quietly, softly. You thought they had broken up? Squishing down that nagging voice in your head, you clear your throat. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair then.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He stands up and holds his hand out to help you off the couch. 

“Of course, we’ve got history together.” You clasp his hand and let him pull you alongside him. “Don’t stay out too late.”

He chuckles and nudges you with his elbow, “No promises.”

Pretending that doesn't slice into your heart as well as buoys the jealousy sitting like a stone in your chest, you nod and step around him. As you head for the opening of the garage, his fingers tangle with yours and tug you to a stop. 

“Hey,” his voice is low and honeywarm when you turn to look at him. “Thanks for the music.”

He squeezes your hand gently, blue eyes searching your face. You can’t help but smile at him, squeezing his hand back. 

“You’re welcome, Leon.”

He grins, boyish and happy, then drops your hand to grab up his lighter and empty pack of cigarettes to stash them back in his pocket.

“Later!” He calls out, and you watch him head into his house through the kitchen door.

Cradling your hand to your chest, you walk back to your house, deep in thought with your tangled feelings. 

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Leon pulls into his driveway before the clock even strikes ten. He sits behind the steering wheel, eyes unseeing as he looks out the windshield. The date went off without a hitch; Heidi and he got along perfectly. But he couldn’t stop thinking back to you this afternoon. How you looked with a haze of smoke in the air, eyes glittering at him from across the couch.

You brought him another of your mixtapes, so shy and sweet—it’s cute, but he’s too chicken to ever tell you that. His heart lurched in his chest at seeing your face fall when he admitted why he had to leave early; it was telling in that you didn’t even realize you had done it. 

Climbing out of his Jeep, he digs out his new pack of cigarettes and decides to light one up before going inside. With his thoughts still on you, his feet take him around the side of the garage to the oak tree straddling the invisible line between your yards. He leans against the trunk, eyes flicking up to your bedroom window and almost choking on the smoke he blows out from his mouth on a sudden exhalation. 

The soft glow of the lamp on your nightstand bathes your room in a golden hue, fitting for the warmth mounting in Leon’s body. His eyes can’t stop taking you in, clad only in a loose shirt and sweats. He steps closer out from under the shadow of the tree to take a better look. You’re moving around your room, headphones over your ears, lost in your own little world.

Coming to a stop, Leon takes a long drag from his cigarette, slowly blowing out the smoke while he watches you dance around your room. You slip your sweats down and off, now only in your shirt and plain cotton panties. His heart pumps harder, pulse jumping in his neck. Leon knows he shouldn’t be peeping on you like this—knows he should turn around and go back home so you won’t think he’s some kinda pervert, but the temptation of you is too tantalizing. 

You bend forward to drop something onto your nightstand and glance up, locking eyes with him. Leon doesn’t move except to pull the filter away from his mouth to breathe out a smoke ring. You slowly stand tall, body language cautious. He’s close enough he can see you bite your lip, seeming to make up your mind as you tug on the bottom of your shirt.

He can’t stop the low groan from slipping from his lips; thankfully no one is around, when you slowly bring your shirt over your head and drop it into the floor. You stand there, like a vision, in just panties and a bra. He brings the cigarette back up to his lips to take a long drag. You tease your fingers underneath your bra straps, slipping them down one at a time. Leon’s heart is in his throat, eyes never leaving yours as you reach behind your back and undo the clasps. 

Once you bring your arms forward to let your bra fall away from your body, his eyes drop to greedily take in your bare breasts. Arousal pools in his gut while he stares at your soft peaks, your nipples hardening under his gaze. Cupping your breasts in your hands, you rub your thumbs over the tight buds, making him groan and run a shaky hand through his hair.

He drops the cig and stubs it out under his boot. Running his other hand down his thigh, he cups himself through his jeans, groaning at the pressure on his chubbed cock. He watches you bite your lip again, eyes fluttering when you lightly run your fingers around your areola before grazing your nipples. His palm presses harder onto his bulge, hips jumping at the dull pleasure. 

You smile at him, secretive and coquettish, bending forward again to pick up the shirt you dropped earlier. Leon bites back the disappointed groan when you pull your shirt back on, blowing him a saucy kiss before closing the curtains on your window. 

Leon shakes his head, arousal making his thoughts feel thick and slow. In a daze, he makes his way back over to his house and up to his own room. Deciding to take a cold shower before falling into bed, Leon knows that a line may have been crossed, and he’s not sure that he really cares.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Apparently it’s something neither of you are going to bring up. You were already seated in your usual spot when Leon came rushing in, minutes from the lecture starting. He shoots you his usual smile and a quick hello before pulling out his laptop and textbook. You frown at him, a quizzical pull of your brows, and he just winks. 

Shrugging a little, you turn back to the front of the class just as the teacher walks in, closing the door behind them. It’s silent between you two while the history lecture takes place. Once the lesson drags to a close, you wait for Leon to finish packing away his things. 

“You wanna grab an early lunch? I slept through my alarm and missed breakfast,” he grouses, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

“Sure. Anywhere specific?” You fall into step with him as you leave the classroom, skin feeling warm when your arms brush. 

“Where’s that place that you found last week?” He pushes the door open, letting you exit the building first. 

“Oh, it’s just around the corner. They’ve got a decent selection, sandwiches, wraps, and the like,” you purse your lips in thought, and Leon slips his arm over your shoulders. 

Butterflies swarm your stomach, and you give him a side eye. It’s not unusual for Leon to do it, but after last night, you’re unsure of where you stand with him. 

“Sounds good to me,” he yawns. “Damn, I gotta start heading to bed earlier.”

Neither of you say anything about why he was up late, and by the end of the day, it’s like some weird shared dream that you may have had—distant, yet the feeling remains. 

And except for the times when you catch him staring, it’s business as usual, so everything’s fine between you two… right?

[gabriellaeva2005]

I really cannot express how much this piece of work means to me! As corny as it sounds I really found this story at the perfect point in my life, I initially started reading the impulse 1995 comics when I was 14 and I ended up falling upon this story when I was 17 I just immediately fell in love! The concept was so creative and fit into the pre-existing plot line perfectly! All the new characters are so enjoyable to read, Nathaniel and Jude have such a wonderful and also sad dynamic, as a twin my self every scene with them just really hit me in the heart! Six especially in the first several chapters was so comically annoying and clearly insecure, in a way that I think a lot of us can relate to, one way or another especially when we got to here is internal monologue, I’ve always been a sucker for the asshole character with an air of insouciance and superiority, who by the end of the story, just ends up being a pretty all right guy! And Five oh my god five! I love this guy so much! he’s just so genuine and someone who clearly cares deeply, and him being technically the physically oldest in the room, but also being the one with the least amount of experience is a very literal take on an experience I think a lot of people have felt, myself included, And I think we all know I’m a Three apologist, his whole story is just so devastating and haunting, part of me is always rooting for him, whilst also being terrified for what he might do to the other characters, there is so much complexity with his relationships with the other characters, such as five and four, every time theirs a seen with three and four the writing always makes me feel so on edge and is really able to puts me in three’s shoes! And god! The way three and five interact is so sweet and sad there relationship is just too much! The last chapter absolutely destroyed me!! And Bart and Thad are so perfectly characterized it truly just feels like a natural progression of their characters, the way they both are just really struggling to deal with the inevitability of change hit me so hard, like I said I started reading the impulse comics when I was 14 so these characters have such a place in my heart, so now being able to read about them going through these struggles, when I was also experiencing a lot of change, is such a comfort to me, it was like in a way these characters got older with me, and you know it’s always nice to see some of your childhood characters going through the same stuff as you, currently being a slightly terrified 18 year old, it was great to be able to read about two other slightly terrified 18 year olds, anyways I wanted to post some of my sketches from the past few weeks, and don’t worry there are definitely more to come cause I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop drawing these guys!

@cryptocism you really sent me on a journey, thank you for that!💖💖

[srjlvr]

SEVEN ROYALTIES

“once upon a time there was a promised couple, that time made them realize that sometimes, promises can be broken” — yang jungwon

yang jungwon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers , promised to marry , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of food , pregnancy i think , maybe curse words (do lmk if i missed something!!) || NOT PROOFREAD !!

WORD-COUNT ; 5.5k+

NOTE. WOW!!!! can you believe how much time it took me to write this? i had an intense writer block and didnt know where to continue, lets not forget about my basically hiatus bc of school and etc.. im SO terribly sorry for taking too long, y’all clearly don’t deserve that!! also, riki’s parts are kind of mentioned? not so sure…

“ready?”

“i’ve never been ready-ier”

“that’s not even a word!”

“and who are you to decide?”

“stop fighting will you? it happens every time, unbelievable”

“y/n, jungwon, stop bickering, everyone’s waiting for you”

you took a deep breath and jungwon held your hand.

as you entered the big hall all you could’ve heard for claps and cheers.

“happy birthday!” they all said in harmony.

that’s right, you and jungwon celebrate your birthday together, as you were born at the same day within a few hours difference, he was born first.

it probably had something to do with your mothers being best friends.

the queens of other kingdoms being inseparable just shows everyone that you don’t have to be in rivalry to win a happy life.

when your mother announced her pregnancy, jungwon’s mother cried out of joy, saying that she too, is pregnant.

it was even more exciting to see both of the queens celebrate everything that has to do with their pregnancy together.

birthday celebrations has never been as big as your birthday, mostly because of the over excitement your mothers both felt and still feel.

as soon as they revealed the genders, it was like a sign for them, and even before you were born, you were promised to each other.

“y/n, meet jungwon” your mother used her sweetest voice as she introduced jungwon to you. you were one day old and the queens already made sure you know each other, even though you probably won’t remember it.

“you do realize they won’t remember it in five minutes too, right?” your father tried to bring her back to earth but she was already gone in cloud 9.

growing up was quite interesting you’d say.

your mom made sure to visit hybe kingdom every monday and thursday, and jungwon’s mother came to visit every tuesday and friday. it has already became a ritual for both you and jungwon.

“y/n! it’s time to go!” your mother called you while you were busy playing with jungwon.

“i have to go now, but i will see you tomorrow, right?” you asked him and he nodded.

“you already know you will”

there was nothing more touching than to see you and jungwon getting along and spending time together, your mothers were clearly the happiest.

not only that you got along with jungwon, you got along with each of his siblings, and he definitely had bunch.

“fancy seeing you here again, y/n” heeseung came and ruffled your hair.

“it’s like we haven’t seen you for years!” jake added.

“how have you been? we missed you” jay hugged you.

“you’re always playing with jungwon but never walk up to us” sunghoon pout.

“we’re just glad to see you again” sunoo smiled widely.

“y/n can i join you two?” riki asked

they were definitely your siblings as well, and you love each and every one of them.

“find your own y/n then! don’t steal her from me” jungwon would always argue with them and scoff.

you just giggled and gave each of them a hug before going outside with jungwon.

“don’t be too harsh on them” you said and he rolled his eyes.

“they’re just trying to tease me”

“they’re your siblings, it’s like, a part of them”

he rolled his eyes once again and started running around.

as you slowly grow up with each other, you were slowly starting to develop something special towards each other.

“drawing again?” jungwon caught you in one of your castle rooms you used to paint in.

you grew a lot of habits, and one of them was drawing. you were never really confident in them, but jungwon always complimented them and even took some of them to hang in his room, he kept you motivated.

“you already know” you giggled.

growing up together for thirteen years already taught you so much about each other, you knew his strengths and his weaknesses, and he knew yours.

“can you teach me some tricks?” he asked and you looked at him confused, “i want to learn how to draw too”

you nodded and prepared a new canvas for him.

“sit here and adjust your chair so that it’ll feel comfortable enough for you, your hands needs to be a bit bent but not too much” you ordered him and he did as you said.

“usually you just start with a few….” you started teaching him the basics and guided him through it.

“before you make that line, make sure it’s angled and…” you held his wrist and fixed his posture as well, “like that!”

you failed to notice his blushing cheeks as you were too focused on teaching him, but he was too busy thinking about how close you are.

“it was fun seeing you today! i’ll see you tomorrow!” jungwon waved you goodbye as he left.

you left out a big sigh as he left, lately your mind has been occupied by so many thoughts about the future.

“is something wrong dear?” your mother, who stood next to you held your shoulders and caressed them.

“i’m just worried about something” you pout and your mother bent down a bit.

“what is it?” she asked softly.

“what if me and jungwon will no longer be together like the way we are now? what if he’ll lose interest and……”

“y/n, honey, you and jungwon are promised to each other, no matter what happens you’ll always be together”

you and jungwon basically grew up into the fact that you’re promised to each other, your families barely even mentioned it because it was so easy to understand.

“you’re right, but what if…?”

“you’re too worried about something that will probably never happen!” she joked and you nodded.

right, you’re probably overreacting.

at age sixteen, your parents signed you up for a royalty high school, where the high society teens attended. and of course they forced jungwon’s parents to sign him up too, with the excuse of ‘it’s always better to have more education!’

“ready?”

“i’ve never been ready-ier”

“that’s still not a word” jungwon signed and you just giggled.

“before we get in the class,” you spoke and extended your pinky in front of him, “promise me nothing bad is going to happen between us”

“don’t be stupid, of course nothing will happen” he locked your pinkies together and laughed.

even though he laughed it out, inside he was scared for his life. he knows high school changes people’s personalities, and he was so damn scared that something might happen between the two of you.

he doesn’t care about losing everything else in his life, as long as he never loses you.

“please welcome y/n and jungwon!” the teacher introduced you to the classroom and you heard cheers and claps.

you released your hand that was holding jungwon’s and waved at your new classmates.

jungwon looked at you, confused with your actions.

“hello, i’m y/n, please treat me well” you smiled and they all clapped and cheered again.

“y/n please sit next to leehan” leehan raised his hand.

“oh but we—“ jungwon was about to ask the teacher to let you sit together but you were to quick to move away and sit beside leehan.

“hello, i’m jungwon” he introduced himself and the class cheered.

“jungwon please sit next yunah” the teacher asked and jungwon went to sit beside minju.

he was already starting to feel like nothing good is going to come out of this.

“hey y/n! let’s sit for lunch!” jungwon called you and you nodded happily.

“i told leehan he can join us too! can you believe i actually made a new friend?” you asked and he nodded.

he was really happy to see you happy.

“is that okay?” you looked at him worriedly and he immediately smiled.

“of course! i’m excited to meet your friend!!” he genuinely smiled and started walking with you.

he was about to grab your hand and hold it but noticed you were busy holding your books.

guess your holding hands’ agreement is starting to fall.

“i know nothing about this school, we almost got lost at the entrance” you joked and leehan chuckle as jungwon was busy overthinking.

“i’ll guide you whenever you want, just tell me and i’ll be there” leehan replied and you smiled.

oh how jungwon wished the be the only one who can make you smile like that.

lunch went amazing according to you, jungwon was too deep in thoughts to notice it anyway.

“won! i won’t be going back home together with you today, leehan invited me to his place”

“hm? oh, okay” he mumbled as he saw your excited look on your face.

you were so excited to get new friends that you’ve failed to notice jungwon’s weird actions throughout the whole day.

he’s been weirdly quiet, barely even had a normal conversation with someone.

“jungwon? why aren’t you eating?” heeseung, his older brother did manage to notice his weird personality shift, jungwon would usually eat and brag about how much he enjoys his meal.

“just not feeling too hungry” the younger sighed as his six other brothers looked at him.

“something is not right” jay whispered to heeseung and he nodded.

“are you sur—“ “yeah, i’m sure” he pierced his gaze towards them and left them speechless.

he’d never get into a person’s sentence.

“okay then”

the awkwardness was very much present after that.

“so y/n tell us, how was school?” your parents asked.

“oh it was amazing! i met a new friend, his name is leehan”

“leehan from (name of kingdom)?” your mother’s eyes widened.

you nodded and smiled, “he was actually being kind and sincere!”

“oh that’s amazing! i heard he’s a very much handsome guy, how come you’ve never seen him in any celebrations we go to?”

“don’t be silly honey, she always paid attention to jungwon”

“jungwon!”

“hm?”

before you even let them finish their question, you got up from your seat, “it’s late, but i need to go to see jungwon!” you hurried outside.

“you have a visitor” those four words managed to confuse jungwon, who in their right minds would come visit him at this hour?

“yunah?” he asked as he noticed the figure that was waiting for him in his garden.

“jungwon! i had to see you, even if its so late already” she smiled and got closer to hug him but he stopped her.

“what are you doing here at this hour? couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?” he asked, he can’t remember being so close to her to the point that she’ll be showing up in his place at this hour. they just met today!

“i…i just wanted to tell you that if you need any help i’ll be here to assist you, i’m really glad to have you as my classmate” this time she hugged him before he could stop and he just froze in his place, trying to process what was happening.

while yunah was busy hugging jungwon, and he was busy being so deep in thoughts and confused, you were there to witness it all.

you wanted to ask him about his day, to tell him how much fun you had with leehan and how you couldn’t stop telling him stories about jungwon, you wanted jungwon to be included in anything that you did, and with every new friend that you got.

you didn’t even want to interrupt their so called ‘beautiful moment’. you were so confused and too tired to even understand what was happening.

so you ran away back to your place, promising to yourself that from now on, you’ll take a step back from jungwon and let him live his life freely.

so what if you’re promised to each other? sometimes people can’t keep their promises.

“jungwon”

“hm?”

“what if we grow apart one day?”

“that’ll never happen”

“but what if it will?”

“i will make sure it’ll never happ—“

“what if it will?”

“i…..i will make sure to get us back together”

“what if i’ll end up hating you?”

“y/n what kind of—“

“answer me please”

“i will continue trying to get you back to me, even if you hate me”

“what if you’ll start liking someone?”

“i’ll get back to my senses, we’re promised to each other!”

“sometimes promises can’t be kept…..”

“hm?”

“never mind….”

“now tell me, why did you ask those questions?”

“i’m just scared to lose you”

“you’ll never lose me”

thinking about this old moment between you and jungwon made you chuckle in disbelief, you were right all along.

always trust your instincts.

“hey y/n!” jungwon called you.

“hi” you answered dryly.

“is everything okay?” he asked worriedly and you hummed.

“let’s go grab ice crea—“ “can’t, going out with friends after school”

“oh…okay”

it hurt like a bitch seeing his disappointed face, but he has yunah now, she can help him feel better.

“jungwon! didn’t get to ask how was your first day at school yesterday!” leehan smiled towards jungwon who sat across him on lunch.

“it was okay”

“how is it going with you and yunah? i saw the both of you getting really close”

you almost choked on your food hearing what leehan said.

“yeah she’s a great friend”

great friend my ass.

“i’d like to see where it’s going” leehan winked and jungwon returned to eat his lunch while you rolled your eyes.

slowly but surely, the days flew by, and with each day that passed, you and jungwon became more distant.

“where’s jungwon?” leehan asked as you were about to take a bite from your lunch.

“huh? oh, i don’t know” you shrugged.

for the first time ever since you started school, jungwon didn’t sit with you for lunch.

he got some new friends to sit with, yunah was one of them.

you also, got yourself your perfect friends circle, you became basically inseparable.

both yours and his friends, were there to witness how you slowly turn into strangers, and it scared them.

all of the students in the school knew each other, as everyone always attend to the same events and see each other. it was no wonder everyone knows about you and jungwon and how strong your bond is.

while everyone was busy chatting with strangers on big events, you and jungwon made sure to stick together no matter what.

it pains almost every student to be witnessing your sudden distance and awkwardness.

“hey honey! it’s been a while since we saw jungwon, are you both okay?” your mother asked, concerned as its been months since she last saw her best friend’s son.

“yeah mom, we’re always hanging out with our shared friends”

lying is not cool y/n.

“oh! well invite him here sometimes too! i miss my son” she pout and hugged you.

you just sighed in relief and hugged her back.

“i’m changing some seats arrangements, so each two students names i say will sit together” your teacher ordered and you sighed, praying that she’ll let you stay next to leehan.

“y/n and jungwon” your worst nightmare happened.

it’s not like you were enemies, the tension was just so awkward between the two of you.

as if nothing happened between you two before.

you took your bag and sat next to jungwon without saying a word. you failed to notice his sincere look on his face, he really misses you.

“with your new seats, you’ll be also getting a new project to work on in pairs, your partner will be the one who sits next to you” okay now you’re sure universe hates you.

jungwon cleared his throat before he spoke, “let’s start working on it tomorrow, you’re free to come to my place”

my place. it used to be ‘our’ place before.

“don’t worry about missing me! i’ll see you tomorrow at your place!” younger you smiled widely at younger jungwon as you waved goodbye to him.

“it’s not only my place! it’s yours too!! from now on its ‘ours!’” he said and you nodded.

“same about my pl— our place!” you giggled.

whenever one of you would invite the other, you’d use the term ‘our’ place.

now jungwon said his place, and it suddenly felt so cold and distant.

you slowly nodded and walked away.

jungwon watched you as you stepped away, he wanted to add more, he wanted to tell you he misses seeing you at his place but failed, something was stopping him from doing so.

“y/n dear it’s been a while since we saw you! i feel like i’ve seen yunah here lately more than you!” jungwon’s mother welcomed you with open hands, “better keep up the competition” she teased and winked, knowing no matter what, you and jungwon will end up together anyway.

it wasn’t the same for you though.

“he’s in his painting room, only god knows how he’s the only one who managed to keep his habit” she’s referring to your old habit of drawing. if it wasn’t you who taught him your few tricks he probably would’ve find interest in something else, but something in painting just drew him to it.

you on the other hand stopped with your little habit, choosing a new one to entertain you.

you knocked softly on the door, and you heard a loud thud sound, “is everything okay?” you asked.

“yeah….” you heard a faint voice and relaxed as he opened the door.

his hair was a bit messy and curly, and you could see the paint stains on his face as he tried to wipe them off. he looks so cute.

“hey” you called, “hey” he answered.

“um, we said we’d work on the project”

“oh right, um” he sighed, “just wait in my room i’ll get cleaned up”

you nodded and instead of going to his room you roamed around.

“y/n!” you heard a voice calling you, you looked behind you and saw riki smirking at you.

“what a surprise” he said, “we haven’t seen you here lately”

“yeah, school has been really stressful, but we’re hanging out together after school with our shared friends” you lied again.

“y/n i thought we never keep lies in our family” he glared at you.

him being younger than you doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be scared of him.

this troublemaker is terrifying.

“i’m sorry?”

“y/n! i’m so glad to see you” heeseung came to rescue and hugged you tightly, “we all missed you, can’t stop talking about you”

he was glaring at riki and signaling him to go away while you were busy hugging him so you didn’t even notice.

riki rolled his eyes, “um, i have some arrangements to make for my birthday, so i’ll see you around”

you nodded and continued hugging heeseung.

“how have you been?” you asked

“oh you know, dealing with one specific person”

“huh?”

“not something you should worry about”

“y/n?” jungwon came back and heeseung winked at you as he got the clue and walked away.

“i was on my way to your room when i got stopped by riki”

jungwon nodded, although both of you know very well that the place you’re in isn’t even on the way to jungwon’s room.

“so let’s part the project and each one of us will do their part instead of always working on it together” you suggested.

“i can get leehan’s help—“

“no we can work on it together”

“it’s really fine—“

“we need to work on it together so we’ll understand each other better” he raised his voice a bit and you were taken aback.

“you’re right” you mumbled and nodded.

a few hours passed since you started working on the project together, and the only words you exchanged were words about your project and nothing more than that.

you miss being with him and hanging out with him, but not like that.

“why don’t you stay for dinner y/n?” his mother asked as it was already late.

as you were busy staring at her, jungwon glanced at you, his eyes full of hope that you’d say yes, he missed this.

“i can’t today…i promised my parents i’ll eat with them today” you respectfully declined the offer as you were lying through your teeth.

your parents were on duties and you’d eat your dinner alone today, you were just too afraid that once you stay for dinner, you won’t be able to leave. you will never want to.

“alright darling, i really enjoyed seeing you, come here more! i know school is stressful but we’d really like to see you”

you gave her a hug and went away.

“oh right jungwon! you need to start getting ready to your brother’s wedding, it’s in a few days and nothing is ready yet!”

jay’s wedding is coming closer and closer, jungwon would once again will have to be introduced to other princesses, although everyone already knows who's the person he’s going to marry.

he just nodded and went back to his room.

when he entered his room, he noticed you forgot your bracelet as you put it down to be able to write better.

he sighed loudly, knowing he’d have to give it to you the other day.

you and jungwon rarely talk in school already, it’ll be very awkward to do so but he knows he has to, the chances of seeing you outside of school are low.

“here, you forgot it at my place” he mumbled as he handed you your bracelet at lunch in front of your friends.

they started whispering and gasping as you cleared your throat, “thank you” you quickly took it and put it on your hand again.

he nodded slightly and walked away back to his friends.

“what was that?” one of your friends asked.

“nothing” you mumbled and stuck a spoon in your mouth.

“oh you look so pretty! i pity all the princes you’re about to meet, they don’t know yet that you’re off the market” your mother clasped her hands and smiled.

being introduced to other royalties as creating a curiosity and maybe getting the chance of finding a partner was very common around your age, your and jungwon’s parents didn’t want to tell everyone the great news of their promised children, and chose to keep business as usual.

you nervously smiled and sighed, this is going to be a long night.

“oh y/n, you’re so pretty!” jungwon’s mother hugged you tightly and complimented you more than you could ever imagine.

“thank you” you did you curtsy and walked away after she told you to search for jungwon.

you didn’t actually search for him, you took one glass of champagne and stood next to one of those high tiny tables that were only big enough to hold your champagne cups.

“fancy seeing you here” you heard a voice really close to you and as you looked to your left you saw leehan.

“you scared me!” you playfully punched his shoulder and he giggled.

“you look very beautiful today” he said.

“so i look ugly in any other day?” you teased and he quickly shook his head.

“today is just, special”

you hummed and took a sip of your champagne.

“i’m actually surprised you noticed me in such event, usually you’d be around jungwon all night” he joked and you chuckled, “yeah”

“oh y/n we’ve been searching for you!” your parents called and you excused yourself from leehan.

“meet prince sohee from (name of kingdom)!” they introduced the prince who looked like he was younger than you by a few years.

his round eyes and soft gaze made your cheeks heat up. he was one of a kind prince and no one could deny his beauty.

“nice to meet you, i’m y/n” you did your curtsy and he kissed your hand.

you were so busy being introduced to and introducing yourself with your parents to notice someone’s eyes were on you the whole time.

before the wedding started his mother reassured him that the princes you were going to meet today meant nothing as you were promised to him, so why was he feeling so unconfident about it?

sohee’s visuals are no joke, out of all the princes here did they have to choose him?

he wanted to look away but his eyes refused to do so, so he was witnessing everything until it was over.

he wanted to leave, imagining so many scenarios about you asking to break the promise so you could marry sohee.

“jungwon! come here son!” his mother called and he knew it was his time now.

revenge time.

“meet princess yena from (name of kingdom)!” his parents introduced her as he took the back of her hand and kissed it.

he smiled widely as he introduced himself, knowing another pair of eyes might be watching him.

as you returned to leehan after the introduction, he began telling you stories about seeing you and jungwon always together.

you were too busy looking at jungwon staring deeply in yena’s eyes, as if he just saw the prettiest princess in the hall.

leehan’s words became faint as you focused only on him.

the way he looks at her, the way he treats her, they’ve only met but it feels like he knows and been in love with her for years.

tears threatened to fall from your eyes as anxiety washed all over you.

“are you okay—“ “excuse me leehan”

you bowed formally and went to one of the balconies to let it all out.

“come on! no one would find us here!” younger jungwon dragged you to the balcony as you were scared to get caught.

“it’s so boring! listening to their conversations, ‘blah blah blah’” he mocked the elderly as you laughed.

“are you sure no one is going to find us?” you asked nervously.

“y/n we always sneak out to this place and never get caught”

one of the reasons you and jungwon only had each other is because you’re always sneaking out to the balcony instead of interacting with other people.

you’d usually get some snacks and sit together in the balcony to play some games and laugh about anything until you felt like it was the right time to return.

you spent so many beautiful memories in this balcony.

thinking about these old memories made your eyes tear up even more.

you miss everything about the two of you, how did it get to the point that you’re crying in the balcony you used to laugh until your stomach hurt?

“take this” you stopped whining and looked at the hand that handed you a tissue.

you looked up to see riki.

“thank you” you took the tissue and wiped your tears.

“i better get going before i—“ “RIKI!!!!”

“it’s my cue to leave, sorry” he pat your shoulder and ran away.

your relationship with riki was complicated, this boy was scary as hell, that troublemaker did cause lots of problems to his family, but you always made sure to join his antics sometimes.

as scary as he is, he cares about you a lot, you basically raised him together with jungwon, you’re one of the few people who showed interest in him and actually played along with him.

you wondered if he’ll ever find the right one for him.

“you’re not so pretty when you cry, you know?” you looked behind you and this time you saw sunoo standing there with a smile.

“maybe i don’t want to be pretty” you mumbled and he giggled as he took a few steps closer.

“how have you been?” he asked.

“okay” you dropped your glance to your hands, one of the habits that sunoo noticed you do when you lie.

“you already know that i know that you’re lying” he replied.

“it’s complicated”

“i know”

“it really is”

“let time do it’s thing, he misses you too” sunoo rubbed your back, “i need to go now, wipe those tears away and change them into a smile”

you did as he told as he got inside the hall again.

you sighed heavily, does he really miss you?

sunoo said it probably to let you feel better about it.

you decided to walk around the place, avoiding the hall at any cost.

curiosity took over as you stood in front of his painting room, what was he doing there last time you came?

you opened the door and was welcomed by the smell of overused paint brushes and an aroma you can’t really describe.

you looked around the room and was amazed by his paintings, he really is a better painter than you.

you looked over to the canvas that was on the stand, probably an unfinished project of him.

if there’s one thing you noticed as soon as you took in all of his paintings, is that he always had a specific figure in them.

whether the figure was standing, running in the rain, sitting at a bus stop, it’s always the same one.

as you moved closely to the canva, you noticed the figure from close, the figure was playing the piano, the details about the piano were so familiar to you, and the room the figure sat in looked exactly like something you’ve already seen before.

“what do you think?” you askes jungwon as you finished playing your favorite song on the piano.

after painting you moved to studying piano, you fell in love with the sound it made when you softly pressed the keyboards, and the melody it created.

being so excited about it, a day before you started your school, you sat jungwon next to you and showed him your finished project, create a new melody.

instead of being focused on the melody, jungwon was focused on you.

you were busy pressing on the keyboards and enjoying the music it makes while jungwon was busy looking at you and observing what he sees.

god, he was so in love with you.

then it finally kicked you, the figure in the painting is actually…..

“what are you doing here?”

you turned around to see jungwon standing nervously.

“jungwon….” you whispered, “is that me in those paintings?”

“what?” he asked, cursing himself for his unstable voice.

“is that me?” you asked again, he really hoped you’d drop it.

“yes” he answered softly and sighed.

tears started streaming down your face, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry..”

jungwon noticed your tears and moved close to wipe your tears with his thumb.

“why are you apologizing? you did nothing wrong”

you stared into his eyes and burst out into more tears, “the school, the new friends, us growing apart, and yunah that damn—“

“okay okay okay” he calmed you down and kissed your forehead before hugging you.

“i was so sure you’re angry at me” you whispered.

“angry at you? why?” he asked.

“the first day of school, it’s been a mess”

“oh, that” he chuckled, “can’t say i wasn’t angry, maybe a little? but i was more jealous”

“jealous?”

“yeah! you basically spent the whole day with leehan, what about me?” he scoffed.

as he still held your waist tightly and never broke your eye contact, you playfully punched his chest, “i wanted you to be friends with him too! at the same night i went to tell you about that and ask you about your day but—“ “you probably saw yunah….”

“yeah…”

he tucked your hair behind your ears and pecked your lips, “she means nothing to me, her hugging me meant nothing to me, she tried being a good friend and i let her do her thing because i wanted to make you jealous” he giggled, “now i realize it was a big mistake”

you pecked his lips again, catching him off guard, “big, big mistake”

“i missed you so much” he said, “missed holding you in my arms, spending days and nights with you, hearing your parents’ bragging about how big our wedding is going to be”

“i missed everything about you” you hugged him again and he hugged back.

“promise me something like this is never going to happen again” he said, “i was so scared to lose you”

“i promise, it’ll never happen, i’m yours”

“i love y—“

“there you are!! finally oh my god what took you so long!” sunghoon, jungwon’s older brother said as he found you and jungwon closer than ever to kiss.

“well? are you going to kiss?” he added.

“get out!!” both of you shout as he closed the door.

riki’s birthday party came in no time and your parents decided to announce everyone about your future wedding as well.

“we’d like to announce you that our y/n and jungwon are promised to marry each other!” your parents clapped, “when they grow more old of course!”

“who cares lets goooo!!” riki took the spotlight and raised a cup acting as if he’s drinking real alcohol.

cheers and claps were heard, some even smiled widely and wished the both of you happy future.

“hey y/n” jungwon called you and squeezed your hand that was holding his.

“hm?”

“thank you” he smiled, “for willing to spend your future with me”

“i’m yours jungwon, forever and ever”

“and i’m yours, forever and ever”

“god why so cheesy?”

“riki shut up!”

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Mine - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI Fluff & Angst

JJ x KookExGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: language, name calling, child birth and it’s side effects.

📖 JJ’s ex is pregnant and the baby is his 💕

5k

Reader’s POV:

JJ has come by every day since the breakup, never at the same time. His beautiful blue eyes still find a way to catch mine. I iced him out completely, ghosting him only a few weeks after we made it official.

We had been pining after each other for years, rushing into everything when we finally got what we both wanted. We never once thought about playing it safe, fucking raw in the back of his Bronco that night, and every chance we got after that. We couldn’t get enough of each other… Every time we were alone, our hands were on each other, clothes thrown across the room, tangled up in sheets.

“Fuck that,” was the last thing I heard him mumble to John B before he and his friends disappeared for weeks. They talked about hooking up, girlfriends, and how the last thing they want to deal with is a pregnant one after John B. and Sarah had a scare of their own. ‘We’re too young. They’re too expensive. I’m not ready for that shit. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? There’s no way in hell’.

And here I stand.

Nine months and five days along, hiding it from him because, at this point, I’d instead go at it alone. I didn’t know where he went, and when he came back, something had happened. I could tell something was going on with him and Kiara. The longer I was away, the closer they got. He seemed happier with her. I can do this myself… even though I don’t want that. Not at all.

He still calls me from time to time. Usually late at night when I’m already asleep. JJ doesn’t always leave a message, but when he does, it’s a jumbled mess of drunken words.

I’ve shut out all my friends. The only people that know are my parents and the little old lady next door. They think it’s some random tourists. My parents kicked me out on my ass after I decided to keep the baby. 'You think you’re so grown? You think you can handle this pinching pennies? What kind of life is that?’ They gave me up that day. 'If you want to act like trash, you can live like trash.’

But who’s the actual trash here?

As much as I wanted to return to my simple life, I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t bring myself to get the abortion they were more than willing to pay for. I went from a Kook to a Pogue in a matter of seconds. And, at my twenty-week appointment, when I saw that little boy in my tummy, I knew I made the right choice.

I snagged an office job pretty fast: a beautiful spot, a real-estate agency close to the beach. The clientele is great, Pogues with just enough money to hire someone to sell their little shacks instead of doing it themselves. Work, community college, sleep, rinse, and repeat. I’ve saved enough to buy a crib and some basics… Stopping by the thrift store just off Figure 8 to nab some Kook’s hand-me-downs. I want to give this little boy the life he deserves… I want to prove my parents wrong.

I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after the baby is born, rushing to plunge that silver spoon straight into his mouth and 'save him from all this.’ But, come to find out, this life saved me. An existence under their thumb is not where I wanted to be. I don’t want to raise a Kook. I want to raise a Pogue. I just wish I knew what I was doing. I really wish I had Jayj.

You look out the large front window, watching as he passes by, surfboard looped under his arm as he steps toward beach access. His eyes drift your way, turning ahead before he disappears again. Shit. You look down at your stomach, watching the baby turn, your round tummy rolling with the baby’s movements.

Like clockwork, you’re hit with a braxton hicks contraction. Your belly squeezes taunt, breathing strained, causing you to draw little breaths, blowing them slow. You look up at the wall, watching the clock strike 5. Yes. Grabbing the armrest, you struggle to stand, pressing yourself up. You waddle toward the door, turning the open sign to close before nabbing your keys.

The warm summer air kisses your skin as you pass through the door; the sunset paints the sky in the west. Fuck. Your stomach contracts again, a contraction so intense you have to grab the brick wall for support, eyes screwing shut as you breathe through it again. “Hey…” Your heart sinks, eyes flashing open as you meet JJ’s wide gaze.

“Hi,” you force the word through tight lips, still clutching the wall.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. JJ’s stare falls down your body, landing on your bump, your hand cradling the bottom out of sheer practice.

“M'fine,” you whimper as you turn quickly, clipping toward your shitty little car before he can ask anymore, tears brimming in your eyes.

JJ’s POV:

I watch her car slow-roll over the speed bump, steering through the parking lot into her tiny carport. My muscles are tense; emotion pooled in my eyes as I watch her battle to get out of her car. I know she’s pregnant. I didn’t ask. It was the first thing I wanted to blurt out. Even though my dad’s a grade-A asshole, he still taught me that shit ain’t polite. I just didn’t think she would disappear that fast. She grabs the handrail, heading up the steps, pulling open the apartment door before falling out of sight.

Everything was fine until I left… And, when I came back, she was gone. She fuckin’ vanished, dropping me for no one, from what I’ve seen, at least. She’s shut herself in completely, never coming out.

I couldn’t help but check on her every chance I got. Make sure she’s okay. I should have known something was off. Her family’s loaded. There’s no reason that Kook Princess should be hanging out around here. She should be off at some fancy-ass college, living the dream. The second I saw her in that office, red flags should have been waving left and right, but they didn’t.

She didn’t want to talk. I could tell… The look in her eye was enough to let me know to stay the hell away. That, paired with the fact that she never called me back. Most of the time I wasted… I can’t lie. It was probably for the best. But she saw my number and chose to ignore it; decided to leave it unanswered. Somethin’s goin’ on… Maybe she’s gotta new boyfriend. There’s no reason why she’d be here otherwise… Unless there’s more to the story. 

Maybe all this is 'cause I told her I loved her. I don’t know, but that’s the last thing I said before I left. And I still feel it. I still love that woman. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready, and I left, and she started to second guess everything. I mean, how could she not? I vanished, then she did… Can I really fault her for doing the same exact shit?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My body jumps, chills running down my spine as headlights flood my rearview mirror. Goddamnit. I’ve gotta make a decision, in or out; am I gonna do this or not? I stomp on the gas, speeding ahead, barreling away as my tears break free.

She was a good girl before she met me. I wasn’t a virgin, but she was. She gave that to me. I don’t think she was sleeping around with anyone else.

That baby’s mine. I know it.

Reader’s POV:

DING.

You drag your body over to the microwave, snagging your TV dinner. The apartment is quiet, just the lull of the evening news playing in the background. Plopping down on the weathered couch, you snag the remote, flicking through the channels aimlessly until you find your comfort show, snuggling in a little more as you swirl your spaghetti on your fork.  

Grabbing the remote, you turn it a little louder, trying your best to drown out the thoughts raging in your head. The interaction with Jayj, the horror in his eyes, the way you left, fleeing the scene altogether. I miss him. Every part of him. God, he is so fucking beautiful. Those goddamn eyes, and that perfect face, his voice. I - DRIP. DRIP.

You look between your thighs, a wet spot gathering on your sweatpants, dribbling onto the floor below. You pinch the bridge of your nose, expiring a frustrated breath. As if this day wasn’t mortifying enough, let me add pisses your pants to the list… You close your eyes softly as a tinge of nausea sets in as well.

Maybe if I take a shower, I’ll feel better… You rise to your feet, liquid continuing to trickle its way down your leg.

Shit…

Is this it? It wouldn’t be far-fetched. I’m past my due date. Did my water just break? You feel your bottom lip wobble, muscles stiffening as you face reality that that might be the case.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You look down at your soaked pants. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“One sec, Dot,” you call out for your neighbor.

“Umm… Hey. I-It’s JJ,” you hear his muffled voice behind the closed door. Everything stops; your body, frozen as you watch him through the little kitchen window, just a crack of sight through your curtain. No. You shuffle toward the bathroom, clutching your stomach, a new sensation of emptiness you hadn’t felt before.

“Ow… Ow… Oh my god,” you gasp, holding the bottom of your stomach. “It’s fucking happening… No. Fuck!” You scream, another contraction rocking you. The soft knocking turns into a loud bang. “Let me in, y/n. P-Please. Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You grip the doorframe tightly, trying to center yourself, to no avail. The room starts to spin around you, stomach churning, mouth salivating. Am I going to throw up? Why am I gonna throw up? You trip slightly on the rug, falling to your knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the toilet.

“Y/n?” JJ yells as he frantically fiddles with the doorknob, knocking at the glass trying to open that as well.

“Ja-” You go to answer, letting out a cough instead, emptying your stomach into the bowl. Then you hear it: metal on metal as the doorknob twists.

“Y/n?” JJ stutters, his boots bounding toward the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” you cry as you see a look of sheer panic in his eyes. “Why are you here?” You whisper.

“I-I… Umm… I don’t know?” He spurts as he moves a little closer. “Do you want me to c-call your parents?”

“No!” You shout. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want them here,” you yell. JJ’s eyes open wider.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, Jayj. Don’t apologize.”

He kneels close, rubbing your back softly. “Did you need me to clean up out there for you? Do you want me to get you a new pair of pants? Or maybe a glass of water? A rag? You want a rag? Yeah?” You throw up in the toilet again, causing JJ to release a sympathetic gag.

“Jayj… you can’t do that,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. M'sorry, y/n,” he sighs, trying to compose himself. “Here.” He grabs a scrunchie off the counter, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

“Thank you.” You grip the toilet tightly, trying your best to calm down, but it’s simply momentary. “Fuck,” you howl, your pain wrapping around your back to your front.

“Y/n, s-shit,” JJ whimpers, dropping his head in his hand. His own personal panic setting in. “Are you - fuck,” JJ tries to speak, but the words aren’t easy. “Are you pregnant?”

“Is that not clear, Jayj,” you cry. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to go to the bathroom, JJ!” You scream, voice bouncing off the walls as you feel pressure building between your thighs.

“O-Okay. Of course. Do you need help standing?”

“Will you get me a bucket first?” JJ nods at you rapidly. You let out a loud cry, whole body pain, indescribable hurt. “Fuck!” You scream.

“Should I call 9-1-1?”

“The bucket, JJ. Please!”

“Okay. Alright. Sorry. S-Sorry!” he panics, running out of the bathroom. You hear him bang around in the kitchen, talking himself into a frenzy.

“Grab anything, JJ! Please!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ. It’s fucking hot in here.” You rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side.

“This! Okay… This will work,” he cheers breathlessly, running back into the bathroom with a pot. You quickly tug your pants down, taking a seat on the toilet. You draw the pot under your chin, breathing deeply.

“Fuck… this feels so much better.” You moan, feeling slight relief in this new position. A new heat rises in your cheeks, humiliation brewing as you feel the weight of JJ’s gaze on you. The last night he saw me, I was in a paisley sundress, his arms around me, lips locked on mine. I felt beautiful. JJ always made me feel that way. He told me he loved me. That girl. Not this one. I can’t believe he’s seeing me this way: tummy round, naked, sweaty, sick, and in pain. All I can do is cry.

JJ walks over, kneeling before you as his beautiful blue eyes search for yours. “Y/n, we gotta get you to the hospital. Okay?” His voice is gentle and calm. JJ tucks some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear as you match his watch. You can see his eyes getting glassy; he’s also completely and utterly overwhelmed, still trying to stay calm for you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mewl.

“Hey, s'okay. You’re gonna be alright. We just gotta go, baby.”

Baby. The guilt hits you next, hard and fast. How would I feel if roles were reserved? How would I feel if this secret was kept from me?

“JJ… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

JJ swallows thickly; the tears pooled in his beautiful blue eyes break free as he looks back at you. “The baby’s mine?” He fights the words past his lips.“This is amazing… I just - I. Fuck. It’s okay, honey. But, why - Why wouldn’t you just tell me, y/n?" He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken with emotion.

"I didn’t want to ruin your life, Jayj. We had just started dating-”

“Ruin my life? Why would this ruin my life?” He cuts you off in disbelief. Your muscles tighten, a sharp pain radiating as you try to remain in the moment with him. You can see his face change with yours, seeing the pain in your eyes. “Let’s go. Let’s get you to the hospital,” he whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek, the other set lightly on your tummy.

“I can’t move, J,” you whimper.

“I can carry you. Okay? The hospital is only five minutes away. I can get you there in three. Fanciest driver in The Cut. You know that. Yeah? We’ll be there in a heartbeat. Everything’ll be fine. We’re okay. Okay?” He sniffles, lifting the neck of his white tee shirt to wipe the emotion out of his eyes. “Let me get you some clothes, sweetheart.” You nod in reply, gripping the counter tightly as you battle through the pain of another contraction.

JJ races back into the bathroom as fast as he came out, handling you carefully as he tugs on your oversized t-shirt and shorts. He guides you to your feet, helping you into your Converse sneakers, tying them tight before lifting you into his arms. You clutch onto him as you ride out another contraction, burying yourself in the crook of his neck. Your tears wet his shirt as he walks with you toward the door, stepping out into the night. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright," he soothes, kissing you gently on the temple.

JJ tugs open the door of the Bronco, setting you inside before sprinting around the front. JJ flicks the keys, making the engine roar. He throws it in reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before skirting onto the main street, making you clutch the grab rails for support. "Shit. Sorry, princess,” JJ winces as he sees the fright in your eyes. He thrusts his hand into his pocket, thumbing through his cell phone as he dodges through traffic.

You can see the tears still sparkling in his stare; JJ’s jaw coiled tight as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line. He’s terrified, just like you, his phone trembling in his hand. “Hi. Uhh… Shit. My girlfriend and I are on our way in. She - she’s…”

“In labor,” you whisper, helping him along.

“She’s in labor. We’re about two minutes away. Uh… Umm, let me ask,” he breathes, eyes snapping your way. “How far apart are they? Have you been timing them?”

“Timing what?” You ask sheepishly, watching as JJ’s eyes lighten on yours.

“Your contractions, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper, cheeks hot with shame again, your ignorance on display. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I should know this. Why don’t I know this?“

"S'okay," he whispers. JJ looks down at the dash, eyeing the little clock.

"Fuck, Jayj,” you sob, the pressure of another contraction setting in.

“Shit. Sorry - sorry, I’m here. Umm… Like four minutes tops? Yeah. Mhmm… She’s close,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah - The front. We’ll meet you out there.” You try your best to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you see the hospital sign glowing like a beacon in the night. JJ stuffs his phone back in his pocket, reaching for your hand instantly, weaving his finger in yours before drawing them up to his lips. He kisses your hand, lingering on your skin, hiding his quivering lips.

“Motherfucker!” You scream, driving your heels into the floor of the SUV; yet another contraction barrelling through your body as you pull up to the curb. JJ grits his teeth as you squeeze his hand tight, surely drawing blood.

JJ’s POV:

“Take a deep breath for me, y/n,” the nurse aids. Y/n’s eyes slam shut, her beautiful face scrunching in discomfort as the nurse checks her further. “Okay… 10 centimeters,” she says calmly. “I see some hair.” Y/n’s eyes remain shut in fear as she nods her head frantically. Her little hand squeezes mine again; the only relief she can get this far along. I can’t believe she almost did this alone - all by herself. What if she couldn’t have made it to the phone? 

Why can’t she call her parents? Why is she alone in the first place? Why wouldn’t she just tell me? I feel my thoughts start to race with the beating of my heart. “Y/n,” I whisper. Her gaze matches mine, sending me into a spiral as I see the speckles of red against the whites of her eyes, popped blood vessels, and tears pooled in the corners. Heat rises behind my eyes again as I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re doing so good, y/n.”

“M'not,” she hiccups, hand clutching her little bucket as she waits for her tummy to turn again. “I let you down, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. M'not fucking ready-”

“Y-You’re ready,” I stammer; the stutter in my voice deceives me, but I mean every word. “You didn’t let me down. I went into your room, y/n. I saw the crib, all the clothes you have hung in your closet, the baby book with all the Post-it notes sticking out. You’re ready. 'Course you’re scared…” My voice fades to a hush as she tucks herself in my neck. I’m instantly struck with Deja Vu, thrown back into the night that changed everything. The last night she was mine… I clear my throat, beating my lashes shut.

“The baby’s a boy, Jayj,” she whispers gently.

“Yeah?” I ask happily as I choke back tears, feeling her nod against my shoulder.

“M'sorry, Jayj. I-” Y/n fleeting words turn into a wail, nails digging into my forearm.

“Please don’t apologize, y/n,” I soothe, kissing her head. “You’re so strong, baby girl,” I whisper in her ear, feeling her muscles contract.

“We’re going to need you to start pushing, y/n.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

“You can, baby. You can.”

“You know how you feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Push like that. Okay?” Y/n shakes her head no.

“You’ve got to, baby. A'ight? You’re amazing, y/n,” I breathe, moving closer. She presses her forehead against mine, gritting her teeth. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.” Y/n presses her quivering lips against mine, taking my breath away. Those lips… Holy shit. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer. “I missed you," I whisper shakily. 

"I missed you too, JJ,” she echoes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” she whimpers.

“M'not goin’ anywhere. M'not leavin’ you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobs.

“Y/n?” The nurse calls. “What’s your pain level when you have a contraction?”

“10,” she soughs.

“You’re going to have a contraction in a few seconds. We’re going to need you to push hard. When you feel it coming on, take some deep breaths. When you hit 10, push. Okay? JJ, we will need you to count to ten for her. Y/n, we want you to push all 10 seconds.” I can see the shift in her face; her pain, increasing. Her grip on my hand gets tighter. Y/n’s eyes shift to mine, giving me a nod.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

“F-Fuck!” She screams, her eyes slam shut as her body trembles in pain. “S'not working,” she snivels.

“It’s working. You’re doing a great job. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor assures. “This next one might be it, but you’ll have to push really hard.”

“Did you hear that, baby?” I breathe, my lips resting on her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“You’re doing a great job, Y/n,” the nurse whispers. Y/n’s eyes flutter shut, wincing in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t believe a word of it.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

“Ow… Ow… No. It burns,” she wails. The words catch my throat as I push back tears.

“We have him. Keep pushing.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

She lets out a guttural scream; the doctor catches a baby, drawing him out. “Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Oh… H-Holy shit,” she whimpers. “Is the baby okay? Is he breathing?” I hear the baby’s high-pitched cry. A wave of relief crashes over me. Y/n dissolves in my arms as we look out for our little boy. 

This was the last thing I expected, the furthest thing from my mind when I woke up this morning. But, now, here I am. Here he is. Here she is, my beautiful fucking girl. We made him… He’s ours.

“I’m so glad you came, Jayj,” she cries.

“Me too, baby. Holy shit.” I grab a towel from the nurse, blotting the tears and sweat from Y/n’s face. “You did so well, y/n. Fuck. You okay, honey?” I mumble before meeting her lips.

“M'okay." God, I can’t stop. I kiss her deeper, making y/n smile against my lips. "I missed you,” she whispers.

“I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so damn much,” I sigh.

“You’re going to be such a good dad-”

“You’re going to be such a good mom. The best mom. The baby’s so lucky to have you as a mom,” I babble, kissing her forehead and cupping her dewy cheek. I hold y/n tightly, watching the nurse cradle the baby in her arms. She sets him on the towel, cutting and clamping the umbilical cord.

She walks over, resting the baby on Y/n’s chest, and in that moment, I feel a shift. Everything seems a little clearer: her, him, and they’re both mine. My heart feels like it could fucking burst as I look at him in her arms. He’s so tiny, so small and fragile. I just want to keep him safe.

Y/n’s lips rest on his tiny head, a pink and blue striped bonnet covering a mess of blonde hair, just like mine. “Jayj,” she whispers, extending him to me. I draw the baby close, blinking, my tears gone. He’s so peaceful; his eyes shut tight. I can feel the warmth of his little breaths against my skin.

“Wow,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling as tears fall. Y/n rests her head on my shoulder. We’re okay. Everything’s okay.

“You look beautiful,” I breathe.

“You’re a liar, JJ Maybank.” Her nose scrunches, eyes rolling away. Fuck. I missed her.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” she chuckles through a sigh, hands resting on her once-rounded tummy. 

“You jokin’?” I scoff. “Been dreamin’ about that for the last, what, nine months now? S'the first thing we’re gonna do when we get outta here.” Y/n chuckles as she raises an eyebrow, making me double back.

“6 weeks, Jayj,” she whispers as her flushed cheeks blush even more.

“No…” I gasps. “You sure? I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doin’, princess. Gonna need to fact-check that shit.” I give her a taunting look, making her roll her. “M'just kiddin’, sweetness.” Taking out my phone, I flick to the calendar, checking the dates. “The 24th, baby girl.” Y/n lets out a sleepy little laugh, tucking herself in my arms again.

“Babysitter?”

“Mhmm… Whoever you want,” I soothe.

“Sarah and Pope.”

“Ah, Cameron and Heyward. Couldn’t agree more, baby.” She snuggles in a little closer, her eyes on the little bassinet, watching the baby sleep. “So…” I sigh as I take a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I’m officially a Pogue, Jayj?” She asks weakly.

“Yeah… I’ve got a few questions, princess. That’s a good start,” I mumble, resting my lips against her temple. She takes a deep breath, expelling a laborious sigh.

“Umm… Well, my parents didn’t want me to have the baby-”

“Stop,” you whisper, shaking your head 'no.’ “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, and I can’t hear it. Alright? I don’t want you to say it either. Please.” Y/n bites her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry - m'so, so sorry.” I cup her cheek, kissing her lips. “You got me… You got all my friends - you’re friends. This baby will be so loved, y/n. I swear.”

“Okay, Jayj.”

“Thank you for not doin’ that, baby. I just - I can’t even imagine that now,” I breathe, feeling my throat tighten as I watch his little chest rise and fall.

“It was never an option, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, y/n? Why did you think it would ruin my life? Why did you break up with me-”

“JJ,” she breathes as she rests her hand on my chest, grounding me again. “That was a huge fucking mistake. I’m so sorry. We had just started dating, and then you left. And, right before you left-”

“I was talking to John B about what a nightmare this shit would be…” I cut her short, dropping my head, nodding as I put the pieces together.

“When you came back, Jayj, I didn’t know what to do. And, I saw you with Kie, and you looked like the two of you had somethin’ goin’ on. Between that and my parents, I felt it would be easier for everyone if I went at it alone.”

“Kie is just a friend. Alright? She always has been. And life isn’t easy, y/n,” I whisper. “You know that just as well as me. Doesn’t mean that the hard isn’t worth going through. I swear I will be here for you both if you’ll let me.”

“Really?” Y/n asks shakily.

“Please, y/n.”

“I need you, J. I want you in my life,” she whispers, an unease in her tone like you may say anything but the apparent 'yes.’

“I need you too, princess.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she warns. “I have read books, sure, but if today showed me anything, it let me know I’m not fucking ready.”

“S'not true, honey. I’ve seen you with him already, and you’re a natural. We’ll figure this whole parenting thing out together,” I smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj.”

The lights are low; the sky is dark, only the glow of the television casting light in the room. Drawing back the blankets, I climb inside, pulling her back into my chest. I focus on the sound of her breathing, the way she fits in my arms, just like I remembered, just like I dreamt about. Her soft, supple skin and the sweetness of her perfume surrounds me.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls. A hospital worker walks in with a bouquet. Y/n smiles brightly, setting them down on the counter. Reaching over, I snag the card from the top and pass it to her; a little smile stretches on her lips from the sweet gesture alone. “To our newest little Pogue. Welcome to the family, baby boy. Love, Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, Aunt Kiara, and Uncle Pope.”

Y/n reaches up, brushing the tears from her eyes as I do the same. “Your friends are pretty special, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Our friends, baby,” I smile. “They’re gonna be so happy to have you around again.”

She smiles and nods before tucking the little note back into the bouquet. Tonight was horrifying… a stark contrast to this moment. The woman I love is no longer in tears, no longer in agony, no longer scared. She’s my light… My safe place.

“What were you gonna name him, y/n? I’m sure you already have something in mind.”

“Jaxon James.”

“JJ?” I hum happily as I pull her in tight. Her sparkling eyes match mine, a blissful smile setting in her perfect lips.

“He looks just like you, Jayj; your nose, your hair, your eyes,” she sighs dreamily. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s so damn cute. Oh my god,” I whisper; catching a glimpse of his round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Can he have your last name, Jayj?”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, her question alone conjuring up yet another round of tears. I flutter my lashes, doing my best to keep it together. “Of course, baby. Thank you. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me,” I whisper.

“You two mean everything to me, Jayj.”

I hold her cheek in my hand, brushing her buttery-soft skin with my rough thumb. “We’ll start with him, then you, of course. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah, Jayj?” She whimpers through tears.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, y/n. Of course, I wanna be with you forever. Let’s start with the first step. Huh? Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

She grabs my face, lips crashing into mine as her body language alone screams 'yes’. My hands fall down her body; the familiarity of her in my arms feels just like home.

“Of course, Jayj.”

“6 weeks. Huh?” I tease, peppering kisses on her beautiful face through a gravelly laugh as she giggles and smiles.

“I love you, JJ.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[tarithenurse]

Don't hide it

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!

Don’t hide it

Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.

After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.

Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.

“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”

You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.

Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.

You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.

“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.

I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.

“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.

Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”

You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”

“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”

Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh.

It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.

Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.

“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”

“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”

“Love?”

“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”

Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”

You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”

“Imagine them naked.”

You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.

“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.

Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.

You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.

“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.

A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.

Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.

“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”

His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.

“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”

“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”

“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”

You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.

Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.

You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.

“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.

You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.

[natashasfilms]

You’re Losing Me

Summary: Dating a colleague has always been an exhilarating experience. However, as you reach a point where you’re ready to take the relationship further after spending years together, doubts start to creep in. You begin questioning whether you’re the only one putting effort into saving something that seems to be slowly fading away.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: taylor swift’s song “you’re losing me”, angst, fluff, coworker relationship, language, drowning, stabs, injuries, usual criminal minds stuff, use of y/n, lovers to exes to lovers again, not really unrequited love, insecurity, making out, happy ending

Word Count: 7,938 (the longest one shot i’ve written so far…)

Note: It’s been so so so long since I’ve posted anything on here, so enjoy a little Aaron Hotchner one shot! I’m think of writing an Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds series, similar to my Steve Harrington/Stranger Things series, but it may take me a while to finish writing the entire thing. Maybe I’ll write a few chapters and then upload those and write along as I go but I don’t want to do that in case I lose motivation throughout the midst of it. We’ll see what happens! It’s just that I’m super busy but I have such great ideas for this series!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

As the sunlight slowly filtered through the windows, you began to awake from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you gazed at the ceiling and felt the comforting embrace of a pair of arms around your waist. Turning your head, you smiled at the man sleeping beside you and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. After disentangling yourself from his arms, you got out of bed.

Quickly, you took a shower, brushed your teeth, and dressed for the day. Upon leaving the bathroom, you found your boyfriend, Aaron, sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Aaron.” You greeted him.

He looked up with a grin, standing up to meet you. “Morning.” He responded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom himself.

You then entered Jack’s room to wake him up and get him ready for school. Seeing him still asleep, you approached with a gentle touch, waking him with a soft rub on his head. “Jack, sweetie, it’s time to wake up.”

Jack groaned, still half-asleep. “Five more minutes.”

You chuckled, playfully poking his cheek. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be late for school.” Eventually, Jack sat up in bed, and you left his room with a cheeky smile.

Preparing breakfast for your two boys, you heard footsteps down the hall. Setting the plates on the table, you watched as Jack settled into his seat. “Thank you, Y/N! This looks good!”

Nodding, you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before you and Aaron sat down at the table. He reached out to hold your hand as a gesture of thanks, which made your heart flutter with affection.

After bidding Jack farewell and dropping him off at school, you and Aaron began your drive to work. Upon arriving, you entered the office first, as your relationship with Aaron was not public knowledge except to Strauss. You both agreed to keep it quiet to avoid potential workplace issues, though you wouldn’t mind being open about it if the opportunity arose. You weren’t entirely sure how Aaron felt about that.

Sitting at your desk, you watched Aaron make his way upstairs to his office, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention. Your colleagues, Emily, Derek, Elle, Spencer, and JJ, were already at their desks, engaged in friendly chatter while working on their paperwork. You joined in, laughing at Emily and Derek’s playful banter.

At times, you felt the urge to spend more time with Aaron in his office, but you respected his decision to keep your relationship private. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one who truly cared about the relationship. Four years together, and you were eagerly awaiting for him to pop the question. But that seemed to be indefinitely postponed. It sometimes felt like you were the only one putting effort into the relationship.

Fortunately, the entire day turned out to be pleasantly light. With no new cases, the office was buzzing with paperwork and fueled by several cups of coffee. Every so often, Penelope would come over to chat with all of you, as she often felt lonely in her own office. Her presence brought joy, and you always welcomed her with a warm smile, her infectious happiness lifting your spirits.

As the day drew to a close, the office was nearly empty, with only you, Aaron, and Elle remaining on the current floor. Elle grabbed her bag, ready to head out.

“See you tomorrow, Elle.” You called out, waving.

Elle smiled back at you. “You’re leaving right now, right?”

You nodded, turning to your desk to organize your files. “Yep, just need to gather these files and hand them over to Hotch.”

Her eyes shifted to the man in question, who was still seated at his desk in his office. “Does he ever sleep?” Elle asked, furrowing her brows.

Chuckling, you stood up. “I’d like to say yes, but he’s practically a robot.”

Elle hummed, and her gaze returned to you. “Do you want me to wait for you?” She offered.

You widened your eyes slightly, quickly clearing your throat. “Oh, no, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Elle reassured you, but you waved your hand dismissively.

“No, really. You can go on ahead. I have to ask Hotch a few questions about the paperwork, anyway.”

You noticed a subtle shift in Elle’s eyes, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “Right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She said, bidding you goodbye before making her way to the glass doors and stepping into the elevator.

Feeling a sense of relief, you let out a sigh, almost convinced that Elle had caught on to your and Aaron’s relationship. Shaking your head to dismiss such thoughts, you collected all the files and made your way up to his office, lightly knocking on the door. Aaron’s voice invited you in, prompting you to enter.

As he looked up from his work, his stern expression softened into one of happiness at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but grin, placing the files on his desk. “It’s late, we should get going.”

Furrowing his brows, Aaron checked the time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it got.” He admitted, quickly gathering the files and organizing everything for the next day.

Both of you exited the building and walked to your car. Settling inside, you watched Aaron start the engine and drive off, your mind preoccupied with thoughts. You were contemplating whether to broach the topic of taking your relationship to the next level or even considering making it public. Although you should have felt at ease discussing it with Aaron, anxiety gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly.

Despite knowing Aaron to be the most kind-hearted man you’ve known for years, you couldn’t help but fear his response. You didn’t want this conversation to become a make-or-break moment for your relationship, yet you also couldn’t bear to keep hiding in the shadows any longer.

Arriving at your shared apartment, you both entered, setting your bags down by the door and turning on the lights. With Jack spending the night at Jessica’s, you and Aaron found yourselves alone, creating an opportunity for you to bring up a potentially important conversation.

Deciding to allow yourselves a moment to freshen up and have dinner before broaching the important topic, you wanted to ensure neither of you went to bed hungry in case the conversation didn't go smoothly.

After showering, having dinner, and relaxing, you finally felt ready to initiate the conversation. Throughout the evening, you sensed Aaron’s eyes on you, and it was time for him to ask what was bothering you.

“You’ve been tense all night.” Aaron observed, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the couch. “Is something wrong?”

Your mind raced through different approaches to the problem, but you still didn’t feel fully prepared as you began to respond to his question. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

He arched an eyebrow, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Care to share?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. “Have you ever considered...making our relationship public?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Aaron’s arms dropped from your shoulder. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, dreading his response.

“Aaron?” You anxiously waited for his answer, but he fell silent, trying to find the right words to respond to you. “Can you please say something?”

Aaron’s face tightened with hesitation as he tried to find the right words to respond to your question. He glanced away, unable to meet your eyes directly, and sighed heavily. “I...I haven’t really thought about going public.” He finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Our relationship has always been private, and it’s been working for us. I’m afraid of how things might change if we make it public.”

Your heart sank, sensing the reluctance in his response. “But Aaron, we’ve been together for so long, and I’m tired of just hiding our relationship. I want to be with you openly, without constantly worrying about keeping it a secret.” You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know that.” Aaron said, his voice softening. “But we both know how the nature of our work is. If our relationship becomes public, it could jeopardize everything we’ve built here. I can’t risk that, especially for Jack’s sake.”

Frustration and sadness engulfed you, and you felt a surge of emotions welling up inside. “So, you’re choosing your job and keeping up appearances over us? Over me?” You exclaimed, your voice quivering with hurt.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just not that simple.” Aaron replied, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away.

“Then enlighten me, Aaron. What do you mean? Because maybe it’s not simple for you, but it is for me.” You said firmly, your heart breaking. “I can’t keep living like this. I deserve better than this, Aaron.”

He looked torn, his eyes reflecting his own pain. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But you’re not willing to fight for us.” You responded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Tell me, Aaron. Did you even plan on marrying me?”

His silence spoke louder than words, and it was all you needed to get your answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and your heart shattered in less than two minutes, your fears coming true. The pain of realization washed over you, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, to find comfort in the familiarity of your relationship. But deep down, you knew that settling for someone who didn’t put effort into the relationship wasn’t right for you. You deserved someone who cherished and valued you, someone who saw a future with you and was willing to fight for it.

“Looks like you’ve already lost me.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You hastily wiped away your tears, determined not to break down completely. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you avoided Aaron’s gaze as you walked away, trying to maintain some composure. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

The realization that the love of your life might not have felt the same way about you as you thought shattered your heart into pieces. You couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship that made you feel worthless.

What made it even more painful was that Aaron had always been the kindest man you had ever known. He had made you feel loved, supported, and cared for, especially during your lowest moments. However, now, you couldn’t help but question everything.

“Dad?” Jack spoke, catching his father’s attention as he helped put his backpack on. “When is Y/N coming back?”

It had been a week since you and Aaron broke up, and the impact of the decision weighed heavily on both of you. In the aftermath, you moved out of Aaron’s apartment, leaving behind the memories of a once loving relationship. Aaron struggled with the reality that you weren’t living with him anymore. He had tried to apologize and convince you to reconsider, but you remained firm in your decision. You believed that taking some time and space apart was essential for both of you to figure out what you truly wanted.

“I’m not sure, buddy.” Aaron replied to Jack with a gentle smile, masking the turmoil within his heart. “Y/N needed some time to think about things, and we both agreed it was best to take some space for now.”

Jack frowned, sensing that something significant had changed. He missed having you around, and it was hard for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But he trusted his father and hoped that things would work out for the best.

Despite your desire for space, maintaining it was extremely challenging when you had to work together. Nevertheless, you were grateful that the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice any change in your demeanor towards each other. You made a concerted effort to act as you always did while on the job, which wasn’t too difficult, considering you had always portrayed your relationship as strictly professional, pretending to know each other only as coworkers.

Aaron despised himself for not being open and honest with you that night, for jeopardizing the relationship you had built over the years. He loved you deeply, and the thought of marrying you had crossed his mind countless times. However, fear had gripped his heart. The pain of losing Haley had left him hesitant about committing to another relationship, and he believed he could never truly move on. Yet, you had always supported him throughout that challenging time. Your constant presence by his side, understanding, and care had gradually allowed him to let go of his fears. Before he knew it, he had become deeply attached to you, and his love for you had grown immeasurably.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you that he didn’t want anyone to know about your relationship. Instead, Aaron feared that making it public might endanger you, given the high-stakes nature of their work and the potential risks involved. He wanted to protect you from any repercussions that might arise if their personal relationship were exposed in the often dangerous and unpredictable world they worked in. Although it pained him to keep your love hidden, he believed it was a necessary precaution to keep you safe. After Haley, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

Now, he felt utterly foolish. Regret washed over him as he realized he should have communicated with you more openly, explaining why he felt the way he did instead of leaving you to question his love. The pain of knowing that you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that you believed he was ashamed of you, weighed heavily on his heart.

He wished he could turn back time and find the courage to share his fears and concerns with you, to let you know just how much he loves and values you. The thought of causing you any hurt had never been his intention, but he had failed in expressing himself clearly.

The team sat aboard the private jet, en route to your destination for a new case that demanded your immediate attention. Three homicides, spread across different cities, all linked by a hauntingly similar MO. The victims shared connections that hinted at a calculated pattern, but local law enforcement had hit a dead end, prompting the call for FBI assistance.

Aaron and you purposefully chose seats away from each other, not wanting to add any awkwardness to the already tense situation. As the team delved further into the case, everyone meticulously examined the evidence within the case files.

You scanned through the disturbing details, striving not to let any grimace betray your inner emotions. Over the years, you had grown accustomed to such gruesome cases that it took an emotional toll on even the most seasoned profilers. Yet, you knew that suppressing your emotions was essential to focus on the task at hand.

“Morgan, Prentiss, and Elle, I want you three to check the latest victim’s crime scene and look for anything new. Reid, JJ, and L/N, I need you to head to the coroner’s office and examine the autopsy reports.” Aaron said, making brief eye contact with you for a second before turning his attention back to the team. “Rossi and I will head to the precinct to talk to the local PD and settle in.”

As soon as the jet landed, you, JJ, and Spencer swiftly made your way to one of the BAU SUVs and drove to the coroner’s office to examine the bodies. You were driving the car, while JJ was in the passenger seat, and Spencer was sitting in the back. You conversed with the other two throughout the entire drive, Spencer spitting his genius facts every now and then.

Once you made it inside, the three of you were greeted by the coroner, who led you to the room where the bodies were laid out. Carefully examining the wounds on the victims, you couldn’t help but notice something intriguing. “They’ve all been stabbed exactly twenty times, each stab in a different part of the body.” You stated, glancing at JJ and Spencer for their input. “This was rage.”

Spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concentration. “The repetitive nature of the stab wounds indicates an intense emotional release, possibly stemming from deep-seated anger or frustration.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her empathy guiding her understanding of the crime scene. “Maybe the unsub had a personal vendetta against the victims, and he was trying to send a message with the way he’s stabbed them.”

Spencer couldn’t help but share one of his characteristic and oddly fascinating facts. “Did you know that throughout history, the number twenty has often been associated with completeness and cycles? It’s interesting that the unsub chose this specific number.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating the possibility. “Or maybe the number twenty was important to him? It could hold some significance to the unsub, and he chose it to exert control or leave a twisted signature on the victims.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the shared curiosity. “It’s definitely not uncommon for unsubs to attach meaning to their actions or rituals. The number twenty might be a representation of something personal or symbolic to him.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, adding on to you and JJ. “Numerology has been linked to criminal behavior in certain cases. The choice of numbers might reflect the unsub’s belief in its power or its alignment with his twisted motives.”

As you carefully examined the stab wounds on the victims’ lifeless bodies, a particular detail caught your attention. There was an absence of significant bleeding around the wound sites. The wounds appeared uniform in depth and angle, lacking the telltale signs of hemorrhage typically associated with antemortem stabbings.

You turned to the coroner with a furrowed brow. “These stab wounds...they seem different from typical antemortem injuries. Is there any indication that the victims might have been submerged in water before the stabbing?”

The coroner paused, considering your observation. “Well, we did find traces of water in the airways and lungs of all the victims during the autopsies.” The coroner replied. “It’s possible they were drowned before the stabbings occurred.”

“He’s drowning them and then stabbing them?” JJ questioned, her arms crossed against her chest. “What about signs of sexual assault?”

The coroner shook her head. “There were no signs of sexual assault in the report.”

Spencer chimed in, his gaze intense. “It’s possible that this unsub’s violent ritual provides him with a sense of release. The act of drowning the victims may serve as a form of control or domination, followed by the symbolic significance of twenty stabs, and perhaps linked to a personal obsession or fixation.”

You added to Spencer’s insight. “The number twenty might hold significant meaning to him, reinforcing the notion that these killings are deeply personal and methodically planned.”

JJ looked troubled, contemplating the unsettling pattern before you. “If he’s targeting the victims like this, he might have a connection to them. Something in their past could be triggering this cycle of violence.”

You nodded your head, your gaze remaining fixated on the lifeless forms. “Let’s head back and meet with the others.”

The three of you met up with the rest of the team at the precinct, where you all gathered around the crime board, sharing your findings and insights from the investigations. As each detail was added to the board, the case started to take shape, revealing disturbing connections and patterns.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but sense Aaron’s occasional glances in your direction. Part of you hoped he would approach you and start a conversation, maybe even attempt to mend what was broken between you both. Yet, another part of you felt a tinge of relief that he hadn’t approached you, as facing him would only reopen the wounds that were still raw.

It had only been a week since the painful breakup, and you found yourself torn between wanting to be understood and yearning for his apologies, and the need to protect yourself from further heartache. The longing for him to realize his mistakes, coupled with the desire to put the pieces of your life back together, weighed heavily on your emotions.

You also couldn’t help but miss Jack dearly. Saying goodbye to him before you left had been one of the hardest moments, knowing that he couldn’t fully comprehend the reasons behind your departure. The memories of the mornings you spent with him, preparing breakfast and engaging in playful moments, tugged at your heartstrings. You had cherished those moments, but you knew that staying in an emotionally draining situation wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

At the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on the entire team, the toll of the stressful investigation demanding a much-needed rest. However, they were confident in the amount of evidence gathered, giving them a solid foundation to construct a profile when they regrouped.

Reaching the hotel, the team bid each other farewell, knowing they’d reconvene in the morning to continue the investigation. You let out a weary sigh as you entered your room, eager to collapse onto your bed. Shutting the door behind you, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace. Without delay, you made your way to the bathroom, seeking to refresh yourself after the intense day.

Emerging from the shower, you felt more relaxed. After brushing your teeth, you slipped into comfortable sleepwear, embracing the coziness that enveloped you.

As you were about to settle into your bed, there was a knock on your door. Confusion washed over you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. Walking cautiously to the door, you peered through the peephole and let out a soft sigh upon recognizing Aaron’s familiar face.

You opened the door, raising an eyebrow, giving him the signal to speak. His nervous demeanor was uncharacteristic of the stoic Aaron Hotchner, who rarely showed any signs of anxiety.

“Can I come in?” He asked, and a part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his request, but you held back your emotions. Suppressing a disgruntled noise, you opened the door wider, allowing him to enter your room.

Aaron wasted no time, quickly stepping inside as if he feared you might change your mind and shut the door on him. His uneasiness was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to seek you out in this vulnerable state.

With the door closed, you faced him, waiting for an explanation as to why he had come to your room at this late hour. “How are you?” He questioned, and you almost scoffed.

“What do you need?” You asked instead, completely ignoring his question.

His heart twinged with pain when he heard your voice, sensing the coldness in your tone, a reflection of the hurt he had caused. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, determined to make things right. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I hated how things ended between us, and if I could turn back time, I would do so in a heartbeat just so I wouldn’t be the one who broke your heart.”

Your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, and he could see the struggle behind your eyes as you fought back tears. The mere week of separation had been agonizing, making him yearn for your presence more than ever. He longed to hold you in his arms again, to kiss you like they had for the past four years. But he understood that he couldn’t expect you to forgive him so easily.

“Jack misses you.” He continued, his voice laced with regret. “He asks for you every day, wondering if you’ll come back. It breaks my heart each time he does.” Your heart ached for the little boy, whom you had grown to cherish as your own. “And I miss you too, more than I can put into words. I’m willing to do anything and everything to fix things.”

Your gaze locked with his, and he saw the emotions swirling within you. “Aaron, I don’t know.” You began, and he felt his heart drop, fearing your answer. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again? You’re only saying this because you realized what you had after you lost me.”

He shook his head, almost reaching for your hands but stopping himself, respecting the space you needed. “No, that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Yes, I was an absolute idiot, but I’m not just saying this because I realized what I had after I lost you. You mean the world to me, and I love you. If you just let me show you that I won’t make the same mistake ever again. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and it was never my intention to hide you away. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.” His voice was filled with sincerity, pleading for another chance to prove his love and commitment to you.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. “Aaron, I think I need some time.” You said, truthfully. “I just need some space to figure out what I truly want. Throughout all these years, I’ve longed for you to prioritize us, but it never happened. Maybe I was too naive to believe it ever would.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, avoiding the pained look on his face. “I love you, too, but I can’t ignore the fact that I wanted you to put me first, instead of this job, and to consider a future together. I wanted to get married, but I don’t think you felt the same.”

He was about to say something, but you held up a finger, needing to continue.

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t marry myself either.” You confessed softly. “I’ve spent so much time trying to please everyone, especially you. It’s been exhausting, trying to be the perfect girlfriend or even a future wife, when it felt like I was the only one making an effort. I sent you countless signals, hoping you’d notice, but it seemed like you didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in our relationship.”

You let out a deep breath, relieved to have finally expressed your thoughts that had been brewing for months. Opening your eyes, you looked at Aaron, and his broken appearance tugged at your heartstrings. You longed to turn his frown into a smile, to fix everything, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.

“You’re wrong.” He finally spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening intently. “Of course I wanted to marry you.” He continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I was just too scared.”

“Scared of what?” You asked softly, urging him to open up.

“Of losing you, though it seems like I already did.” He said, a sad chuckle escaping his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “After Haley, I never thought I would be capable of falling in love again. I had built walls around my heart, convinced it was safer that way. But then you were always there for me and I let myself fall for you, and it scared me.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and continued. “I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger because of this job, just like I did with Haley and Jack. I blamed myself for her death, and I didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why I kept our relationship hidden. I was afraid it would expose you to unnecessary risks.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession. “Aaron.” You said, your voice filled with empathy. “You didn’t have to carry all that burden alone. We could have faced it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know, and I should have trusted us more. But my fear consumed me, and I made a terrible mistake by pushing you away.”

You walked closer and reached out to gently touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt to be kept in the dark. We could have faced those fears together as a team, just like we always do in these cases.”

“I know, and I wish I had the strength to open up to you sooner.” He whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

You leaned your forehead against his, savoring the closeness between you. Bringing your free hand to touch his other cheek, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. “This could have gone so differently if you had opened up to me, Aaron.” You whispered, looking into his eyes with sincerity. “But I still think we need some time apart. Just for a little bit.”

He closed his eyes, absorbing your words, and then nodded his head. “I know, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t oppose it.”

“Okay.” You whispered back, feeling a mix of sadness and hope in your heart. He stepped back, giving you a soft smile, before he turned to walk towards the door. “Wait.” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, and without hesitation, you gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was a tender, lingering kiss, full of unspoken emotions. He held onto your hands, cherishing the brief moments of the kiss, until you finally let go. “Goodnight.” You murmured, your voice tinged with both affection and uncertainty.

He looked dazed, as if he were in some sort of dream, processing the intensity of the moment. He tried his best to speak, finally managing a quiet “Goodnight” before he turned and left your room.

The next day, the team gathered at the precinct, ready to delve into the evidence with fresh eyes after sleeping. However, it was a restless night for both you and Aaron. Sleep seemed elusive as you tossed and turned, your mind consumed with thoughts of everything Aaron had said. Meanwhile, Aaron found himself replaying the kiss you shared before he left, and he couldn’t shake the weight of your words and emotions regarding your relationship and his actions.

After a few hours of relentless effort, Penelope’s expertise paid off, and she managed to uncover a name and address for the unsub. Putting on your bulletproof vests, the team raced to the SUVs, determined to catch the dangerous individual before he could harm anyone else.

Arriving at the address, you were met with an empty house. The unsub was nowhere to be seen, so you scanned the surroundings for any possible clues. Aaron spoke up, his voice firm. “We need to find any leads, any hints on where he might keep his victims.”

The team split up, meticulously combing through the scene, searching for any shred of evidence that could provide a much-needed breakthrough. The tension was palpable, knowing that every moment counted in preventing further tragedy.

As you examined the area, some of the photos on the wall caught your eye. The pictures consisted of different landscapes, however, when you looked more closely, the pictures seemed to be connected despite it being in separate frames. You called the team over and examined the photos, sending them over to Penelope to help find the location.

Penelope’s voice came through on the comms, her excitement evident. “Guys, I think I’ve found something. The pictures seem to be at a park near the house! I’m sending you the address now!”

As soon as you got the address, you raced out of the house and back into the waiting SUVs, speeding towards the destination. Upon arriving at the location, you split into groups. You, Elle, and Emily formed a team, eyes fixed on the abandoned warehouse nearby. Silently, you pointed towards the building, an unspoken agreement passing between you. You slowly and quietly walked, guns at the ready as you approached the structure.

You skillfully maneuvered around the back, while Elle and Emily advanced with their guns and flashlight inside, searching the shadows for any traces of the unsub. As you searched the back and began to think it was clear, you suddenly felt a forceful grip clamp over your mouth, muffling any sound you might have made. Before you could react, a sharp impact hit your head, sending you reeling into temporary darkness.

As you gradually regained consciousness, your surroundings came into focus, and panic washed over you at the sight of the unsub standing before you. Fear pulsed through your veins as you realized you were weaponless and vulnerable. His sinister laughter sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you had to act fast.

His sadistic grin filled you with dread as he taunted you, relishing the power he held over you. Every instinct urged you to escape, but he had already restrained you with a cruel grip, leaving you little room to maneuver. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you desperately scanned your surroundings for any possible means of escape.

As terror surged through your veins, you realized you were next to a lake. The sight of its dark waters filled you with dread, as you knew the unsub intended to use it against you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you drew upon every ounce of strength you possessed, mustering a deafening scream in hopes that your team would hear you.

But the unsub was swift as well. Before you could make a move, he forcefully plunged you into the icy water. The coldness was shocking, stealing your breath away as he held you submerged. Panic surged through you as you fought against his unyielding grasp, struggling to resurface for air.

Despite your efforts, he held you down, with no chance of escape. Each time you managed to rise, gasping for breath, he mercilessly forced you back into the depths, determined to drown you just like all the other victims.

As darkness threatened to consume you, your mind raced with thoughts of your team. You wondered if they were close, if they could hear your cries for help, and if they would find you in time. You didn’t even know if they were nearby or if the unsub took you to a different location while you were knocked out. The uncertainty only deepened your desperation, as you clung to the hope that rescue was on its way.

As you struggled to hold on, your strength waned, and you found yourself slipping away, succumbing to the relentless pressure of the unsub’s grip. Helplessly, you surrendered to the suffocating darkness that surrounded you. That’s when a sudden, deafening gunshot pierced the air, tearing through the silence.

In the blink of an eye, the unsub’s hold on you loosened, and you were released from his grasp. He tumbled into the water, gone with a well-aimed bullet through his head. Aaron dropped his gun and leaped into the water without hesitation, desperately reaching for your lifeless form before it could go any deeper.

Emerging from the water’s grasp, Aaron clutched you tightly in his arms as the rest of the team rushed to assist. His heart raced with panic, his mind consumed by the fear of losing you. You were unresponsive, your eyes closed, and the once rhythmic rise and fall of your chest had ceased. Time seemed to stand still as he began chest compressions and performed CPR, his every action fueled by a desperation to revive you.

He had tears streaming down his face and his voice trembled with emotion as he begged you to fight, to come back to him. He refused to accept that this could be the end, that he might lose the person he loved with his entire heart once again. The rest of the team looked on, their hearts heavy with concern, but also filled with hope as they witnessed Aaron’s efforts to bring you back.

Derek kneeled beside Aaron, gripping his shoulders with urgency as he tried to intervene. “Hotch! Stop! Let someone else take over!” He yelled, attempting to divert his attention.

But Aaron was relentless, his focus solely on you. He brushed Derek’s hands aside, determination etched across his face. “I won’t stop until she’s awake.” He declared, resuming his life-saving efforts without a second thought. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he continued to administer CPR.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you coughed and sputtered, water escaping from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to find your breath. Aaron’s arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, holding you close as you fought to regain your composure.

“Oh, thank God.” Emily breathed, her hand pressed against her chest, relief washing over her after the initial fear.

Aaron released his hold on you, and Derek immediately enveloped you in a tight embrace. “Babygirl, you scared all of us.” He murmured, still feeling shaken by the close call. Elle, not one to be left out, quickly shoved Derek away and hugged you with genuine concern.

“We should’ve never let you go out there by yourself.” Elle expressed, feeling guilty that they had split up. “I’m so sorry.”

Emily, kneeling beside you, placed a reassuring hand on your back. “We should’ve gone together.”

You shook your head, offering a small smile to your caring teammates. “Stop blaming yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen. At least I’m okay now.”

“Yeah, but you were dead for a few minutes.” Emily retorted with a scoff, still grappling with the shock of the situation.

You understood their concern, but you also knew that in their line of work, these moments were unfortunately part of the job. You reassured them. “I’m alright now, thanks to all of you.” And Aaron. You thought. You locked eyes with him, offering a reassuring smile. Though he didn’t return the smile, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes, telling you how grateful he was that you were still alive.

The EMT’s thoroughly checked you over, ensuring there were no other injuries, and concluded that you were fine. You sat at the back of the ambulance, swinging your legs back and forth, absently touching the bandage on your forehead where the unsub had hit you.

As you looked around, you saw the scene filled with law enforcement personnel. The unsub’s lifeless body was being carried away on a gurney, wrapped in a white sheet. A mix of relief and anger washed over you. Relief that he could no longer harm anyone else, and anger that he had taken the easy way out, escaping true justice.

Turning to your right, you noticed Aaron glancing back at you from time to time. Summoning some courage, you raised a hand and waved at him. This time, he smiled. A small yet genuine gesture that warmed your heart. Derek, ever the observant one, caught the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. Playfully, he nudged Aaron on the shoulder, urging him to talk to you. Aaron, true to his stoic self, gave Derek a brief glare, which only made Derek raise his hands in surrender, laughing as he watched his boss walk away.

Aaron’s voice softened as he spoke, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

You smiled, appreciating his caring nature. “I’m fine, Aaron.” Patting the spot next to you, you invited him to sit, and he obliged. Turning to face him, you brought your legs up to your chest. “Thank you for saving me.”

He shook his head, gazing up at the sky. “Don’t thank me. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His eyes met yours, and you could see the tears welling up. “I should’ve been there to protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

You reached out to touch his cheek, trying to console him. “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I made the choice to check the back alone while Elle and Emily went inside. The blame lies solely on the unsub. Please, don’t carry that burden on yourself.” As he attempted to hold your hand, you pulled away slightly, causing his heart to ache. You were aware of your team’s eyes on you and didn’t want to fuel any rumors.

“Sorry, they might see us.” You explained.

He scoffed, refusing to let go of your hands. “I don’t care if they see us. It would be a miracle if they didn’t suspect anything. I was going insane while trying to save your life.”

“Aaron–”

“I want everyone to know about us. I don’t care anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I will not let you go. You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry for everything.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Seeing you out there, not breathing, holding your lifeless body in my arms...I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do if you were gone. I love you, Y/N. And I will love you until the day I die.”

At his heartfelt words, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You pressed your lips firmly against his, cupping his face with your hands. He held onto your hands, responding with passion and intensity. The week had been long and stressful, but with Aaron finally admitting he didn’t care who saw you together, you embraced the moment, cherishing the love you shared with the man you couldn’t imagine living without.

You pulled away slightly, looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Marry me.” Aaron said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The shock registered on your face, mouth agape. “What?” You asked, your heart pounding.

“Okay, this wasn’t the way I planned on proposing to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Will you marry me?”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “I don’t see a ring anywhere.”

He rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “The ring’s hidden in my desk drawer at the office. I was waiting for the right time to propose, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Your eyes softened, and your heart warmed at his sweet gesture. “You bought a ring?”

Aaron nodded, gently kissing your hands. “I told you, I wanted to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, trying to contain your emotions. “Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I will marry you.” You said, a mixture of excitement and love in your voice.

He grinned, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You will?” He whispered.

“Yes, a million times yes.” You replied, your heart soaring at the prospect of spending your life with the man you loved.

With that, Aaron pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss. The world around you faded away, and all that mattered was the promise of a future together, as partners in both love and life.

“Did you guys really think we didn’t know you two were together all this time?” Rossi questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as the team sat together on the jet, heading home after a successful case. “We aren’t profilers for nothing.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork spread out on the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the lighthearted teasing. Finally feeling content in your life, you leaned back in your seat, feeling the warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.

“It’s true.” Spencer chimed in with a smile. “We always knew you two were dating, but we didn’t say anything because you thought we didn’t know. It’s pretty funny, considering all the looks you give each other when–”

“Reid.” Aaron interrupted, cutting off the young genius before he could go further. The team stifled a laugh as Spencer mumbled out a quick “Sorry,” a sheepish smile on his face, and returned to his book.

JJ grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Hotch. We’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and the way Y/N looks back.”

Elle nodded, adding her own insight. “Yeah, it was kind of adorable watching you two try to keep it a secret.”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “Well, I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.” You admitted, a smile tugging at your lips.

His lips threatened to curl up into a smile, and you noticed it, playfully bumping your shoulders against his. He tried to maintain his composure, looking away and focusing his attention back on the paperwork, but his mind seemed to betray him as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at seeing that smile, knowing that you were the one who could bring it out in him. He was the tough and stoic leader to everyone else, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open.

The rest of the team had amused grins on their faces, watching the two of you with knowing looks. Their usual boss, who rarely showed any emotion, appeared so content and happy whenever you were around. It was a sight they cherished, seeing the man they respected and admired, smile genuinely because of you.

As the night grew on, everyone on the jet was asleep, but you and Aaron were still awake. You laid your head on Aaron’s shoulder, your hand clasped with one of his, as he continued looking through the paperwork. It was a habit for him to bury himself in work, even during quiet moments like this.

You gently nudged the papers away, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Stop, you need to sleep.”

“You need to sleep, too.” He whispered, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender gesture.

You sighed softly, giving him a determined look. “Okay, but you have to stop this. You can look at these when we get back, but for now, you need rest.”

A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Anything for you.”

You gladly kissed him back, feeling a rush of warmth and love for this man. His dedication to his job and his team was commendable, but you also wanted him to take care of himself. He deserved rest and peace, especially after the intense case and the events of the day.

You settled into a comfortable position, still holding each other’s hands, and let the gentle hum of the jet lull you both to sleep. In each other’s arms, you felt a sense of comfort that reassured you, everything had a way of falling into place as it was meant to be.

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

[badkitty3000]

Five and Lila are stuck in the Subway and since this is Lila's first apocalypse she has a major panic attack at the end of 6 years and Five calms her down, this is where she tries to come onto him but he firmly rejects her in a mixture of sweet, comforting, funny, asshole way.

I won't lie, my immediate reaction to this request was "NOOO", merely because I have been trying to avoid anything to do with this season and just generally pretending it doesn't exist. But then I started thinking about it and it was a really good idea. So, thank you, anon...you gave me some light at the end of the tunnel. Here is my take on this request as a nice little alternate scene instead of what we were given by the actual show.

You Made It Weird. Real Fucking Weird

2607 words, one-shot

Warnings: None. Zero Smut! Zero Romance!

“How long has it been now?”

“You just asked me that no more than two minutes ago.”

Lila lets out a long, dramatic whine and slides down the cement support beam of the subway station, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Two minutes? God, why does everything seem to take so long down here?”

There’s a pause and Five keeps quiet.

“So, how long now?”

“Jesus, Lila!” He sighs. “You really want to know?”

Lila nods sadly, her tangled hair hanging over her dirt-smudged face. “Yes.”

Five waits a beat because he knows she’s not going to like the answer. “If my calculations are correct, it’s been 6 years, 5 months, and 2 days.”

He watches as his partner in time-crime stares at him in disbelief. “But, that’s impossible. We can’t have been gone that long. I haven’t seen my own face in a while, but I can sure as bloody hell see yours and it’s still as smooth as a baby’s ass. That makes no sense!”

Five shrugs and looks guilty, although he’s not sure why. It’s not his fault time travel is so complicated. “Time travel is a finicky mistress. We just don’t seem to age on this train; I can’t explain it. There’s a lot of things I can’t explain, actually.”

Lila bangs her forehead against her knees a few times, making guttural groaning noises. When she looks up, it’s as if she has morphed into an entirely different person. She looks manic and scared, with her wide eyes and rapid breathing. She looks deranged. Five takes a small step back.

“Are you ok?” he asks dubiously.

Lila shakes her head. “No,” she says quietly. Then she scrambles up from the ground and starts yelling. “No, I’m not ok, Five! Of course I’m not ok! I’ve been away from my family for almost seven years!” Tears start welling up in her eyes. “My kids…I haven’t seen my kids in that long…oh my god…and Diego…” her voice trails off. After a second, her head whips in his direction again. “We need to go back, Five. I need to go back! Like right now!”

“What the hell do you think we’ve been trying to do? If I had a way back, I’d tell you, but I don’t.”

“No…no no no no…this cannot be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Five, my kids!” She stares at him with the most heartbreaking look on her face, the tears starting to quietly drip down her cheeks, leaving trails through the dirt smudges. Five’s demeanor starts to soften.

“Listen, I know this is terrible and I know you need your family. But the good news is, they don’t even know you’re gone. No time has passed for them.”

“How the hell do you know? You just said time travel was a judgy whore.”

“Finicky mistress, but sure, we can go with judgy whore. And I’m not sure on a lot of aspects of it, but that part I am sure of.”

That calms her a little bit and she takes a deep breath. “But…even if that were true and no time has passed for them, once we get back won’t that mean I’ll have aged by years in a matter of minutes? What if my kids don’t even recognize me? What if they’re scared of me because their mother is suddenly a haggard old witch with wrinkles and gray hair?”

Five shakes his head with a small smile. “Like I said, I don’t think we’re aging. I think it will be just fine.”

“You think?” She screams at him again. “Oh, well, that’s just great, Five! I’ll try not to worry that my entire life has been destroyed because you, the most self-centered asshole I have ever met, thinks it’ll be fine!”

“You know, if I recall, this was all your idea in the first place!” Five shoots back. “Because you were bored with your life and needed some adventure. So, who’s the self-centered asshole now?”

Lila stops and looks down at the ground. When she looks up, her face has changed again. It starts to crumble and she cries in earnest, her shoulders shaking with loud sobs. Five rolls his eyes and sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets, and looks around uncomfortably. Finally, he concedes and closes the few steps between them.

“It’s going to be ok,” he says softly. “I promise. I’ll get you back home.”

When he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a hug, Lila collapses into him, her forehead pressed against his chest and her hands clutching onto the front of his wrinkled suit. She lets him take her full weight against him, eventually dragging them both down until they’re kneeling on the cold cement floor.

“Promise me,” Lila pleads in between sobs. “Promise me you’ll fix this.”

“I’ll fix it. I promise,” Five whispers as he rests his cheek on the top of her head.

They stay there for a few more minutes as Lila continues crying and Five rubs her back. Once she starts to settle down again, she sniffs loudly and Five can feel her body relax into his. He keeps holding her because he’s not quite sure when he should let go without seeming rude. In order to stave off the awkwardness that he feels is imminent, he clears his throat.

“You remember Dolores?”

There’s a pause. “You mean the mannequin you were shagging?”

Five grits his teeth. “Yes. That one.”

“What about her?”

“All those years it was just me and her. Forty-five years in my apocalypse and she was all I had. I loved her and she made me whole. We were a good team.”

Lila doesn’t say anything, but she adjusts herself and pulls away from Five. She shuffles back so that she’s leaning against the pillar again and Five joins her.

“I know how you feel, believe me. It’s horrible to be away from your family or the world you know. Not sure if you’ll ever make it back again, or if you’ll just die all alone with no one to grieve you. If I didn’t have Dolores…” Five swallows. “I don’t know what would have become of me. Humans just aren’t meant for solitary lives.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Five starts warily, “You aren’t alone. And neither am I this time. We have each other. And even if I could not imagine a more annoying person to be stranded in a matrix of shitty timelines with, I’m still glad you’re here with me.”

Lila looks over at him and sees he’s actually smiling. She wipes away the remaining tears that have slipped down to her chin. “You are?”

Five nods. “It’s true. We can do this, Lila. Because we’re not alone. Anything is possible when you have someone you can count on.”

As Lila studies Five’s face, something in hers switches. She leans in, slowly at first, and then lunges toward him, grabbing the lapels of his suitcoat and pulling him in for a kiss. Five quickly jerks his head back and leans as far away as possible, until his body is practically flat on the ground. Lila’s hands are still clutching at his coat and she leans over him as he sits up on his elbows.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks incredulously.

“I’m trying to kiss you, shithead. Now hold still.”

She leans in again, and Five risks a blink to get himself out of the situation as quickly as possible, leaving Lila falling forward onto the ground. He reappears a few feet away. The look on Lila’s face tells him she is not happy. And possibly insane.

“What is wrong with you?” Five barks. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

Lila stands up, brushing off her hands on her pant legs. “Apparently, I have! Because after your stupid, beautiful story, compounded with the fact that I haven’t touched a man in damn near seven years, you’re not looking so bad at the moment. And even if we do end up getting out of here, who knows how long that’s going to take. So, you’re all I have, as pathetic as that may be. Now, get over here so I can jump those puny little bones of yours.”

“Christ, Lila, get ahold of yourself!”

“What’s the matter? Scared that I’m a real woman?”

“No, actually there’s the small matter that you’re married to my brother. And you’re the mother of my nieces. And lest you forget, we have tried several times to kill one another in the past, so I’m thinking that may put a little damper on any romance between us. Shall I go on?”

Lila begins to look like she has a little more clarity again. “Right, that’s all true, isn’t it? You did once call me a sentient STD.”

Five gestures toward her and runs a hand through his hair in relief, letting out a loud exhale. “See? There you go!”

“Oh, god,” Lila starts, as she clutches her stomach. “I think I might be sick.”

“Alright, now you’re just being dramat—”

“No, no, really. I’m going to hurl,” she answers with a groan, doubling over and retching loudly.

Five crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Are you done?”

Lila spits a couple of times onto the ground and wipes her mouth with her coat sleeve. She nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Fabulous,” Five says dryly. Then he hands her a somewhat clean napkin he had stuffed in his pocket earlier. “Here.”

Lila takes the napkin and covers her mouth with it before looking guiltily at Five. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

Five’s posture relaxes again. “It’s ok. You just went a little off the deep end. It’s understandable. People in stressful situations do some pretty weird things.”

“Shit…I made it weird, didn’t I?”

Five chuckles. “I’ll get over it.” He leans cooly up against the cement pillar, crossing his ankles. “Besides, I now have some pretty great leverage over you. Now that you tried to fuck me.”

Lila gags again. “An attempted kiss is not the same as me trying to fuck you!”

Five’s mouth presses into a thin line and he cocks his head to the side, eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah…you tried to fuck me.”

“Oh screw you, you little…”

“See? There you go again,” Five interrupts, shaking his head sadly. “It’s like you just can’t help yourself. I do understand the impulse, but really Lila…keep it in your pants, ok?”

Lila’s face evolves from shock and rage to reluctant amusement, and soon she is cracking up laughing. Five joins her until they are both wiping tears from their faces.

“Oh, holy shit, I need to be locked up in the asylum again,” she wheezes out as her laughter starts to die down.

“That is a possibility,” Five says.

“I’m really sorry, Five.”

“I know. Are you going to be ok?”

Lila nods. “Yeah, I think so.” She plops herself down on the edge of the subway platform, swinging her legs. Five comes and sits next to her. “Thank you,” she says.

“No problem. I’m sure I’ll have a nervous breakdown next and you can talk me down from the ledge.”

“I really miss them, you know,” Lila says quietly. “I hope they don’t forget me.”

Five reaches over and snaps the elastic on the beaded bracelet that hasn’t left Lila’s wrist in 13-some years. “Don’t worry, they won’t. Diego loves you; he’d wait a thousand years for you. And you’re a good mom. Your kids know that.”

Another tear slips down her cheek. “Thanks, Five.”

There is a moment of silence, then Five looks over at her. “Now is the time you say something nice about me.”

Lila smiles and bumps him with her shoulder. “You aren’t so bad to have as an end-of-the-world partner.”

“Thank you.”

“You smell nice, too.”

“I smell nice?”

“Yeah. Even when we haven’t found a water source to wash off with for weeks, you never stink. I don’t know how you do it.”

Five laughs. “That may be the nicest compliment I have ever gotten, believe it or not.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lila leans in and rests her head on his shoulder. “God, I fucking hate this place.”

“Me, too.”

As if on cue, the loud whooshing noise of an incoming train can be heard approaching, and they blink against the bright headlamps that tear through the darkness.

“Well, here we go again,” Lila says as she takes Five’s hand and lets him pull her up to standing.

“Maybe this will be the last one,” he says with a shrug.

She grins at him. “Yeah, maybe it will be.”

As the doors open, Five gestures for her to go first. “I don’t want you checking out my ass,” he explains.

Lila snorts. “I can’t even if I wanted to, the damn thing’s so flat. Like a smashed hamburger.”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

As the two of them stand on the porch of Lila’s house, she rings her hands nervously.

“You’re sure it’s only been a short amount of time for them?”

Five nods. “I’m sure.”

“And you’re sure I don’t look like I’m a hundred years old?”

“You inexplicably look just like you did when you left. I don’t even know how we got our old clothes back, but like I said, time travel is—”

“A whiny bitch,” she finishes for him.

Five sighs. “Right. Ok, are you ready?”

Lila nods. “Yep, ready.” She reaches for the door and then pulls her hand away. She turns to Five and shoves a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare say anything about what happened.”

Five smiles cruelly. “You mean when you tried to force me into having sexual relations with you? Oh, no I wouldn’t dare. Unless I have to, obviously. I don’t want to have to lie to my own brother, after all.”

“Damn it! Fine, you little shit stick. I will pay for one whole year’s worth of dry cleaning for your crappy little suits. Deal?”

“No deal. You called my suits crappy.”

“Ugh!” Lila throws her hands in the air and looks at the door nervously. “A year’s worth of dry cleaning and I’ll finally introduce you to that cute, single teacher at Grace’s school that you’ve been eye-fucking for the last year.”

Five thinks it over. “Deal.” He sticks out his hand to shake hers with a lopsided grin.

“Thanks again for everything. It’s been…interesting. But I’m glad I had you there with me,” she says with a smile.

“I’m glad you were there, too. We make a good team.”

As they step inside the house, Lila sees immediately that Five had been right. No one has aged. Nothing has changed. Her entire family is right where she had left them and she bursts into tears. Diego comes up, carrying one of the twins and gives her a quick kiss.

“Are you crying? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Lila smiles through her tears. She reaches up and loops her arms around her husband’s neck, giving him a long and passionate kiss. “I just missed you, that’s all.”

As Diego stands there looking like a big dopey man in love, Five pipes up from behind.

“Hey Diego, good to see you again. Did you know your wife here tried to fuck m—”

Lila’s hand shoots out and without even looking, her fist rams right into Five’s crotch. As he gasps and wheezes, doubling over in pain, she smiles her wicked smile.

“Don’t mind him. Now what delicious thing did you make for dinner, darling? It smells amazing!”

[candycandy00]

Hii! For your 2k followers event can you do

Character: Toji

AU Setting: Prison (As prisoner)

Spice Level: NSFW

Mood: Writers choice :)

Kinks: Whatever you see fit!!

Catch You on the Outside - A Toji x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. AU. Fem Reader. Toji as a Prisoner. Rough sex. Rough oral.

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! These two requests were very similar so I combined them. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Dividers by @benkeibear!

You’re walking down the hall of the prison, just finishing your daily sessions with the prisoners in your therapy program, when you see him. 

Fushiguro Toji. You heard he was being transferred here, but you didn’t realize it would be today. He’s quite notorious, with a long list of convictions. Multiple counts of murder, extortion, armed robbery, assault, and dozens of lesser offenses. If it’s bad, he’s probably done it at some point. 

He’s so much bigger in person than he looked on the news. How tall is this guy? And he so muscular that he looks like he could wrestle a grizzly bear and win. He’s also much better looking in person. His face, though scarred and a bit rugged, is very handsome and his eyes are a sharp emerald green. 

As a team of six guards lead him by you, his eyes shift over to you. They travel shamelessly up and down your body, and it feels like his gaze is peeling your clothes off right there in the hall. It makes your face flush with heat. You’re no stranger to being ogled by the prisoners here, but there’s something absolutely obscene about the way Toji does it, the look in his eyes that says, “I’ll be fucking you by the weekend”, the way he subtly licks his lips, the way he smirks as if he could break loose and snap every guard’s neck before anyone could draw a gun.

It all sends a shiver down your spine. And as much as you hate to admit it, you feel a growing wetness in your panties. 

The next day you’re surprised to find out Toji signed up for the therapy program. He didn’t seem like the type to give therapy a shot, and you wonder if he only signed up so that he could be alone in a room with you. It wouldn’t be the first time a prisoner has tried that. You can always tell right away when they have no interest in actually talking about their feelings. They spend the session staring at your tits and sometimes even making disgusting comments or outright asking you for sex. You report their behavior and boot them from the program without a second thought. 

So what will it be with Toji? As you walk into the room to have your first session with him, you find yourself almost hoping he’ll proposition you. Of course you wouldn’t act on it. You’re a professional after all. But it might give you some masturbation material for tonight. Lord knows your brief run in with him yesterday gave you plenty for last night. 

He’s sitting in a metal chair, his wrists handcuffed behind his back. There’s a table in front of him, and another chair for you to sit across from him. Three guards are standing in the room. 

“You three can step out,” you tell them. Guards never stay in the room during sessions. Instead they wait outside the door. There’s also a camera in the corner of the room. It doesn’t record sound, only visuals, to protect the privacy of the prisoners. 

“We were told to stay in here,” one of them says. “Fushiguro has been known to attack doctors and therapists in the past.”

You glance over at him, and he gives you a smile. 

“He’s handcuffed, what’s he going to do?” you ask. 

One of the guards glances apprehensively at Toji. “I don’t think you realize how dangerous he is, ma’am.”

You bristle at that remark. “Are you seriously implying I don’t understand how dangerous my job is? I’ve worked with violent criminals daily for five years. I’ve had knives held to my throat. I’ve been punched in the face. Three different men have tried to rape me. So don’t tell me how dangerous this is!”

The guard seems to shrivel a bit at your outburst. “I’m sorry, but we can’t just leave you alone in here with him.”

“Listen,” you say, stepping closer to him, “doing my job properly depends on establishing trust with the prisoner. I can’t do that with you three hovering around in here. So wait outside the door. I’ll scream if he tries anything.”

The three guards look at each other, then one of them sighs and says, “We’ll give you twenty minutes.”

With that, they file out of the room and shut the door. You stare after them for a moment, feeling irritated but also proud of yourself for standing your ground. Then you walk over and take the seat across from Toji. 

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll have a word with the warden before tomorrow’s session,” you tell him, pulling your notepad and pen, as well as a recording device, from your bag. “Do you have any objections to me recording our conversations?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

You study his face. He still has that oddly confident look, as if he’s only staying here in prison for the fun of it. 

“Fushiguro-san, I want to make something clear right off the bat. If I think you’re not serious about this program, I’ll remove you immediately. But if you want to give therapy a fair shot, I’ll be happy to help you to the best of my ability.”

“Call me Toji,” he says, a smirk on his scarred lips. “And I’m completely serious about this. Why else would I sign up?”

You’ve already pushed record on the device and sat it between the two of you on the table. “Some prisoners sign up just to get close to me,” you say, opening your notebook to a clean page. 

“Really? Well don’t worry,” he says, that damn smirk still on his face, “I’m not that desperate. I’ve fucked enough women to last a lifetime.”

The comment gives you pause. Professionally, you should be relieved. But personally? You find it a little insulting. You click your fountain pen. “That’s good to know,” you say smoothly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re disappointed,” he says. 

“Of course not. It’s best for you if you see me as a professional here to help you.”

He laughs. “Best for you too.”

You look up from your notepad. “What do you mean by that?”

He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the way a lion looks at a wounded zebra. “If I saw you as a woman I wanna fuck, I’d have you bent over this table already.”

You know exactly what he’s doing, and he’s not the first. You sit your pen on the table and look at him with a cool expression. “And if I saw you as a man I want to fuck, Toji, I’d be under this table deep throating your cock right now. Thankfully, we’ve established that’s not the case, so let’s begin the session, shall we?”

His eyes widen slightly, then a broad grin spreads over his face. “Well, aren’t you a little firecracker!”

“No, I’m a woman who has dealt with men like you for years. So if you want to shock or frighten me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

There’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes as he stares at you. “How about I take these cuffs off and ram your pretty little head into the wall until it’s just a bloody pile of hamburger?”

You scoff as you jot down notes. In red ink you’ve written “violent tendencies” and “empty threats”. You barely glance up at him as you say, “You can’t just take the cuffs off, Toji. They’re pretty much designed to prevent that.”

“Really?” he asks, then he slowly pulls his hands forward in front of him. Only one has a cuff on it, the other metal ring dangling uselessly from it. 

Your first instinct is to jump up and flee the room. He’s loose! He’s probably been loose this whole time. The most violent man that’s ever been in this prison, that you’ve just been provoking, is just a few feet away from you. Should you scream? Could the guards even make it into the room before he kills you? 

Wait, if he wanted to kill you, he probably would have already. You decide to take a gamble. “So?” you ask, trying to keep your voice even, praying he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your hands. “What are you going to do to me, Toji?”

He’s already pulled his hands back behind him. His earlier movement had been subtle enough that the guard monitoring the camera probably didn’t even notice. Toji grins. “There’s a lot of things I wanna do to you. The list is growin’ the longer I talk to you. The question is, what do you want me to do?”

You look at him for a moment, at his smug, handsome face, at his muscular form flexing beneath the tightly fitted black T-shirt. Did the prison not have a shirt big enough for him? You sit back in your chair, crossing your legs. “I want you to take therapy seriously. I want to help-“

“You want me to split you open on my cock,” he says, cutting you off. “You think I can’t tell when a woman wants me? I bet your little pussy is drooling right now.”

You stare at him wordlessly. Damn it, he’s right! You uncross your legs and cross them again, trying to give yourself a bit of relief. You want his rough, thick fingers inside you. 

Toji leans back, letting his thighs spread apart. He’s pushed back far enough from the table for you to see his crotch, and the outline of something impossibly huge. He notices you looking. “That’s right. Take a good look. I bet you’ve never seen a dick this big before. Now imagine how it’s gonna feel when I’m ramming it in your tight little hole.”

Your breaths are coming quicker despite your best attempts to remain calm. You glance up at the camera in the corner. Toji follows your gaze. 

“I’m guessing you need to do something about that,” he says. “Probably wouldn’t look very professional to be on camera getting your guts rearranged by a prisoner, huh?”

You place the pen and notebook in your bag and stop the recording device. The twenty minutes are almost up. “I’ll think about it,” you say as calmly as you can. 

He smiles at you as the guard opens the door and escorts you out. 

For the next several days, you continue your sessions with Toji. Neither of you mention his proposition, and he never removes the handcuffs again, at least as far as you know. Still, just knowing he can if he wants to gives you a thrill. 

He’s surprisingly open during his sessions. He tells you about a miserable childhood, a violent youth, a marriage that ended in the death of the only woman he ever loved, and (most shocking of all) a teenage son he hasn’t seen in years. 

“I send him money,” he tells you. “He accepts it, but he never answers when I call or text him. Not that I blame him. Guess it’s embarrassing to have a murderer for a father.”

There’s a hint of sadness when he says it, the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from him. But he shrugs like he doesn’t care and moves on from the topic. 

Fushiguro Toji is a fascinating man. If possible, you’d love to help him. 

But first, you want him to fuck you until you can’t form thoughts. 

A week after your first session with him, you decide to do something about that damn camera. It’s an easy task for you, someone who can move freely through the prison and has the trust of everyone there. The first step is to disable the monitor in the security room, which you do with no issue. It’s a temporary thing though, so you have to hurry to the consultation room and disable the camera itself while the monitor isn’t working, so no one sees what you’re doing. 

Once the camera has been broken, you’re home free. You’ve worked here long enough to know it’ll take several days for them to replace the camera. 

So today, when the guards walk out of the room, you lock the door behind them. Toji notices, and glances at the camera. “I take it that’s not recording?”

You nod. “It’s completely busted.”

He moves his arms around in front of him, uncuffed, and stands up, rolling his shoulders. Then in an instant he’s right in front of you, pressing you back against the wall, looming over you with a threatening aura. “You’re takin’ a big risk,” he says, “being alone with a guy like me. You must want my dick real bad.”

Your heart is pounding. This man could snap your neck like a twig. He could kill you before you can blink. But fuck, you’re so turned on! 

You smile up at him, using your hands to press back against his chest. “Sit down and I’ll show you how much I want it.”

His eyes seem to light up. He wears that familiar smirk as he returns to the chair and sits, lazily opening his legs. As you walk over, you unbutton your crisp white shirt, revealing a sexy lace bra you picked for today. You drop the shirt on the floor and unzip your pencil skirt, stepping out of it. You’re wearing matching lace panties with silk stockings and a garter belt. You chose the sexiest combo possible for this encounter. 

Toji seems to appreciate your efforts. His eyes drink in your form as he palms himself through his prison issued sweat pants. Then he slides the waistband down, and the biggest cock you’ve ever seen pops out. Strong and tall like its owner, it’s already rock hard. It looks delicious. 

When you reach him, you drop to your knees in front of him and grasp his shaft in one hand. Your fingers can’t even wrap all the way around its veiny girth, but you stroke him slowly, watching the massive organ twitch in your grip. You lean forward and lick the tip, then slide your tongue all around it, drenching it with your saliva before taking it into your mouth. 

It doesn’t fit, but you manage to get most of it in without choking. You’re pretty proud of your throat game, so you press even further down, letting him fill your mouth completely, almost swallowing him. You hear a short grunt and feel his big hand on your head, holding you down. You focus on breathing through your nose, your tongue licking the underside of his cock while your throat tightens around him. 

Finally he releases his grip, and you pull back enough to lick him properly, sucking on the tip with your pursed lips. Then he’s in your mouth again, and you’re moving your head back and forth, looking up at his face as you repeatedly take him halfway down your throat. 

His hand is now resting on your head, not applying any pressure but threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck, you weren’t kiddin’ about bein’ hungry for my dick!”

After a few more minutes pass, his grip tightens again, and he shoves your head down even further than before, completely cutting off your air. Then, he shoots his cum directly down your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop. 

When he releases you and pulls out of your mouth, you sputter and gasp, then you diligently get to work cleaning his cock with your tongue, savoring the taste of his cum. You’re in a hurry to get him hard again. You’ve arranged for the sessions to last forty-five minutes, and you don’t intend to end this without being thoroughly fucked. 

Thankfully, Toji has plenty of stamina. He’s hard again in no time, standing up from the chair and tearing the delicate lace underwear from your body. You wince, trying not to think about how expensive they were. 

His hands are all over you, roughly exploring every inch. When his hand dips down between your thighs, and he feels how wet you are, he grins. You’re waiting for some quip, but instead he jerks you around to face away from him and pushes your upper half face down on the table. He gives your bare ass a slap before his hands spread your cheeks. His knees push your legs apart, and with no warning, he shoves all the way inside your dripping pussy. 

You gasp at the stretch, at how fucking huge he is, but he doesn’t hesitate for a moment before he’s pounding into you. He’s probably aware of the time limit himself, so he wastes no time with letting you adjust to his size. 

He fucks you hard, so hard that your feet are knocked off the floor and your legs dangle from the table. You hold onto the edge of it with both hands, gripping it for dear life, crying out obscenely each time his tip slams into your cervix. 

“Ahh, fuck! You’re gonna break me!” you yell. 

You hear Toji laugh behind you. “I thought you could handle me!”

You rise up from the table, arching your back, and reach back with one arm to grab his shirt and get some leverage. You take one of his hands from your waist and move it down, between your pried open thighs. He takes the hint, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it vigorously, spreading your leaking fluids all around. You moan at the touch, leaning back into him, letting the pleasure overtake you. 

With a thrill, you imagine the horrified looks on the guards’ faces if they walked in. You locked the door, but they have a keycard to open it. At best it would buy you a few seconds. But the thought of being caught moaning and cumming on a murderer’s cock sends you over the edge. You cry out, your body spasming as Toji impales you, your aching pussy clenching around him. 

“You got yours,” you hear him say, his fingers giving a quick pinch to your hyper sensitive clit, “now I’m gonna fill you up.”

You barely have time to process those words before you feel his hot cum shoot inside you, all the way to your core. 

When he’s finished, he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He watches you lean against the table for a few moments, trembling and trying to catch your breath, too exhausted and sore to even close your legs. But you have to straighten yourself out. The clock is ticking. You stagger over to your pile of clothes and pull them back on, shoving your shredded underwear into your bag. 

You look at him, sitting there looking so smug and calm… and so very fuckable. You reach into your bag and pull out the item you swiped from the security room earlier. You step over and hand it to him. 

“This is a master keycard. It should let you open any door until they figure it out. Do whatever you please with it,” you tell him. 

He takes it, slipping it into the pocket of his sweats. “Awful nice of you.”

“Go and see your son. Make things right with him.”

His eyes widen, then he looks away, seeming the slightest bit awkward for the first time. “You’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

You shrug. “So I won’t let anyone find out. Don’t snitch on me.”

He laughs as he looks back at you. “Thanks, doll. I’ll find you on the outside.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”

He smiles, the scar on his lips stretching. “It’s a promise.”