#I love how these questions focus on small personal moments

[ihadtohaveone-blog]

The moment Cervan turned the handle father burst through the door.

"how dare you! I allowed you to watch over her because I trusted you to keep your hands away. But no. You finally reveal your hand." Fathers eyes landed on you and in an instant he was at your side. "Your hair and dress is mess! Are you alright?"

"Father!" You squeaked. "I'm-i'm fine. Wha-what's going on? Why are you here?"

"What's going on is this snake sent me a farce of a letter!" A crumpled price of parchment was peaking out of father's vest. One with silver handwriting.

"Perhaps it is best to discuss this somewhere else? Perhaps over dinner?" Cervan proposed with a smile. The bastard was enjoying this. Enjoying your confusion. Enjoying your father's fury.

You glance at the grandfather clock. 7:30. "It is rather late." Your stomach agreed. Cervan laughed. "Fine" your father sighed.

The walk to the carriages was short. You could hear whispers here and there. You picked your transport, entered and off you went. Off to who knows where.

You were never one for meditation but you needed to make sense of this mess. What better place to start.

focus. Breath in. Breath out.

Why did silver handwriting so familiar? Something about the game? It been a lifetime since you played it. The game you were playing before you..... ended up here was divided into four levels.

The first two were the tutorial: one where you learned about the world and the layout, how much time you had in your day, and meet the male leads. The other was where you learned what you needed to do. Given small quizzes and events. There were no wrong answers. More of a personality test then anything.

The third was when the dating started. You had to juggle your classes, events, and dates.

The fourth and final level test your knowledge of the game. Questions about the world and characters. It would be easy if you had good memory. If you passed, You'd then be given a opportunity to confess and if your relationship was high enough, you'd received a picture of an envelope.

One wrapped in metallic colors, gold for the envelope, bronze for the stamp and written in silver. One that told you your happy ending.

Not that she ever picked anyone to get her happy ending! There wasn't even a harem ending! How the hell-

Focus. She's not important right now. Breath in. Breath out.

So Cervan sent father a proposal letter. Lovely. Stay calm. He'd need three people's approval for the engagement to through. Your fathers, which would be hard to convince him, given his reaction. The record keepers, his appeal came with checking for previous proposal contracts. And the king, his approval was more ceremonial.

Oh god. The king. What if he tells the first prince? And what if he tells the protagonist? Would she be happy? Upset? Angry? Your certain her harem would be. You getting married before us? How dare-

FOCUS.

Why would he do this? You weren't that important all things considered. You weren't high upon the ladder. You were from a merchants family. One that sold and bought that sought the nobles fancy. One that clawed and scraped enough to buy their title.

You have to admit you weighed the scales in your favor for your little portion. You used your otherworldly knowledge. No lead make ups. No pewter plates. No arsenic paints. You weren't stupid. You only annexed products you could connect injury too.

Perhaps that's why? Your knowledge from the other world? You can't be sure you didn't speak of any of it during your more drunken get togethers. Drink enough and anything could happen. Cervan could of taken advantage but he didn't because he cared for you.

Cervan cared for you.

You paused you musing to glance at him. He met your eyes and smiled. Your face heated up.

Would it be worth it? Marrying him?

You hope so. Because from the look in his eyes you don't think he'll let you go.

" We've arrived." The attendants voice called. Well.... onto dinner you suppose.

Bad End: Kept Safe (1)

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[the-offside-rule]

Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid) - My Ferrari Girl

Requested: yes

Prompt: F1 Driver!Reader x Jude Bellingham

Warnings: none to note

The Monaco Grand Prix always held a certain kind of magic, and this year was no different—except, for Y/n, it felt even more special. It was her first year with Scuderia Ferrari, and she was starting from second on the grid. With the glistening Mediterranean waters just beyond the track, it was hard not to feel the buzz of excitement. But today, there was an added layer of anticipation for her; Jude was in the paddock. This was the first time he’d made an official appearance as her boyfriend, but their relationship had been carefully kept under wraps until now. They had met in Monaco two years ago and had shared some magical moments, including sneaking off to the Champions League final in 2024 with Lando Norris. The romance between them had been slow-burning, and they’d kept it secret with only a few subtle likes and comments on social media to give fans something to speculate about.

Jude had been in her life through the highs and lows, and now, here they were, at the most prestigious race of the year, standing just feet apart but unable to make their love public... until now.

As Y/n stood with her mechanic beside her Ferrari, her hands lightly gripping the edge of the car, she discussed the race strategy. The air was thick with the anticipation of what was to come. Jude, on the other hand, stood off to the side with Alexandra, Charles Leclerc's girlfriend. Between the two Ferrari cars, they made casual small talk, discussing how stressful it would be watching the race from the hospitality suite. "Are you nervous?" Alexandra asked, glancing at Jude. His face was the picture of concentration, though a part of him wanted nothing more than to walk over to Y/N and wish her good luck in person. "Yeah." Jude admitted. "It’s going to be stressful. It’s Monaco, after all. But especially because she’s starting from second. It’s big for her."

Before he could say more, Martin Brundle appeared out of nowhere, microphone in hand. "Alexandra, how are you feeling about the race today?" Martin asked, his usual charm evident as he spoke. "And Jude, how are you finding the paddock life so far? You’ve got a real expert guiding you around with Alexandra." Jude smiled, trying to keep his cool. "It’s all been a bit overwhelming, to be honest. But I’m learning from the best." He said, glancing at Alexandra. Martin chuckled, then moved on to another question. "So, why Monaco? You’re usually busy with football. What makes this race so special for you?"

Jude’s eyes flicked toward Y/N as she adjusted her helmet, her focus on her car. A proud smile spread across his face. "I’ve always loved this race. But now," he paused, trying to collect his thoughts, "it’s especially special because my girlfriend is starting from second." Alexandra’s eyes widened in shock, and Martin’s expression mirrored hers. A long silence followed. Jude’s face immediately turned pale as he realized what he had just said. His hand shot to his mouth in a panic. "I... I mean... I didn’t mean to-"

Martin’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you’re saying your girlfriend? Who is she?" Jude took a deep breath, trying to salvage the moment. He turned and pointed toward Y/n, who was still talking to her mechanic. "That short girl in red? That’s the love of my life." Martin’s jaw dropped, and Alexandra struggled to hide a laugh. "Are you sure you want to go public with this now, Jude?" She teased. Jude let out a nervous laugh, still looking shocked. "I panicked, alright? I wasn’t ready for that... but, yeah, that’s her."

Martin turned back to Alexandra, his smile widening. "Well, I won’t bother her, but congratulations to both of you. Wishing you the best." As Martin moved on, Alexandra burst into laughter, elbowing Jude playfully. "You are in so much trouble."

"I know." Jude groaned, face red. "Y/n’s going to kill me." Sylvia, Ferrari’s PR manager, arrived just in time to rescue them. "The race is about to start. Let’s get you both to hospitality," she said, ushering them away. Before they parted ways, Jude quickly crossed the grid to Y/N, who was standing beside the car, adjusting her gloves. He gave her a brief but sweet kiss on the cheek. "Good luck." He whispered, his voice filled with affection. Y/n smiled at him, not knowing the chaos he had just caused. "Thank you." She replied, her focus still sharp.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The race was everything they expected. Intense, chaotic, and unpredictable. But in the end, it was a Ferrari 1-2 finish. Charles Leclerc took the victory, but Y/n had managed an impressive second place. The crowd erupted as the Ferrari team celebrated, but Jude couldn’t help but feel a little upset that most of the attention was on Charles. As Y/n climbed out of her car in Parc Fermé, she was greeted by cheers, but Jude didn’t mind. He walked right up to her, ignoring the cameras, and kissed her on the lips. His pride and love for her were palpable.

The two drivers disappeared into the Ferrari team area, while Jude and Alexandra stayed behind, discussing how stressful the race had been to watch. "I swear, I was about to pass out the entire time." Jude admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t blame you." Alexandra said with a smile. "But you should be proud. She was incredible." Jude nodded. "I am. More than I can explain."

As the celebrations continued, Jude stood proudly under the podium, his eyes fixed on Y/n as she was awarded her trophy. He felt a burst of pride watching her, knowing she had worked so hard to get here. After the ceremony, Y/n headed off to her media duties. She was immediately asked about the race and, as expected, was asked if it felt even more special with Jude there. She smiled and kept her answers cool. "It’s an honour to have someone like Jude supporting me. We’ve met a few times before, and it’s always great to have him here," she said, keeping it casual.

But then the journalist hit her with a curveball. "So, Jude let it slip on live broadcast today that you two have been dating for a while. What’s that all about?" Y/n’s eyes widened in confusion. "Wait, what?" The journalist pulled out his phone and showed her the clip of Jude’s accidental confession. Y/N let out a laugh, realizing what had happened. "Oh, he really did that, didn’t he?" She chuckled.

Before her next interview, she called Jude, unable to suppress her laughter. "Jude Bellingham, you just hard-launched our relationship on live TV. I can’t believe you." Jude’s voice came through the phone, full of sheepish amusement. "I panicked! You know I didn’t mean to." She smiled, looking down to the ground to avoid her PR manager tapping her watch. "Yeah, well, I’m going to have to deal with this now, aren’t I?" She teased, smiling despite herself. "Yeah, good luck, I love you, and I'm sorry." He chuckled. "Mind my trophy for me until I get back." Y/n said before hanging up and turning back to her PR manager. "Already getting you into trouble?" She asked. Y/n scoffed playfully. "That's what boyfriends are for. They're no fun without a little trouble."

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and katsuki are in their 3rd year, everyone is 18+, hand kink, this is actually rlly vanilla compared to everything else i’ve written GENRE: smut SUMMARY: you’re obsessed with your boyfriend’s strong hands and want his fingers in your mouth. WORD COUNT: 854 🦊’s A/N: sorry for how fucked up day 14 was LMAOOO also i’m sorry this is so short?? i’ll make up for it somehow

     for weeks now, you’d been asking your boyfriend to put his fingers in your mouth, or to let you suck on his fingers to soothe your oral fixation, just for him to shut you down each and every time. 

     and every time, you whined why?

     yet, without fail, he gave you the same response; because i don’t want you accidentally ingesting my sweat, idiot. it was out of care for your well being that he didn’t cave to a request-turned-demand that he wishes he could indulge you in desperately. but, whether he expressed it or not, katsuki was a caring person. …in his own aggressive manner, but anyone who knows him can tell when he cares for someone, as he becomes just the slightest bit softer around them, only has his guard half-way up instead of being on full defense mode all the time. and in regards to you? he more than just cared for you, he was stupidly, disgustingly in love with you. so much so, it made him physically ill. 

     that’s how he finds himself awake at midnight three weeks after your initial ask, locked away in his dorm room, the only thing illuminating the darkness being his laptop screen from underneath his sheets. he had gone down a rabbit hole on reddit about nitroglycerin and whether or not it was dangerous if consumed, how it tasted (as he had never… i dunno, licked his fuckin’ palms before like a little freak), what a lethal dosage was, etc.

     now, he feels a bit more prepared to yield to your demands next time you plead with him. as long as you don’t suck on them for an extended period, you should be fine—nitroglycerin was often used to help with chest pain in small doses, after all.

     so, the next time the two of you are getting hot and heavy in his dorm late at night, he finds himself pinning you to the bed, straddling your hips, erection pressing into your thinly clothed cunt—as you were both in nothing but your underwear—his chest pressing against yours, he finds his mind wandering to how he should go about this. 

     does he wait for you to bring it up again? or does he surprise you by taking the initiative..? tsk, like it’s even a question.

     pulling away from the sloppy kiss, he takes the opportunity to stick two of his fingers in your mouth when you go to ask him what he was doing—something that makes your eyes widen in shock for a brief moment before you’re grabbing at his thick wrist with both hands as you begin to suck his middle and ring fingers.

     katsuki bites his plump bottom lip as you swirl your tongue around and between the digits occupying your wet mouth before he suddenly has the muscle pinned down as he slides his fingers towards the back of your throat. 

      you can’t help but smile, and maybe moan a little, as he starts to essentially fingerfuck your mouth, nearly massaging your slick tongue but being just a bit too rough for it to be considered such. you were just content to finally get what you’d been begging for for weeks. 

     “mmmgh,” you moan softly, a noise that makes the blond smirk. 

     “enjoyin’ yourself?” he asks, more rhetorically than anything, but you answer him nonetheless.

     “mmhm,” you hum in response, closing your eyes as you focus on the taste of his fingers. they were… almost sweet? in a sense, but also left a light burning and tingling sensation behind in their wake—probably just the effects of the nitroglycerin, you think. nothing you hadn’t already thought of or considered. 

     spreading the thick digits, he splays them out to either side of your tongue, allowing you to move the muscle freely again 

     “kats…” you whine, rolling your hips up as you start to grow impatient, the feeling of his fingers in your mouth driving you crazy. nothing could have prepared you for how nice it felt. maybe it’s because it was like a forbidden treat for what seemed like the longest time, and now you were finally getting to indulge in it, and if not for the throbbing of your clit bringing you back to the real world, you think you could be content sucking on his thick and calloused digits for as long as he let you. 

     “mm–ow! you little shit!” he hisses when you suddenly bite down against his fingers, and he all but jerks them out of your mouth. “what was that for?”

     you can’t help but giggle and smirk at his confused expression.

     “felt like it,” you grin, looking up at him with nothing but mischief in your eyes.

     “fine, see if i ever let you suck on my fingers again,” he huffs, crossing his well-toned arms as he rolls his eyes.

     “wait, no–! ‘m sorry, baby; i was just fuckin’ with you, i won’t do it again, i promise,” you beg, propping yourself up on your forearms.

      fortunately, this time, it only took a few minutes of begging instead of a few weeks to get him to relent to your desperate pleas.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[kailoweenie]

Hii! I saw your fic on Hyun-ju and i was wondering if you do wlw because I WANT ONE WITH SE-MI SO BAD won ji an the woman you are🙏🙏 also pls can i req an an au where she doesnt die (spoilers)

Okay i will TRY but it's gonna be a bit short...😭 I'm not really a writer but I'll do my best for the winners love winning (wuh luh wuh) community, trust💪

Se-mi/player 380 X F! Reader

Author's note: takes place during the voting sequence where she chooses 'X' after a few games.

Reader is similar age but is younger than Se-mi, wether it's few months/years of whatever is up to you!

You swallowed a nervous lump down your throat, breath heavy as you watched one by one players going up to vote. A vote that will determine our chances of going back home....or not.

You had already voted, so did your friend. Both having agreed that this time the both of you will go home. Together.

Yet it didn't stop you from getting nervous each time the counter of going another round slowly caught up to the choice of going home.

Your friend in question stood beside you, eyes locked onto the screen, her short hair framing her pretty face- not that you'd ever say it out loud... at least, not until you're sure she'd even like you the same way.

You looked away before it seemed obvious you were staring- er- well, at least you hoped it wasn't obvious to her. Your hands fidgeted nervously by your sides, clenching and unclenching over and over. You could feel your nails digging into your skin as another player voted 'O'. It must've been pretty obvious you were beginning to panic, it was difficult not to when this whole thing could cost you your life.

Jerking in surprise, you felt a cold hand against yours, your head snapping towards your left as you watched the last person you expected to comfort you....holding your hand in hers.

"S-Se-mi unnie....?"

"Relax. You'd hurt yourself if you keep doing that" she spoke, glancing at you with a small reassuring smile. That damned smile of her made you immediately look away, focusing on the scene in front of you and not on the small heat that began to coat your cheeks.

Her thumb idly traced small circles on the skin of your hand, the action was small but it meant a lot coming from her. Your gaze kept flickering back and forth from her face to her hand, in awe at how calm she was in the moment. Despite the lack of words, just her presence itself was enough to calm you down.

At some point, your focus was only on the feeling of her hand on yours. Warm and soft. Your fingers intertwined with hers.

The sound of cheering from your group broke you out of the trance, your eyes gazed onto the screen, a bright smile Beginning to form on your face as you realized. This time...this time we could actually go home...we were going home!

Letting out a small yelp of surprise, you felt a pair of arms wrapping around you. Your face heating up as you felt her hair brushing the side of your face. "Let's go home" she muttered softly into your ear, a grateful and bittersweet smile on her face as she leaned away far enough to gaze into your eyes.

You blinked dumbfoundedly before shaking off your surprise. Nodding, a small smile graced your own face as you held her hand tighter

"Together."

[kiwriteswords]

Hi Ki! Could I get an Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader fic, where maybe she LOVES christmas and he's sorta grumpy about the whole thing and she really changes him!

A Season of Sunshine

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Female!Reader||Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: 5+1, Christmas, Sunshine Reader, fluff, mentions of grief, mentions of holiday sadness, mentions of alcohol in social setting, legit tooth-rotting fluff, slow burn, no use of Y/N.

Sypnosis: 5 times reader brought sunshine to Aaron Hotchner around the holidays, +1 time Hotch brought sunshine to her.

I.

Aaron Hotchner observed you from across the bullpen, your laughter ringing out like a bright bell amidst the quiet hum of clicking keyboards and murmured conversations.

The first snow of December swirled gently outside the frosted windows, a backdrop to your seemingly boundless energy. You were leaning over a desk, cheerfully handing out small, festively wrapped candy canes to your teammates.

You looked so happy. That was the thought that lingered in Hotch’s mind as he watched you move from desk to desk, your smile contagious enough to soften even the usually stoic faces of Rossi and Morgan.

“You’re going to give me a cavity, Sunshine,” Morgan teased as you placed a candy cane on his keyboard.

“That’s what dentists are for,” you replied with a wink, earning a chuckle from him.

Hotch’s lips twitched, but the smile never fully formed. It was a rare thing for him these days, and while he appreciated your attempts to brighten the team’s spirits, he couldn’t help but question how someone who dealt with the kind of darkness their job revealed could remain so light—so...sunny.

The holidays were always difficult. For everyone. Suicide rates spiked, depression deepened, and grief—a familiar companion for Hotch—seemed sharper in the winter cold. He thought about Jack, about the guilt that came with knowing his son’s memories of Christmases past were punctuated by his absence, his work always pulling him away.

And then there was you. The newest member of the team. This was your first Christmas with the BAU, and you’d already brought in a small, sparkling tree to decorate the corner of the bullpen, strung colorful lights across your desk, and started an advent calendar that you insisted everyone participate in. You’d even convinced Penelope to wear a reindeer headband, complete with jingle bells that she delighted in shaking whenever someone passed her office.

“Hotch?”

Your voice startled him from his thoughts. He realized belatedly that you were standing in front of his desk, holding out a candy cane with a hopeful smile. Up close, you were radiant, your eyes sparkling with holiday cheer.

“For me?” he asked dryly, glancing at the candy cane as though it might be a trap.

“Of course. Everyone gets one,” you said, placing it neatly beside his coffee mug. “It’s peppermint. Good for focus.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. There’s research on it and everything,” you replied, as though your enthusiasm alone could make it true. You lingered a moment, tilting your head to study him. “You’re not much of a Christmas person, are you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied carefully.

“But you wouldn’t say you are one, either,” you countered, your smile never faltering. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix that.”

And with that, you were gone, leaving him with the candy cane and a faint scent of pine and vanilla trailing in your wake. Hotch’s gaze followed you as you returned to your desk, now chatting animatedly with JJ about the best Christmas movies.

He shook his head slightly, turning back to the stack of case files in front of him. Fix that, you’d said. As if he were some project in need of holiday spirit. He supposed he should’ve been annoyed, but there was something about your relentless optimism that he found...endearing.

Over the next few days, your efforts to “fix” him grew more deliberate. A holiday playlist softly played in the background of the bullpen, courtesy of you and Garcia. You organized a Secret Santa exchange, somehow roping even the most reluctant members of the team into participating. When the team went out for an after-hours dinner, you’d insisted on ordering hot cocoa for everyone, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.

It was infectious, your enthusiasm. Even Hotch, who prided himself on his unshakable focus, found himself humming along to a Christmas tune as he reviewed case notes late one evening. He stopped mid-hum, frowning. You’d gotten to him.

By the time the team’s annual holiday gathering rolled around, Hotch couldn’t deny the shift in the atmosphere. The bullpen felt lighter, more alive, and the credit undeniably belonged to you. Yet, he still struggled to reconcile how you could be so bright amidst the shadows they encountered daily.

That evening, after most of the team had left, Hotch found himself standing by the small tree you’d brought in. The lights twinkled warmly, and a single wrapped present with Jack’s name sat underneath. You’d insisted on helping him pick out something special for his son, your genuine excitement rivaling that of any child on Christmas morning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He turned to find you standing beside him, your coat draped over your arm.

“It is,” he admitted quietly.

“I know this time of year can be hard,” you said softly, your voice losing some of its usual buoyancy. “But it can also be really beautiful, in its own way.”

Hotch studied you for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in your expression. “How do you do it?” he asked finally. “Stay so…”

“Happy?” you finished for him, smiling faintly. “I’m not always happy, Hotch. But I try to focus on the good things, especially when the world feels dark. It helps.”

“Focus on the good things,” he repeated, almost to himself. His gaze shifted back to the tree, the warm glow of the lights reflecting in his eyes.

“Exactly. Like candy canes and Christmas trees,” you teased gently, nudging his arm.

For the first time in a long while, Hotch allowed himself a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected gratitude. “For what?”

“For reminding me.”

You tilted your head, your smile widening as you replied, “Anytime, Boss.”

And for the first time, Aaron Hotchner found himself looking forward to Christmas.

II.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the corner of David Rossi's cozy living room, a glass of sparkling water in hand. The house was warm and bright, filled with the soft glow of Christmas lights and the hum of cheerful conversation. Children’s laughter rang out from the area near the tree, where Jack, Henry, and Michael were busy examining their gifts while Savannah held baby Hank on her lap, cooing softly to him.

Hotch’s gaze drifted to you, as it often did these days. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jack, helping him assemble a toy airplane with nimble fingers and endless patience. Jack’s face was lit with excitement as he explained the steps in his careful, deliberate way, and you listened with an encouraging smile. Occasionally, you glanced up to share a warm look or quick comment with the adults nearby, your laughter soft and genuine.

You looked so happy. And watching you, Hotch felt something he couldn’t quite name. Warmth, perhaps, or an ache just beneath it.

It had been over a year since you joined the team, and in that time, you’d become the one person who could cut through his carefully guarded exterior. You had a way of disarming him with your relentless optimism, your knack for seeing light in the darkest moments. He’d felt it most acutely during the holidays, when the weight of loss and responsibility pressed hardest against him. Somehow, you always managed to draw him out, to remind him that there was still beauty in the world.

“Dad!” Jack called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Look at this!”

Hotch stepped closer to the group, bending down as Jack held up the half-assembled airplane. “That’s impressive,” he said, his voice warm. “You’ve got a good helper.”

“Your dad’s just saying that because I haven’t broken anything yet,” you teased, glancing up at Hotch with a grin. There was a faint blush on your cheeks—likely from the eggnog you’d been enjoying—and your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Not yet,” Hotch replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.

You gasped in mock offense, your laughter bubbling up. “I’ll have you know, I am an expert toy assembler. Just ask Henry.”

Henry, who was sitting nearby, nodded sagely. “She’s really good,” he said, earning a chuckle from the adults.

As the evening wore on, the children settled into a quieter rhythm, playing together under Savannah’s watchful eye. The adults moved to the kitchen, chatting over mulled wine and eggnog. You lingered by the doorway for a moment before making your way toward Hotch, who had retreated to the quieter edge of the room.

“You’re hiding,” you said, your tone light but teasing.

“Just taking a moment,” he replied, glancing down at you. You’d swapped your eggnog for water, but the slight sway in your stance betrayed your earlier indulgence.

“It’s Christmas,” you said softly. “No moments allowed. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” he said, and it surprised him how true it felt.

You studied him for a moment, your smile softening. “Good. You deserve it.”

The warmth in your voice unsettled him, and yet he couldn’t look away. You had a way of seeing him that no one else did, peeling back the layers he worked so hard to maintain. It was disarming, intoxicating, and he didn’t know whether to thank you or guard himself more fiercely.

“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Bringing people together. Making them feel…better.”

You tilted your head, your expression turning thoughtful. “I try. It’s not always easy, though. Especially with you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you said, your eyes brightening again. “And you should also consider letting yourself enjoy things a little more. Just a thought.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replied, and the soft, teasing edge in his tone made your smile widen.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You looked up at him with an openness that made his chest tighten, and he found himself wondering—not for the first time—how someone like you had ended up here, in a world so often filled with darkness.

“Merry Christmas, Hotch,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that lingered long after you’d turned to rejoin the group.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for the first time in years, he meant it.

III. 

Aaron Hotchner stared out the window of the small motel room, the cheap curtains drawn back to reveal the dim glow of Christmas lights strung up on a nearby house. It was the only reminder of the holiday, a faint glimmer of cheer amidst the grim reality of their current case. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, tired and drawn, the weight of the day etched into the lines of his face.

The case was bad—one of the worst. Children were involved, and they were short-staffed, with JJ staying behind to be with Henry and Michael. Hotch had insisted on it, even though it meant carrying the guilt of being away from Jack. Jack, who was now old enough to understand that his father’s work sometimes came before everything else. Old enough to feel the sting of his absence.

The thought gnawed at him, a sharp pang that had been with him all day. This was a Christmas Jack might remember—one of the few left before he stopped believing in the magic of the holiday. And Hotch wasn’t there. He should’ve been there.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, half expecting Morgan or Rossi, but it was you. You stood there with a small smile, a wrapped package tucked under one arm. Your presence alone was a balm, a brief respite from the heaviness that seemed to cling to him.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice quiet but warm. You weren’t your usual bubbly self tonight—the weight of the case had tempered your sunshine—but there was still a light in your eyes that seemed undimmed.

He nodded, stepping back to let you in. You placed the package on the small table near the window, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned to face him.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend Christmas,” you said softly, your gaze steady on his. “But I thought maybe we could try to make it feel a little more like home.”

Hotch felt his throat tighten as you handed him the gift, your smile tinged with something tender. He unwrapped it carefully, his fingers brushing against the edges of the frame as he revealed the photo inside. It was a candid shot of him and Jack, taken during one of their rare moments of unguarded joy. Jack was laughing, his arms thrown around his father’s neck, and Hotch’s own smile was wide and genuine—a version of himself he hardly recognized anymore.

“Where did you…” His voice faltered as he looked up at you.

“I snuck a photo of you two over the summer at the get-together Penelope hosted,” you admitted, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “I thought you might want something to remind you of him. Especially tonight.”

He swallowed hard, the emotion catching him off guard. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice rough. “This means a lot.”

You smiled, that warm, gentle smile that always seemed to soften the edges of his world. “I’m glad.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the faint hum of the heater. Then Hotch cleared his throat, his gaze shifting back to you. “Would you…stay for a while?” he asked, surprising even himself. “I…I think I could use the company.”

Your smile widened, and you nodded. “I’d like that.”

The two of you settled on the edge of the bed, a small laptop propped between you as you queued up an old Christmas movie. The screen cast a soft glow over the room, the sound of holiday music mingling with the rustle of case files as you both worked quietly. Occasionally, you’d make a comment about the movie, drawing a rare chuckle from him, or he’d ask for your input on a theory for the case, your perspective always sharper than you gave yourself credit for.

As the hours passed, the weight on his chest seemed to lift, just a little. Your presence was steady, grounding, and he found himself watching you more than the screen. The way your eyes lit up during certain scenes, the way your laughter softened the edges of his grief, the way you leaned just slightly toward him, as though drawn by some invisible force.

Eventually, the movie ended, and the case files lay forgotten on the nightstand. You’d curled up on your side of the bed, your head resting on the pillow as sleep claimed you. Hotch sat beside you for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of your breathing, the peaceful expression on your face.

Carefully, he slid down beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. As his eyes closed, the photo of Jack on the nightstand caught his gaze one last time. For the first time that day, he felt a flicker of peace.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured softly, the words barely audible in the quiet room. And for the first time in years, he meant it.

IV.

Aaron Hotchner adjusted his tie as he stepped into the bustling bullpen, the hum of holiday cheer filling the space. Twinkling lights wrapped around cubicle dividers, and Penelope Garcia had outdone herself again, transforming the office into a festive wonderland. The annual Christmas gathering was in full swing, and the team—his family, as much as he’d allow himself to admit it—were mingling, laughing, and enjoying the break from their usual grim reality.

He scanned the room automatically, his eyes landing on you. You were by the snack table, laughing with Morgan and JJ, your smile radiant under the soft glow of the holiday lights. You wore a deep green sweater that somehow managed to be both festive and professional, and your laughter, as always, was the kind of sound that warmed even the coldest corners of his heart. Jack adored you, the team adored you, and though he’d never said it aloud, Hotch knew you were the brightest part of his life. The thought lingered, unspoken but ever-present.

“Hotch, my man,” Morgan called, clapping him on the back. “Looking sharp as always. You’ve got to come try Garcia’s infamous eggnog. It’s got a kick that’ll put hair on your chest.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll pass.”

Morgan smirked but said nothing, his eyes flicking briefly toward you. Hotch didn’t miss the knowing glance, but he chose not to comment. The team had been teasing him for months now, their thinly veiled remarks about how well you two complemented each other becoming harder to ignore. And the truth was, they weren’t wrong. You were the sunshine to his shadow, and no matter how hard he tried to maintain his stoic demeanor, you always found a way to break through.

“Hotch, come here for a sec!” Penelope called, waving him toward the breakroom with an exaggerated flourish. Her excitement was suspicious, but he indulged her, weaving through the crowd of colleagues.

You were already there, standing by the counter with a cup of cocoa in hand, your head tilting in curiosity when you saw him approach. “What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and Penelope.

Penelope’s grin was practically devious. “Oh, nothing,” she said innocently, gesturing upward. “Except...look up.”

Hotch followed her gaze, his stomach sinking slightly as he spotted the small sprig of mistletoe dangling above the two of you. He heard the team’s collective laughter and chatter outside the door, and when he looked back at you, he saw the faint flush that crept up your cheeks.

“Penelope,” he said, his tone even but edged with warning. “This seems highly inappropriate.”

“Oh, come on, Hotch,” Morgan’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Don’t be a Grinch. It’s tradition!”

The team’s voices joined in, a chorus of good-natured peer pressure that only made the situation more absurd. You laughed softly, glancing at him with a mixture of amusement and resignation. “Looks like we’re outnumbered,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hotch’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile threatening to surface. “It seems that way.”

You stepped closer, your expression softening as you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. The warmth of your touch lingered, and when you pulled back, you gave the team an exaggerated shrug. “That’s all you’re getting. This seems like an HR nightmare waiting to happen.”

The team erupted in laughter and groans, their teasing echoing through the room as they slowly dispersed, leaving the two of you alone. Hotch stood there, momentarily stunned. He was rarely caught off guard, but something about the way you’d handled the moment—with grace, humor, and that unshakable light of yours—had left him uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“You’re quiet,” you remarked, breaking the silence. There was a hint of teasing in your tone, but your eyes held something deeper.

Before he could respond, you stepped closer again, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious note. “For the record,” you said, your gaze locking with his, “I’ve thought about doing this for a very long time.”

And then you kissed him. Fully, softly, your lips brushing his with a warmth that stole his breath. It wasn’t hurried or fleeting, but gentle and deliberate, a kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. When you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, but there was a quiet confidence in your expression.

“Merry Christmas, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying that same warmth that always seemed to anchor him. And before he could find the words to respond, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there beneath the mistletoe, the faint taste of peppermint and cocoa lingering on his lips.

He stared after you, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t quite name. You’d left him stunned, questioning everything he’d been holding back for so long. And for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder—really wonder—what he was waiting for.

Aaron Hotchner stood frozen beneath the mistletoe, replaying the moment over in his mind. Your touch, the warmth of your lips, the quiet confidence in your voice as you walked away—it all lingered like a soft hum, reverberating through him. For a man who thrived on control, who prided himself on composure, he was suddenly untethered.

The sound of laughter and conversation from the bullpen drifted faintly into the breakroom, but Hotch barely registered it. His gaze had followed you as you disappeared through the doorway, the gentle sway of your steps a stark contrast to the rapid thrum of his pulse. He raised a hand to his cheek, where your earlier, teasing kiss still burned faintly, before letting it drop.

He should follow you. Say something. Do something. But what? His mind, usually so sharp and analytical, felt slow and uncertain. You’d left him with no doubt about your feelings, and yet he still found himself grappling with the implications, the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

The door creaked slightly, and Morgan’s head poked through, a smirk firmly in place. “Hey, Hotch, you coming back out? Or are you still processing?”

Hotch shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, his tone even but quieter than usual.

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Take your time, man. But don’t let her get too far ahead of you. She’s got a lot of sunshine to give, and you’ve been standing in the shade too long.”

With that, Morgan disappeared, leaving Hotch alone once more. He exhaled deeply, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For all his teasing, Morgan wasn’t wrong. You were sunshine, the kind that warmed even the coldest, darkest parts of him. And maybe—just maybe—he was ready to step into that light.

With a resolute breath, he straightened his tie and stepped out of the breakroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. You were by the tree now, talking with JJ and Garcia, your laughter carrying softly over the hum of the party. For the first time, Hotch felt a clarity he hadn’t allowed himself before.

He wasn’t going to wait anymore.

V.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the kitchen; his sleeves rolled up as he finished drying the last of the dishes. The faint sounds of Jack’s laughter drifted in from the living room, where you were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, sorting through the pieces of a puzzle you’d brought as a Christmas gift. Jack, now a teenager, had grown taller and lankier in the past year, but his laughter still carried the same unfiltered joy that made Hotch’s chest ache with pride and affection.

He glanced over his shoulder to see the two of you working together, your head bent close to Jack’s as you studied the image on the puzzle box. You wore a soft red sweater, simple but elegant, and jeans that hinted at your easygoing nature. The twinkling lights from the Christmas tree reflected in your eyes as you laughed softly at something Jack said. Hotch couldn’t help but marvel at the way you fit so seamlessly into his life, the way you made everything—even something as ordinary as a puzzle—feel special.

The evening had been everything he could have hoped for. You’d arrived earlier with a bright smile, carrying a bag of gifts and a small dish of your signature dessert. Jack had met you at the door with a quick hug and an eager grin, his awkward teenage reserve slipping away in your presence. You’d brought him a few thoughtful gifts, including a hardcover art book filled with sketches and techniques, knowing he’d taken up drawing. Jack had practically beamed as he flipped through the pages, his gratitude clear in the way he couldn’t stop thanking you.

For you, Hotch had chosen something more personal. When he’d handed you the small wrapped box after dinner, you’d looked at him curiously, your fingers carefully peeling back the paper. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet with a single charm—a tiny sun.

“It reminded me of you,” he’d said simply, his voice quiet but steady.

Your breath had caught, your eyes shining as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “Aaron,” you’d murmured, your voice soft with emotion. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He’d watched as you fastened it around your wrist, the charm catching the light in a way that seemed fitting. You were his sunshine, after all—the bright spot in his darkest days.

You hadn’t come empty-handed either. You had given Hotch a new tie, one that followed a similar pattern to his others--it was very him. You’d slipped back to your bag and pulled out another box, this one wrapped in dark green paper with a neat silver bow. “This is for you,” you’d said, holding it out to him with a touch of nervousness in your smile.

Hotch had unwrapped it carefully, revealing an elegant, framed photo of himself and Jack. The picture was candid, taken during one of Jack’s soccer games earlier in the year. Jack was grinning, his arm slung casually around his father’s shoulders, and Hotch was mid-laugh, a rare moment of unguarded joy captured perfectly. These moments so far and few these days, Jack growing up before his eyes so fast. He couldn’t help but worry if he had missed too much, but this photo was a reminder he was present. 

“I thought you could use an updated photo of the two of you,” you’d explained, watching him closely. “I thought it might be nice to have a reminder of how much Jack adores you.”

For a moment, Hotch hadn’t been able to speak. He’d traced the edge of the frame with his fingers, his throat tightening as he looked up at you. “It’s perfect,” he’d said simply, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you.”

Now, as he stepped into the living room, he saw Jack stretch and yawn dramatically, the puzzle only half-finished. “I’m heading to bed,” Jack announced, his voice carrying the exaggerated tone of a teenager.

“Goodnight, kiddo,” you said warmly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. Jack groaned in protest but didn’t pull away, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Dad,” Jack said, pausing by Hotch’s side before wishing you goodnight, “Thanks for the gifts; I loved them.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your smile softening as Jack disappeared upstairs.

Hotch settled beside you on the couch, the warmth of the fire casting a gentle glow over the room. You tucked your legs beneath you, leaning slightly into his side as he rested an arm along the back of the couch. The quiet filled the space like a comforting blanket, and for a moment, Hotch simply let himself savor it.

“I think he likes you more than he likes me,” he said, his tone teasing but tinged with sincerity.

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look up at him. “I’m just trying to win him over with gifts and puzzles. It’s all part of my master plan.”

Hotch chuckled, his thumb brushing idly against your arm. “It’s working.”

Your smile lingered, but your expression shifted slightly, growing more thoughtful. “Aaron,” you began, your voice softer now. “Can I tell you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady as he turned to face you fully. “Of course.”

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the edge of the throw pillow beside you. Then you looked up, your eyes meeting his with an openness that made his chest tighten.

“This past year has been… incredible,” you said, your voice tinged with emotion. “Being with you, getting to know Jack, feeling like I’m part of something so special… I can’t even put it into words.”

He listened intently, his hand still resting on your arm, his thumb now tracing small, reassuring circles.

“What I’m trying to say is… I love you,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly on the last word. “And I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but tonight felt right.”

The room seemed to be still, the faint crackle of the fire the only sound as your words hung between you. Hotch felt his breath hitch, his chest swelling with an emotion so profound it left him momentarily speechless. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he leaned closer.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “More than I can ever say.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but your smile was radiant as you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his. For a long moment, the two of you simply stayed like that; the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

Later, as the fire burned low and the room grew quieter still, Hotch held you close, his arm draped around your shoulders. He glanced at the bracelet on your wrist, the tiny sun catching the last flickers of light.

“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence, “I’ve thought about telling you for so long, but I kept overthinking it. I was so nervous you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Hotch’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, his voice quiet but firm. “You never had to worry about that,” he said. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my life. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it.”

You looked up at him, your smile soft but full of emotion. “We’re quite the pair, huh? Overthinking everything when it’s so obvious.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you. “Maybe. But I think we got it right in the end.”

Your hand brushed against his, your fingers intertwining. “The best kind of right,” you murmured.

Hotch pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the weight of your words and the warmth of your presence filling him with a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. As the fire flickered its last embers, he held you close, silently marveling at how you’d turned his world into something brighter than he’d ever thought possible.

+I

Aaron Hotchner stood in the middle of the living room, adjusting the final string of twinkling lights around the small tree you and Jack had picked out together the week before. It was early Christmas morning, and the house was quiet save for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint sound of Jack’s laughter from the video game he was playing upstairs. Hotch had been up for hours, carefully setting everything into place for what he hoped would be the perfect day.

Living with you had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the warmth you brought to his home but the way you’d taught him to savor moments, to lean into the joy of life rather than keeping it at arm’s length. This Christmas, he wanted to return the favor.

The first part of his plan unfolded at the BAU’s holiday party earlier that week. For the first time, Hotch had embraced the festivities rather than standing on the sidelines. He’d worked with Penelope to set up a hot cocoa bar, complete with toppings and festive mugs, and even organized a Secret Santa exchange. When you’d arrived in your cozy sweater and bright smile, you’d lit up even more upon seeing what he’d done.

“You did all this?” you’d asked, looking around at the decorated conference room.

“I had help,” he admitted, his lips curving into a rare smile. “But I thought it might be nice to bring a little sunshine to the team. You’ve inspired me.”

Your cheeks had flushed at his words, your smile widening as you leaned into his side. “I think it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

Now, at home, he hoped to create something equally memorable. He’d waited until you were fast asleep the night before to finish wrapping the small but meaningful gifts he’d chosen for you. Among them was a leather-bound journal with your initials embossed in gold, a nod to the way you’d always jot down your thoughts or ideas. But the most significant gift was hidden beneath the tree, tucked inside a small box. It wasn’t extravagant—Hotch had never been one for grand gestures—but it was deeply personal.

When you came down the stairs later that morning, your hair still slightly mussed from sleep and a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, you froze at the sight of the living room. The tree glowed softly, surrounded by neatly wrapped presents, and the mantle was adorned with garland and stockings. On the coffee table sat a tray with freshly brewed coffee and your favorite pastries.

“Aaron,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. “Did you do all this?”

“Merry Christmas,” he said simply, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I wanted to make it special for you. For us.”

You looked at him, your eyes shining as you took it all in. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

The morning passed in a blur of laughter and warmth as you and Jack opened gifts together. The journal earned a quiet, heartfelt thank you, but it was the last box Hotch handed you that brought tears to your eyes. Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny sun-shaped charm, a perfect match to the bracelet he’d given you the year before.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over the charm. “I love it.”

“It reminded me of you,” he said, his voice low. “And of everything you’ve brought into my life.”

Later, as Jack retreated upstairs to play with his new gifts--mainly video games this year, you and Hotch curled up on the couch together. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room as you rested your head against his chest.

“You really outdid yourself this year,” you murmured, your voice filled with affection. “You’re like a whole new person.”

“Not new,” he corrected gently, his hand tracing slow, comforting circles on your back. “Just better. Because of you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your smile soft but radiant. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. And you’ve given me the best Christmas I could ever ask for.”

He leaned down to kiss you, his heart full in a way he hadn’t thought possible. “I love you too,” he said softly. And as he held you close, the warmth of the season and the light of your presence surrounding him, he knew that this—this life with you—was the greatest gift he could ever receive.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

[shrimpybbq]

green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

[kaiser1ns]

The after-party was getting dull, and you were exhausted, longing for the comfort of home, the warmth of your bed, and the fluffiest blankets you owned. The soft mattress, the mountain of plushies—some gifted by Itoshi Sae, others by Michael Kaiser—called to you. Sae watched the scene from afar, swirling a champagne glass as he observed you and Kaiser sitting on the cold balcony stairs, sharing a piece of cake. The striker leaned closer, taking small bites as you offered, enjoying your company. The midfielder sighed and eventually joined, sitting beside you, which put you in the middle of them both.

A chilly breeze swept through, and you shivered slightly. Your dress, beautiful but strapless, wasn’t much protection against the cool air, though It was gorgeous, something you’d want to wear every day, but sadly, it was from a fashion house and would have to be returned. Suddenly, warmth settled around your shoulders. Kaiser had wrapped his jacket around you, flashing a soft smile before smirking at Sae. You didn’t notice Sae’s reaction, distracted by the night sky above. So many stars—a constellation not unlike the football stars in the team you worked for, Re Al. The best team in the world, a rare privilege you held, to be close to legendary players like Modric, Kroos, Ronaldo, and Zidane.

And now, the team’s rising stars—the Japanese and German prodigies, both members of the New Generation World XI, each easily affected by the other’s smallest provocation.

"Quick on the field, slow to treat a lady, aren’t you, Sae?” Kaiser teased, raising an eyebrow, and running a tattooed hand through his hair. The midfielder shot him a glare, moments from tossing his drink to wipe the smug grin off his teammate's face, but you interrupted, resting your head on Sae’s shoulder.

“Do you ever wonder… what life would have been like,” you murmured. The two paused their banter, curious. Snuggled in Kaiser’s jacket, you went on, “…if we’d never joined Re Al, or the world of football at all?”

Sae and Kaiser exchanged glances, taken aback. It wasn’t like you to ask questions like this, and you rarely drank that much. But when they looked back at you, your eyes were closed—not asleep, just calm, relaxing for once without making Sae jealous or flirting with Kaiser. For now, you stayed neutral. You knew you loved them both, but the question was—who?

A question for another time, you thought. Reopening your eyes to watch your breath form a small cloud in the cool night air. “Usually, both of you have something to say… so?”

Sae answered first, setting his glass down and absently twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “I probably would have had a normal life. A happy one. Maybe my personality wouldn’t have turned out quite like this.” You hummed softly, glancing over at Kaiser, who looked uncharacteristically sad, and … upset. Had your question touched a nerve?

“Do you want to share, Misha?” you asked. He quickly regained his composure, losing his blue tie as he too looked up at the sky

“Probably a criminal, or something,” he shrugged it off quickly, yet the pain lingered behind his eyes. After Kaiser’s answer, a soft silence settled over the three of you. You could sense that this wasn’t the time to dig further; if he wanted to share more, he would. Instead, you shifted, resting your head on Kaiser’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

“There’s no salvation in the past,” he murmured, his voice low. “So don’t think about it. Focus on what’s happening now.” But his words drifted past you as sleep tugged at your eyelids. Kaiser noticed, chuckling softly at how peaceful you looked as you began to doze off.

Carefully, he nudged you up, steadying you on your feet. Sae, still sitting, glanced up at the way you seemed exhausted and on the verge of falling asleep right here on the spot as he too thought the same, that you were so cute.

“Might be the last time we have such a peaceful moment like this,” Kaiser said quietly. “Let’s bring her home.”

The two of them helped you down the stairs, keeping you steady. They’d make sure you got home safe and sound and hoped for no paparazzi photos first thing in the morning. Both of them here, looking out for you, felt like a gift from the universe itself—having them not only in your life but in your heart.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[enwoso]

heyyyy i absolutely love the grumpy universe and i was wondering if your comfortable with writing it, could we get a fic of lovie meeting her dad or him reaching out to alessia to meet her?

A BRIDGE TO CROSS | alessia russo x child!reader

wow this is a long one, so i hope when reading this your comfy! i did decide to put the flashback in here and if any other questions arise from please ask away. also lovie’s not really in this one till later on, its more focused on alessia for once rather than lovie — but don’t worry she’s in it a little later on.

all that’s left from me is to say enjoy!

grumpy masterlist

a late afternoon sun spilled through the windows of alessia's kitchen, painting the room in a soft glow. the hum of life surrounding her as she answered a few work emails she hadn't had a chance to reply to yet while nursing a cup of now warm coffee.

you, sat across the living room floor, in alessia's eyeline from the open plan area as you hummed off-key with crayons sprawled across the floor. the floor being a chaotic masterpiece of mismatched papers, open markers and alessia's worst enemy at the moment, glitter glue.

alessia had been trying to focus on the emails from her agency on upcoming media appearances and events but her gaze kept drifting to her phone which sat beside her coffee mug like a ticking time bomb.

the message had arrived out of nowhere, a text message from harrison reed, her ex boyfriend from college who also happened to be your biological father.

alessia didn't even have the slightest idea on how he could of managed to get her phone number, it being reserved for only those closest to her. it had been years since she'd even though about hearing from him and yet, there it was. five words long.

(maybe harrison) | ‘i want to meet her.’

the words sat heavy in her chest, replaying over and over in her mind. she'd read the message half a dozen times already, trying to decode its intent. trying to figure out if it was genuine or another empty promise she'd have to shield her daughter from.

across the room, you were a picture of joy. your own little personality as you chatted away to yourself. you were drawing again, as always, your tiny hands gripping a purple crayon.

alessia smiling to herself faintly as she watched you press on the paper a little too hard as your tongue stuck out in concentration.

"mummy, look!" you chirped up as you sat up onto your knees holding up your creation, a stick figure with wild hair standing beside a lopsided house. "it's you and me!"

alessia chuckled softly, setting her coffee down to admire the drawing, "it's beautiful lovie, your getting to be quite the artist!”

you beamed as your face lit up, "i'm going to draw esme next" you announced grabbing the elephant teddy with such enthusiasm.

alessia leaned back on the seat she was sat at, her heart tightening. you were everything to her. she'd fought so hard to you a life filled with love and to shield you from the shadows of the past.

and now, he wanted to come back. and alessia was sure if she could trust him, especially not after how he reacted when she told him.

five years ago.

alessia was sat on the edge of the bathtub in her cramped dorm bathroom, the stick trembling in her hand. she had re-read the result at least ten times. her chest tightening with every glance at the small plus sign.

pregnant.

pressing a hand to her mouth, willing herself not to cry. but her thoughts raced: she was nearly four thousand miles away from home, her scholarship, her dreams of playing professionally.

everything she had spent years working for felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

the sound of her phone buzzing on the counter was what jolted her out of her spiralling thoughts. it was him, harrison. staring a the screen as her stomach twisted in knots.

she hadn't even told him she'd been late this month. he didn't know she'd been panicking all week, buying test after test after practice and waiting for her dorm to be empty before she even dared to use it.

taking a deep breath, she pressed the green button, answering him. "hey less," harrison said his voice easy and light, "what's up?"

her throat felt dry, but she forced the words out, "can you come over? i need to talk to you"

"sure, is everything okay?"

"just..come over- please harrison"

alessia had met harrison through a party in her first year at the unc campus, he a bit like her had a athlete scholarship but his was for football not soccer.

the two had been off and on for a few months before they became official at the end of her freshman year.

the two were a good couple, harrison looked out for alessia and she thought she loved him but maybe that was just because he was her first love — he definitely wasn't the one for her.

when harrison showed up fifteen minutes later, his hoodie pulled up against the chilly evening air, a plastic bag no doubt filled with snacks he'd grabbed from the local store.

alessia sat in the edge of her bed, her hands wriggling nervously in her lap. harrison leaned against the doorframe, his expression puzzled by the shear look on his girlfriends face.

"alright, what's going on? you look like you've seen a ghost" his american accent cutting through the room like a knife. alessia looking up at him as she tried to think of the best way to say it.

biting her lip as her heart pounded in her chest. she didn't know how to start so she just held up the pregnancy test, her hands trembling.

harrison froze, his easy and chilled demeanour evaporating, "is that...?"

she nodded, "i'm pregnant" she said it barely coming out above a whisper.

he scoffed, as he stared at her his face totally unreadable. before he laughed a short, disbelieving sound. "your joking right, like this is one of those weird youtube pranks?" he asked spinning his head around to look around for a camera.

"it's not a joke harrison."

his expression immediately changed, "you can't be serious less, we're still in college. we aren't ready for this-"

"do you not think i don't already realise that!" she snapped, her voice breaking, "do you think i haven't thought about how this is going to change everything?"

harrison let out a loud sigh as he paced the small room, "so.. what are you going to do?" he asked as alessia glanced at him with a blank expression, "you're not actually planning on keeping it, are you?"

alessia's stomach churned at his words, "it's not 'it" harrison. it's a baby, our baby."

he stopped, his face paling, "less you've got a scholarship, you've got a great future ahead of you, you can't throw it away for this?"

her voice wavered, but she stood her ground. "i haven't decided yet, but if i keep the baby, it's not 'throwing my future away'"

harrison shook his head, his tone a lot colder now, "you're not thinking straight. just figure it out.. alright and let me know what you decide."

and without another beat or word, harrison left. leaving alessia alone in the suffocating silence.

—

it had been two weeks since alessia had found out she was pregnant and the decision of what to do had been weighing on her both mentally and physically.

she'd hardly slept, her thoughts consumer by the enormity of what was ahead. but after breaking silence with her family and them offering her their undying support.

with many sleepless nights on the phone to her mum, she knew what she wanted. for both her and her baby.

she was going to keep the baby.

the clarity didn't make facing harrison any easier. she had spent the morning rehearsing in her head what to say, trying to figure out what his reaction would be.

arriving at his dorm, it not being too far of a walk from hers. hesitantly she lifted her hand hovering over the door before finally knocking.

harrison answered quickly, his expression guarded, "hey, you alright?" he asked pulling the blonde into a side hug as he kissed the top of her head.

"can..we talk?" alessia asked, stepping to the side to sit on the couch before he could respond. not wanting to give herself the chance to back out.

he closed the door behind her, crossing his arms as he leant against the wall, he knew exactly what the conversation was about to be had. "so have you figured it out?"

alessia frowned at the casual tone in his voice as if this wasn't a serious conversation but she forced herself to stay calm knowing an argument right now would not be the best thing, "yeah i have. i'm keeping the baby."

harrison's eyes widened briefly clearly not the answer he was hoping or expecting as his brow furrowed deeper. "less, come on. think for a moment. your only twenty, we're still in college. your finally getting noticed by the senior teams, and football is going well for me. you can't seriously think this is a good idea-"

her jaw tightened, "it's my decision, harrison. i've thought about it and this is what i want. i'm keeping my baby"

he scoffed, running a hand through his hair, "are you hearing yourself right now. how are you supposed to raise a kid at your age, it's insane less"

"i'll figure it out" alessia snapped her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. "i have my family. i don't need you to like it, harrison. but i just need you to know this is happening"

he stared at her for a long moment, his expression hardening as he let out a loud sigh, "look i'm not ready for this" he said his voice cold and clipped. "i can't be a dad, less. not yet anyway"

alessia felt something in her chest pang, the hurt cutting a littler deeper than she expected. but beneath the pain a fierce determination began to take roots she straightened her back meeting his gaze head on.

"ok" she said shrugging, her voice steady, "if you don't want to be involved, you won't be. but know this, my baby deserves better than someone who walks away when things get hard."

harrison opened his mouth as if to argue, but alessia shook her head stopping him. not wanting her hear anything else from the boy.

"i don't want anything from you, harrison. not your money, not your time, nothing. from now we're done. me and my baby won't have anything to do with you."

her words hung in the air like a challenge and for a moment alessia thought he may change his mind, say something and protest her stern words.

but he didn't, he just sighed shoving his hands into his pockets, "if that's what you want"

alessia's heart ached at his indifference, the memories built flooding into her mind but she refused to let him see her cry. without another word she turned and walked out of his dorm door.

walking along the dimly lit door corridor, the cool air hitting her face as she let out a shaky breath. a wave of reality hitting her like a brick as tears pricked at her eyes but she quickly wiped them away angrily.

"i promise we'll be better without him" she whispered to herself, placing a protective hand over her stomach.

in that moment, alessia made a silent promise to herself and her unborn baby: she would give them a life filled with love and supports. they mightn't have their father to turn to but they would never feel unloved.

and alessia would make sure of it.

that evening, alessia was sat in the familiar comfort of her parents' living room. her hands curled around a mug of tea. the walls were adorned with family photos — memories of holidays, birthdays and days out which were always loud and full of love.

it had always been her safe haven, but tonight, it felt anything but safe.

you had spent the evening in the kitchen with your nonna, helping to make dinner which had been a favourite of yours. making faces on everyone's pizzas with the toppings.

you were now in dream land having difted to sleep in your mummy's arms as you watched the tv.

alessia's parents, mario and carol as well as her older brothers gathered around her each wearing a different expression after hearing the news of who was back.

mario sat forward in his chair, elbows on him knees as his brow furrowed in deep though. carol was perched on the couch beside alessia as she gave a comforting hand on her knee in quiet support.

while her brothers, giorgio and luca across the room sat side by side with their arms crossed and a protective energy glowing from them almost tangible.

alessia's dad broke the silence first, his voice steady but soft. "so to get it straight, after four years, harrison out the blue wants to meet tiny?"

alessia nodded, her hands tightening around her mug. "that's what he says, somehow he got my number and messaged me yesterday"

"but he hasn't been around at all" luca's voice was sharp cutting through the air like a blade, "so why are we even having this conversation. his actions speak louder than his words"

alessia hummed, she knew exactly what her brother was saying, heck she felt the same way. but for some reason the decision felt like such a difficult one.

her mum, carol sighed, giving alessia's hand a reassuring squeeze, "darling, i know this is complicated but.. maybe he's realised he made a mistake. people do change you know"

mario nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful, "exactly what your mum says, it sounds like he's trying to take responsibility. and as much as you maybe wish it wasn't true but harrison is her father and she deserves the chance to know that"

alessia bit her lip, torn between her parents clam logic and her brothers silent fury. she couldn't deny that part of her wanted to believe harrison had changed that he could finally be the father figure you deserved but despite her parents words, alessia knew harrison better than them.

and she didn't know if she was exactly ready to gamble with your heart.

"you really think he deserves a chance, dad?" alessia asked still hesitant.

mario nodded slowly, "i do, i'm not saying forgive him overnight but you could always meet with him, if he's in london and talk to him. see if he's serious. if he's willing to show up for her now — that has to count for something."

a loud scoff could be then heard from luca, his arms tightening across his chest. "count for what? a pat on the back for finally doing what he should've been doing for the past four years-"

carol gave her eldest son a sharp look, "luca. don't make this harder than it already is for your sister."

but luca was unmoved in his opinion, "but mum, he walked away when less needed him most! and now he thinks he can just waltz back in like nothings happened!"

gio, who had been quieter of the two brothers, decided to add his opinion. his voice firm, "and what happens if he decides it's too hard for him and disappears again? think about what that'll do to lovie. she's too young to understand why her dad didn't stick around the first time."

alessia's throat tightened, like she was going to either be sick or pass out or maybe both. she'd had the same thoughts running through her mind all day.

"boys" mario said sharply cutting through the clear tension which was building. his tone carrying the weight of authority. "this isn't about us, it's about what's best for y/n and if harrison is serious don't you think she deserves to know him?"

luca scoffed, "only if he's serious," luca snapped sharply, "and that's a big if."

carol turned back to alessia, her expression softer now, "what do you think darling? do you believe he's changed?"

alessia let out a shaky breath, setting her mug down on the coffee table careful not to wake you as you slept peacefully in her arms. "i don't know mum, part of me wants to give him the benefit of the doubt but i can't risk lovie getting hurt. she's happy and she doesn't even know what's she missing."

"which is exactly why you should be careful," gio firmly said, her voice protective not only of his sister but also of his niece. "she doesn't know him. if you let him in and he screws up — she's the one whose going to get hurt and confused, not him."

the room fell into a tense silence, alessia's parents and brothers were split down the middle — her dad and mum urging caution but also the fact everyone deserves a second chance while her brothers were both adamant that harrison definitely wasn't even worthy of considering the opportunity.

finally mario broke the stalemate, "less, we can sit here and go back and forth but at the end of the day it's your decision. tiny is your daughter and whatever you choose, we'll support you.

alessia nodded slowly, her eyes stinging with she'd tears. she appreciated their support but it didn't make the decision any easier.

glancing down at your sleeping figure in her arms as you clutched the side of her hoodie in your hands, soft breaths coming from your lips. her heart aching as she thought about your bright, innocent and trusting smile.

whatever she decided, it had to be for your sake.

—

it was a few days since she'd been at her parents, going over her options and she was still no further forward on what to do so as she sat lying on her bed it was late and the house was quiet, you tucking up peacefully in bed and the world was quiet, but alessia's mind was anything but.

so as she lay on facetime to someone she hoped would be able to give her an honest and brutal opinion and not sugar coat it.

"so after four years he's just reached out, that's mad less" ella's thick accent came through the speaker as her brows furrowed as she adjusted the angle of her phone

alessia sighed running a hand through her freshly washed hair, "tell me about it. it's like where has he suddenly gotten the change of heart come from. i don't know if i can trust him, el"

ella's face softened, her usual playful smirk replaced with genuine concern, she'd seen the fallout after what happened. the state the blonde had been in when she came home from the states six months pregnant.

she was the only one who really knew the whole story. whether that was from late night chats or drunken confessions after one too many on a team night out.

"i mean i don't blame you, after all you've brought her up on your own. you've played both parents and he's just been.. well not here"

"exactly," alessia said her voice tight, "and now he want to meet her" alessia huffed expressing the same concerns about letting harrison back into your life like she did with her parents.

ella shifted, propping herself up on her elbows, "it normal that your feeling worried, but.. what if he's serious this time? people can change less. don't you think tiny deserves the chance to know her dad, even if it's just to see for herself what he's like?"

alessia frowned leaning back against the headboard of her bed. "but that's the thing, she's doesn't even know he exists. she's happy el and i've worked so hard to keep my promise to her and give her a good life"

"i know you have less," ella said softly, "but.. what if one day after school she asks about him. what are you going to tell her? that you wouldn't give him the chance"

alessia groaned quietly, covering her face with her hands. part of her wishing he had never even sent the message and then she wouldn't be in such a split state of mind. "i don't know! that's why i'm calling you. i don't know what to do."

ella was quiet for a moment, her expression deep in thought. "look i get your scared, heck i don't know sometimes how you manage everything you do. but i also know how much you love that little girl. you always put her first and this is no different."

ella paused as alessia nodded, hearing her best friend loud and clear, "maybe the answer isn't about trusting him— it's about trusting yourself. you'll know if it's the right thing to do."

alessia let out a small laugh, as she looked at the camera, "you make it sound so simple"

ella laughed lightly, "it's not simple, far from it. it's messy as hell. but your so strong, less. you've handled everything else life thrown at you and you'll handle this too. just.. don't rush it. start small and let him prove himself."

alessia let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing a little, "you really think i should give him a chance?"

ella's eyes softened as she let out a sigh, "i think you should do what feels right for tiny. but yeah maybe, give him a shot. if he messes up you'll know and you'll handle it. your her mum and there's no better at protecting her than you"

for the first time in a couple days a small smile tugged at alessia's lips, "thanks el, i don't know what i'd do without you."

ella grinned, her usual cheeky grin as her playful energy returned, "you'd probably just sit overthinking everything. good thing i'm always here to knock some sense into you"

alessia laughed, shaking her head, "your an idiot"

"and yet you still love me for it!" ella winked before stifling a yawn. "right go and get some sleep. you've got enough in your plate without being a total zombie tomorrow."

"and less," ella paused grabbing the blondes attention as she shuffled around her bed, "i'm proud of you" ella smiled softly as the two shared an understanding nod, knowing exactly what the other was saying without having to say a word.

"goodnight, el" alessia smiled her voice softer

"night, less. you've got this! oh, and give my favourite little russo a kiss from her auntie ella, i miss her” ella added with a pout as a small giggled came from alessia as she nodded telling her best friend she would do just that.

as the screen went dark, alessia leaned back against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling as ella's words replayed in her mind. for the first time since harrison's message, she felt the faintest flicker of clarity.

—

the cafe was small and tucked into a quiet corner of london, the last thing alessia wanted was for this to be in every media outlet going. so she chose a discreet location somewhere she wouldn't usually go.

the bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside, clutching her coat tightly around her. her eyes scanning the room until she saw him: harrison reed.

sat at a table by the window, his hands wrapped around what looked to be some sort of health smoothie filled with all the healthy greens.

his hair a little shorter than she remembered, not the messy moon of curls it was back in college as well as the light subtle on his jaw. a black shirt covering him as his arms where on show a lot more tattoos coving his arms than the blonde could recall from back in college.

he looked nervous — his knee bouncing under the table, his fingers tapping against the plastic cup. when he saw her, he stood quickly unsure what to do or how to greet the blonde so he stuck his hands into his pockets.

"alessia" he said his voice tentative.

alessia just gave him a curt nod as she forced herself to take a steadying breath. she walked towards him, her heart pouring in her chest.

as she reached the table, sliding into the seat across from him without a word, her posture rigid and far from relaxed.

harrison sat down slowly, his movements careful as if he was afraid of scaring her off. for a moment neither of them spoke. alessia kept her arms crossed tightly, her gaze fixed on him like a shield.

"do you want a dri-" harrison began but was quickly shut off by the blonde shaking her head, "-no, i'm not staying long. i have to pick lovie up at three"

the blonde glanced down at the time on her phone, thirty minutes. that it all she had to do was listen to him for thirty minutes. she could do that.

harrison just nodded, "well thanks for uh, meeting me" harrison finally said, stuttering over his words.

alessia's lips pressed into a thin line. "you said it was important."

he nodded, his eyes flickering to the smoothie in front of him before returning to her. "it is. i've.. i've been thinking about this for a while. reaching out, i mean. i know it's been too long. way too long"

her jaw tightened, "four years harrison. you haven't said anything in four years. you didn't even say anything after i went out my way to send you a message the day she was born"

he flinched slightly at the sharpness in her tone, guilt washing over his face. "i-i know i didn't and i hate myself for it alessia. i wasn't ready back then. i was..scared, stupid and i thought walking away was the right thing to do because i didn't think i could handle it."

alessia let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "the right thing? you left me to do it all alone, i was terrified too but i didn't get the luxury of running away"

alessia paused for a moment her voice a little shaky as she took a deep breath, "i had to figure it out alone — for her"

harrison's face fell as his hands tightened around the plastic cup, "i've let you down, both of you. and i know i'll never be able to make up for that. but i've changed alessia. i'm not the same selfish idiot i was back then"

she arched an eyebrow, skepticism radiating from her as she let out a scoff, "and now you try think you can just walk into her life and everything will be sunshine and rainbows? do you even understand what you're asking?"

harrison hesitated as his gaze dropped to the table, alessia continuing voicing her frustration, "and what happens when you go back to america"

harrison's head picked back up as he shook it, "i- i live here now. i have for the past year and a bit... football didn't work out for me not like the.. the way it did for you. i erm work for marketing firm now, the hours are long but it works" he shrugged and alessia nodded talking in the new information.

it didn't change a lot but it definitely changed something. harrison wasn't going to go away after a few months, especially now, not since he lived here too. alessia couldn't just forget him like she did before when he lived across the world.

"and i can't sit here and pretend to understand what it's been like for you. but i know i want to try. i want to be there for y/n even if it's just a small part. she deserves to know her dad"

the mention of your name coming from his lips made alessia's heart ache. your bright smile flashing in her mind, your endless curiosity and infectious laughter.

"she doesn't even know you exist" alessia said quietly, her voice cracking slightly, you had never really asked but alessia knew with each month that passed it was only a matter of time till you did. "she's happy and i've worked so hard to give her a life full of love and stability. i won't let you ruin that.

harrison's eyes filled with remorse, "i’m not here to ruin anything. i just want a chance. if i could erase the past i would in a heartbeat. but i know i can show up now. so please alessia, let me try and prove myself to you."

she studied for a long moment, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. there was a desperation in his eye but also something else — determination maybe even hope.

"this isn't about you." she said finally, her voice steady. "this is about it her and if you're not serious, if you mess this up. i'll never forgive you.

harrison nodded quickly, his expression earnest. "i understand and i swear i'm serious. i'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

alessia leaned back in her chair as her arms still crossed tightly. she wasn't ready to trust him, not yet, but she couldn't ignore the tiny voice in her head whispering 'what if he has changed?' 'what if this is his change to be the dad you deserve'

after a long pause, she sighed, "i need time to think about this and i'm not making any promises harrison."

"of course," he said quickly, a flash of shock going over his features at the blondes response, "take all the time you need, i'll wait."

she stood, reaching for her coat "this isn't just about meeting her. if i let you in, you have to stay. no backing out when things get hard. no disappearing acts and if you can't promise that then we might as well not even bother"

harrison rose to his feet, his posture uncertain but hopeful, "i promise alessia. i have a life here, i live here and have a steady job i promise i'm not going anywhere."

she didn't respond, simply pulling her coat tighter around herself as she nodded mumbling a quick "i'll be in touch" as she headed towards the door.

as she stepped outside and closer to her car in the cold air, she felt a swirl of emotions: anger, fear and deep down a faintest flicker of hope.

—

a few weeks had passed since alessia had met harrison in that cafe. after a few days of going back and forth with the idea and a few more conversations with her mum and ella.

she decided to give him the chance to know his daughter. giving harrison a call, him answering pretty much straight away his voice filled with hope as alessia asked when he would next be free along with another warning of the risk she was taking.

which lead to this warm sunday, and for once where alessia didn't have a match. the team having played on the friday night. as alessia and you walked through your local park which was only a short walk from your house.

the playground at the park was alive with laughter and the squeals of children running around in every direction.

alessia stopped for a moment as she leaned down to tie your shoelace again for you, standing back up as she gripped the straps of her bag tightly.

feeling her stomach churn as she glanced towards a bench in the distance, where harrison was sitting. his posture stiff as he sat with his hands clasped together.

beside her, you tugged at her hand excitedly. the eyes of your hair slightly curled bouncing up and down as you pointed towards the swings.

"mummy! can we go on the swings first?" you asked, your voice brimming with nothing but energy.

alessia forced a smile as she leant down to your level, "in a bit we can lovie, but first there's someone i would like you to meet"

your head tilted the side, curiosity filling your features as you wondered who it could be, "who?"

alessia swallowed hard, her throat dry, "he's... someone who would like to get to know you. his name is harrison"

before you could ask any more questions, alessia straightening up as her gaze met harrison's. he was already looking over, waving alessia over as she could sense his nervous energy practically radiating from him.

alessia taking your hand and starting to walk towards him, her heart pounding with every step.

as they approached, harrison offered a small and tentative smile. "hi y/n" he said softly, his voice careful and gentle not wanting to overwhelm you.

you looked at him, your big blue eyes wife with curiosity as you clutched your mummy's hand a little tighter. your usual boldness momentarily replaced with shyness. "hi," you said after a pause, you voice quiet and timid.

alessia crouched down before you, her hand staying tightly in yours, "lovie, this is harrison" she said her voice calm but steady. "and he's.. your dad"

your brow furrowed slightly, her head tilting as you processed your mummy's words, "my dad?" you repeated, your gaze flicking between your mummy and harrison.

"yes" alessia said softly, "he's been away for a little while, but he wants to get to know you"

harrison leaned forward, putting himself a little closer to you. he looked hesitant unsure if he should speak but when you didn't back away, he took a deep breath.

"it's nice to finally meet you, y/n." he said his voice warm and welcoming, "your mummy has told me so many wonderful things about you."

you stared at him for a moment, your little button nose scrunching up as you studied his face. finally you asked, "but why weren't you here before?"

the question hit like a punch to the gut and alessia felt her breath get caught in her throat as she looked at harrison waiting to see how he would respond.

harrison's face softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. "that's a good question" he said gently. "the truth is, i made a mistake. a pretty big one and i wasn't there when i should've been and i'm really really sorry for that"

you blinked, your expression still curious but no longer as guarded as you were, "so.. but your not going away now?"

harrison's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, "no kiddo, i’m not going anywhere. and if you'll let me i would really like to spend time with you and get to know you"

alessia felt her chest tighten at the raw emotion in his voice. she looked down at you whose gaze was fixed on harrison and after a long moment you nodded slowly.

"okay" you said simply.

harrison's face lighting up with relief, his smile genuine and warm, "okay" he echoed softly.

you turned back to look at your mummy, your usual energy returning. "can i show him the swings, mummy? i'm really good at swinging high!"

alessia hesitated for a moment, her protective instincts warring slightly with the tentative hope stirring in her chest. finally she nodded, "of course lovie. go on"

you grabbed harrison's hand without hesitation, pulling him towards the swings with the same confidence you had with everyone you trusted.

alessia watching as harrison followed you, his movements careful but not awkward. he listened to you chattering about your favourite colours and how you someday when you get older would like a puppy like your auntie beth and steph.

by the time you reached the swings, you had clearly decided that harrison was worth your attention. you climbed onto the swing and your legs were kicking in anticipation.

"push me! but not too high!" you instructed your voice filled with authority.

harrison chuckled, a sound alessia hadn't heard in years. it bringing back memories of the two of them when they were sit and laugh in their dorms about things that probably weren't even funny.

"you got it kiddo!"

as harrison gently pushed on the swing, your laughter filled the air, bright and unrestrained. alessia stood by the bench watching them with a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her.

for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—this could work.

—

the sun had dipped lower in the sky as they walked home, the soft golden light casting long shadows on the pavement of the three.

you skipping happily ahead, holding your mummy's hand with one of her own while the other clutched the small daisy harrison had plucked for her from the park.

you hadn't stopped talking since they left, your excitement bubbling over as you recounted every little thing about your day.

harrison walked in the other side of alessia, his hands shoved deep into her coat pockets, clearly not well adjusted to the cool breeze that london brings once the sun had lowered.

his steps were measured as his gaze drifted towards you every so often as if he couldn't quite believe you were real and part his blood.

when they reached the driveway of your home, you running straight to the door as your mummy came up behind unlocking it for you to rush inside the warmth, kicking your shoes off before turning to the door seeing your mummy and har- your daddy still stood at the door way.

"are you coming inside daddy?" you asked so innocently with a big toothy grin.

the words so simple as daddy, landed like a punch and a hug all at once. alessia's heart clenching and she saw the way harrison froze, his eyes widening for just a moment before he crouched down to your level.

"not today, y/n" he said gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. remembering about what alessia had said about boundaries and wanting to respect them. "but i'll see you soon, and maybe we can go to a soft play"

you pouted slight but your expression softened when harrison added, "i promise i’ll be back, pinky swear?" he held out his pink and you giggled as you wrapped yours around his, "pinky swear!"

satisfied with the answer you were given, you turned and tugged at your mummy's arm, "can i have a snack now, mummy?"

alessia smiled, brushing a faint curl from your face, "go on inside and wash your hands first lovie, i'll be through in a moment"

you nodded, bouncing your way inside and making a beeline for the kitchen as you held your daisy tight in your hand.

as you bounced down the hallway, the world seemed to grow quieter. alessia turning back to harrison after making sure you went were you should be, crossing her arms instinctively over her chest.

for a long moment, they stood there, the late afternoon casting a soft flow over their faces.

harrison shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, his hands still buried inside his coat pockets, "she's.. amazing" he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

alessia's lips twitched into a small smile despite herself. "she is, i've worked hard to make sure she has a good life"

"and you've done an incredible job" harrison said honestly, his eyes meeting alessia's. "she's so clever, so confident. that's all you"

alessia felt her guard waver, but she quickly steadied herself, "not just me. my family and my friends. she's surrounded by people who shower her with love" her gaze hardened slightly, "people who've been there since day one."

harrison flinched but nodded, he knew it was coming. his jaw tightened, "yeah, i deserve that one," he admitted quietly.

"i know i let you down less- alessia. both of you. and i don't expect forgiveness overnight but i would like to there for her now, and you if you ever need me. however you'll let me" harrison smiled softly, alessia taking in his words, letter by letter.

alessia studied him, her expression unreadable, "your really asking me to fully trust you, after four years of nothing."

"yeah" harrison said quietly, his voice was steady despite the weight of alessia's words. "but not just for me, but for her. i'll do whatever it takes to prove that i'm serious this time."

her lips pressed together into a thin line as she considered him, the sincerity in his eyes was hard to ignore but the scars of the past were fresh and the last few days had opened more than alessia care to admit.

"we'll see" she said finally, her voice cool but not dismissive, "you've got a long way to go harrison. don't make me regret this."

he nodded, a small but grateful smile tugging at his lips, "i won't, i promise"

for a minute, the weight of their shared history hung between them — everything left unsaid, every moment lost. then alessia took a small step back her hand resting lightly on the door handle.

"goodnight, harrison."

"goodnight, alessia. message me once you've had time to think!"

she slipped inside and close the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she let out a shaky breath.

your laughter echoing from the kitchen, no doubt in alessia's mind that you were making soap bubbles while you washing your hands and alessia felt the faintest glimmer of hope pierce through the wall of doubt surrounding her heart.

[mysumeow]

ᯓ★ KINKTOBER DAY 4: SUCCUBUS

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Afab body reader, referred to with feminine terms such as girl. Arle has a dick (You may decide to read it as a strap on or not). Succubus Arlecchino. Established relationship.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: Succubus Arlecchino peeks into your deepest desires to embody them.

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: Sesbian lex???!!!!! More likely than you think.

🎃 . . . KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Your loving girlfriend Arlecchino.

She, who reciprocates your eager hugs when she’s back from work.

She, who gently brushes your hair when you ask her for it.

She, who pushes your legs as far as they can go as she fucks you within an inch of your life—

“Wait—Wait, please!” You gasped as you felt her push until she bottomed out, the head of her cock stretching out your vulnerable insides. It was thicker and harder than anything you’ve taken before; you feared it could split you open from the sheer size of it.

“Keep those cute sounds coming, darling. You sound beautiful,” her lips swallowed your desperate whines, her tongue possessively playing with yours. She clasped her hold on your hips to keep you in place. As small as the tremors from your body were, the feel of her cock was overwhelming.

This was unusual of Arlecchino; used to her doting on you and the sweetness with which she would handle your body, this sudden outburst of famine for sex was a surprise. One that was exciting, albeit the abruptness.

“It’s okay,” she kissed away the tiny tears that prickled your eyes; nimble fingers caressed your cheek. “You’ll feel really good soon. Just let yourself go, trust your body and your pleasure to me.”

“Arle…” you muttered, and the sound of your quivering voice excited her. She held your face in place, greedy to surmise every single detail.

Arlecchino pulled away and then jerked forward, stuffing you full of her dick again. It bumped against the deepest parts of your body, leaving you short of breath. You threw your head back against the pillow when the tempo became faster, as if she was punching the air out of your lungs from how deep she was.

“Keep squeezing me like that, good girl." Arlecchino sucked marks into your skin—evidence of who you belonged to. “You want it, hm? You want me to fill you up with it again and again?”

“Yes, I want it! Give it to me, Arle,” you couldn’t help but utter in frantic moans. “Make me yours.”

You were the moment you let your guard down and allowed her to breach into your dreams.

Pleased by your begging, her hands went to your clit to rub it. She knew it was akin to an overkill, since this was within the realm of her powers, the extra stimulation was given to make your orgasm especially strong.

Your pussy tightened around her, your orgasm drenching her length of your juices.

Faintly, you registered her pulling away from you. The bed shifted from the movements, but you didn’t have the mind to worry about it, basking from the leftover waves of pleasure.

“Open up, sweetheart…”

You felt something prod at your lips, which prompted you to open your eyes.

Arlecchino had straddled you until her cock was within reach of your mouth, fingers grazing across your hair in a sweet gesture with hidden intentions.

“I wasn’t done with you yet,” her salacious grin made your heart race.

You woke up with a jolt, and you would’ve sat up if not for the arm weighing you down.

The sun shone through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day.

“Mm…” Arlecchino stirred awake. She noticed your disheveled appearance and expressed a questioning look.

Despite being awake from such a vivid and hefty wet dream, you couldn’t find peace from seeing your partner’s breathtaking face up close and personal. And with more reason, considering the focus point of said dream was her.

“I dreamt that...” you hesitated. “Nevermind.”

“I do wish you shared it with me, darling,” her fingers ghosted over your hipbone. “As detailed as possible.”

[gensideas]

LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT

summary Y/N Sánchez, daughter of Roselyn Sánchez, appeared on Jimmy Kimmel with her fiancé, Drew Starkey. While Y/N spoke confidently about her career, Drew couldn’t hide his admiration, often losing focus as he gazed at her. His lovestruck demeanor contrasted with Y/N’s composure, creating a sweet and memorable moment that left fans swooning over their undeniable chemistry.

features Fiancé!Drew Starkey x Fiancé!actress!reader

The bright lights of the studio shone down on me as I adjusted the hem of my flowing emerald-green dress. It hugged my figure perfectly, a piece from a designer who had insisted I wear it to highlight my poise and grace. But I wasn’t thinking about the dress or the cameras pointed at me. I was thinking about Drew Starkey, my fiancé, sitting just a few feet away. His piercing blue eyes followed my every movement, a soft smile playing at his lips.

Being the daughter of the legendary actress Roselyn Sánchez, I was a rising star in my own right. My breakout role in a critically acclaimed drama had catapulted me to the spotlight, and now I was the name on every producer’s lips. Despite my rapid ascent, I remained grounded, thanks in no small part to Drew, whose quiet confidence and unwavering support made him my anchor.

“We’re ready for you,” a producer’s voice called.

I gave Drew a quick glance. He gave me a reassuring nod, though his gaze lingered a bit too long. My beauty had always captivated him, but tonight, under the soft glow of studio lights, I felt otherworldly.

The interview set was elegant, with plush chairs and a backdrop of shimmering gold curtains. I took my seat beside Drew, the host across from us. The audience clapped enthusiastically, the excitement palpable.

“Good evening, everyone!” Jimmy began, flashing a practiced smile. “Tonight, we have two incredible guests: the stunning Y/N Sánchez and her fiancé, the talented Drew Starkey. Let’s give them a warm welcome!”

The applause swelled, and my cheeks flushed. I glanced at Drew, who was already looking at me, his expression soft and unguarded. He seemed utterly unaware of the cameras or the audience—his world had narrowed to just me.

“Y/N, your performance in Eclipsed Dreams has been called transformative. How does it feel to step out of your mother’s shadow and establish your own legacy?” Jimmy asked.

My smile widened. “It’s surreal. Growing up, I always admired my mother’s work, but she encouraged me to find my own path. It’s been a challenging journey, but I’m grateful for the opportunities and for the people who believe in me.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And Drew, you’ve been quite the supportive partner. What’s it like watching Y/N rise to stardom?”

Drew chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly, it’s mesmerizing. She’s incredibly talented, hardworking, and… well, look at her.” He gestured toward me, his voice tinged with awe. “She’s breathtaking.”

The audience swooned, and my face turned a deeper shade of pink. “You’re too much,” I murmured, though the sparkle in my eyes revealed my delight.

“Drew, you’ve built an impressive career yourself,” Jimmy continued. “What’s the key to balancing your own busy schedule with supporting Y/N?”

“Communication and respect,” Drew said. “We both have demanding careers, but we make time for each other. It helps that we genuinely enjoy spending time together—she’s my favorite person.”

“That’s so sweet,” Jimmy said, turning back to me. “Y/N, do you find inspiration in Drew’s work?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Drew is so dedicated to his craft. Watching him immerse himself in his roles motivates me to give my all in my own performances. We’re constantly learning from each other.”

“It sounds like you have a wonderful partnership,” Jimmy said. “One last question: What’s next for both of you?”

I exchanged a glance with Drew before answering. “I’m working on a new project that’s still under wraps, but I’m really excited about it. It’s something completely different from anything I’ve done before.”

“And I’ve got a couple of films lined up,” Drew added. “But we’re also making sure to carve out some time for ourselves. Life is about balance, after all.”

The audience applauded as Jimmy wrapped up the interview. “Y/N and Drew, thank you so much for joining us tonight. We can’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.”

When the cameras stopped rolling, we lingered on the set, chatting with the host and producers. Drew’s hand never left mine, a quiet but constant reassurance.

“You were incredible,” Drew whispered as we walked toward our car. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“You’re biased,” I teased.

“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling me close. “But it’s the truth.”

We paused under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, the city’s hum around us. Drew cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’re a star, and not just on screen.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I leaned into his touch. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

Our lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment that felt timeless.

The interview aired the following evening, and social media exploded with praise. Fans gushed over my grace and Drew’s evident adoration. A clip of Drew’s comment about my beauty went viral, earning us the nickname “Hollywood’s Sweethearts.”

As we sat together in our cozy living room, scrolling through the flood of messages, Drew wrapped an arm around me. “Looks like people are just as mesmerized by you as I am.”

“By us,” I corrected, resting my head on his shoulder. “We’re a team, Drew.”

He kissed the top of my head. “The best team.”

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and love, I knew that no matter how bright my star shone, it would always shine brightest with Drew by my side.

© gensideas 2024

[simplyreveries]

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'"

riddle rosehearts

riddle feels such a strange feeling in his chest, he hates it. he feels nervous as you make his chest squeeze and filled with pressure every time, you're near— it washes away as soon as you turn and talk to him. he feels frustrated because he finds himself unable to focus, unable to think clearly when all he sees you. you make him feel such a sense of comfort, he feels like he can fully let his guard down and tell you everything about him if you asked and it scares him. he has looked into how he is feeling, tried asking trey bashfully or read books, things online how he could possibly cope with this sickness.

more often than not he’s drawn to observing and noticing everything about you, your little quirks, expressions, comments, when your right in front of him now, laughing and talking freely amongst your friends around him happily helping out and cleaning up a little. he doesn't seem to be near nor saying a word but only mesmerized as he watches from a distance, he feels so much in a daze of this realization that he doesn't snap out when you walk over to him, he looks at you with a distressed look.

"... have you ever been in love?"

leona kingscholar

despite leona’s intelligence and knowing just exactly what he is feeling about you, he is stubborn at heart. he absolutely hates what you're doing to him, he can't even sleep and take a nap in peace without you invading his thoughts. it looks like he’s angry at you or frustrated, really but it's just him unable to handle the emotions you make him experience. he is infuriated with how he succumbs to the jealously that you make him feel when you're with others, that he feels need to want that attention back on him. still, you talk and find him, usually talking his ear off about something random and some event that occurred to you today.

he has his eyes closed but still listens to you. sometimes you’ll join a game of chess with him, to which he usually takes the pride in winning. he never really questioned as to why you're so persistent on befriending or even just being around him, perhaps you warmed up to him when he cracked and gave into letting you and grim stay at his dorm when yours was practically taken over. his demeanor around you is small, but noticeable. sometimes you'd tease and laugh, you tell him "you must love me" his eyes are kept on you with his eyebrows raised, but he wouldn't say anything to deny.

"do you really wanna make me say it?"

azul ashengrotto

azul finds his demeanor collapsing around you, when he tries to play his cool-headed, business oriented, cleverly scheming person with a smug grin that turns into a stupid smile because he finds himself too nervous around you and so happy being close to you. any attempt he makes to be "suave" around you, it only shows what a hopeless man he is. he feels like he has to look like he absolutely is perfect in front of you, how else would you fall for him? nevertheless, you always seem to be able to see right through him and he hates that. he doesn't want to feel vulnerable, its icky to him.

he watches you after hours in the mostro lounge as you hum and finish closing and cleaning up with him and some others, however now it only seems to be you and azul. he knows he shouldn’t be staring but he tells himself just a few moments more, he always found you under the lighting to be mesmerizing. he hears you telling him about something silly that happened while you were serving, he hears you but can't focus as his mind is running with a million thoughts, if you ask him what it is, he clears his throat and carefully adjusts his glasses, replying slowly.

“i just... love you”

kalim al-asim

his feelings hit so hard, as soon as he got them, he loved it and wanted more of the adrenaline and high of being completely enamored with someone. he loved all the little things that happens throughout the day that makes him so giddy and happy he thinks about it as he tries to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come to see you. kalim feels like he is literally your other half, always wanting to be right beside you.

he finds himself daydreaming quite often, of what it'd be like to be yours, even the thought of you giving him a kiss on the cheek has him flushed. of course, you’d find himself at his celebrations and parades he holds at his dorm. he'd always try to get you to dance, grabbing your hands and jumping up and down with you laughing at least. kalim feels like he can say anything to you and thats exactly what he does. he grabs your hands and bring it up to his face near his lips.

"i love you!"

vil schoenheit

he had his apprehensions; you were more so just someone he knew and eventually because dormmates during his stay with the others at ramshackle. vil had always seemed so drawn to you, if you notice him staring and give a nervous, confused look he'll smoothly adjust something on you. it looks like he can see right through you at times, it didn't take long for him to believe what a genuinely good soul you are in this school. when you and the others were dealing with the events that unfolded when dealing with idia and STYX, when vil had hugged you and pressed a kiss to your forehead he realized just how fully he was deep in this. he pulled away and stared at you for a moment with his hands gripped on your arms that took a longer to fully pull away.

you've sparked such an interest in him, he practically found himself becoming infatuated over time. you'll find yourself within his dorm as he carefully applies makeup to your face-- he adores doing but he can't help but feel amused with a smile creeping to his face when he feels how strangely intimate it feels between you too with him so close. he looks at you with the dreamiest daze, he'll pinch your cheek lightly before moving to grab something else.

"i cant believe i've fallen for you"

idia shroud

he stares and fidgets on his phone nervously, biting his already scarred lip-- he is staring at your contact. he wants to get it off his chest, he wants to get it out of the way if you're reciprocating and feel the same way to someone like him. ortho practically bugs him all the time to, confident and laughs even when he brings up the idea- ortho knows you and thinks idia will be successful and pleasantly surprised with your answer. idia hates that he can't help the way he feels around you, he feels a sense of relief and comfort when you're near- like he doesn't need to be absolutely on edge.

yet as soon as he felt that sensation around you, he eventually turned into his fear because of his infatuation he has around you only grew. he feels his mouth goes dry and struggles to finds something to say when he's looking right at you. you'll still see his moments where he's rambling about something he built or a media he is enjoying but he grows back more into his shell of anxiety when he realizes how much he feels. he considers you perfect and honestly, far out of his league. there was no one someone like you would possibly fall for someone like him. still, idia has found himself to be a pathetic mess when it comes to you and quickly presses send.

"I think i love you"

malleus draconia

surprisingly, out of all of them - i feel like its him that falls for you the quickest. he found himself to be so smitten with you as soon as he accidentally stumbled upon you when it was unbeknownst to him that you were living in the ramshackle dorm now. he admires you, you've shown anything but fear around him and made him feel seen. he truly believes its fate that you somehow found yourself all the way to twisted wonderland and you two had met each other, he tends to find his mind drifting and thinking about that a lot. despite you possessing no magic, he still sometimes will tell you even before confessing that you must hold something. malleus won't give you an exact answer as to why he thinks that yet– being playful and mysterious as he quietly laughs to himself. you stumbled into this unknown world and made him this infatuated. he can't take his eyes off of you during the nights you find yourself talking to him, he watches you look at the nature, as he often shares you the beauty of it in the late hours.

"you've bewitched me, havent you?"

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: your 2026 self's advice for 2025

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: creature feature: ghost - longing and lingering

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile one

allow yourself to be curious and have new beginnings. your 2026 self urges you to explore the opportunities that ignite your passion and creativity in 2025. trust the process and remain open to learning. small steps will set you up for big transformations.

focus on finding emotional fulfillment and building meaningful relationships. your 2026 self encourages you to cherish and nurture your connections in 2025 - this will be a year where love, family, and/or community brings you immense joy. don’t take any moments for granted...

celebrate your milestones, no matter how small. your future self reminds you that 2025 will bring accomplishments and reasons to feel proud. take time to acknowledge your hard work and enjoy life’s moments of stability and harmony. whether it’s a literal homecoming or a metaphorical one, find peace in your achievements.

let go of past disappointments. your future self acknowledges that 2025 will come with emotional challenges, but advises you to not dwell on losses/mistakes. look for the silver lining in difficult situations and shift your focus to what you can still build and/or salvage. healing is key to moving forward.

balance celebration with responsibility. your 2026 self may be warning against overindulgence or leaning too heavily on social distractions. evaluate your friendships and avoid gossip / superficial connections. focus on meaningful interactions and prioritize your personal growth.

pile two

prioritize balance and adaptability. your 2026 self reminds you that 2025 will be a year of juggling multiple responsibilities, whether in work, personal life, and/or both. time management and knowing when to set boundaries is crucial. stay flexible and focus on what truly matters - don’t stretch yourself too thin.

reconnect with your inner wisdom. your future self cautions that in 2025, you may feel disconnected from your intuition / inner truth. perhaps you’ll rely too much on external validation or suppress your instincts. make time for introspection and trust the quiet, subtle messages within you. avoid ignoring red flags, both in yourself and others.

break free from limiting beliefs. your 2026 self acknowledges that you may feel stuck or trapped in 2025, but reminds you that much of this is mental. the power to free yourself lies within - often you are the thing that stops you from feeling free. whether fear, self-doubt, and/or external pressures - and start taking steps to regain control. small acts of courage can dissolve large barriers.

seek structure and wisdom. your future self advises you to lean into tradition, mentorship, and/or a belief system in 2025 to ground yourself. perhaps this means returning to foundational practices, getting guidance from a teacher, and/or establishing a more disciplined approach to life. ensure you’re not blindly following authority either; question what aligns with your values.

embrace endings as a path to renewal. your 2026 self reminds you that while some parts of 2025 may feel difficult or final, these endings are paving the way for new beginnings. release what no longer serves you, even if it’s painful. trust that you’re shedding what’s necessary to step into a stronger, wiser version of yourself.

pile three

take control and stay determined. your 2026 self encourages you to approach 2025 with focus and willpower. even when obstacles arise, remind yourself of your goals and push forward. balance your emotions and logic to maintain control over your direction. success will come when you stay disciplined and driven.

reevaluate what truly makes you happy. your future self warns that in 2025, you may find yourself chasing goals that don’t align with your authentic desires. reflect on what “wish fulfillment” means to you and avoid settling for superficial happiness. true satisfaction comes from within, not from external validation.

proceed with caution and assess risks. your 2026 self advises you to be mindful of impulsive decisions in 2025. while new beginnings are on the horizon, take the time to plan and evaluate. avoid leaping into situations without considering potential consequences. trust in fresh starts but approach them with care.

let go of resistance to change. your future self sees that 2025 may challenge your ability to release old patterns or beliefs. if you find yourself feeling stuck, it’s likely because you’re resisting a necessary shift in perspective. surrender to the process, even if it feels uncomfortable. true growth comes from seeing things in a new light.

seize new opportunities for stability and growth. your 2026 self celebrates the tangible opportunities coming your way in 2025. whether it’s a career, financial, and/or personal project, there is a fresh start with the potential for long-term success. stay grounded, work hard, and nurture this new beginning - it has the power to flourish.

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

jjk men x streamer!reader hybrid smau

╰┈➤ Collab?

chapter one

ೃ⁀➷ you start your stream with gojo, your childhood best friend who happens to be internet famous. you’re surprised to see how people react to your presence on his live.

masterlist. prev. next

you were nervous to answer the call that rung from your pc, shaking for godsake. it was not that serious, you tried telling yourself over and over in your head.

but the thing is, it IS that serious! how did gojo already have five hundred thousand viewers, the stream just started???

you joined the video call after a moments hesitation, waving shyly at the screen. no way were you having internet anxiety, was that even a thing? online-anxiety.. the dsm-5 definitely doesn’t categorize that as a disorder.

“hi,” you spoke in a much smaller voice than usual, one you use towards your professors or customers at work. gojo mustn’t have caught on to your shy and anxious behavior, considering he immediately started screaming about how excited he was to introduce you to stream and how excited he is to play with you.

his personality was overwhelming. it’s what drew you to him all the way back to when you were seven. it could be a lot at times- but it’s what made him so enjoyable to be around. if it were anybody else, it would give you a migraine.

“chat, stop acting weird.” you heard gojo say in a disgusted voice as you booted up your own stream and game, greeting all your fans and letting them know you’re streaming with gojo. they were all so excited for you! it warmed your heart, easing your anxiety. you’d just focus on your audience, not gojos almost one million- oh my god, one million?

you were going to question gojo on what was happening in his chat, worried they were making fun of you, but when you noticed he had one million viewers you almost passed out. this was terrifying.

you discreetly opened his stream chat, making small talk with gojo and your audience while you took a look at what people could possible be saying.

you were fucking shaking. this was NOT that serious- but you had such bad self consciousness, you just had to see what they were saying… were they calling you ugly? weird? oh no- where his diehard fangirls mad that he was streaming with a girl-

to your surprise, all you saw were nice comments. they were all complimenting you, asking gojo why he didn’t introduce you sooner. you were shocked, a small smile tugging at your lips as you continued to read.

GOJOMARRYME: EEE SHES SO CUTE! how does she only have 50k?!? GUYS MAKE HER FAMOUS!

gojosleftnutsock: is she dating gojo? love her already, im going to live vicariously through her

gojoandgetostan68: yn can i be your lap dog

sugurugetotv ✅: why have you never introduced us, gojo?

you had to stop yourself from reading before your face went bright red. no wonder gojo called them out, some of these messages were so weird. but the majority were sweet! you were glad you had a good first impression on everyone.

however, one message in particular caught your eye. he’s verified, you recognize his name from gojo. he’s talked about geto a few times, talked about how he’s going to play games with him but it’s not the same as playing with you. gojo just said that to guilt you, though.

“yn, who are you gonna play?” gojo asked, reeling you out of your thoughts as you realized you’ve already loaded into a match.

“i’ll play cloak and dagger,” you insisted, preferring to play support over any of the other roles. “how about you?” you asked, though you received no response.

“gojoooo?” you called out, eyebrows furrowing together as he went silent, still haven’t chosen a character. you wondered if the call bugged out, but when you looked at your video chat, he was still very much there. he looked upset about something, a look of… jealousy(?) on his face. you weren’t quite sure why he looked mad.

“you okay?” you asked, which seemed to snap him out of his trance. his face immediately twisted into a wide smile, “yea! my friends just being weird..” he muttered, though you could tell his tone was far from friendly. did geto make him mad? you weren’t sure, it wasn’t your place to ask so you just stayed silent.

gojo finally put his phone down, sighing as he looked at the character lineup. you were playing cloak and dagger, your teammates consisted of a solo player who chose doctor strange, while the other three were in a party and all played dps.

gojo was clearly upset this party of three stole his dps role, cursing about how a good team should have two of each role and then immediately also picking dps. well, you were totally losing this game.

toji never cared for his view count. he only streamed to play games with his friends, and get some money along with it. he was naturally successful and never cared how many viewers he had or lost.

until today.

he lost 16k viewers in the span of fifteen minutes. he thought he got cancelled for a good minute there, until his friends brought him into the loop of things.

sukuna of all people even tuned into gojos stream, what the hell? just for some random? it made no sense. sukuna and choso assured him the hype was for a reason, but until he saw you, he wouldn’t believe it.

toji scoffed, rolling his eyes when his friends finally joined his call and began naming off excuses as to why they were late to chat.

“right, just get on the game bro.” he spoke in his usual cold tone. those who don’t know him would think he was being harsh to his friends, but this was just how he spoke.

toji invited them to his party, the three of them queuing up for a match. toji was happy to see someone instalock support- cloak and dagger at that- usually nobody wanted to play healer. he was making small talk with choso when sukuna suddenly spoke up,

“chat told me we got matched with gojo and his friend.”

first chapter is up!! i’m so sorry, i know i said this would be an smau but clearly there’s more writing than pictures.. i want to do an equal amount of both but i have to add context for some things ):

tag list

@estella-novella @ourfinalisation @definetlythinkimanalien @fuckisthatahotghost @m-0ona @sillybillylamb @ayla-1605

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (13)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 4.8k+

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: the calm before the storm.

A/N: hello hello hellooooooooo, how are you guys? I just came up with a new series idea, but i think i'm gonna wait until i finish my ongoing series before i start working on it. let me know your thoughts on this part !!

part 13: skidding in choked roots

As Jungkook locks the door to his shop, Yoongi's words from earlier linger in his mind, echoing like the low rumble of an engine idling in the silence. "You love her, don't you?" The question had struck a chord and now, walking alone in the cool evening air, the very obvious answer feels almost impossible to deny.

With steady steps, Jungkook moves away from his shop and heads towards yours. The faint glow spilling out of your windows catches his eye, and his lips curl into a soft smile at the sight of you.

You're standing by your workbench, head slightly tilted as you focus on carefully arranging a bouquet. Your fingers move with practiced precision, the small furrow in your brow betraying your concentration.

Without hesitation, Jungkook pushes the door open, the soft chime of the bell going unnoticed as you're too engrossed in your work. He takes slow steps towards you, his boots faintly scuffing against the floor. As he gets closer, a playful warmth bubbles up inside him, and with gentle movements, he wraps his arms around your waist from the back.

The sudden warmth of his embrace makes you jump slightly, your body tensing at the unexpected contact. "God! You scared me!" you exclaim, your voice startled but light, and you whip your head around.

The tension melts away instantly when you realize it’s him. His familiar scent, the weight of his arms around you, and the soft sigh he lets out as his chin rests on your shoulder bring a quick smile to your lips. “Jungkook...” you murmur, shaking your head fondly as your fingers return to wrapping the bouquet.

“Sorry.” he whispers, though his tone carries no real remorse. His eyes close as he leans further into you, the stress of the day dissolving as your warmth grounds him. “I just…missed you.”

You chuckle softly, the sound light and comforting as you keep working. “Long day?” you ask, though your voice carries the knowing affection of someone who already has the answer.

“Better now.” he replies, his words muffled against your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you say anything more. The quiet intimacy of the moment wraps around you both like a warm blanket, the sound of your soft breaths filling the room.

Jungkook opens his eyes briefly, watching your hands carefully tie the ribbon on the bouquet. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, biker boy.” you tease, though your words carry none of the edge you intend. The soft curve of your lips betrays you, and the warmth in your eyes gives away just how much his words have affected you.

Jungkook chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling through his chest as it presses against your back. “Doesn’t matter.” he murmurs, his voice smooth. “I’m already where I want to be.” His words linger in the air between you with a quiet intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

You bite the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to suppress the blush threatening to creep up your face. But the way his breath tickles your ear and his arms feel so secure around your waist makes it impossible. You purse your lips, pretending to focus on the bouquet you’re wrapping, though the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth refuses to be subdued.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by the rustling of paper as you meticulously finish arranging the flowers. Jungkook doesn’t move... he stays close, his presence like a steady warmth at your back.

Finally, you set the bouquet down with a satisfied exhale. “Done.” you announce softly, straightening your posture. Jungkook’s arms slip away from your waist as he steps back to give you space. “Looks perfect.” he comments, his voice sincere.

You glance at him over your shoulder, his gaze warm and fixed on you, and you find yourself smiling again. “I should clean up and call it a day.” you say, turning back to your workbench.

“I’ll wait.” he replies simply, leaning against the counter. As you move around to clean the area up, his eyes stay on you, not in a way that feels overbearing but in a way that makes your heart feel seen, like he could watch you do the most mundane things and still find them fascinating.

Once everything is in its place and the shop looks neat again, you grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Jungkook moves towards you then, his hand extending without a word. His palm is open, waiting, an invitation that somehow feels both bold and natural.

With a small huff, you place your hand in his, and the warmth of his touch sends a ripple of comfort through you. His fingers curl around yours securely, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand.

The two of you step outside, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. The street is quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic blending into the stillness. You lock the shop door behind you, ensuring everything is secure, before turning to Jungkook.

“I’m hungry.” you mumble softly, your free hand brushing over your stomach. There’s a faint pout on your lips, and Jungkook can’t help but find it endearing. “If you wanted to go on a dinner date with me, you could’ve just said so, baby.” he quips, his grin playful but his tone brimming with affection.

You roll your eyes at his teasing, though the corners of your lips lift despite yourself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” you shoot back, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Alright, alright...” he laughs, shaking his head in mock surrender. “Let’s get you some food.”

With that, he leads you towards his bike, wears his helmet and he swings a leg over the seat effortlessly. You mirror his actions, climbing on behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. The engine roars to life, the vibration steady beneath you, and you press your cheek lightly against his shoulder as he pulls out onto the road.

//

As you and Jungkook wait for your food to arrive in the bustling restaurant, the warm buzz of conversation around you fades into the background.

You sit side by side, his arm draped around your waist in a way that feels possessive yet comforting. His thumb absentmindedly strokes your side as he listens intently to you talk about the flower orders you need to prepare for an upcoming wedding in the next few days.

He’s quiet, but not in a distracted way. His focus is solely on you, his gaze fixed on your face. The way your lips move, the way your eyebrows knit together every time you explain a particular detail... it’s all so endearing that he can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, really, how much he adores you.

For a moment, he gets lost in the sound of your voice, his thoughts clouding with affection. And before he even realizes it, his body acts on instinct. He leans in, pressing a firm, warm kiss to your cheek, cutting off your words mid-sentence.

You freeze, your breath catching at the unexpected gesture as you turn to look at him with wide eyes. There’s a hint of shock on your face, but it doesn’t last long. A smile creeps onto your lips, soft and teasing. “Jungkook…” you breathe out, tilting your head slightly in amused disbelief. “What?” he says, feigning innocence, his doe eyes wide and unassuming. “I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” he questions.

You narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head in playful reprimand. “That was so sudden!” you protest, though your tone lacks any real annoyance. His grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, you’d better start expecting more of these.” he says smoothly, tightening his arm around your waist. “Especially if you’re always gonna look this cute.”

Your lips twitch, fighting to hold back the sheepish grin threatening to give away just how much his words fluster you. Before you can come up with a witty retort, he leans back slightly, his tone shifting as he continues. “Besides…” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “Are you really just gonna call me ‘Jungkook’ forever?”

A faint pout tugs at his lips, and you can’t help but laugh at his expression. “Well, isn’t that your name?” you tease, arching a brow at him. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “I mean, it is.” he admits, his tone dragging out the words like he’s laying out a case for you to consider. “But wouldn’t it be… I don’t know, cute if you gave me a nickname? Or at least called me… baby?”

You blink at him, caught between genuine amusement and disbelief. “Big, burly, tattooed biker boy here wants to be called… baby?” you repeat, your tone dripping with teasing. His ears redden slightly, and he looks away with a sheepish huff. “I just think it’s cute.” he mumbles, sounding almost defeated.

Your laughter bubbles out, light and full of affection, and you reach out to cup his cheek. “Oh my god, you’re just so adorable sometimes.” you say, your voice soft as your thumb brushes over his skin. He groans dramatically, but the corners of his lips twitch upward despite his feigned embarrassment.

“Well…” you start, shifting closer to him on the seat. Your hand reaches out for his free one, and your fingers intertwine naturally. “You are a baby sometimes.”

Jungkook glances at you, his eyes softening. “My baby.” you whisper, giggling softly as you squeeze his hand. You watch as his expression transforms instantly, the faintest blush creeping up his cheeks. He looks away, inhaling sharply, but the shy smile pulling at his lips doesn’t escape your notice.

“My baby Koo.” you add quietly, the words rolling off your tongue so sweetly that Jungkook feels his heart stutter in his chest. He exhales deeply, glancing back at you with a mixture of awe and fondness. “You’re gonna kill me, I swear.” he mutters under his breath, his shy grin growing wider.

Just as you're about to reply, a loud, booming voice cuts through the warm, intimate bubble you and Jungkook are cocooned in. “Holy fuck, Y/N?!”

The sound startles you, and both you and Jungkook snap your heads towards the source of the interruption. Standing near your table, Seokjin stares at you with wide eyes, his face full of disbelief.

Right beside him, Juwon, Taehyung, and Namjoon stand equally frozen, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity. In perfect synchrony, their gazes shift from you to Jungkook, who still has his arm loosely draped around your waist.

For a fleeting moment, your brain decides to focus on the most absurd detail. How does Seokjin always manage to show up at the worst possible time? His knack for making grand entrances and interrupting pivotal moments is truly unmatched. But as the seconds tick by, the weight of the situation sinks in, and your stomach churns with nervous energy. Oh no.

Your friends just saw you with Jungkook. They saw you cuddling up to him, laughing with him... being all cutesy and coupley. And the worst part? You hadn’t told them anything about this. Not a single word.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You just… hadn’t found the right moment. How exactly were you supposed to explain that the guy they relentlessly teased you about... the one you constantly vented about... the one you swore up and down you hated... was now your boyfriend? To be fair, even you were still wrapping your head around how quickly everything had developed between you and Jungkook.

And now here they were, your best friends, staring at you like you’d just been caught at the scene of a crime.

Jungkook seems calm, though. Of course, he does. He’s Jungkook after all. While you feel your heart racing, he simply shifts in his seat, his expression unreadable but his grip on your waist subtly tightening in silent reassurance.

And just as you’re processing the shock of your friends’ sudden appearance, the waiter arrives, balancing plates of steaming food. He hesitates for a beat, clearly picking up on the palpable awkwardness in the air, but professionalism wins out as he carefully maneuvers around Seokjin and the others, setting the dishes on your table.

The moment he leaves, Juwon is the first to break the silence, her lips twitching into a knowing smirk. “So this is why we couldn’t reach you today...” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We tried calling you so we could all have dinner together, but you didn’t answer. We thought you’d gone home or something. Turns out…” A smirk creeps up her lips as she gestures vaguely towards Jungkook. “You were on... a date.”

Her emphasis on the last word sends heat crawling up your neck, and you suddenly wish you could disappear under the table. Before you can come up with a witty or at least coherent response, Taehyung steps forward, casually pulling out a chair and plopping himself down right across from you and Jungkook.

“Tae!” Namjoon hisses, his brows furrowed as he shoots him a pointed look. Always the considerate one, Namjoon’s trying to silently tell him to back off and give you and Jungkook some space.

“What?” Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place. “You guys should come sit down too.” he says, glancing over his shoulder at the others with a casual wave of his hand.

Taehyung leans forward now, resting his elbows on the table as his sharp eyes focus on you. “Someone here has a lot of explaining to do.” he drawls, his grin downright mischievous.

You groan internally as Seokjin wastes no time, eagerly grabbing a chair and pulling it up beside Taehyung. Namjoon follows reluctantly, muttering something under his breath about boundaries, while Juwon slides into the seat next to Seokjin, a gleeful grin plastered on her face.

You glance nervously at Jungkook, whose lips curl into an amused smile as he leans back in his seat, completely unfazed. His calmness should be reassuring, but instead, it just highlights how not calm you feel.

“Spill it, Y/N.” Taehyung prompts, motioning for you to speak. “How long has this been going on?” Seokjin suddenly asks. “And don’t even think about trying to dodge the question. We’re not leaving until we get answers.” he adds.

Juwon chuckles, leaning her chin on her hand “You might as well tell us everything now because someone won’t let this go.” she says, jerking her thumb towards Seokjin, who gasps in mock offense.

You exhale deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose as you prepare for the inevitable onslaught of reactions. "Well…" you start, your voice steadying as you straighten your posture. “It’s just been a few days.” you admit, glancing between your friends. “The night of the town fair… to be precise.”

As the words leave your lips, they all gasp in unison, their eyes widening as they exchange looks. “I knew it.” Namjoon says first, shrugging nonchalantly but with an unmistakable glint of triumph in his eyes.

“Me too !!” Taehyung chimes in quickly, his huge smile lighting up his face. He leans forward, practically buzzing with excitement. “The way she went on and on about him?” He points at Jungkook. “I knew it was only a matter of time before they ended up together.” he says.

He claps his hands together, looking absurdly pleased with himself as if he’s just won some long-standing bet. “You went on and on about me?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head towards you with an amused smirk. You groan, glaring at Taehyung as your cheeks grow hot. “I did not go on and on about him.” you huff, crossing your arms defensively. “Oh, really?” Taehyung counters, his sly grin widening. “Because I distinctly remember you ranting about him every time we hung out.”

“Yeah.” Juwon pipes in. “She’d complain constantly, but honestly? I just think she was in denial.” she shrugs as the others quickly nod, agreeing with her. You shoot her a withering glare. “Et tu, Juwon?” (shakespeare reference)

Jungkook chuckles beside you, his deep laugh sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Well, to be fair....” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, “I gave her plenty of reasons to complain. I was… kind of a jerk.” His voice softens towards the end, as if he’s genuinely apologetic.

Seokjin waves him off. “Please, dude. I’m sure Y/N got over it. We’ve all been rooting for this enemies-to-lovers trope anyway.” he giggles.

Taehyung laughs, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you guys are literally the textbook definition of it.” he says. Despite your embarrassment, their laughter and teasing ease some of the tension. Soon, the conversation flows naturally. Your friends place their orders too, and effortlessly bring Jungkook into the fold.

What was supposed to be a quiet dinner date unexpectedly morphs into an impromptu group dinner. To your surprise, though, it’s not as bad as you’d feared. Your friends are kind to Jungkook, and though the occasional teasing makes you want to crawl under the table and hide, you can tell it’s all in good fun.

Jungkook seems perfectly at ease, chatting with them like he’s known them for years. And as you watch him laugh at one of Seokjin’s over-the-top jokes or engage in a friendly debate with Namjoon, the knot of anxiety in your chest slowly unwinds.

Maybe this wasn’t how you’d imagined introducing Jungkook to your friends... the unexpected dinner, the teasing banter, the chaos of unspoken emotions swirling in the air, but as you watch them interact with him, something warms inside you. It’s not just the easy way they welcome him, the lighthearted teasing that feels more like an initiation than an interrogation, or the laughter that fills the space between you all.

No, it’s something deeper, something more unspoken, like a quiet understanding. They’re not just accepting him because of you... they’re seeing the layers of who he is, understanding the way he fits into your world. And in that moment, you realize that it’s more than just the approval of friends. It’s the weight of new beginnings, the unfolding of something beautiful.

A shared connection that isn’t just about you and him anymore, but about the people who matter most in your life embracing this new chapter together.

//

Your feet hit the ground as you slide off Jungkook’s bike, your heart still buzzing from the ride. You glance at him as he swings his leg off the bike with practiced ease, pulling off his helmet with a casual grin.

“Well, that was nice." you breathe out, the lingering thrill of the ride still making your chest rise and fall faster than usual. You remove your helmet, handing it over to him.

He takes it, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “Yeah.” he agrees, his smile widening. “I’m so glad I finally got to meet your friends and talk to them… even if it wasn’t how I imagined it happening.” he says. You laugh, nodding. “True, that was… not planned at all.”

For a moment, a comfortable silence settles between you as you both stand there, looking at each other. The faint sound of the town hums in the background, but all you can focus on is the way his soft smile mirrors your own.

“So…” you finally break the silence, your voice trailing off as you look up at him. Jungkook hesitates, torn between wanting to stay and the realization that the night is getting late. He doesn’t want to leave yet... not when the warmth of your hand still lingers in his and the memory of your laughter echoes in his mind.

“Wanna come upstairs?” you ask suddenly, your voice soft but steady, cutting through the train of thoughts in his head. His eyes widen slightly, and then his lips tug into that familiar mischievous grin. “Drop kick me in the face if I ever say no to a question like that.” he replies quickly, his words laced with playful exaggeration.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics as he moves to park his bike, clearly wasting no time. Within seconds, he’s back at your side, grabbing your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your fingers intertwine, and his grip is firm but gentle, sending a rush of warmth through you. His eagerness is contagious as he practically jogs towards your building, pulling you along with him.

Giggling, you match his pace, your heart light and full as you both burst through the building’s entrance. The sound of your laughter echoes in the stairwell as you climb the steps together, your hands still tightly clasped, the night far from over.

The minute you unlock the door to your apartment, your bag drops to the ground with a soft thud, forgotten entirely as you step inside and turn to face Jungkook. Without a second thought, you throw your arms around his neck.

He reacts instantly, his strong arms wrapping securely around your waist. With an effortless motion, he lifts you off the ground, and a surprised giggle escapes your lips as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

Your arms rest comfortably on his broad shoulders as you look down at him, laughter still bubbling in your chest. He smirks up at you, his warm, steady gaze making your heart race.

Effortlessly, Jungkook carries you to the couch, his movements fluid and sure. He lowers himself onto the cushions with you still in his arms, pulling you even closer until there’s hardly any space left between you. The warmth of his body seeps into yours, a comforting, intoxicating sensation that makes your head spin.

Your eyes lock with his, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, breaths mingling, the emotions between you growing louder with each passing second.

Before you can think, you lean down, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s both desperate and full of longing, full of yearning. His grip on you tightens, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head as he kisses you back with equal fervor, stealing the breath from your lungs and setting every nerve in your body on fire.

He bites down on your lower lip, making you gasp softly, and he takes full advantage of the moment, sliding his tongue in to deepen the kiss. You’re too lost in the moment to even register when you start grinding your hips against his, matching his fervent rhythm. Every sensation, his warmth, the way his body shifts beneath you, the way he breathes between kisses... consumes you completely.

It feels perfect. So utterly, undeniably perfect, and you wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.

“Fuck… I missed you today.” Jungkook suddenly breathes out the moment your lips part, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You stare down at his slightly swollen lips, shiny from your shared kiss, and can’t help the small smile that curves your own.

Your thumb gently brushes over his wet lower lip. “Me too…” you say, your voice is soft, intimate, and full of warmth. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” you whisper.

The admission seems to catch him slightly off guard. His breath hitches as his eyes lock onto yours, wide and filled with something deep and raw. The way you look at him... with so much honesty, so much emotion... it’s almost too much.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, threatening to break free. He wants to say it. He wants to tell you everything he’s been feeling, every thought that’s been swirling in his mind. He wants to promise you the world, to tell you how much you mean to him, how much he wants to be yours in every sense of the word.

But he gulps, forcing himself to hold back. It’s too soon, he tells himself. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, doesn’t want to scare you away by rushing into emotions that feel so huge, so overwhelming.

Instead, he pulls you closer, his hands firm on your waist, and tilts his head to press his lips against yours again. It’s gentler this time, slower but no less passionate. He hopes the kiss tells you everything he can’t put into words just yet. You melt into him, and in that moment, it feels like nothing else matters.

//

2 weeks later; The cool morning breeze of Wednesday brushes against Jungkook’s skin as he rides towards his motorcycle shop, the hum of the bike beneath him a familiar comfort. A faint smile tugs at his lips as his thoughts drift to you.

It’s been about two weeks since you and Jungkook made it official, and each day since then has been nothing short of perfect. You occupy his every waking thought... when he opens his eyes in the morning, you’re the first thing on his mind and when he closes them at night, you’re the last.

As he approaches the street leading to his shop, the anticipation of seeing you again makes his heart quicken. He hasn’t seen you properly since yesterday afternoon, and it somehow feels like a lifetime. But as Jungkook turns the corner, his smile falters, replaced by a deep frown.

A crowd has gathered right outside your flower shop, and there’s an unusual buzz in the air. His eyebrows knit together as he instinctively accelerates, pulling up in front of his shop. He parks his bike hastily and rips off his helmet, his heart hammering in his chest. Pushing through the gathering of onlookers, his eyes dart around, searching for the source of the commotion.

And then he sees it.

The massive front window of your shop is shattered, leaving shards of glass scattered across the pavement. Through the jagged edges of the broken window, Jungkook’s gaze falls on the interior of your shop, and his stomach churns at the devastation.

The once vibrant haven of your flower shop is in absolute ruins. Flower petals are strewn haphazardly across the floor, trampled and torn. Broken glass glitters under the light, covering every surface. Pots are smashed, their contents spilling out onto the tiles in heaps of soil and greenery. Shelves are overturned, their wooden frames splintered and cracked.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest as his mind races to process the destruction. A lump forms in his throat as he imagines the effort and care you put into building your shop, now reduced to this chaotic mess.

“Kook!” A voice cuts through the murmurs of the crowd, sharp and urgent. Jungkook turns to see Yoongi running towards him on the pavement, with Jimin and Hoseok close behind. The sight of their panicked expressions sends a cold chill down his spine. “Fuck, Kook!” Yoongi breathes out as he reaches him, slightly out of breath. “Y/N... she’s... she's in the hospital.”

Jungkook feels the world tilt beneath him, his heart dropping to his stomach. “What?” he demands, his voice barely steady. His eyes dart between Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok, searching for answers.

“Kook, we tried calling you—” Hoseok begins, but Jungkook cuts him off, his tone sharp and desperate. “What the fuck happened here? What happened to Y/N? Why is she in the hospital?” His voice trembles slightly, and his breathing quickens.

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, looking visibly distressed. “We don’t know all the details yet.” he admits. “There was a break-in early in the morning. Someone... someone trashed the shop, and Y/N... she must’ve been there early... and she... she tried to stop them…”

Jungkook’s fists clench tighter, his nails biting into his palms, and his jaw locks so hard it sends a dull ache radiating through his skull. Yoongi’s words replay in his head like a broken record, each repetition twisting the knife deeper.

You, alone and vulnerable, facing down some faceless monster... or worse, monsters... in the quiet, predawn hours. The thought is unbearable, and yet, it takes root in his mind, fueling the fire of his rage.

A wave of fury courses through him, burning just beneath the surface, but it’s barely enough to mask the terror that churns in his chest. He swallows hard against the lump forming in his throat, his breathing uneven as he struggles to keep his emotions from spilling over.

But anger and fear can wait. Right now, he needs to see you. He needs to see you, to make sure you’re okay. He knows he won’t be able to draw a steady breath, let alone think clearly, until he’s by your side.

“Which hospital is she in?”

<- part 12 // part 14 ->

series masterlist

taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape @rpwprpwprpwprw @tokkiggukie @jaytheatiny

[dreamersworldduh]

UNSPOKEN TRUTHS

• Dick Grayson x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — you and Dick Grayson go way back but it’s been so many years since you two last spoke. So what happens when you two reconnect in the oddest way possible.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 7.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! firstly, THANK YOU all for the love and support for Sunday Mornings. Now, this is a long one and I may have gotten a little carried away but nevertheless I hope you all enjoy!

Dick Grayson.

There's an undeniable magnetism about Dick Grayson—an aura that makes it impossible to stay away from him, even when every instinct tells you that you should. He embodies everything that simultaneously irritates and captivates you. He's infuriatingly charming, effortlessly sociable, and devastatingly handsome. Add to that his cocky attitude and penchant for being the ultimate goofball, and you're left with a contradiction wrapped in an irresistible package.

You've known him since your very first year at Hudson University, where fate (or maybe bad luck?) had you both enrolled in the same criminology class. While you were focused on minding your own business, diligently taking notes and keeping your head down, Dick Grayson had other plans. He was the kind of guy who seemed to thrive on interaction, and apparently, you had caught his attention.

It started innocently enough. You were hunched over your notebook, furiously scribbling details from the professor's lecture, utterly engrossed. That's when Dick made his move. Leaning over with that trademark mischievous grin, he decided your focus was far too serious for his liking.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice low enough not to draw the professor's wrath but loud enough to break through your concentration.

You tried to ignore him, hoping he'd get bored and leave you alone. But this was Dick Grayson, and persistence was practically his middle name. He didn't just want your attention—he demanded it. Whether it was tapping on your notebook, cracking an unnecessary joke, or asking a deliberately ridiculous question about the lecture material, he seemed determined to throw you off your game.

At first, you hated him for it. Who did this guy think he was, barging into your quiet world of focus and discipline with his infuriating grin and boyish charm? But over time, something shifted. Maybe it was the way he made you laugh when you least expected it, or the fact that underneath all the cockiness, he was genuinely kind and intelligent.

Dick Grayson wasn't just a distraction; he was a force of nature. And whether you liked it or not, he had a way of turning your world upside down.

Your friendship with Dick began as a slow bloom, nurtured by shared classes, late-night study sessions, and moments of unexpected laughter. What started as a simple camaraderie between classmates grew into an unshakable bond that lasted all four years at Hudson University. The two of you were inseparable, each other's confidant, cheerleader, and partner in crime-solving, so to speak.

By the time graduation rolled around, everyone assumed that life would pull you in different directions. With the ink barely dry on your diplomas, it seemed logical that you'd both scatter to explore the opportunities your criminology degrees offered. And for a while, it seemed like that was how the story would end. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

You eventually landed a job in Blüdhaven as a small-time investigator, the kind of work that fit your personality like a glove. Observant to a fault and driven by a relentless curiosity, you thrived in the world of puzzles and mysteries. Unraveling clues, piecing together fragments of stories, and finding answers where others saw dead ends gave you an unshakable sense of fulfillment.

But being as observant as you were had its downsides. You were the kind of person who couldn't let things go, even when every rational instinct told you to back off. That's how you found yourself in your current predicament—a missing persons case that had taken a dark and dangerous turn.

It had started innocently enough, following breadcrumbs that no one else had noticed. But as you dug deeper, you realized the case was connected to a local gang, one that didn't appreciate your meddling. Unfortunately for you, they'd noticed your snooping long before you realized you were on their radar. By the time you put the pieces together, it was too late. They had you.

The gang's leader, a stereotypical brute with a barrel chest and a growling voice to match, stood over you, barking out threats. His speeches were a predictable blend of clichés: "You should've minded your own business!" and "You don't know who you're messing with!" It would've been almost funny if the situation weren't so dire.

Despite the danger, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride. You'd managed to find the missing person, even if it had landed you in chains. And now, as the leader ranted, you sat there, tied to a chair in some dingy warehouse, mentally kicking yourself for not being more careful.

Then, something caught your eye.

Out of the corner of the dimly lit room, a movement stirred in the shadows. At first, you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. But then, you saw him—a figure dressed in sleek black and blue, moving with cat-like precision through the darkness. The gang leader, oblivious to the silent intruder, continued his tirade, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

The man in the shadows was swift, almost inhumanly so. One by one, the gang members guarding the room were dispatched with precise, fluid motions. He was a blur of calculated power, blending perfectly into the gloom until he wanted to be seen. And then, he was there.

Nightwing.

You'd heard whispers of him before—Blüdhaven's vigilante protector, a myth to some, a menace to criminals. But seeing him in action was another thing entirely. His black and blue suit seemed to absorb the faint light in the room, his presence commanding yet effortless.

As chaos erupted in the warehouse, the gang leader spun around, barking orders to his panicking subordinates. You could only watch in awe—and maybe a little bit of relief—as Nightwing expertly dismantled your captors. You didn't know how or why he'd come for you, but in that moment, you didn't care. All you knew was that your life was in the hands of someone who clearly knew what he was doing.

The warehouse was a symphony of chaos. Nightwing moved like a shadow come to life, his every step deliberate and his strikes landing with unerring precision. You couldn't look away, transfixed by the fluidity of his movements. He wasn't just fighting—he was dismantling. Each thug fell with a grunt or a pained yell, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground. The air was thick with the sharp sounds of punches landing and the dull thuds of bodies hitting the cold cement floor.

The leader, who had loomed so intimidatingly just minutes ago, now looked like a lumbering fool. He charged at Nightwing with brute force, swinging a metal pipe with the confidence of someone who had never faced someone of this caliber before. Nightwing sidestepped with ease, his movements economical and almost effortless. In a flash, the vigilante grabbed the leader's arm, twisted it with a sharp motion, and sent the weapon flying. A quick roundhouse kick to the chest sent the man sprawling onto his back with a groan of defeat.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the fight was over.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Nightwing straightened, his breathing steady despite the intense effort he'd just exerted. He surveyed the room, his sharp gaze ensuring no threats remained. The dim lighting cast a faint glow on his black-and-blue suit, accentuating the imposing figure he cut. You couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and awe, even as your pulse raced from the ordeal.

Finally, his focus shifted to you. His stride was purposeful, his boots barely making a sound as he crossed the distance. He crouched beside you, the sharp angles of his mask now just inches from your face. His hands, encased in black gloves, moved swiftly, slicing through the ropes that bound your wrists and ankles.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but carrying a gentle concern that caught you off guard. His eyes—calm, steady, and searching—met yours briefly, and in that moment, the hostage trembling nearby seemed like an afterthought.

You swallowed hard, your voice shaky as you replied, "I'm fine. Thanks to you."

As he helped you to your feet, his hand lingered on your arm, steadying you. It was a small gesture, but it sent a jolt through you. Those eyes. Brown, warm, and so achingly familiar. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as realization struck.

"Dick?" you whispered, the name escaping your lips before you could stop yourself.

He stiffened, the subtle movement confirming what you already knew. His head turned slightly, his gaze flicking to the hostage, who was watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. His silence said everything.

You bit your lip, realizing your mistake. Swallowing your questions, you forced yourself to focus. The hostage needed to be taken care of, and this wasn't the time or place for the confrontation brewing in your mind.

"Thank you," the hostage managed to stammer, their voice shaky. Nightwing gave them a curt nod, his usual confidence slipping back into place as he offered them a reassuring glance.

Moments later, the sound of sirens filled the air, the flashing red and blue lights of the approaching police cars spilling into the warehouse. Officers rushed in, taking the gang into custody and escorting the hostage to safety. Meanwhile, you stayed put, standing just outside the chaos as the adrenaline slowly ebbed from your system.

Nightwing lingered, his posture tense but his presence solid and unwavering. It was clear he was waiting—perhaps for the right moment, or perhaps for you.

"You're not leaving," you said, stepping closer to him with a sharpness in your tone that surprised even you. "Good. Because we need to talk."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. Still, you caught the faintest hint of unease in his posture. He knew what was coming.

As the last of the police cars pulled away, leaving the two of you bathed in the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp, you finally allowed yourself to say what had been clawing at you.

"It is you," you said softly, the weight of the realization settling over you. "Dick Grayson."

Nightwing let out a soft, resigned sigh. Without a word, he reached up, his gloved fingers curling around the edges of his mask. In one smooth motion, he pulled it away, revealing the face you'd known for years.

The sight of him hit you like a wave. His dark hair was slightly tousled, damp with sweat, and those familiar brown eyes stared back at you with a mix of guilt and apprehension.

"Hi," he said, his voice quiet but steady, as if testing the waters.

You stared at him, struggling to untangle the mess of emotions inside you. Shock, anger, confusion, and something else—something softer—swirled in your chest. "You've been here," you said finally, your voice trembling. "In Blüdhaven. This whole time. And you didn't tell me?"

"It's not that simple," he replied, his tone gentle but laced with regret. "I wanted to. I just... couldn't."

You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared at him. "You're not getting out of this, Dick. We're talking about it. All of it."

A small, sheepish smile tugged at his lips, and for a moment, he almost looked like the carefree friend you remembered from Hudson University. "Yeah," he said softly. "I figured as much."

The weight of the moment hung heavy between you, unspoken questions lingering in the air. There was so much to say, so much you needed to understand, but for now, the two of you simply stood there, the silence stretching like an unspoken promise.

Soon, the two of you arrived at Dick's apartment, the closest and most convenient place to regroup. The space was warm and inviting, a surprising contrast to the gritty chaos of the warehouse you'd just escaped. Dick excused himself to change out of his vigilante uniform, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and his belongings.

It wasn't long before your curiosity got the better of you. Old habits die hard, and you found yourself wandering the apartment, taking in the details. The first thing you noticed was how organized it was compared to his dorm back in college. Gone were the piles of laundry and cluttered desks; everything here had its place. The sleek, minimalist decor hinted at someone who valued function over flair, though the occasional personal touch softened the aesthetic.

There were pictures scattered around, mostly in simple frames. You stopped to study them, recognizing some of the faces from news articles and social media posts. These must be his siblings. During college, Dick had rarely talked about his family, offering only vague hints that he was adopted and that his adoptive father was extremely wealthy. Back then, the extent of his family's resources was evident in the way he casually splurged—never obnoxiously, but like the carefree college student who'd buy a round of shots for half the campus without a second thought.

Your gaze lingered on a particular photo, and your breath caught. It was a picture of you and Dick, taken during a Christmas party in your junior year. The two of you stood beneath a sprig of mistletoe, your face frozen in an exaggeratedly annoyed expression as he planted a kiss on your cheek. But you remembered that moment vividly. You remembered how fast your heart had raced, how flustered you'd felt, and how you'd struggled to keep your reaction under control. Out of all the pictures you'd taken together, you couldn't believe he'd kept this one.

The sound of his voice startled you from your thoughts.

"You know, this is exactly how you got yourself captured the first time," Dick said, his tone tinged with amusement.

You turned sharply, only to find him leaning casually against the doorframe. He was dressed in a navy blue tank top that revealed the lean, athletic build beneath, his arms toned from years of training. Loose-fitting gray joggers hung low on his hips, offering a distracting peek at his defined waistline. For a moment, your thoughts betrayed you, wandering where they shouldn't. You quickly shook the imagery from your mind and refocused, gesturing toward the picture in question.

"Why this picture?" you asked, pointing at the frame.

Dick stepped closer, glancing at the photo with a soft smile. "It's my favorite of us," he admitted, his voice light but honest.

Your chest tightened. You stared at him, studying the way his expression softened as he looked at the photo, as though it held a special place in his memory. You remembered that night clearly, but you'd never imagined it meant as much to him as it had to you.

"You don't even like Christmas," you teased, trying to deflect the sudden wave of emotion threatening to surface.

He shrugged, turning to you with a playful grin. "True. But I like you."

The simplicity of his statement made your heart skip a beat. He said it so casually, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, yet the weight of those words hung heavy in the air between you. You swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.

"Dick..." you began, your voice faltering.

"Don't overthink it," he said, his grin fading into something softer. "I just... like having a reminder of how happy we were. That's all."

You looked back at the photo, the moment frozen in time, and then at him. For all the chaos that had led to this point, standing here with him now, it was hard to deny that something about this moment felt right.

The dining room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the adjacent kitchen. You leaned against the chair, arms crossed, watching as Dick moved to the table where a stack of papers sat in disarray. His movements were deliberate but lacked his usual confidence, as though he were stalling for time.

“So,” you began, your tone cutting through the silence, “I’m guessing things have been rough if you decided to change careers. Last we talked, you were dead set on becoming a cop. It was literally all you could talk about.”

You turned to face him fully, your words sharp but not without curiosity. Dick froze for a moment, his shoulders tensing before he turned his head slightly toward you.

“That’s still in the works,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with defensiveness.

“Yeah?” you shot back, arching an eyebrow as you pointed to the table. “You mean with those blank applications over there?”

Dick followed your gaze to the stack of untouched forms on the dining room table. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair as if that would somehow untangle the thoughts swirling in his head.

“You don’t understand, Y/N…” he started, but you weren’t about to let him finish.

“I may not be a crime-fighting vigilante in spandex,” you interrupted, stepping closer and folding your arms tightly across your chest, “but I do know you can’t keep putting your life on hold like this. Blüdhaven isn’t Gotham, Dick. You don’t have to be out there night and day. It’s not your responsibility to carry this city on your back.”

He turned to face you fully now, his jaw set. “I also run my own team, you know,” he pointed out, his tone firm but not without frustration.

“Okay, and?” you replied, your voice rising slightly. “I’m thankful for what you did tonight—for me, for that hostage, for everyone you help. But come on, Dick. You can’t just live for this. You should have a life outside of your nighttime activities and team leadership. You deserve more than this relentless grind.”

His hands clenched briefly at his sides, and then he threw them up in exasperation. “I did!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I did have that life. Four years, Y/N. Four years of normalcy. School, friends… you.”

You blinked, his words hitting you like a freight train. He wasn’t done.

“I fell in love with you, for god’s sake,” he continued, his voice quieter but no less intense. “But I knew—deep down—I couldn’t hold onto that. I couldn’t keep living in a reality that wasn’t mine to have.”

For a moment, the air between you felt impossibly still. You stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, his words ricocheting in your mind.

“You… fell in love with me?” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Dick looked at you, his expression vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before. His usually confident demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw and honest.

“I never stopped,” he admitted quietly, his gaze unwavering.

The weight of his confession hung heavily in the air, but before Dick could react, reality struck you like a lightning bolt. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The sharp sound echoed in the room, startling you both.

“You waited four years to tell me you’re in love with me?” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of frustration, disbelief, and something you couldn’t quite name.

Dick blinked in surprise, his cheek barely reddened from the slap. He raised a hand to rub at it, murmuring, “Ow.” Though you knew it hadn’t actually hurt him—your slap had been more for dramatic effect than anything else—it still made him flinch slightly.

“You know,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperated humor, “it took a lot of courage to admit this. I mean, at first, I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling. But the more I got to know you…” He paused, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “I was whipped. Everyone knew how protective I was of you.”

“Clearly not everyone,” you shot back, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

Dick tilted his head, his expression softening with that boyish charm that always seemed to disarm you. “That’s because you were always so oblivious to things,” he pointed out, a teasing edge in his tone.

“This isn’t about me,” you retorted, your frustration flaring again. “This is about you—about you waiting years to—”

Before you could finish, Dick’s hands moved with startling quickness, cupping your face as he leaned in, cutting you off completely. His lips crashed onto yours, silencing your protests in an instant.

Your first instinct was to resist, your mind screaming at you to stay angry, to push him away and demand answers. But the moment his lips moved against yours, warm and insistent, your anger began to dissolve like sugar in water. His touch was firm but not forceful, as though he was pouring every unspoken word, every pent-up feeling, into that kiss.

Damn him.

Your hands, which had been frozen in mid-air, slowly lowered to his chest, resting against the fabric of his tank top. You wanted to be mad, to hold onto your indignation, but instead, you found yourself leaning into him. His lips were soft yet commanding, and they melted away every ounce of tension in your body.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the heat of his breath mingling with yours. His brown eyes, now so close, bore into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. There was an undeniable hunger in them, a raw and unguarded lust, but beneath it was something deeper, something that spoke of years of unspoken feelings and restraint finally breaking free.

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with tension as he leaned in closer, his forehead still brushing against yours. His hands, which had been gently cupping your face, slid down to your jaw, his thumbs tracing soft, maddeningly slow circles on your skin.

“I want to make love to you so bad,” Dick whispered, his voice husky and low, the words trembling with emotion. “But I want to do this right.”

The warmth of his breath tickled your lips as he spoke, and the sheer vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. Yet the weight of those words, so raw and sensual, sent a jolt of arousal through you. You felt your body react instantly, your breath hitching as your dick tightened in response.

You had never heard anything like this from him before—such a delicate balance of sweetness and longing, spoken with the kind of confidence that sent heat pooling in your stomach. His voice wasn’t just sexual; it was reverent, like he was making a promise wrapped in desire.

Your hands rested against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tank top as you tried to steady yourself. The warmth of his body beneath your touch only heightened the tension, and you struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

“Dick…” you finally managed, though it came out as little more than a breathless murmur.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze darkened with an intensity that made it clear just how much he wanted you—but he didn’t move, waiting for your response. Waiting for you to meet him halfway. And in that moment, the depth of his restraint only made you want him more.

“I want you to make love to me,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze. The words hung in the air for a moment, electrifying the space between you.

Dick’s eyes darkened instantly, the flicker of hesitation replaced by raw desire and unrestrained passion. That was all he needed. In the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours, crashing against yours with a fury that made your knees weak.

The kiss was nothing like the soft, tentative one from earlier. This was urgent, consuming, as though he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t contain himself any longer. His hands moved to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The heat of his chest pressed against yours, and you could feel his heart pounding as wildly as your own.

You gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with an intensity that made you shiver. His fingers trailed up your back, one hand tangling in your hair while the other held your waist, anchoring you to him.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, sliding over the smooth, warm skin exposed by his tank top. You clutched at him, your fingers curling into the fabric as you felt his muscles flex beneath your touch. He kissed you like a man starved, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years, pouring every ounce of his suppressed longing into it.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling and swollen from the sheer intensity. His forehead pressed against yours as he steadied himself, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse, though the look in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted you.

You nodded, your hands sliding down his chest to rest against his waist. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all he needed to hear before his lips were on yours again, this time softer but no less passionate, as if he wanted to savor every second of what was about to happen.

Dick’s lips moved from yours with deliberate, unhurried precision, trailing a path along your jawline before finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The contrast between his soft kisses and the occasional scrape of his teeth sent a shiver coursing down your spine.

When he finally found your sweet spot just below your ear, your breath hitched sharply, and a low, involuntary moan escaped your lips. The sound seemed to spur him on, his lips lingering as he alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing nibbles.

Your hands, which had been resting lightly against his waist, tightened instinctively. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his joggers, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat radiating from his body. The firmness of his waist beneath your touch grounded you even as your head tilted back slightly, offering him more access.

He hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His arms wrapped around you more securely, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other pressed against the small of your back, holding you flush against him.

“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and rough. The combination of his words and his lips on your skin was overwhelming, igniting an firm erection in your dick that made it impossible to think of anything but him.

Your breathing grew heavier, your chest rising and falling against his as you surrendered completely to the sensations. Every press of his lips, every soft graze of his teeth, sent sparks of pleasure rippling through you, and you couldn’t help but cling to him even tighter.

“Dick,” you breathed, his name spilling from your lips in a way that was half plea, half encouragement. His response was a low, approving growl that made your knees go weak, but his strong arms kept you firmly in place.

Dick’s hands slid down your sides, lingering for a moment at your hips before they gripped your thighs firmly. In one fluid motion, he lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. His strength, always impressive but now impossibly intimate, sent a shiver through you.

Your arms clung to his shoulders for balance as he held you close, your chest pressed against his. His lips captured yours again, and the kiss was slow but no less hungry, his steps steady as he carried you toward the darkly dim room down the hall.

Normally, your inquisitive nature would have taken over, and you’d have surveyed every inch of the space. But right now, your attention was consumed by him—by the heat of his body, the way his fingers flexed against your thighs, and the electric connection between you.

The faint glow of the bedside lamp cast soft shadows on the walls as he entered the room. You barely registered the surroundings, focusing instead on the way his breathing had quickened, mirroring your own. He reached the bed, lowering you carefully to the floor with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

His hands lingered on your hips as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze burning with unspoken desire and reverence. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch warm against your skin as he lifted it over your head. He took his time, his eyes roaming over you like he was memorizing every detail.

Your breath hitched as he began to undress himself, his movements fluid and unhurried. His tank top came off first, revealing the toned lines of his chest and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. His joggers followed, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Your hands moved instinctively to his waist, tugging at the waistband of his boxers, but he stopped you gently, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your collarbone.

His hands returned to you, sliding along your sides with deliberate slowness before slipping beneath the waistband of your own boxers, guiding them down. The intimacy of the moment made your pulse race, every inch of skin he revealed heightening the tension between you.

Now, with both of you standing there, bare except for the thin fabric separating you completely, the air felt charged, heavy with anticipation. Dick’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression a perfect blend of lust and something deeper, something that made your heart pound harder than ever before.

Dick’s hands wrapped around your dick with deliberate care, his grip firm yet gentle. The slow, teasing movements of his fingers as he stroked you sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. His eyes stayed locked on yours, their intensity leaving you breathless. He watched your every reaction, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as soft moans began to spill from your lips.

The sound seemed to embolden him, as if each moan was a symphony only he could conduct. He leaned closer, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Before you could process what was happening, he guided you backward, gently pushing you onto the mattress.

The soft surface cradled you as you fell, the world around you blurring into insignificance. All that mattered was him—his touch, his gaze, his presence. Dick climbed onto the bed, settling himself between your legs with a confidence that made your pulse race.

His hands found your thighs, gripping them firmly but not aggressively as he spread your legs slightly wider. The warmth of his palms was grounding, his touch both possessive and reverent. His eyes never left yours, a silent question hanging in the air, one you answered with a slight nod and a quiet, shaky breath.

Leaning forward, he placed a featherlight kiss just below your navel before lowering himself further. The sensation of his tongue grazing your dick made your back arch slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He didn’t stop there—his tongue trailed down with slow, deliberate strokes before his lips closed around you completely.

The heat of his mouth was overwhelming, his movements skilled and calculated. He alternated between slow, torturous licks and firm, rhythmic suction, drawing louder moans from you with each passing second. The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, mingling with his soft hums as he worked.

Just as you thought the sensations couldn’t intensify, you felt something new. His hand, which had been resting on your thigh, moved downward, his fingers tracing teasing circles near your hole. The first press of his fingertip was gentle, testing, and when he felt your body relax, he slid a single finger inside with the same care.

The combination of his mouth and the intrusion sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and your moans grew louder, higher, uncontrollable. Your hands instinctively reached for him, one tangling in his hair as the other clutched at the sheets beneath you.

“Dick,” you gasped, his name spilling from your lips like a plea.

He glanced up at you, his brown eyes dark with desire, a glint of satisfaction evident as he took in the sight of you unraveling beneath him. He added a slight curl to his finger, hitting a spot that made your entire body tremble. The way your voice broke with pleasure was like fuel to him, and he redoubled his efforts, his lips and fingers moving in perfect harmony to push you further toward the edge.

The only thing you could do was surrender to him completely, your mind and body consumed by the intensity of the sensations he was creating.

The sudden press of a second finger into your hole sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, a sharp moan escaping your lips at the unexpected intrusion. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, your chest rising and falling as Dick’s fingers moved inside you with increasing speed. Each curl and thrust was precise, hitting spots that made your back arch off the mattress in ecstasy.

The heat pooling in your hole was overwhelming, your breath coming in short gasps as you struggled to keep up with the rhythm he was setting. Just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of control, his fingers stopped abruptly and slid out, leaving you gasping at the loss of contact.

“Why did you—” you began, your voice breathless and laced with confusion, but the words caught in your throat as your eyes traveled down to him.

Dick had shifted back slightly, his hands hooking into the waistband of his boxers. With deliberate slowness, he slid them down his hips, his eyes never leaving yours. As the fabric pooled at his knees, your gaze dropped, and your breath hitched at the sight before you.

His dick was fully revealed, and he was… well, impressively endowed. Huge as hell. The dim light of the room cast shadows that only emphasized his size and shape, and for a moment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The anticipation in the air was electric, and the confident smirk playing at the corners of his lips told you he noticed your reaction.

“You were saying?” he teased softly, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

Your mouth opened to reply, but no words came. Instead, your eyes flickered back up to meet his, and the hunger in his gaze made your stomach flip. He moved closer, his hands returning to your thighs, gently spreading them wider as he leaned over you, his bare skin brushing against yours. The weight of him above you, combined with the heat radiating from his body, sent your pulse racing again.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a mix of tenderness and desire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”

His smile softened for a moment, a flicker of something deeper crossing his expression before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an invitation.

Dick broke the kiss, his breath warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly. His eyes stayed locked on yours, filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. Reaching over to his dresser, he grabbed a small bottle of lube, his movements deliberate but steady.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing a reassuring circle against your hip.

You nodded, your anticipation building as he popped the cap. The cool gel landed on your hole, and you squirmed at the sudden chill, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Dick chuckled lightly at your reaction, his hands smoothing over your thighs to steady you.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he worked the lube gently around your hole. The sensation was strange but not unpleasant, his touch careful and precise.

Once he was satisfied, he coated himself in the gel, his large hands moving confidently as he spread it over his dick. The sight alone made your heart race, but before you could get lost in the thought, he tossed the bottle somewhere across the room with a soft thud, refocusing entirely on you.

His hands returned to your waist, gripping you firmly but gently as he positioned himself between your legs. The weight of his gaze anchored you, and you took a deep breath as you felt the head of his dick press against your hole.

“This might feel a little intense at first,” he warned, his voice husky but tender. “Let me know if you need me to stop.”

You nodded again, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as he began to push forward slowly. The stretch was immediate, his size making you wince slightly as your body adjusted. Dick paused, his brows furrowed in concentration as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re doing amazing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple before trailing down to your cheek.

He continued inching forward, his movements measured and deliberate, giving you time to adjust with each small push. By the time he was fully seated inside you, your breaths were coming in shallow gasps, but you could feel the tension in your body beginning to ease.

Dick stayed still for a moment, his forehead resting against yours. His hands moved up to cradle your face as he kissed you softly, his lips tender and warm. “You feel so damn good,” he murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down your jawline and neck.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered between kisses, his words laced with affection as he peppered your skin with soft touches. His hands stroked your sides gently, grounding you while his lips worked to soothe any lingering discomfort.

“You’re everything,” he added, his voice low and filled with emotion, as though each word was meant to make you feel as cherished as possible.

The warmth of his presence, the tenderness of his touch, and the sincerity in his words made it impossible not to relax completely. Your body adjusted to him, the initial discomfort fading into something far more intimate and fulfilling.

Dick’s thrusts began slow and deliberate, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he slid in and out of your hole. Each thrust was careful, as if he were gauging your every reaction, ensuring you were comfortable. The initial stretch had given way to a new sensation—fullness that sent sparks of pleasure radiating through you with every deliberate motion.

Your hands clutched at the sheets, your knuckles whitening as you let out a shaky moan. The heat building in your core only intensified as Dick’s strokes grew deeper, his pace gradually increasing. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to anchor you but not hurt. He adjusted his angle slightly, and the next thrust hit a spot that made your back arch off the mattress and a louder moan escape your lips.

“That’s it,” Dick murmured, his voice a deep, encouraging rasp that sent shivers through your body. “Let me hear you.”

Your moans grew more unrestrained as his movements became more confident, each stroke deeper and more precise than the last. His body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin adding to the growing intensity. The sound of your bodies moving together—his labored breathing, your gasps, the rhythmic creak of the mattress—filled the dimly lit room, creating an atmosphere of pure intimacy.

“Dick,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips as the pleasure built higher. His response was a low groan, his eyes locking onto yours as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. His lips were warm, insistent, and grounding, keeping you tethered to him even as your body felt like it might unravel from the sensations he was creating.

Every thrust felt like a wave crashing through you, each one pulling you further under, until all you could do was cling to him and let him take you where he wanted.

“Say it again,” Dick whispered in your ear, his voice low and full of need. His thrusts grew faster, deeper, his breath hot against your skin. “Say my name.”

“Dick,” you moaned, your voice breaking as another thrust sent a wave of pleasure surging through you. “Ugh, Dick—”

He growled softly at the sound of his name on your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you up from the bed. In one fluid motion, he shifted, sitting back on his knees with you straddling him. Your legs remained tightly wrapped around his waist, your bodies pressed together as his hands slid up your back, anchoring you against him.

You didn’t need any encouragement. Your body took over, moving instinctively as you began to rise and fall along his dick. Each motion sent him deeper inside you, filling you completely, and your moans grew louder, spilling into his ear with every movement.

The sensation was overwhelming—the stretch, the heat, the way his hands gripped your hips to guide you as you moved. But before another moan could escape, Dick silenced you with a kiss. His lips crashed into yours, passionate and demanding, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion and desire. “I love you so fucking much.”

Your breath hitched at his confession, your heart racing as you whimpered in response. “I love you too, Dick. I love you.”

The rhythm between you grew faster, more desperate, as your body tightened around him. The pleasure was building, an unstoppable crescendo that left you trembling in his arms. You buried your face in his neck, gasping out, “I’m close. Faster, baby. Please.”

His lips brushed your ear as he chuckled softly, his voice deep and intoxicating. “As you wish.”

With that, he tightened his grip on your hips and thrust upward with renewed intensity, meeting each of your movements with precision. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the steady slap of your bodies moving together. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life.

Dick’s lips found yours again, his kisses feverish and consuming as he whispered words of love and encouragement between each kiss.

Your entire body tensed as the pleasure reached its peak, and you let out a cry of pure bliss, your climax washing over you in waves that left you breathless and shaking in his arms.

Dick’s thrusts didn’t falter for a moment. If anything, they became more relentless, each one deeper and more deliberate than the last. His breathing grew heavier, his body pressing firmly against yours as his rhythm quickened. The telltale tension in his muscles and the soft groans spilling from his lips signaled that he was nearing his own climax, but he didn’t let up.

His lips never left your skin, moving from your mouth to your neck and back again, as though grounding himself in the intimacy of the moment. Each kiss was full of raw passion, his lips trailing heat and leaving you breathless.

“You feel so good,” Dick murmured against your ear, his voice strained and low. “So perfect.”

The intensity of his thrusts made it impossible to form coherent words. Your body arched instinctively, your hands clutching at his back as he held you tightly against him. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten, his fingers digging in slightly as his movements became more erratic, more desperate.

“Y/N,” he groaned, your name rolling off his tongue in a deep, guttural tone that sent shivers through you.

A moment later, he buried himself to the hilt, his hips pressing flush against yours as he reached his breaking point. The warmth of his release filled you, a rush of heat that made you gasp. His head fell against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he rode out the waves of his climax, his body trembling slightly against yours.

Even then, his lips continued their tender assault, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder and up to your neck. His voice was a low whisper, almost inaudible over the sound of your labored breathing.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d hit you,” you breathed out, your voice heavy with exhaustion but tinged with playful annoyance.

Dick chuckled, his warm breath ghosting over your neck as he pressed a soft kiss to your skin. “Why?” he asked, his tone light and teasing. “What did I do this time?”

“You robbed me of four years of amazing sex,” you replied matter-of-factly, shooting him a tired glare that only made him laugh harder.

His laughter was rich and unrestrained, his chest vibrating against yours as he leaned back just enough to lift his head from your neck. His gaze locked onto yours, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. Without warning, he captured your lips in a kiss so passionate and full of promise that it left you breathless all over again.

When he finally pulled back, his grin was wicked, and his voice dropped to a husky murmur. “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started,” he said, his hand sliding down your side possessively. “I hope you don’t have plans in the morning.”

You barely had time to process the meaning of his words before his lips were on you again, igniting another round of passion that carried you both well into the night.

By the time morning rolled around, the two of you were sprawled on the floor of his living room, completely spent. The apartment bore the evidence of your nocturnal escapades: furniture slightly askew, scattered pillows, and discarded clothes littering the space. The air was still faintly warm from the fire you’d burned through the night.

Dick’s strong arms were wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear. Your face was tucked into the crook of his neck, your breaths soft and even against his skin. His chin rested gently atop your head, and both of you wore blissful smiles as the sunlight began to filter through the curtains.

The world outside was quiet, but in that moment, everything felt perfectly complete. There, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared intimacy, you both slept peacefully, content in a way you hadn’t been in years.

[zablife]

Being Benny's Girl Would Include

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: After creating a similar list for Johnny, I now have one for Benny. Ty to a lovely anon for requesting it!

Warnings: slightly nsfw, drinking, mention of injury, mention of a weapon

♡ There are many sleepless nights, worrying about him out on the open road. And you have good cause bc he's constantly returning to you bruised and bloodied.

♡ You learn how to dress wounds, even sew a few stitches, bc he's too stubborn to go to a hospital, preferring your gentle touch instead. "You're better than any damn doctor, sweetheart."

♡ If you pout when he returns, he'll try to make you forget how upset you've been with a bit of teasing that cleverly puts something else in the forefront of your mind. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

♡ When you're feeling clingy, he'll take you down to the bar with him, not giving a shit what the guys think when you leave lipstick on him or pluck the cigarette from his lips for a drag instead of lighting your own. In fact, he encourages your behavior, flipping his chair around in hopes your small hand will nestle into the back pocket of his Levi's.

♡ Benny's not much of a talker, but he opens up to you bc you're the first person who's ever really cared enough to ask the right questions. That makes him want to tell you things he's never said out loud. He confides the ring on his pinkie came from his granddaddy, the only real father figure he ever knew.

♡ He gifts the important possession to you as a sign of his devotion and his heart skips a beat when he thinks about how you wear it on a chain bc it would slip off your delicate finger too easily otherwise.

♡ You're his sweet girl, an angel so precious he has restless nights worrying about you amongst all the burly men in the rough bars and pool halls he frequents. His concerns over keeping you safe giving him full blown insomnia after Kathy is attacked at a house party.

♡ You'll prob find yourself in an empty field the next morning, caged in by Benny's muscular arms, holding his .38 in your trembling hands. Nodding toward the line of beer bottles in the distance as he softly instructs, "squeeze the trigger real slow as you exhale. You can do it, darlin'."

♡ You didn't see the need considering the protective way he drapes his arm over you, eyes cautiously scanning the room with a feral look in his eye. Everyone knows what it means. Touch her and you're a dead man.

♡ He's been known to take things too far, esp when he's drinking. Once a guy collided with you at the bar, spilling beer down your white dress and turning it sheer. The unlucky son of a bitch found himself on the street seconds later facing the broken end of the bottle inches from his throat.

♡ The novelty of having your honor defended loses its appeal with every trip to county. Benny senses it in your anguished sigh and furrowed brow when you come to bail him out, hanging his head shamefully the moment he catches sight of you.

♡ Since there's nothing he hates more than disappointing you, he tries to keep his impulses in check and focus on your needs. "You know I'd do anything for you, angel."

♡ Nothing made your heart race with excitement quite like the day he stole you away for a winding ride that ended under a magnificent orange sunset. When he removed his shirt to make love to you in the tall grass, you glimpsed your name freshly inked over his heart.