#I'm sorry but I hope someone enjoyed this nonetheless

[thanosscross]

Your Man - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P X Race Car Driver! Reader

Summary: After Y/n L/n starts to rise to fame with her new racing career, she ends up in contact with an older celebrity, Seung Hyun, leading to one of the best things to ever happen to you, even if he was a little older.

Warnings: The highly requested, age gap story, lovelies! Reader is 23-24 and Seung Hyun is 36-37, so quite a gap, but everybody is of legal age! <3 other than that, I feel like it's mainly just fluff and angst with a hint of plot, so please enjoy lovelies <3

Whenever you entered your early twenties, you had high hopes, you had just graduated college, and your training to finally go on the race tracks for your agency. You knew from a very young age who you wanted to be, a race car driver, and you stuck with that idea throughout your childhood and teen years, until you finally made your idea a reality, becoming one of the newest drivers in this year of races.

Along with new found fame with your profession, you also came into contact with a lot of different famous people, people you felt were a lot more famous than you, but nonetheless they were still fans of yours. Including one person who ended up gaining your interest and almost all of your attention at first, Choi Seung Hyun, an older retired Idol, and actor. You didn't care that he was older, a lot older than you, he was sweet, and you both clicked together immediately, always talking in your free time, showing your new friend all your new car adjustments, seeing all of the artwork he had made or purchased, or just talking about upcoming events for you both. It didn't take very long for you both to develop feelings for each other, Seung Hyun was very, very skeptical at first, not wanting to cause any more drama or upstir with social media, especially not your fans, for being with someone who was 23 while he was 36. With your persistence and reassurance for a few months, Seung Hyun and Y/n L/n had finally made things official though, you both deciding to just come out with it to the media, before someone else got the chance to spoil it for you both.

So now you were going a year strong, you had your issues every now and then, but you both were each other's home, somewhere you felt safe, no matter where you were, what the environment was like, you'd always be home with each other.

As you laid on your apartment floor, you huffed, looking up towards your boyfriend who was visiting from South Korea, who was currently having an argument with himself in his head about how to bring up something to you. "Jagiya..are you okay?" You whispered, running a hand through your f/c dyed hair, it being part of your contract for promotional and appearance purposes, that you always had to match your style towards your current car, something Seung Hyun secretly hated. "Hmm?..Oh, I'm sorry, Aein, yea, yea I'm okay, why?" He replied after a moment, glancing back down towards you, you smiled softly at him, falling in love with him all over again as his hair fell in front of his glasses slightly. Slowly moving to sit on your knees, resting your hands on his knees as you tilted your head "I can tell somethings bothering you, don't make me pull the full name card" You threatened, giggling loudly as he gave you a confused look, not understanding exactly what you were threatening. As you moved to sit next to him, you smiled "Choi Seung Hyun, what's going on?" You asked softly, Seung Hyun nodded softly as he understood finally what a 'full name card' was, he was slowly catching onto the slang and phrases you used. "Now that my interviews are all wrapped up for now..I was thinking of staying to watch your race coming up?.." He offered nervously, it wasn't something either of you had spoken about before, yes you had been on set with him, often visiting him for his lunch breaks, but he hadn't ever been to one of your races in person. It wasn't because he didn't want to, of course he wanted to be there to support his #1 girl, but being seen like that in public felt very real for the both of you, it would just confirm everything and multiply any hate you'd get for your age gap. "R-Really? That'd be amazing, Jagiya! Please! Oh it'd be so awesome having you there! Everybody on my pit crew already loves you!" You rambled excitedly, placing your hands on his cheeks as he smiled at you, you looked absolutely beautiful to him, all the time, but especially whenever you were excited about something. "I'd love to, Aein, anything for my girl" He smiled softly, blushing still as you pressed your lips against his gently, resting one of your hands on his chest as you moved your lips against his. "Thank you! thank you" You cheered as you slowly pulled away, Seung Hyun laughing softly as you were still just as hyped up after the kiss you just had.

As Seung Hyun held you gently as you slept, he couldn't help but let his mind wander on how exactly he ended up with you. You were a famous 24-year-old American race car driver, and he was a retired 'controversial' 37-year-old actor, you could literally date any person you wanted, you were absolutely stunning, but you still chose him? He couldn't understand it, yes, he absolutely loved being with you, and loved loving you, but he just couldn't understand why out of everybody, you decided to be with him. The longer he let his mind ponder the thought, he could feel himself starting to doze, eventually falling asleep as he kept his arms around you, feeling a lot more comfortable with you close to him.

The next week would be hectic, none of your training or promotional gigs going as planned the week of the race, first your wheel malfunctions as your taking the first curve of the track during practice, then an interviewer starts asking wayyy too personal questions, and of course, to top it off, your brakes for some reason, stopped working, mid final practice. You were starting to lose hope until the day of the biggest race in your career currently, Daytona 500, as you walked out onto the track, finding your way towards your pit crew and family who were separated by a barricade, keeping press and other drivers' families away from the cars and track. As you approached the area, you frowned, seeing your mom, dad, and pit crew, but no Seung Hyun anywhere to be found "Hey mom, have you seen Seung Hyun? He said he'd be here" You asked, using the bar of the barricade to lift yourself up slightly to try and spot your boyfriend, but still, nothing.

Seung Hyun sat on a small platform above the starting line, he wanted to be with your family by the track, but after a few hundred people swarmed him at the entrance, security grabbed him away from the crowd, hiding him in the one spot they could think of at the moment. As you looked around, you finally sighed, glancing at your parents, shrugging sadly before turning towards the press, ready to get the race started, and hopefully figure out where the hell he is. While you spoke to the press, you failed to notice your boyfriend quickly moving across the empty track, two security guards escorting him towards your family finally. Moving back over to your car, you smiled brightly seeing the familiar face of Seung Hyun "Jegiya! I thought you wouldn't make it" You smiled brightly, leaning over the gate to hug him tightly, ignoring your mom's judgmental look, sure she supported you, but that didn't mean she liked the idea of you being with a much older man. "Of course I'd make it, I wanna see my aein kick some ass" He smiled brightly, cupping your cheeks as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before all racers were called to their cars.

Climbing in through the window, you made sure to clip on your helmet, making sure your coms worked before starting up your engine, waiting for the greenlight from your pit crew to move over to the starting line. "Y/n, this is going to a smooth race, don't let this week get to you, all that matters right now is getting through this race" your Crew Chief, Jacob, said through your headset, causing you to shake your head gently "I know, I'm gonna try and make this one my best one yet, let's just keep everything quick, smooth, and keep lines open" You replied, pressing the small buttons on your helmet to start your playlist, 'Case 143' by Stray Kids starting to blast through your headphones as you watched the flag holder closely, getting ready to line up with the pace car.

The first thirty laps were going smoothly, you made your way from 27th place all the way up to fourth place without any issues. You knew most of the other drivers, either training with them, or just meeting them at different races, but there were still a handful you had never met, including the driver in fifth place behind you. "Y/n, fifth is right on your ass! Be careful!" Jacob shouted, watching nervously as the driver bumped the hood of his car against the rear of yours, causing you to lose control for a moment, somehow recovering just in time to block him from passing you. "Nice save, hun! Keep that quick mindset and get yourself to first, y/n/n!" He shouted, watching as you zipped past them quickly, your speedometer reading well over 100 miles per hour. As you attempted to pass the car in front of you, you felt your heart fall as you realized you were trapped between the wall and third place driver, along with another car close behind you, basically boxing you in. As you glanced over, you shot the driver a dirty glare, knowing damn well he'll get a penalty if anything happens, so all he was doing was being a dick by trapping you. As you managed to get your car free from his and the wall, you were flung against the seatbelt by another car slamming into your back fender, sending you into a spinning wreck as your car spun out into the turf in the center of the track. "Y/n!? Y/n! Get the hell back on the track!" Jacob pleaded, begging every god out there for you to fucking move already, you wouldn't be able to though, your padded suit and leg getting caught between your seat and gearshift, making it almost impossible to press the gas or breaks "J-Jacob I can't move!" You shouted, starting to panic, feeling a sense of dread as you watched cars starting zip past quickly, if you didn't figure out something quick, you were surely going to lose your spot, and become so far behind, it unfixable. Slamming your other foot on the gas, you felt the car jerk forward, sending you speeding back onto the track as you merged back in with the race.

Seung Hyun could feel his body being consumed by nerves, hating the idea of him not being able to help you in any way, but as you zipped past quickly, passing two other cars in the process, he knew you had this as under control as possible. You could feel your heart start to hammer in your chest as you raced side by side with the driver who was currently in first place, your nerves too high to notice any glares or hand gestures he sent towards you through his window. "Now Y/n! Go!" Jacob screamed into the headset, noticing you only had one curve left to pass this guy or else the race would end in a tie, or with you in second "I'm going!" You shouted, growling whenever the driver next to you did the same thing, both of you speeding up as you whipped around the corner quickly. As you pressed harder on the gas, you could feel the pain in your leg start become a lot worse, but your mind was only focusing on two things. Winning, and the sounds of Seung Hyun in the background of Jacob's chants, cheering you on to be badass and to take the gold. As you passed the driver, taking on first place, your tires crossed the finish line, causing cheers to erupt from everywhere, the stands, barricade line, and your headset. Taking a victory lap to help slow down your high speeds before parking, letting the panic wash over you as you realized how much pain you were truly in from your leg being stuck. As you glanced down, you tried your best to assess the damage without freaking yourself out more, your knee was stuck between the gear shift and seat, and your foot was twisted in an unnatural way as it was caught in the track on your seat. “J-Jacob, I-I’m stuck bad, I need a medic” you whimpered, trying desperately to pry your helmet off of your head so you could at least get some freedom “okay, okay! We’ve got a medic on her way, we’re gonna try and get you out of the car until then okay?” His voice came through the coms as you tried your best to pry the plastic pieces apart to free your knee at least, only causing you even more pain.

The minute Seung Hyun realized you weren’t getting out of your car and something was wrong, he threw himself over the barricade, rushing along side Jacob to the driver side of your car. “Aein, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically, reaching through the open window to hold onto your shaking hands gently. “I-i’m…chilling” you whimpered, trying not to cry or panic in front of him, knowing it’d just make him panic and start dismantling your car to get you out, even if it meant totaling it out. “Are you bleeding? What happened?” He continued rambling, not stepping back until the medics pulled him back, as he watched from a few feet away, he made eye contact with your parents, feeling a new kind of anxiousness filling his body as his mind started to spiral. Moving to rush over to your parents to swap them spots, feeling like it was more of your parents’ place to be there, waiting, instead of him. Your mother huffed giving him a confused look “What’re you doing, dear!? Why aren’t you staying over there?!” Your mother asked, tilting her head as she watched him nervously stop in his tracks “I-i, your h-her mom and dad-“ he started to ramble, your mother wasn’t stupid, and she knew exactly how Seung Hyun felt, you weren’t the only one who had started dating an older man, and while she didn’t like it, she wasn’t going to become her own mother. “Honey, she needs you. She’s going to want to see you for comfort as soon as she’s out of that car, so I’m telling you as your future mother in law, go take care of my daughter.” She demanded, watching as her words kind of gave Seung Hyun the push he needed to get into a non-panicked mindset, rushing back over to your car as the medics slowly helped you out of the car, keeping your leg in a wooden splint to keep it stable.

“Aein! Baby I’m here!” He shouted quickly, rushing past your pit crew and press that now swarmed you, he wrapped his arm around you gently, following the medics as he helped you support yourself as you walked with him.

After being sent from the medical building, to the actual hospital, you were finally able to return back home to your apartment, much to your relief. As you laid on your bed, you glared at the bright f/c cast that sat on your leg going from your thigh all the way to your toes, covering your knee, ankle, and foot to help it in the healing process. “You know..glaring won’t make it go away” your boyfriend whispered, his voice still heavenly to your ears as he slowly made his way from the doorway to his spot next to you in bed. “I hate it, you know they said I can’t drive for eight months, if not longer!?” You gasped dramatically, cupping his cheeks “I’m going to die! I swear! How the fuck am I supposed to live laugh and love in these conditions? Honestly?” You ranted, motioning to your leg “because I am not living! Laughing! Or loving! And it’s criminal damnit!” You continued, not noticing your boyfriend’s beyond confused face at all of your phrases that you were throwing around. It wasn’t that Seung Hyun was bad at English, he had actually gotten a lot better since he started talking with you almost daily, but he did get confused about certain things you’d say, one of them being you calling things criminal, how was your leg being broken criminal? Was breaking your leg actually illegal in America? Surely not, but, if not why was it criminal? “Are you going to jail?” He asked softly, feeling his heart starting to break as he genuinely started to believe the longer you rant, the more illegal, and criminal it was to break your leg “Wha-..? Oh Jegiya, my love no!” You giggled, catching your mistake almost as soon as you saw his overly worried expression “h-how is that criminal then?..” he asked tilting his head slightly as he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you close, all while being cautious of your cast and leg.

“It’s just a thing..that people say I guess, it’s not actually criminal though, Jegiya, I promise” you smiled, not being able to hold back your giggles as he nodded gently. You couldn’t help it, he was so damn adorable whenever he was confused like this, it just made you want to hug him and never let go. “Is there anything I can do for you, love?” Seung Hyun whispered after a moment, tracing his fingers over your shoulder as he let out a deep breath “Just you, Jegiya” you whispered, holding onto him tightly as you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax “hey Y/n?…” he whispered gently, causing you to tilt your head up gently to meet his gaze “I’m proud of you, you’re like..the coolest badass I know” he smiled softly, pressing his lips to your forehead gently “ya know, ever since I showed you the word badass in English, you’ve been calling me it every five seconds” you laughed, watching as he just shrugged in reply “because you’re a badass, I’m just saying the truth” he replied playfully, starting to run his fingers through your hair as he took another breath “Aein…how would you feel about getting a home here together?” He asked after a moment, you sat up, tilting your head, silently asking him to repeat himself just to make sure you heard him correctly, after getting confirmation that, yes, he did want to get a house with you, you smiled brightly. “I would be so excited!! Please! I’d love it so much” you smiled, hugging him tightly as you smiled, as you laid there for a little longer, Seung Hyun had one last question for you, it starting to chip away at him way too much for him to stay quiet any longer.

“Why did you ask me out?..like, out of everybody in this world, why some weird guy who’s way older than you? Wouldn’t you want somebody your age? Who’s able to keep up with you?” He rambled, causing you to sit up again, this time highly offended, how fucking dare he, not only questioning your judgement, but also talking down towards himself? What the fuck. “Stop. Just stop it Seung Hyun. I like my weird guy, he’s weird like me, and it makes him fun to be around” you started your lecture, taking his hand in yours gently as you spoke “and for the other stuff? I’ve told you, my love. The same reason you like me, I didn’t fall in love with your age or name, I fell in love with you, and your personality, and trust me, handsome, you keep up with me better than anybody, you’re amazing” you giggled, biting your bottom lip teasingly as he rolled his eyes towards you jokingly “I just mean-“ you cut him off before he could even start his protests “Choi Seung Hyun. I love you.” You demanded, not knowing how to get it through to him without just stating how you truly felt towards him. “Y/n…” he whispered, trying to think of what to say as his anxiety started to take over his body “I love you too” he whispered, pressing his lips against yours, moving his with yours as he gently placed his hands on your side and cheek.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen after you recovered, but you were 100% sure about one thing, just like you were sure about being a race car driver, you were going to marry this man. As you pulled away slowly, you rested a hand on his cheek gently “I’m so sleepy, I just wanna lay here with you” you whispered tiredly, moving to lay your head on his chest, tracing shapes onto his chest as you felt yourself starting to doze “well I would be too, Aein, you had one hell of a day” he replied, continuing to run his fingers through your hair as you slowly fell asleep, leaving Seung Hyun to his own thoughts before finally falling asleep himself.

—

What do we think lovelies? You like? I’m so sorry it’s been awhile, like I said a few days ago, I’ve been stuck in a small rut feeling as if my stories haven’t been coming out that well at all, that or they’re just not good ideas at all, so I tried my best with this one as I’m trying to just push through that rut, trying to keep in mind every artist will always be their biggest critic, but it’s been a little difficult but you lovelies are always such a big help and support 💕 While I'm very nervous to start posting the stories I'm iffy about, your guys' support is definitely helping me through it all, so thank you all truly, for everything you've done for me, it means the world, and universe. 💕💕 I’ve gotten quite a bit of asks and messages about an Age Gap story with Seung Hyun and a younger reader, so please! Please! Please! Let me know what you think, next to be posted is my ‘stepdad! Ji-Yong x single mother! Reader’ story, which I’m very excited about so stay tuned lovelies! maybe after that a part two to this if you'd like? Or another age gap story if you'd like? Let me know! <3 I love you 🫶🫶 and I’m excited to hear from you!! 🫶💕

—

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

@goodnight-n-go-home

@skzdreamz

@enhasrii

@sunhyeswife

@ilovethe141

@saraaisfree

@sassyyoyo

@i-might-be-vanny

@cheese10001

@live-laugh-lovef1

@c1delight

@blue-sky336

@sherrayyyyy

@forevervibezzzz1

@mirahyun

[champoflightning]

Zettablogging plans/notes!

I originally wanted to clean this up and make it more detailed and nice before posting it! However that doesn't seem to be happening, so I think I shall just post what I had! Spoilers for Nexomon and Sun/Ultra Sun!

-Got Ultra Wormholed after being freed from the Underworld but before getting back to the main world. Is secretly both worried about his family/what that means, and very secretly glad to be out of there.

-Has a bit of a rivalry going on with Tapu Koko. It's increasingly a friendly rivalry, but Zetta will probably always call him "that jerk".

-First partner is a Rotom because of course it is. He gets the Rotom that would inhabit the protagonist's Rotomdex in canon.

-Can talk to electric type Pokemon, speaking the language of electricity and currents. Can't talk to any other ones.

-Puts up a token effort to pretend to be human around the villagers of Iki Town. Does not bother on Rotomblr. (Theoretically pretends to be human in front of Kukui, however Kukui watched him meet and talk to his Rotom buddy so that skitty's out of the bag. Kukui probably thinks he is a Rotom.) This does not stop him from trying to get zapped by every electric type pokemon he sees. -He will eventually find out about the power plant on Ula'ula, go there, and cause a blackout by eating up the electricity there. Never admits responsibility to anyone but it's really obvious.

-Zygarde doesn't like him, for obvious reasons. He gives off the same sort of aura as an Ultra Beast. The other Tapu also start rushing to fight off this new Ultra-intruder when he lands on their islands, until and unless Koko steps in to explain.

-Is aware of Lillie as Kukui's protege, but doesn't actually meet her until late in the "game". Is in the Ultra Sun-verse, kind of. (A blend of Sun and Ultra Sun.)

-Is still pre-character-development; thinks humans are expendable, but kind of entertaining. Is royally (heh) offended to be running errands for one, but Kukui's wife studies the wormholes that dropped Zetta in Alola and she's probably his best shot at getting home. So he plays nice. He slowly gets casually fond of the ones he interacts with a lot.

-Doesn't use Pokeballs; doesn't see a reason to, and shorts them out.

-Gets a more appropriate outfit for Alola but refuses to lose his visor.

-Will eventually punch Necrozma in the face. This is not negotiable. And/or bite them.

-Runs into Xurkitree at the Aether Foundation when Moon and Gladion drag enlist him to help them rescue Lillie. Their ensuing fight and subsequent alliance would probably scare everyone who saw it if they weren't occupied with other matters at the time.

-Can't currently transform because Necrozma ate all his electricity. The more time he spends in Alola the more he recovers, though. He is incredibly whiny and upset until he starts to feel like himself again. Koko gives him a charge boost near the end so he can transform and go beat up Necrozma. (There is an AU where I tossed in a reference to one of my favourite fics and Zetta gets in contact with more legendaries at this point, but I never heard back on if it was okay for me to do that, so it remains an AU)

-Eventual team is Rotom, Vikavolt, Dedenne, Electivire, Xurkitree, aaand Oricorio-P.

-Drags his feet a little on going home; Lillie and the URS are happy to help him do so after he sends Necrozma packing, but eventually he realizes he can't put it off anymore and he has to face the music in his own world, maybe with a bit more compassion and humility than he'd had when he arrived. I would have used this foot-dragging to justify posting even after the main arc had finished.

[b4kuch1n]

dip pen ink comm second round for in order R. Burry, @sega-bass-kissing, and Solaris

[skzdarlings]

the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader

requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? 😩 please 🥰. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU

pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment.  You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him.  A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood.  Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.  

“Hi there,” you say sweetly.  You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you.  You bound up to the kitchen counter.  “Can I ask you something?”  

Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed.  Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses.  He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out.  A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device. 

You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…

It’s too late.  Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face.  He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter.   Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course.  Hi.  How are—”  He yawns before he can finish.  The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.   

You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks.  Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully.  He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop.  Your eyes are still on his hands.   

“Jeongin,” you say.  “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.” 

He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks.  When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth. 

“Jeongin,” you say again.  “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”

He chokes on the noodles.  It gets ugly quick.  You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off.  He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.     

“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy.  He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face.   Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers.  He rubs his chest while drinking.

You purse your lips, watching him.  His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high.  He really is ridiculously handsome.  And those hands.  You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers.  If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.

“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”

He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles.  It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand.  He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh. 

“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says. 

“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head.  “Sorry, what’s confusing?”

“Um.”  He looks at you in bewilderment.  “The part where you are asking me it?” 

“Oh.”  A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest.  It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face. 

You lower your gaze.  His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you.  You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other. 

“Well,” you say, slowly.  You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”

When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.   

“Sort of…” he says, looking more confused by the second.  “Did you… sort of… squirt?”

You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words.  Why did this seem like a good idea again?  You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend.  Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs.  His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail. 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it.  “Come on, it’s fine.  Stop hiding.” 

He reaches across the counter for you.  You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again.  He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip.  You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes. 

“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet.  “Crazy girl!  Ask me again.” 

“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.

He snorts.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”

“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head.  You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress.  “I’m sorry I asked.  It’s just that…”

“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off. 

“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.” 

“Ohhh.”  He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Were you… with… someone?”

“Mhm.”  You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak.  “I had a date.  I planned the whole thing out.  You know me, I like a plan.”  You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong.  You close your eyes and sigh.  “Ugh.  It was going well so I brought him back to my place.  Things got heated.  He said he was really good at… doing that… I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it.  I think I just… thought about it too much.  You know me!  I like a plan!  That wasn’t the plan!  Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t… when he couldn’t make me… ugh.”  You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop.  “He called me high-strung and left.” 

You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction.  His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad.  Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match. 

You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.

“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say.  “He sucked.” 

“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse.  “He said that?  Pffft—” 

You are glad you came to him.  Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything.  That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh. 

Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing.  You are smiling now but your gaze stays low.  You trace circles on the counter. 

“I know he… he was just embarrassed too.  He was rude to me, but… he wasn’t totally wrong.”

“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head.  “No, no, no—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist.  You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt.  “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I… I am a little… um, overly thoughtful at times.  I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment.  It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.”  You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter.  “Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice.  That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”

You smile at him. 

He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Okay.  Um.” 

“Soooo… have you?” 

The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside.  He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour.  You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up.  Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice.  Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply. 

“Yes,” he says.  “I have.” 

Oh.

The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality.  You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them.  It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work. 

You cross your legs.  He notices. 

“Would you mind showing me?” you ask. 

“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face.  “Showing you?” 

“Yes,” you say.  You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued.  “Not like that!” 

He jumps in surprise. 

“Oh my god.”  You put your hands over your face again.  “I meant… abstractly.  Draw it.  Or tell me.  I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”

His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again.   Your mortification works wonders on his dimples. 

“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head. 

“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage. 

His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows.  You smile, chagrined and apologetic.  “It was a stupid question in the first place.  I’m really embarrassed.” 

“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand.  “You can tell me anything.  I was just… surprised.”

“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again. 

When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs.  He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you.  After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies.  You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away. 

“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand. 

“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation.  “Am I about to regret so many things?”

“What?  No.  When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured. 

You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt.  It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time. 

Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh.  He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual.  He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers.  His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again. 

“Come on,” he says.  “Sit.  I’ll, um, show you.”

“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap.  “Yang Jeongin, are you… about to defile that pillow?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly.  “We’re gonna make it squirt.”

“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human…”

“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”

“Aha, I’m sorry!”  You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face.   When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically.  “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words.  “Please help me.  I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”

He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans.  He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders.  Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival.  You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other.   He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth. 

When it is over, you lay there, panting.  He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders.   Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face.  He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years.  It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips.  You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.

He takes a slow, deep breath. 

“That man was crazy,” he says.  His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper.  “You’re perfect.  He just didn’t care about getting to know you.  And that sucks for him because you—”  His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound.  The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze.  “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out.  Any man would be lucky to be with you.” 

“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say? 

He meets your gaze.  His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you.  Eventually, he laughs.  He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight.  You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses. 

“Right,” he says.  “The, uh, the pillow.  I, um…”

It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively.  But you no longer care about that.  The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space.  When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him.  Like this.  Right now. 

He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him.  You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise. 

You turn his hand over.  He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong.  You measure it against your own.  Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers.  You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Oh.”

You laugh.  He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together.  Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing.  You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip. 

“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth. 

You nod.  Those butterflies are wild inside you.  You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard. 

He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him.  He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle.  He smiles too, the kiss lingering.  Your whole arm tingles even when he stops.  He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard. 

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle.   “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains.  “Just lay there.  Don’t move.  Don’t think.  Let me take care of you.”  He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart.  He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours.  Your breath catches.   “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.

You trust him more than anyone.  You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story.  You ran to him before anyone else.  You always seek him out first.

You know you are safe in his hands. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say.  You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now.  With him.  “I’m yours.”

“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep.   He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw.  When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue.  It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking.  He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress.  You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.  

He has not even undone a single button. 

“Whatever I want,” he repeats.  “That’s a big offer.” 

His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt.  He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs.  You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core.  Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it. 

“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this… nothing extreme… just you like this… just us together…”

Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs.  You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier.  When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down. 

You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off.  He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be.  Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily. 

“Jeongin,” you gasp. 

“You taste like heaven,” is his reply. 

It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing.  You feel like you could float away. 

You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands.  He really can do anything with you.  It does not scare you one bit.  You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side.  You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up. 

“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs.  “Just feel, okay?” 

“Mmm,” is your only reply. 

You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension.  By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion.  He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive.  It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch. 

“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic. 

You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly.  By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself.  He adds another finger and your body tightens around him.  Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation. 

“Oh, Jeongin,” you say.  His name is all you say for another minute.  It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling.  You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers.  You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching.  Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free. 

“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand.  “Should’ve put a towel down after all.” 

You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets.   You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all.  In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself. 

You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand.  It makes you laugh, giddy. 

Your arms finally drop.  Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up.  He is smiling when you climb into his lap.  He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth. 

You open your mouth too.  You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly. 

“I want something more,” you say. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you.  “I’m yours.” 

He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality.  There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together.   Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard. 

His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again.   It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle.  He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm. 

“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him.  It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together. 

He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips.  You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling. 

“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases.  “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.” 

“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair.  “I might need another one.  Just to be sure.” 

“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely.  “Good idea.  Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner.  Then we better come back here and try again.”

“Just to be sure,” you say. 

“Just to be sure,” he agrees. 

You are already smiling when he kisses you. 

You have never been more sure about anything in your life. 

[senascoop]

SENA’S FAVOURITES ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 TAG GAME

Ꮺ by @iovestuck and I might've added-edited some questions to my liking. all of these answers are genuine and not with the bias of some of them being my moots. also, extremely sorry if I didn't add you on here. most of them are nsfw so... minors please do not interact. (💌)

001. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE FANFICS?

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER — @i2sunric

i already yapped a lot when I first read her fic but this was personally really really cute to read and I loved heeseung’s and the reader’s bickering a lot.

THE PERFECT COPY — @florestalio

if this fanfic was a person I'd date them lol. this was something new and easily secured a seat in my favs.

STILL INTO YOU — @i2sunric

another one of casey’s work that I love a lot.

COULD I BE MORE OBVIOUS? — @rkvriki

this was written like a year ago and is still really good. especially the way it actually captured the “rich ceo husband” vibes.

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM — @heechwe

what were you thinking when you wrote that lexi? i couldn't find a single bad thing about the fic when i first read it and ngl it still remains as one of my fav.

FIXED COMFORT — @paarksunghoon

coming back to read this after a bad day and this never fails to bring a smile on my face even if I've already re-read this a lot of times.

002. FANFICS YOU'VE READ RECENTLY?

haven't read much lately but this has to be my list — heehoon jerking off together while thinking of the reader. part one, part two not sure if there's more parts, sharing = caring , and then this mind-blowing fic by casey, heavenly , i personally found this one cute, and then I've read this smtg about toxic situationship heeseung, then this one from mochiwonz which made me laugh, this from yuvany, reader is mean in this one but it's good, little lamb ... I have more but I can't exactly add all of them here—so if you're looking for fic recs, you should check @senascoooop

003. WHAT FANFICS DO YOU THINK SHOULD GET MORE RECOGNITION?

PUPPY ANTICS — @florestalio

I always re-read this because well... no reason-just the descriptions and the scene (though I hate angel for cutting it short...)

YOU’RE LOSING ME — @i2sunric

y'all are missing out on a lot of good stuff if you haven't read this angsty angst fic.

CORPSE BRIDE — @yuvany

start to end-just perfection.

BEWITCHED — @p4ranormaluv

to describe this fic in one word would be #wtfdidijustread? In a good way ofc. this deserves way more notes than it has right now.

TIL DEATH DO US PART — sena

TIED UP IN YOU — sena

self promo lol but I actually like these two of my works and they might as well be my best ones till now.

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS — @flwrstqr

a really fun fic to read, especially with the way both the reader and heeseung’s goal was definitely not to fall in love... but the two anyways did so.

VENOM — @gyuuberryy

the tension in this one and half way transformation of jay was just wowwww.

HORROR — @starryjake

the smut was rather really... cute alongside the ending...

666 — @simpjaes

a big fan of dark fics. and this was absolutely flawless!!

Not really a fanfic but rather sfw niki audio by @vanesycho part one, part two, part three, part four. I usually listen to these when I'm feeling down or can't fall asleep.

004. FAVOURITE AUTHORS?

all of my moots ofc lol but other than that ,

@i2sunric — all of her fics are hits and i personally really really really love them.

@florestalio — first found out about her through the fic “human or not” and I liked it from the go. and nevertheless-even if it's been a little time, I think we match the freak nonetheless.

@yuvany — she was in my favs the second i read corpse bride. then there's miss ugly duckling and her recent jay fic... absolutely amazing.

@p4ranormaluv — do I even need to have a reason for her to be here? she's really talented with the way she writes. Though I hope she's enjoying her break <3

@heechwe — every time you think someone can't get more sweet... lexi replies. even her fics are chefs kiss.

@gyuuberryy — she's my hype girl (ofc I'll add her on here and also bcz her fics are a big mwahh)

@mochiwonz — we aren't moots or anything but her works (smaus) randomly came in my for you page and i actually enjoyed a lot of them (so I'm adding her here too)

@paarksunghoon — every time a hard thought of hers comes into my for you-i know my evening's not gonna be so boring. y’all should read her fixed comfort and you plus me fic. 100% recommended.

@starryjake — another author who's also really good at making hard thoughts and fics :)

005. WHICH AUTHOR/READER DO YOU ADMIRE/ADORE THE MOST AND WHY?

all of my readers and moots ^^

but aside from them, i admire casey (i2sunric) & jazmine (p4ranormaluv) a lot and sort of started to write after reading their works <3

now I adore a lot of authors and readers but angel (florestalio) and ady (gyuuberry) have a special place in my heart. and I've actually gotten used to seeing some frequent readers which I absolutely notice and adore but the loud ones so far would be @zyvlxqht @flowerwinds (thank you so much for showing nothing other than love to me and my works) 🫶🏻💗

NOTE FROM SENA , i don't really read a lot which might explain why I don't have some more popular fics or authors in the recs. I'm also very sorry if I've forgotten someone (totally not intentional) this was really fun to make...thank you rain (iovestuck) you're another sweetie I found on blr :)

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 tagging anyone who wants to join

[fluff-n-cookies]

So I was watching Hazbin Hotel (which is streaming on prime video) and I was thinking how hilarious it would be if the pro heroes Fatgum, Aizawa, Mirko, (or Hawks) had a S/O who has a quirk like Nifty (which by the way, is my favorite character in Hazbin hotel😅) she is kindhearted, but there are times that she says messed up shit to freak out the heroes and the LOV love her for it🤣

Guess who's back! I was on break for writing my book, so sorry for the delay. and once again, I don't do romance but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. also, this is so short, I'm so sorry, I don't really do senarios for this one reason.

for my poor boy fatgum, it's gotten to the point where he has to keep you on a leash!

but he's actually quite indifferent to it, rather opting to let you let hell loose on whomever you want to.

sometimes he does get a tad bit fed up with your antics but at the end of the day, you're one of his favorite people ever. not because you're useful or powerful, it's just that he holds you dear for being who you are.

a monster.

y'know, at first Aizawa used to actually think you were high on coffee and monster energy so he was actually quite suprised when he learned that... you're just like that.

but no seriously, he had you take multiple drug tests to be sure, lord knows what's in your veins.

but as long as you can shut up when he wants to sleep, he acutally quite likes you.

as a primarily night patroling hero, it's nice to see someone with so much energy and kindness.

in the end, he quite likes you, he probably kill for you.

NO BECUASE SHE ACTUALLY HAS THE POWER TO KEEP UP WIHT YOU SSTOOOOP.

chases you around town when you try and make a run for it

hypes you up whenever you get excited

MATCHES YOUR FREAK LIEK THE GODDESS SHE IS

ha sand will again kick someone to the moon if the DARE judge you.

he is actually a mix of Fatgum and miruko.

while he does indulge in your little freaky stunts he also known when to be professional and act differently.

and he will always introduce you as "my favorite weirdo."

he's just happy to be with you.

takes you out on late night fly's whenever you get that burst of energy during the night.

sweet bird boy.

BONUS! LOV!

has kidnapped you 8 times now with the sole purpose of recruiting you to the LOV!!!

they genuinely think you're a villain (maybe you are!) and that you're secretly on their side and are playing around with the hero's just because.

no seriously, try and tell them that you're not a villain they say something like "yeeeeahhh, sureeee. *wink* *wink*"

but they actually really enjoy you're company, you're invited on their weekly schemes and they always hope that you'll come.

Toga loves you the most but the others really like you because you always think a way to irk their most hated hero's.

[urlocaloptimist]

Telemachus glances over at Y/n as they walk together, and the young man notices the contrast between them. She was stunningly beautiful and he was rather plain looking. But nonetheless, he always enjoyed her company. He smiled as he looked at her, his gaze lingering slightly longer than usual. He tried not to stare at the way the setting sun caught in her hair, and he pushed down the feeling of admiration that stirred within his chest. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to having her around, though he couldn't deny that he enjoyed her company. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever other men would look her way. But he quickly reminded himself that he had no claim over her; she was free to speak to whoever she wanted. Besides, she seemed utterly oblivious to all of the attention she received... As Telemachus continued walking beside y/n, his thoughts began to turn to the idea of marrying her. He'd never once considered such a thing before, but he couldn't deny that the thought appealed to him greatly. He'd never loved anyone quite like he loved her, and the idea of spending the rest of his life with her seemed like a dream come true.

But he quickly shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that marriage was a serious matter, not just something to be thought of lightly. Besides, he wasn't even sure if y/n reciprocated his feelings. Despite his attempts to push the thought away, Telemachus couldn't shake the idea. He found himself stealing glances at her, his heart racing each time she smiled at him. He was tempted to tell her how he felt, but he wasn't sure how she would react. Would she laugh in his face? Or worse, would she simply see him as a friend and nothing more? 

As they walked, he couldn't stop himself from imagining what their life together might be like. He pictured them walking hand in hand on the beach, or dancing under the stars. He saw himself waking up beside her every morning, watching her brush her hair and dress in the morning light. He could practically see the children they would have together, with her striking good looks and his intelligence. He knew it was foolish to get his hopes up like this, but he couldn't help it. Every moment he spent with her only made him more certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to speak. "Y/n, I need to ask you something.", "Go on," I tell him, He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His heart was racing and he felt like he might be sick. "I wanted to know if... if you might have a crush on me?" he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly.

I worried for a moment that someone who knew of my feelings told him so I asked "Did someone tell you that" Slightly panicked, "No, not at all. It's just... I've noticed a few things," Telemachus stuttered, his hands fidgeting nervously. "And I wondered if maybe you felt something for me?", maybe it would be best to just be honest with him, who knows, he might feel the same, "I...I do, I'm sorry, I understand if you don't feel the same" I couldn't help myself from hoping, Telemachus was taken aback by her response, his heart swelling with happiness. He hadn't expected her to feel the same way. "No, no, I do," he said quickly. "More than you know." That was a surprise to me, a very good surprise. He stepped forward, taking both of her hands in his own. "I've... I've never felt this way about anyone before," he admitted. "You're beautiful and smart, and funny, and I just can't imagine my life without you. I know we've only known each other for a month but... I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was a reflection of his own feelings. "Y/n, will you... will you marry me?", "Yes," I tell him full of excitement. A huge smile broke out across Telemachus's face, his heart feeling like it might explode from happiness. He couldn't believe that she had said yes. He wrapped her in a tight embrace, pulling her close to him. "I can't believe this is real. I never thought you'd say yes," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

(Timeskip)

Telemachus could feel his heart racing in his chest as he stood in the throne room, holding Y/n's hand in his own. They were standing before his parents, King Odysseus and Queen Penelope, both of whom were eyeing them curiously. Odysseus looked pleased with his son, with a hint of a smile on his face, but Penelope was studying Y/n carefully, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Father, Mother," Telemachus began, struggling to keep his voice steady. "There's something I need to tell you." Odysseus nodded, gesturing for his son to continue.

"Y/n and I... we've decided we want to get married." He held his breath, waiting for his parents' reaction. Odysseus's smile widened, but Penelope's expression remained impassive. For a moment, the room was silent. But then Odysseus spoke up. "This is splendid news, my boy," he said, his voice filled with pride and approval. He leaned back in his chair, still with a smile on his face. Penelope, however, was still quiet, her gaze fixed on y/n. Telemachus could feel his palms growing sweaty, his heart still racing in his chest. He knew his mother was a tough woman, and he was terrified that she would outright reject y/n as her daughter-in-law. "Mother... please, say something," Telemachus spoke up, his voice pleading. Penelope was silent for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. But then, slowly, a smile began to form on her lips. Telemachus let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over him. "Very well," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "You have my blessing."

Odysseus clapped his hands together, still smiling widely. "A wedding is certainly in order then!" he exclaimed, looking almost gleeful. "We must make the preparations at once." Thus begins the chaotic planning and preparation that comes with a royal wedding in Ithaca, but it will all be worth it.

[osachiyo]

"𝓐𝓶 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯?" ༉‧₊˚.

↺ includes : dazai osamu & chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

↺ content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), threesome, double penetration, facefucking, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral (m &f recieving), hairpulling, dumbification etc

↺ synopsis : you had one too many drinks at a bar after getting dumped by your ex boyfriend on your birthday, and end up fucking the two most dangerous men you have ever met

↺ w.c : 2.7k+ words of absolute filth

↺ author's note : Ik I said this will be posted on the 29th but I kindaaa finished early...I honestly thought dazai & fyodor would win in the poll but I'm pleasantly surprised that chuuya won. Happy reading & I hope y'all enjoy <3 ps. this is supposed to be a bday fic for someone but I unfortunately could not find the ask so whoever you are, happy early b'day!

You squealed when Dazai parted your shaky thighs, licking his lips at your soaked lacy panties. "oh, bella, we barely even touched you and you're already dripping down there? naughty girl.." his voice dropped an octave, making you shiver. "quit yappin' and get to work, shitty dazai," Chuuya scoffed from behind you, gloved fingers pinching and pulling at your swollen nipples, coaxing little whines and moans from you. "you are just jealous that I'm the one about to devour her right now," the bandaged man shrugged, but still complying nonetheless. His fingers hooked under your panties and swiftly pulled them down, breath hitching as he watched webs of your sticky arousal cling to the thin fabric. Chuuya noticed that your attention was on Dazai and he wasn't having that. He turned your face to the side and smashed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as Dazai nibbled on the insides of your thighs. Just how did you get stuck between these two unbelievably attractive men?

...You sighed, slamming your shot of Tequila down, the alcohol burning in your throat. "And he just broke up with me like that! On my fucking birthday too! What the fuck?" Your friend only patted your back, frowning, "girl, I knew he was no good from day one. let's just forget about him for now, yeah? try to enjoy tonight?" You nodded, a frown etched on your face. "Yeah, I know...but I really loved him, y'know? Even though he was terrible in bed," you giggled, nudging your friend's arm playfully. "How about we get you some real action tonight?" She wiggled her eyebrows, both of you chuckling. "Who should I go for?" You scanned the bar, looking for your partner for the night when your eyes land on Chuuya. The ginger haired man was at a corner, sipping away at his expensive drink, target locked. You touched your makeup up a bit before strutting towards him, giving him your best doe eyes when he looks up at you, "You here alone?" He smirked, "No, I'm here with some... colleagues. What about you, pretty girl?" You took a seat beside him, grinning as he poured you a glass of the 20 something grand drink, "I'm here with my friend, We're here to celebrate my birthday." He handed you the glass, "Oh, happy birthday. how's your night goin' so far?" You sipped on the drink, scrunching your face at the bitter taste of the alcohol, "Well...not to spill my life story or anything, but I got dumped today," he frowned, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder, "Sorry 'bout that, hon. Must've been an ass to do that on you birthday." You laughed, staring in his greyish blue eyes, "Yeah.." he leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips, you could almost taste the 'aged monopole' on his lips—

 "chuuuuuuuyaaa~" Dazai interrupted you both with his sing-song voice, making you both jump. "What the hell are you doing here?" Chuuya gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed. You turned around to lock eyes with chocolate brown ones; oh, he was pretty. You could see a smirk splayed on his lips, winking at you before looking at Chuuya. "I thought I smelled a dog around here, and would you look at that? It's my dear ex-partner Chuuya!" The said man swung at Dazai, landing a punch on his stomach. "Oumph— I was wondering what you were doing with such a pretty woman," he said, taking your hand in his, kissing the back of it. "May I have the honour of knowing this pretty lady's name?" You giggled, "Of course, it's—" Chuuya cut you off by snatching your hand away, glaring daggers at Dazai. "Get the hell out of here, mackerel," Chuuya groaned. "This pretty lady has been through a breakup tonight, on her birthday, and I'm sure she doesn't need you annoying her to death too." Dazai only pouted, "Or are you just afraid that she'd leave you because of me, hmm?" He looked at you, smiling. "Trust me, baby. I can do much better than this malnourished ginger." You could see Chuuya's right eye twitch. "You really think so?" The brunette man leaned closer, towering over the both of you. "I know so." "Then let's fucking prove it."

...Everything after that was a blur to you. You didn't remember when you left the bar with them or when you entered the hotel. All you knew was that it felt so hot. It felt so hot when Chuuya pressed open-mouthed kisses on your nape and behind your ears, all while Dazai made himself comfortable between your spread legs. He shoved your panties in his pocket for later use, his tongue darting out to kitten lick at your puffy clit. He could feel your pussy throbbing on his tongue, clearly wanting more of his touch. Chuuya pushed the straps of your tight black dress down your shoulders, massaging your plump breasts while kissing you deeply. "Oh, you taste fucking divine," Dazai hummed, snickering when you clenched down on his tongue from the praise. "You like that, birthday girl? like it when I praise you?" You could only moan, nodding your head. The ginger man behind you flipped you over so that you were on your stomach, ass pressing against Dazai's face, and he moaned, calloused fingers spreading your cheeks apart as he slurped your juices up. Your cheek was smushed against Chuuya's dress pants, drooling on the expensive fabric. You could see the prominent bulge on his crotch, just begging to be touched. "Put that pretty mouth to use, darl'," he whispered, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxer's down, his cock finally springing free and slapping against his stomach. Your mouth watered; it was so pretty. Reasonable sized with a girth promised to make you see stars. The tip was flushed pink, precum pearling at his slit. You picked the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the large vein, making him hiss. He grabbed the back of your head, tapping his cock on your warm cheek, "Open up, hon." You happily obliged, sticking your tongue out for him to shove his shaft down your throat, making you slightly gag as tears prick your eyes. You gasped when Dazai pushed two slim fingers into your hole, your insides sucking them in eagerly. "There we go, sweet girl. Taking my fingers so nicely~" You cleched down on him at the praise, moaning around the fat cock in your mouth. The red-head shivered at the vibrations from your mouth. Tipping his head back slightly, fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you start bobbing your head up and down. It was messy; webs of his precum and your saliva was dripping down your chin, your mascara running down your puffy cheeks as you tried your best to breathe through your nose. Dazai scoffed when Chuuya smirked at him, successful in stealing your attention. He blew on your clit, making you jump. You tried to look back at him but Chuuya's grip was firm, patting your head softly before doing an experimental thrust in your mouth, tip of his cock nudging against the back of your throat. On the other hand, Dazai was getting lost in your cunt; skilled tongue swirling over your swollen clit, fingers curling against your g-spot, moaning into your pussy when you clenched particularly hard. Chuuya was now thrusting up into your warm mouth eagerly, holding your head down while muttering out small curses. He loved the way your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming feeling of Dazai eating your cunt like the best meal he's ever had while Chuuya fucked your throat 'till it burned, your lipstick staining his cock.

You jolted forward when a lubed finger pushed into your other hole, the feeling entirely foreign to you. Dazai's warm hand smoothed over your ass, giving it a playful smack, "Relax, pretty. You are gonna take the both of us, aren't you?" Your eyes widened, the both of them inside..at the same time— could you even handle it?

Chuuya patted your cheek softly, turning your attention to him, "You don't have to if you don't want to, we won't force you into anything." Your heart fluttered at his caring nature, hearts practically swimming in your pupils. You pulled your mouth off of Chuuya's cock, making him hiss. " 's okay.. I can take it," you whispered, making Dazai smirk devilishly, "that's my girl."

They switched places now; Chuuya between your pretty legs while Dazai eagerly thrusted up into your welcoming mouth, slobbering all over his cock. Your jaw was hurting from how hard he was shoving himself in and out, back arching like a cat's when Chuuya's long fingers brush against that one spot inside your walls. His tongue swirled around your puckered hole, making you squeal and try to kick your legs and fail, his hands firmly gripping them, "Behave," he growled into your cunt, making Dazai snicker. "How's she taste?" Dazai grinned, hissing when your tongue swipes over his slit. "Fucking amazing," Chuuya's eyes slightly rolled back, going drunk from your addictive taste on his tongue. Dazai's thrusts sped up, now hitting the back of your throat as you creamed all over Chuuya's face. He was glad your back was turned to him so you couldn't see him cumming in his pants like a pathetic teenager. "Came in your pants already?" Dazai laughed, cutting himself off with a groan as he holds your head down, cumming down your throat.

Dazai picked your already tired body up, placing you on his lap, telling you how good you did for them while kissing your tears away. "Now, get ready for the real thing," he smirked, slapping the tip on your clit before lining his cock up with your entrance. "Hope you're ready, princess," Chuuya uttered from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, pushing your hair out of the way to kiss and nibble on your marked neck as Dazai pushed into you with a wet 'pop!' Your jaw slacking as he buried himself to the hilt, pressing his forehead against yours as he panted out little praises. Your body was tense in Dazai's hold, clenching down on his cock when his fingers found your clit, trying to get you to relax and it worked as you went limp in his arms. Chuuya on the otherhand, was busy lathering lube all over his cock, pumping it a few times in his first before lining it up with your puckered hole. Slowly but surely pushing in, focused on how you moan into Dazai's lips, the smug brunnete swallowing your moans. "Does it hurt, doll?" He grunted, grabbing your hips for stability as he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in. "Hurts— hurts so good.." you slurred, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of both of them inside you. His cock pushed fully past the tight ring of muscle, balls touching your ass while he shuddered, fingers digging into the plush of your hips so tightly that you're sure it'll leave bruises tomorrow. But you didn't care, not when you were stuffed full by these two men you had just met, creaming and clenching on their cocks. "God, she's clenching so damn hard. Aren't you, baby?" The man in front of you panted, fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, pinching the small bud when you whine and whimper for them. Chuuya turned your head around to face him, capturing your parted lips for a sweet kiss, rolling his hips experimentally and groaning when you tighten even further.

Your makeup had been completely ruined by the time they were finally starting to thrust in and out of you, the two of them perfectly synchronized with each other, as if they could read the other person's mind. Every time one of them pulled out, the other pushed in and vice versa. Your mouth formed an 'o' shape, clawing at Dazai's shirt as they worked you to your orgasm. Your brain couldn't function properly anymore, filtering out all thoughts besides the two men ravaging you right now, stretching out your holes and all you could do was lay there and sob out their names. "Oh shiit— did we fuck her stupid already?" Chuuya questioned, breathy moans and grunts leaving his swollen lips that were stained with your lipstick like his cock. "Sure looks like it, ah fuuck—" Dazai moaned, their rhythm slowly falling apart as their orgasm approached. " 'm gunna—" you couldn't even finish your sentence before squrting all over their cocks, head lolling back on Chuuya's shoulder as you twitched from the overstimulation. Dazai's hips stilled suddenly, shooting his seed deep inside of you, some of it dribbling out as he pulls out, some of it spurting on your cunt, coating your pussy lips in his release. Chuuya's arms hooked under your knees, bringing you to his chest as you screamed his name, tears flowing out of your puffy eyes like jewels. "Cumming— fuck!" He growled, slim hips pressed against your plump ass while he flooded your insides with his cum.

Your heavy eyelids widened when Chuuya lifted you up, now facing him. "What're you—" you gasped when you felt his cock prodding at your cunt this time, ready to fuck you to oblivion. Dazai gripped your hair from behind, tugging on it to make eye contact with you, "You didn't think we were done from just that, did you?" You whimpered at his low tone of voice, perfectly manicured nails digging into Chuuya's shoulders as he pushes into you again, your cunt fucked raw and sore. Bandaged hands spread your cheeks apart, groaning at the lewd view of his ex-partners cum flowing out of your hole. " 's too mph— much!" You babbled, wincing at Dazai pulled at your hair and landed a swift smack on your ass. "You can take it, honey," he bit his lip, slipping into your other hole with a loud groan, your eyes crossing at the mind-numbing stimulation.

"Shiiit— pussy grippin' me so tight," Chuuya moaned, throwing his head back as he thrusted into you vigorously. The three of you were rendered a drooling, panting mess; overstimulated and shaking as they bend and mold your body to their desire, turning you into their personal cocksleeve for the night and you loved it. Dazai's fingers found your nipples, pinching and pulling and the hardened buds, making you cry out even louder for them, slapping one of the soft mounds before flicking at your nipples again.

You felt something in your lower stomach turning, tightening as they thrusted in and out of your oversensitive cunt. Chuuya's hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, not gripping tight but hard enough to make you feel breathless and dizzy. Everything went white, you could hear ringing in your ears as you gushed all over them, your juices covering Chuuya's abdomen and dripping down his cock. A creamy ring had formed around the base of his cock, hands reaching everywhere they could before his hips stopped, his semen gushing into your walls and staining them white. Dazai came shortly after, burying his face into your neck as his cum filled your gooey insides.

They both pulled out before Dazai laid you on your back gently, softly shushing your sobs as you clung onto him, burying your face in his chest. His hand was splayed on your back, rubbing random shapes on your sensitive skin. "Shh, my pretty girl. Did so well for us, hm?" He whispered, kissing the crown of your head while Chuuya got up to get a washcloth and a glass of water. He handed you the glass of water and some pills, "birth pills," he clarified, looking away bashfully while Dazai snickered. You didn't even realize how dry your throat was until drinking the cold water, offering your burning throat some relief. "I should probably lea—" you got cut off by Dazai pulling you back into his arms burying his face into your soft chest, "Why not stay? I'm not the type of guy to let a pretty lady go home alone at 3 am after having such an intimate moment." Chuuya huffed and nodded in agreement, laying next to you before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Dazai pouted, scooting closer and shoving Chuuya's arm off of you. "A dog should know it's place, you should honestly go sleep on the floor," Dazai joked. "HAAH?!"

©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡

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[tokkiwrites]

summary: you are staying with your aunt this summer. she loves talking you to places only she enjoys, so when your night together was becoming increasingly irritating, a handsome stranger shows you that jazz clubs aren't so bad.

tags: pwp, old man logan, human logan, age gap, mention of divorce, afab reader, sex with a stranger, sex in a public space, p in v unprotected (that's spooky!! don't do it), creampie, dirty talk, a few pet names, sir kink, a little breeding kink (for like a line).

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! I'm kicking this off with a logan fic because i can't be stopped. this is around 3.1k words, so i hope you enjoy it. omg, my 2nd kinktober guys, yeppeee. IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS NO U DIDN'T

The people here don’t rush—they settle. its something you had to learn the hard way, now that your parents left you with your aunt for the summer. She enjoyed the finer things in life, like pearls that had to sit perfectly, right above her clavicle, aged whiskey with no ice in it, and jazz clubs.

"Oh, I wish I grew up during those times... the roaring twenties. Everything was much more sophisticated andㅡ what's that word..? oh, polished." she went on. "Yeah, and more racist." you perk up. "Young lady! Your dad left you with me so you can straighten your act up. Now you speak when I tell you to." her voice was stern.

"Oh, now I truly feel like I'm in the 1920s, next up, my lobotomy!" you say with a strained smile whilst doing the infamous 'jazz hands'. By the time you finish, your aunt is red in the face, and it wasn't from the absurd ammount of rouge she had on. You clear out your throat and get up from the table. "I'll go use the washroom. Sorryㅡ" the woman scoffs as you turn around and leave "We'll talk about this home."

holding in your giggles, you swiftly make your way to the bathroom, finally letting go of the laughs you were keeping down as you close the door behind you. you didn’t hate your aunt, you hated that she tried to be something she wasn't; those pearls were not 'swanky originals' as she would say when people asked, but a $7 gift from her cheating, ex-husband. then again, maybe that why she felt the need to create this persona when others are around. and maybe that's why your parents sent you away from home, as to not hear about their inevitable divorce. it's not like you were a child. you were their child, but an adult nonetheless. alas, you were 22, stuck in a jazz club with your divorcee aunt, laughing all on your own.

well, almost.

"What's so funny, young lady?" what. the. fuck. why is there a man in the woman’s bathroom? and why is he talking to you? "Excuse me, old man, this is theㅡ" you raise your voice, and you turn around to face him but the words get stuck in your throat as you lay eyes on him. he was stunning, incredibly handsomeㅡ to say the least. His dark hair, streaked with the slightest touch of silver at the temples, was slicked back with utmost precision. A neatly trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, the salt-and-pepper strands giving him a distinguished air, as if life had brushed him with just the right amount of experience without taking away any of his vitality. His eyes, a deep, knowing hue, carried the weight of someone who had seen the world, yet still found wonder in it.

"Lady? Hey, 'r you okay?" he pulls you out of your trance. "What, oh- I, yeah! What are you doing in the ladies room?" you finally speak up again and he raises one of his brows before questioning you again. "You sure? 'm pretty positive the door distinctly said 'mens room' then againㅡ" he point to the sign printed on the door "I'm just an old man, so you might be right." oh, how you regret calling him that. even though he was oldㅡ not the old you meant when you said it. with your face scrunched up you turn around and read the sign.

fuck.

"What's it say, sweetheart?" he prys as you let out a defeated sigh. "mens room.." you reply. "what's that? sorry, I'm so old I can barely hear ya." you ball up your fists in embarrassment and say it louder. "mens room."

"Yeah...mens room." you can hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer from behind you. His voice was low, teasing, the kind that sent shivers down your spine despite your frustration. You could feel him standing behind you now, the warmth of his presence far too close for comfort. His breath brushed against the back of your neck, and you bit down on your lip to suppress the strange rush of nerves rising in your chest.

"Looks like you wandered in here by mistake," he said, voice smooth and almost amused. "But I won't hold it against you. Happens to the best of us, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. There it was again, the casual endearment that somehow made your skin prickle. You turned around to face him once more, trying to muster some semblance of composure, though it was nearly impossible with him standing near you. Up close, he was even more disarming, his gaze sharp yet somehow warm, like he was in on some private joke you hadn’t quite caught on to yet.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he cut you off, one corner of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile that sent your pulse racing. "No harm done. Besides, it’s not every day I get to have a conversation this... interesting in a bathroom." he motions his hands around.

"I didn’t mean to call you old. That was... uncalled for."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the air between you. "Don't sweat it. I've been called worse, trust me. Besides, a little gray never hurt anyone, right?" He ran a hand through his hair, almost like he was flaunting it, as if daring you to disagree.

You found yourself at a loss for words again, caught between wanting to melt into the floor and the strange, undeniable attraction pulling you toward him. a little gray never hurt, indeed. "So," he continued, breaking the silence as his gaze roamed over your flustered expression. "What’s a lady like you doing in a men's room anyway? Trying to stir up trouble?"

You rolled your eyes, finally finding your footing again, and crossed your arms over your chest. "I could ask you the same thing, considering you're not exactly rushing me out of here."

"Maybe I’m just enjoying the company," he said, his voice dropping just a bit lower, sending a flutter through your stomach. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you figure out how to get out of this mess." the man takes a step closer. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a small laugh. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he replied, stepping even closer, his voice now barely more than a murmur. "But you're still standing here, aren't you?" his palm now sitting on the small of your back, and it feels like you've been waiting for this your whole life. it was disarming, intoxicating—how effortlessly he touched you, as if he’d always known you, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady the pounding in your chest, but the way he looked at you made it impossible. His eyes, deep and piercing, held you in place, like they were pulling you into some unspoken dance, something wild and unnamed.

"Not saying much now, are you, sweetheart?" he whispered, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers splayed ever so slightly against your back, and you swore you could feel your pulse thrum beneath his touch, like a melody. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to moveㅡ to break away from him this instant, but your feet were rooted to the spot.

"I'mㅡ" you tried to speak but your voice betrayed you. The curve of his mouth shifted into a slow, devilish smile as his hand slid a fraction lower, just above your hip, a silent invitation pulling you nearer.

"See?" His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you. "Maybe you didn’t wander in here by accident after all." he tuts. "Your daddy was right, you do need straightening up, sweet thing."

"Y-You know my dad?" and he can only chuckle. "I don’t, baby," he drawled, "But that little fight you had with your aunt a few minutes ago? Well, it was heard by more ears than you think." You’d thought your quarrel was contained, tucked away in a corner where no one could witness the messy unraveling of your family drama. But apparently, you were wrong—so very wrong.

"I-It wasn't really a fight.." you huff, trying to fight the growing warmth in your core. "Right, you were just being a brat. I got that, too." your eyes find his again, heart plummeting into your chest. "I'm good with brats." god, how wrong it all felt, yet you couldn't find a way. you didn't want a way out. your aunt was waiting, but you were dripping with arousal in the arms of an older man who was a complete strangerㅡ not to forget you were in the bathroom of a bar, where anyone could walk in on you at any moment. but was it so wrong to want what's wrong?

"So...You gonna let me teach you some manners, young lady?" The words hang between you, igniting something you couldn’t name , but you felt it, burning, spreading. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, you didn’t want to care. you felt drawn, tethered to him by something far more primal, more consuming. The risk, the recklessness—it was intoxicating. You couldn’t deny the hunger that twisted in your belly, the way your body leaned into his touch despite the alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of your mind. Maybe you’d always been waiting for something, or someone, to break you out of the mold you were supposed to fit into.

"You're thinking too much, sweetheart," he teases, his voice low and rough, sending warmth coursing through you. "Just let go. You know you want to."

The last piece of resistance crumbles. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to see where this will go, consequences be damned. You want the wildness, the chaos, the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries you've always kept yourself within.

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. "Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches.

"Can you at least...tell me your name? please?" You’re caught in this moment, teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and part of you needs to know who has you under their spell.

"My name’s Logan, sweet thing," he says, the name rolling off his tongue with a rough edge, like it holds more than he’s letting on. His fingers trail lightly along your shoulder and down to your cleavage, the contact making your breath hitch. "But you won’t be needing it for now," he adds. "You'll be calling be sir. Understand?" whatever happens next, you're no longer in control so you nod your head eagerly, but he isn't satisfied. "Speak, girl."

"Yes, sir." you force the words out. The moment you say it, you feel the world tilt, like something has shifted between you, pulling you further into the depths of whatever this is. The man's lips curl into a smile yet again, he reaches behind you and you close your eyes. you hear a faint click and then a soft chuckle. "Let's hope no one gets a hold of the key, wouldn't want anyone to interrupt our time here, unlessㅡ" your cheeks heat up, your thighs now pressed further together. "You'd like us to get caught, huh? Dirty girl." those last words send your head spinning and you swear you could come just from his voice alone. you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, but deep down, you wished someone just walked through that door only to see you splayed out under Logan.

without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Logan groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the sink, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous, baby."

"Thank you, sir." this earns you a tug at the hair, his face right in the crook of your neck. "Say that again, baby." and you do. even if to you he's just a stranger, the need to obey him burns at your insides. you can feel his hard-on rubbing against your ass, so you press up against him making logan hiss. "You getting cocky, miss? Or are you just that excited for an old man to fuck you?"

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your almost see-through dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties that were barely covering anything. His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. Without a warning, you hear the material rip and feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor. "Pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low. this doesn't last long, as you feel his rough palm grab at your face and pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, no. You watch while I fuck you, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly. "Words, baby, words."

"Yes, sir." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough, turning you into a whining messㅡ truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, logan starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns; every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- there we go.." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Logan moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

his hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Logan. "Fuckㅡ sir, please.." you manage. pulling at your hair he starts "What if your sweet aunt walked in just now, huh? What ifㅡ fuck! What if she saw how good you take this cock? Yeah, nice and deep, there ya go, baby, there ya go." while thrusting relentlessly into you, your legs barely holding up anymore.

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies? let people inside this room, let them see your pussy filled with my come- you want that?" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, sir, I'mㅡ"

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, sir!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your walls with white ropes. "God fucking dammit!" you know that you'll be bruised tomorrow.

the bathroom feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Logan watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm beads of come trickling from inside of you, down your thighs. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths. you feel like you are floating.

The sounds of the world fade away, leaving just the echo of your heartbeats. The weight of what just happened presses down on you both, thick and suffocating as you exchange glances through the mirror. Finally, you break the silence. “What do we do now?” The realization sinks in. What's done is done. "We clean you up and pray no one heard anything, baby." Logan laughs reassuringly, sensing the uncertainty in your voice.

maybe jazz clubs nights with your aunt aren't so bad after all.

[mujeans]

MY ONLY LOVE, MY ONLY ONE ✦ LCY

SYNOPSIS ✦ you and anton’s relationship through the years - because maybe not all love has to be young.

“if we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty , let’s get married.”

TAGS ✦ anton x f!reader, one-shot, angst, fluff, non-idol au, yn has mommy issues, slice of life, bffs to lovers, slow-burn

WARNINGS ✦ mentions of drinking at a bar, reader isn't really referred to as y/n or _, just "you" 😭

WC ✦ 4k

PLAYLIST ✦ only by leehi, still into you by paramore, every summertime by niki, toothbrush by dnce, bad by wavetoearth

AUTHOR'S CORNER ✦ was originally meant for heeseung, but i changed it lolz also ik i said i'd post it in a few days but i finished it early and wanted to put it out so i hope u enjoy!

13

snobby, proud, self-centered - these were the words that described anton's first impression of you.

he'd just moved to town, tagging along with his parents to the local mall when his mother stopped in her tracks, causing him to nearly walk into her. he looked at her confusedly when she suddenly gasped, and squealed someone's name, before she practically ran up to another woman, who he'd soon find out to be your own mother.

"guys, this is my old friend from college," she'd told him and his dad. "and this is her daughter," she said as she gestured to you.

you'd been few inches taller than him, so he was intimidated by you and immediately got the impression you were looking down on him. (well, you were, literally.)

"why don't you two kids go to the arcade? here, my daughter has a game card," your mother spoke as she ushered you two away whilst the adults went somewhere else to catch up. anton and you awkwardly stood next to each other as the parents left you two alone.

once they were out of sight, you seemed to deflate; the intimidating aura wiped and replaced by a more relaxed and amicable ‘you’. somehow, you felt more human, and he let out his own steady breath when you smiled and held out your hand for him to shake.

“sorry, my mother can be a lot to handle. you play DDR?”

turns out, you were way more fun when your mother wasn’t around.

16

holding hands was something you two did often.

your friends would often tease you two about it, but neither you nor anton thought much of it. it was completely platonic, right?

but nonetheless, you two were relentlessly asked if you were dating, even when one or the other was in a relationship with someone else. in fact, your closeness had led to your first and most recent boyfriend breaking up with you.

"can you believe it? everyone knows we're literally just friends," you ranted to anton later that night. "so what if we're close? he himself had his own girl best friend - several in fact!"

anton hummed to let you know he was listening, busy working on an assignment that he'd spent far too long procrastinating.

"i mean, how insecure can he be? is it really that unbelievable for a boy and a girl to have a completely platonic relationship?" you paced around his room, not caring whether or not he was listening. you just needed to get the day's frustrations out - and where better than anton's comfy and personalised room?

something about the hanging leaves, band posters, the warm lamp in the corner lighting up the room, it was your favourite place to hide when your mother would be in another one of her moods.

"i'm never going to date again. ugh."

"you sure about that?" anton half-heartedly asked.

"yes. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some guy, then no thanks."

anton turned to you with a smile playing at his lips. he didn't take you seriously at all.

"anton..." you whined. this wasn't funny to you.

"sorry, sorry," he said, but you could still hear the laugh in his voice. instead, he took your hands in his apologetically, the warmth a familiar gesture.

"if you never date again, then i won't either."

"anton, you've never dated."

"well, it's like you said. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some girl, then it's a no for me too."

he stared at you sincerely. you guys knew you both would probably still go on to date other people, but the promise felt real anyway. what with the way he was staring up at you.

"swearing yourself to celibacy for me? how sweet," you relented, sitting down on his bed, your hands still clasped in his.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

using your linked hands to pull him closer, his chair rolled over, knocking against your knees.

"anton, let's make a pact: if we're still both single by the time we're thirty, then let's get married."

18

graduation came faster than anton expected, and he only realises then that he's known you for five years now.

as expected, you and him had taken lots of photos together (wait, when did he get taller than you?), and eventually your families decided to dine together at some fancy restaurant after the ceremony. it a celebration of the two of you leaving high school, and moving onto the next chapter of your lives: university. something you were particularly stressed about.

"why is applying for uni so hard?? i'm just a girl - just accept me!"

anton could empathise with that sentiment - he'd been an exceptional student, yet his lack of curriculars had ended him up on three waitlists, and with one rejection. not to mention how complicated the process was, what with all the different requirements for every university. honestly, he felt like he'd been lied to by all those people telling him not to worry.

looking over at the parents busy in conversation, he noticed that the both of you had finished your meals already.

"can we go? i'm gonna take her out for a drive," he asked them, gesturing to you.

surprised by the sudden plan, you looked to your parents for approval.

"aren't you going to stay for desserts?" your dad asked.

"i'm sure we'll find something sweet on the way," anton replied simply.

"well, i'm okay with it," your dad agreed, looking at anton's parents who nodded back.

you watched him turn to your mother, a silent argument spoken through their eyes. she reluctantly sighs, a sign of surrender, and you cheered on the inside as anton pulled you away and out of the restaurant.

going for drives was something you and anton always did when either was stressed or upset. windows down and music blared as the sky turned an array of colours, it really felt like the movies in moments like this. you sighed contentedly, head propped up on your elbow as you stared outside. the wind combined with ONLY by LeeHi being the only sounds between you and anton.

"ah, i'm not sure if i can do this whole university thing," you confessed your thoughts. "if applying is already this hard, i can't imagine the real thing."

"it won't be this bad. c'mon, we'll be together, right?" anton's voice replied.

"always."

silence engulfed the two of you again.

"i want to do something crazy. something that'll make her mad."

"yeah? any ideas for this crazy plan of yours?"

"hmm... what about..." you trailed off, thinking for a while.

"what about a month-long trip around europe?"

anton's head snapped to you, eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"seriously? she'll actually lose it."

"not that she already hasn't already done so several times before," you grumbled into your elbow. "besides, i'm always sticking to her stupid rules. i just want to do something 'rebellious' before we get thrown back into classes and assignments and homeworks and blah blah blah..."

a pause. then, “let's do it. where do you want to start?"

"really? you'll do it with me?" you perk up, finally looking at him.

"duh," he rolls his eyes, as if you ever leaving him alone was such an unimaginable thought. "let's figure out those visas first though," he added as an afterthought.

19

2 Notifications yn : you free later this week? yn : feels like i haven't seen u in forever

anton sees the notifications later that night, and sighs as he pushes his hair out of his eyes. he takes a quick look at his monthly calendar.

to be truthful, the two of you had been swamped with finals and work this past semester, so you hadn’t been able to hang out as often as you used to.

seeing that the next part of his coursework wasn't due until next saturday, he decided he had just enough time.

anton: what about tmrw? 12pm at café bleu

"i was thinking..." you started. "what if we do another month-long trip this summer? like we did last year.”

anton grunted at the thought.

"honestly, i've stayed up countless nights this sem for this stupid assignment. i wanted to catch up on sleep thus summer.” i don't think i really have the time for another trip.

"oh. that's okay! we're both going back home anyway, so i'll just come over to yours like always."

"sure, if you want to watch me sleep all day."

but the way he said that - it was a clear no. he didn't have the time, not when he was going to spend all summer trying to catch up on missed sleep.

"never mind, then."

the waitress placed your orders in front of you, and the two of you began to eat in terse silence.

looking at him closely, you notice the darkened eyebags, the pale skin, the way he hadn't even bothered to wear a nice outfit. anton had been pretty cold towards you lately, and he felt guilty, but he couldn't help it. stress was a bully everyone was a victim of.

seeing the way your demeanour seemed to shrink, he was hit with a wave of shame and regret, and took hold of your hand.

"hey, remember that show we watched in senior year? it has a prequel movie coming out soon. we should watch it together."

you perked up immediately. "really? when?"

"november, i think."

he frowned when you faltered, but then you said something that completely sent his heart to the ground.

"i can’t. anton, i'm going on a study exchange programme."

19

talking to jake was easy. talking to him was nice.

in the three months since jake arrived from australia, anton and him had quickly become good friends, (although he would never be able to replace you). so of course he's sad that the exchange programme was coming to an end soon, and jake would have to leave for home.

however, that meant you'd be coming back too, and he was far more excited about that. the past three months had felt empty without you, even if you were a bit absent from his life for some time before the programme started.

so anton finds himself at café bleu in the same spot you'd told him about your plans, but this time with jake on the other side.

"we'll stay in touch though, yeah?" jake assured him. "i'll definitely come visit some time, this place is really great."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

"i think you're more looking forward to me leaving though, aye? what with your friend coming back too."

at the mention of you, anton couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. he really did miss you.

"yeah, she's my rock. always there for me - well, except for these past three months. hopefully you'll get to meet her when you visit."

"i'd love to meet the girl you've been talking about this whole time!"

"you'd get along well," anton nodded, imagining the three of you sharing a slice of cake at this very café. "hey, why don't i call her right now, and you can meet her? although it's just online."

jake nodded eagerly, "why not?"

pulling up his phone, anton quickly swiped to the favourites tab on his contacts app, and called you. after just two rings, you pick up.

"hey! what's up?" your voice greets him, bringing an instant smile to his face.

"nothing much, just wanted to introduce you to jake - he's the student who came in your place as part of the exchange programme," he introduced the guy, turning on his camera.

"oh, hi!" he hears you say after he turns the screen to face the other.

"hi! nice to finally meet you. hope australia treated you well,” jake starts smoothly.

"trust me, it has. everyone so nice and welcoming, i just love it here."

"sounds like you've settled in nicely, i'm almost sorry you'll have to pack up and leave again. but hey, you'll be back home and reunited with this guy, right?" jake laughed.

"well... about that."

anton knew something was up - your voice had that same tone as when you dropped the bomb that was you leaving for the next three months. just before you said your next line, anton felt his heart sink again like it did the first time.

"i've decided to transfer here.

"anton, i'm staying in australia."

22

once again, anton finds himself in a graduation gown. but for the first time, you're not at his side.

looking at the photos his mother took of him on her phone, he couldn't help but feel a little upset by the lack of you next to him. for the past nine years, he's never had much solo photos; you were always with him, sharing these moments.

but this time 'round, he's completely alone, and your friendship has devolved to instagram mutuals, reduced to liking each other's posts and reacting to stories. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

surprisingly, your mother still came to watch him graduate, even if he was only ever just her friend's son.

"oh, anton. you've grown so much since i first met you."

"thank you, auntie," he says awkwardly.

"you know, i miss the two of you. my daughter's all the way in another country, so i barely see you anymore..." she trails off in thought. in the past few years since you left, she seemed to soften up in your absence, no doubt missing you despite the strained relationship between the two of you when you left.

"oh! have you seen the photos? she just graduated herself last week," she fished for her phone in her bag, and began to swipe through her camera roll to show him.

"i wish i could've been there, but i'm not sure she would've wanted that. she's lucky her dad attended instead."

anton shakes his head. "not true, i'm sure she would've wanted you there."

but he wasn’t sure. have your feelings about your mother changed? or were you still upset with her? he doesn’t know. he hasn’t known much about you in a long time.

"i guess we'll never know, will we?"

swiping through more photos, anton's eye caught onto a few of them, where you were standing particularly close to another guy.

"auntie, who's this?"

"ah, him? why, that's her boyfriend, of course." she then turned to look at him oddly. "hasn't she told you?"

he frowned, and shook his head. he's a little off put by the fact that you didn't bother telling him, but then again. you two haven't exactly been friends in a very long time.

and just like that, memories of a pact resurface in his head. it was never going to come true, wasn't it? but if you ended up marrying this guy, anton could never bring himself to watch.

the sound of his friends' voices brought him back to reality. "hey, anton! come over here-" and he forced himself to shake off the thoughts, joining the group instead.

24

anton had been learning to live life without you for the past four or five years now. he had a new friend group, a nice job in the city, his own apartment, all without his best friend. it was hard to unlearn all the mannerisms he didn't even realise he had for you, not until he would get home from the grocery and realise he bought two boxes of sushi like you used to share, or when he'd almost bought a second, folding mattress for when you'd come over for a sleepover, or even just holding an extra hair tie or two on his wrist in case you needed one.

and that was all in the past now, he's finally began to move on from mourning the loss of your friendship. he only thinks about you once in a blue moon, and his life feels like it's no longer on pause.

but you were always cruel to him.

"wait, what?"

right when he'd begun to move on, you came back.

anton stared at you in shock; when he heard the doorbell ring that day, he'd never have expected you to be on the other side. an intelligent 'wait, what?' was all he could muster when he finally registered just what, or who he was seeing.

"hi," you say in that familiar voice of yours. and you almost sound out of breath, although its clear you hadn't run there.

he finally lets you in after a moment, and you explain how you're moving back, and starting at a local company. you tell him about life back in australia, the friends and experiences you made. you tell him about the past five years of your life as if it was just any normal day after high school.

as if you hadn't just completely left him on his own, his other half gone with you.

although the conversation is stilted and awkward, and theres a gap between you that feels wider than the distance between australia and home, anton's still glad to see you. it almost feels unreal, and he wouldn't believe any of this was real if he couldn't feel your weight pushing down on the sofa, or the very essence of you in his living room.

you and anton agree to get coffee some time after you've settled back in, and he asks if you need any help.

"yes, please! its like i brought my whole life from australia back with me, what with all the boxes i need to unpack."

and so, leaning against the door frame, anton watches you walk away again, catching himself wondering if it would be the last time he'd see you again in a while. he had to keep reminding himself that you were back for good.

"oh, and me and my boyfriend broke up."

anton sucks in a breath, and slips his hands in his pocket to hide the shaking. he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel - angry? relieved? sorry? anton hasn't known how to feel in years.

"just wanted you to know," you spoke into the air, after you received no response from him.

so with an awkward wave, you leave him once again, with a promise to see each other soon.

27

"happy birthday!" people greet as they enter the bar, giving anton a quick hug.

"thank you," he smiles back. "wow, twenty-seven. i feel so old."

"twenty-seven isn't that old," you tell him, hugging him from behind as a surprise. he chuckles and holds onto your arms clasped around his middle for a bit before letting you go sit across him.

"think about it, we've been friends for longer than we haven't!"

"including those four or five years we barely spoke?" you raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip from your glass.

"shh, what years? we've always been as thick as thieves," anton grins, pinching your cheek.

after you moved back, it didn't take that long to rekindle your previous relationship. somehow, you two picked up right where you left off, like there was never a period in your friendship filled with almost radio silence.

"you two," eunseok sighed with an exasperated but fond tone. "if i didn't know you guys were 'just friends', i would've thought you were dating."

"or married!" sohee shouts from somewhere.

you roll your eyes at your friends and coworkers, the guests. dating allegation were nothing new in your relationship, having suffered from them for over ten years now.

"we have been friends for a while now, huh? fourteen years is pretty crazy."

"i honestly can't remember a time when i didn't know you," anton agrees.

"being 'friends' for longer than you haven't is quite the achievement," wonbin remarks with a knowing look. "personally, i don't have toothbrushes and extra clothes at my house for my friends though."

all this talk of friends and friendship was making your head hurt.

"anton, remember the pact we made at sixteen?"

anton looked at you sharply, knowing exactly what you were referring to, but asking anyway. "no. remind me again?"

with a scoff and a smile, you said, without regard to the fact that everyone was half-listening, "when we promised we'd marry each other by thirty if we were both still single?"

clinks of glass and utensils falling around the two of you, your friends were suddenly more invested in the conversation, not even trying to hide their curiosity.

"you really want to talk about this right now? in front of everyone?" anton murmured, voice low enough just for you to hear.

you stared at him, and then continued.

"well, looks like there's three years left to our promise. three years left to run away from me." that pulled out some laughs.

anton just stared at you with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"well, i haven't run away for these last eleven years since, have i?"

whoops and cheers filled the bar; you yourself were surprised with anton's boldness and honesty. you always did wonder why he barely ever dated, only ever having a few flings here and there.

suddenly, you felt a little flustered by his bold declaration, and the implication that he'll wait out the remaining years.

"i..."

suddenly, anton's face morphed into a smirk as he took another sip from his own glass, eyes still on you.

"what's another three years?"

30

"ah, my mom keeps asking when i'm going to settle down," you whine to anton, sitting in his living room as you two share a late midnight snack.

something about it all feels nostalgic, whining and complaining about your mom to him, sitting in his comfy room (or this time, his apartment), with a vinyl record playing in the background. this is home, you decided.

what you don't tell him is that your mom had been more specific with her words.

(when are you and anton going to get married and settle down?? i want grandkids, you know!)

anton laughs lightly, feeding you another sushi. the whole atmosphere was quite domestic, and you wished you could spend the rest of your life like this; with him.

"some things never change, do they?" he remarks with a fond smile. and your heart melts a little.

(hopefully soon, mama.)

"isn't sushi a little heavy for a midnight snack?"

"well, it's not just any midnight, isn't it?" anton asks.

and he's right. it's actually a special one - the night before your birthday.

looking at the clock, you see that it's almost twelve, and you find yourself thinking back on the past twenty-nine years. anton's in most of the memories, something you weren't particularly bothered about. when you two spent that day at the arcade together, something about it all just felt right.

you've always loved change, always wanted more experiences. but one thing you wanted to stay the same forever, was anton being by your side. when you'd gone to australia, it was a slow realisation that some part of you was missing. only when you reunited with anton did you realise why that was.

the soft beeping noise of a clock brought you back from your thoughts, signalling that it was finally twelve o'clock. that you were finally thirty. hearing shuffling behind you, you turn to look at anton for the annual hug and cheer that made your whole birthday.

but instead, you watched in shock as anton sunk onto one knee, and pulled out a box.

"don't look so surprised, now," he chuckles awkwardly. "this was a long time coming."

"i know... i just. i didn't expect you'd do it as soon as i turned thirty," you laughed. "looks like someone couldn't wait any longer."

"can you blame a man who waited fourteen years?"

you shook your head before anton called our your name, even though he already had your full attention.

"my only love, i don't have to hide my feelings anymore. i love you."

with a deep breath, filled with years and years of longing, he finally asked.

"will you marry me?"

TAGLIST ✦ @yoursyuno @totheseok

[msmk11]

a hunger games fic where there’s tension between reader and haymitch but he feels conflicted because of the age gap i don’t know lots of pining and angst so i can go insane

Drunk on You

Haymitch Abernathy x fem!reader

WC: 4k

CW: Drinking/being drunk; mentions of death and blood; age gap (legal and consensual- reader is 21)

A/n: Thank you for the request!! I'm so sorry this took so long. I have been in a writing rut and also very busy, but I hope you enjoy this! I know I sure did.

You’d been lucky enough to avoid mentoring the first two years after your games- your first year by claiming insanity and the second merely because of the abundance of victors in your district. But the Capitol, and Snow, were ravenous for the return of their Angel- the sweet, innocent girl they painted you to be despite the blood they knew was on your hands.

And while the nightmares of your games were as fresh in your mind as the day they started, you persisted nonetheless. You couldn’t afford to let anyone else die at your hands, even if the cost to you was great. 

So the day of the reaping you stood by Mags’ side- four’s other mentor this year- as you watched kids be chosen to be sent off to their deaths like pigs for slaughter. 

The girl, someone you barely recognized but knew you’d gone to school with, looked strong. Like a potential competitor. She was tall enough, fairly lean, and the definition in her arms was obvious. Her age- eighteen- was a benefit too.

Whatever her name was (you’d been too anxious to pay attention), would be your mentee this year while Mags took the boy. 

The boy.

Finnick Odair. 

And while the age difference between you two was large- almost 7 years exactly- you guys were close. Like sibling-level close. It took everything in your power to not let the tears brimming at your waterline spill. 

The aftermath was a flurry of rushed goodbyes, heated whispers, and your begging Mags to just help you make it through the games. 

Though every instinct screamed at you to put all your efforts into Finnick’s survival, your mind knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. The girl, your mentee, may not have meant something to you, but she certainly meant something to someone. And she deserved life just as much as Finnick. 

It didn’t make it any easier though. 

And in the nights, when the nightmares and fears came creeping in, you turned to drink. 

That’s how you met Haymitch.

Haymitch Abernathy. Blonde, 31, borderline alcoholic, victor of the second quarter quell. And your new drinking buddy. 

Apparently. 

When you get to the bar in the Tribute Center the first night it’s totally empty except for a few Capitol stragglers giggling in a corner booth. 

You take a seat at the actual bar and order from the bartender- a brunette avox who couldn’t be much older than you. You’re sure to be extra polite as you accept your drink and take a sip of the strong concoction. It burns and you know it’ll fuck you up just enough to take the sting off the emotions squeezing your heart. 

“Drinking alone? Seem a bit young to be doing that, sweetheart,” a voice interrupts from beside you.

You turn to find Haymitch Abernathy standing next to you, his appearance a little disheveled, but still obviously very handsome. 

“Not sure you’re the one to be making judgements, Abernathy. You even sober right now?”

He smirks at you a little, “only buzzed for now. Care for some company?”

You scan the blonde suspiciously and decide he’s basically harmless, “fine, but you buy the next round.”

The District 12 victor lets out a chuckle and slides onto a stool beside you, “thought you had more money than you knew what to do with, four.”

“So do you,” you remind him with a shake of your head, “anyhow, it’s not about the money. It’s about the principle. You’re supposed to be a gentleman.”

Haymitch doesn’t reward you with an answer, instead turning to the bartender and ordering two glasses of whiskey. 

“What brings you to the bar so early in the games?”

“Wanted to fully reacquaint myself with the tribute center,” you huff dryly, “I’ve missed it sooooo dearly.”

“You’ll get used to it pretty damn fast. Especially now that the Capitol’s got its claws back on you, you won’t be able to escape it.”

He takes a sip of his drink thoughtfully, “I mean, their angel has made her return.”

A scoff escapes you in spite of yourself and Haymitch smirks. 

“What would they think if they knew you were getting wasted with the Capitol’s most disappointing victor? Your reputation would be ruined.”

“Then maybe I should stick around you a little longer, Twelve. Let some of your bad energy rub off on me. Maybe even have them catch me leaving your room.”

Haymitch chokes on his drink and you smirk. 

“What?! Catch you leaving my room like, like we?”

“Had sex,” you tease, “goodness Abernathy, I didn’t pin you for a prude.”

He rolls his eyes at you and huffs cockily, “me, a prude? Babydoll back where I come from I have a reputation. I’m just shocked that the Capitol’s perfect little angel could be so naughty.”

It’s your turn to choke when he sends you a wink, and you try to cover it with a cough. 

“Looks can be deceiving, Abernathy.”

***** 

You’re not sure if it’s the booze or the blaring music that’s giving you a headache. Or maybe it’s the relentless stares and unwanted approaches by dimwitted Capitol folks. Regardless, you want to be anywhere but here right about now. 

A party. Celebrating. The arrival of tributes. The arrival of doomed children.

It makes you sick. 

You forget someone is yapping away in your ear until they’re suddenly interrupted by your savior. 

Haymitch. 

“I’m sure the story you’re telling is lovely, really, but unfortunately we’re being pulled away for important mentor business,” he shares calmly, barely suppressing a smirk. 

“Oh, oh. Yes, of course,” the blue-haired person before you chatters, “I’ll have to catch you another time.”

Haymitch, thankfully, is already pulling you away before they can make you answer.

The blonde pulls you through the crowd, hands intertwined, and you can’t help but shiver. You figure it must be the evening chill in the air. 

You seem to be walking forever, further and further away from the party until the voices and music are a faint hum. He’s hidden the two of you away in one of the President’s many flourishing gardens. One that, surprisingly, doesn’t have a rose in sight. 

When Haymitch finally comes to a halt you look at him and smile, eyes darting between his face and your joined hands, “what was all that for?”

He looks at you disbelievingly, “I was saving you.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, “who said I needed saving?”

“The poor glass in your hand that you nearly squeezed to death.”

You once over the glass full of some colorful drink in your hand and shrug noncommittally, throwing it back and then setting the empty glass on the wall. 

“I think you just wanted time alone with me, Abernathy. Seems like an awfully convoluted plan….showing up to the Capitol party, stealing me away so dramatically….”

He releases your hand and leans back against the wall, “don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for the free booze. I only brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

A scoff escapes you and you roll your eyes. 

“Anyhow, you owe me now- for saving you. And for missing out on free drinks because of it.”

“Let me guess, with more booze?”

“How else?”

“I don’t know… a meal, a simple favor…. My friendship?”

Haymitch winces and taked a large gulp of his drink, “don’t think the last would be much of a reward.”

You go to slap his arm but he stops you, his hand grabbing yours.

“You’ve got wicked fast reflexes,” you choke out, trying to suppress the gasp that escapes your lips.

“I’m a victor, remember?”

When you look up at him, his smile seems to briefly vanish, replaced with something much darker. 

You take his drink and finish it while squeezing his other hand. 

*****

“You clean up nice.”

Haymitch looks more than disgruntled to be stuffed into a fancy suit and you can barely suppress your laughter. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles under his breath. 

It reeks of booze. 

“What? I’m just saying it’s nice that you’ve changed up the homeless look.”

The blonde eyes you with a glare, “And I see they’ve stuffed you into another ridiculous costume.”

Haymitch is right. You do look ridiculous, and you’re not even the one on stage tonight. The white, feathery dress made for you was certainly intended to represent your angel persona. You think you look more like a white duck. 

“I suppose it’s better than usual,” you scoff, flattening out a few ruffled feathers, “though it itches like crazy.”

You begin to fidget with your dress again as the group of mentors slowly gather in their assigned seats near the front of the auditorium. The shrill voices of an excited audience echo loudly throughout the room as you step inside. You prepare for the stares and whispers, donning your mask and armor bravely.

Still, your hands shake. Your body’s thrown back in time to your games. You can remember clear as day standing up on that stage as Cesar talked and prodded, guiding you right into the role that had already been decided. 

Sweet. Innocent. Lovely. An angel. 

You’d fallen for the trap, mistaking the net for a lifeboat.

And had you ever really escaped it? 

The knots in your stomach are answer enough, and the seat soon before you is a welcome reassurance for your wobbly legs. 

Somehow, you’ve ended up between Mags and Haymitch. The former smiles at you warmly, nodding in a way that is inexplicably reassuring. Deep down, you know that she’s telling you that Finnick will be okay. That you’ll be okay. 

And when a hand lands on your knee, you’re doubly reassured. 

“Stop tapping your foot, it’s even making me anxious,” Haymitch grumbles. 

You still, turning to look at him apologetically. 

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… weird being back.  I feel like I’m back in my own games, being in this room again. I hate it.”

Haymitch shifts a little and you see him reveal a small golden flask in his hand. 

“Want a drink?”

As tempting as it sounds, you shake your head, “I think I’d puke if I drank. And I want to be present anyway. Ready for anything.”

Your eyes flit to his hand still on your knee and you recall the pleasing warmth as he held yours those few weeks ago. Carefully, you reach out and intertwine your fingers, resting your clasped hands between you. At first he stiffens, and you think he’s going to pull away. But then, he doesn’t. 

And the flask disappears into his pocket, unused. 

*****

The blare of the horn through the speakers nearly sends you into a meltdown on the spot. It feels so deeply real to you, even though you’re miles away from the games. Your eyes are trained on your tribute as she sprints forward towards the cornucopia, and towards her potential death. Still, she’s technically a career, so you have hope that she’ll survive the bloodbath. 

Your eyes stray to Finnick too and your stomach rumbles in worry. But you know that he’s strong and determined, so you try to relax. 

Like usual, the bloodbath is ruthless and you can barely stomach it. It’s worse too because you have a stake in the outcome. Not just your own life or strangers’ lives, but someone you’ve trained, someone you care about. 

It doesn’t register with you that the death of strangers might actually affect you more than you realize. In particular, the two tributes from twelve. They’re struck down quickly, as they often are, and your heart twists. While the death of children is certainly part of the cause, it’s the image of Haymitch that really pains you. Another year, another loss, and you wonder how he bears it. You suppose he doesn’t. 

Hence, the booze. 

Once the initial craziness of the bloodbath calms down and you’re sure that both your tribute and Finnick are safe, you go on a hunt for Haymitch. 

It doesn’t take you long if you follow the trail of beer.

Not literally, of course, but the bar is certainly the right place to start. Haymitch is slumped over on a stool and your heart breaks a little. 

“Drinking alone?” you say quietly. 

The blonde looks at you unimpressed and you’re immediately taken aback by the pain swimming behind his eyes. 

“Care if I join you?”

He hums noncommittally and you don’t take that as an outward no. After you take a seat you order a drink and sip silently for a few moments. 

“I’m sorry about your tributes.”

Haymitch shrugs, “I knew they were never gonna make it.”

“But it can still hurt,” you remind him. 

Haymitch scoffs a little, “I don’t care. I barely knew the kids.”

You study his face and can tell that he actually does. Of course, you don’t say that. Instead, you reach out and grab his hand. This time, he doesn’t even flinch as he grips yours back. 

“Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You drag him along to the fourth floor suite and bring him inside. 

“I’ve entered enemy territory,” the blonde says gruffly.

You smirk at him and hold up a bottle of whiskey, “what about now?”

He smiles a little and you pour a drink for each of you before settling on the couch next to him so that your knee is touching his thigh- so you’re fully facing him. 

“You know, you don’t have to pretend to be strong,” you tell him softly. 

“I’m not pretending, I’m fine.”

Haymitch turns his head away and you hear a small sniffle. 

“Sweetheart,” you coo.

You grab his chin and gently turn his face towards you. He looks embarrassed and teary eyed and you stroke your thumb over his cheek. Haymitch’s eyes flutter shut and you think it’s a rather pretty sight. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper very softly. 

When Haymitch opens his eyes you’re inches apart, and your heart stutters in your chest. 

You both lean slightly closer, your breaths mingling. 

“Haymitch…”

He abruptly pulls back. 

“I think I need another drink.”

*****

You suppose you’re glad it was quick. Hopefully pretty painless. No chance to be afraid or to bleed out slowly. 

But it also happened so fast. One second your tribute was breathing, and now she’s gone. You’d had such high hopes for her, and now she was dead. Was it your fault? 

Was there something you could’ve done to warn her? To prepare her better? 

You feel even more guilty because you’re sort of relieved that she’s dead. Not because you wanted her to die, but because it means Finnick is one step closer to getting out of the arena. Back home to District Four where he is relatively safe- or at least in your dome of protection. 

When the guilt subsides, it’s replaced by numbness. That’s all you feel. 

You understand now why Haymitch drinks. It provides some semblance of warmth when all you feel inside is coldness and emptiness. 

Knocking. You hear knocking. 

You stumble to the door, bottle in hand, and there he stands.

“Haymitch!”

You lunge towards him and he catches you, gripping your waist firmly. If you were sober, you would’ve been able to suppress the shudder that runs through your body from his touch. 

“Want a drink?” you slur, your boozy breath blowing in his face. 

He shakes his head at you and you shrug, “more for me then.” 

You lift the bottle neck to your mouth but he stops you, gripping your wrist gently.

“I think you’ve had enough, sweetheart.”

A loud laugh escapes your lips and Haymitch shushes you, shuffling the both of you inside and closing the door, “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just funny- you telling me I’ve had too much to drink. Hilaaaaarrious!”

“Well I have a better tolerance.”

You shuffle back and topple over the couch arm, sending Haymitch down on top of you.

“Oooooops… sorrrrryyyyy” you giggle. 

The blonde pushes himself up off of you and sets the bottle down on the side table.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Haymitch asks softly, more kind than you’ve ever heard him before. 

You sober up a little at the question and scoff, “Of course I’m not fine. My tribute just bled out on

television in front of millions of people.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he mutters gruffly.

“Why? What was it you said? You barely even knew your tributes…It’s not like I did either. Why should I care? Or be torn up?”

“Because you’re a better person than me,” Haymitch adds gently, “Because you wear your heart on your sleeve and care so deeply about people.”

He grips your knee and smiles at you sadly. 

“Well I’m done with caring,” you slur, “It only hurts more. I like your way- drink yourself to death.”

You lunge towards the bottle behind him and he reaches out, stopping you again by grabbing your hips and pulling you against him. Surprisingly, he doesn’t let go when he pulls you away from the bottle. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, hugging you. 

“What’re you doing?” you mumble into his chest.

“Giving you a hug, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

He scoffs exasperatedly, “I can stop.”

“NONONO don’t! Don’t.”

You shift back a little to look him in the eyes, “It’s… nice. You’re…nice.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever called me nice before.”

You look at the blonde softly, infatuated by his face- the stubble across his chin, his piercing eyes, his lips…

By some unknown force, you’re pulled to his lips. You reach out and close your eyes, pressing your lips to his. For a moment, he reciprocates, his mouth melting against yours. But then he pulls away, “Stop, stop. You’re drunk.”

“So? You’re always drunk and I don’t stop you from doing things you want,” you remind him.

“I don’t- you’re. Even then, it doesn’t matter. You’re too young and I-”

Haymitch stands abruptly and leaves, abandoning you on the couch, alone. 

*****

Finnick’s return to the Capitol should be more joyous than you currently feel. You’re beyond relieved that he’s back and safe, within arms reach. In fact, you haven’t let him out of your sight in days and you think he’s starting to get annoyed by you. 

Still, something continues to burden your mind or, rather, someone. 

You haven’t seen Haymitch since you drunkenly tried to kiss him a few days ago. Though you were incredibly wasted, his words still ring in your mind clear as day- “you’re too young.”

It’s more painful than flat out rejection, really. Him not having feelings is one thing, but the knowledge that he potentially does and still won’t let you in hurts much more. What-ifs haunt you constantly, and the memory of the look on his face when he pulled away slowly rips your heart to shreds. 

Now there’s only an evening left until you’re set to return home to District Four, only one night until you won’t see Haymitch again until…well you’re not sure how long it will be. 

“You know, I’m the one that should be moping about,” a voice says.

You look up to see Finnick staring at you from the doorway, a knowing look on his face.

“I’m not moping…I’m just tired,” you say.

It is true, but so is Finnick’s statement. Not that you’ll tell him that. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you and walks into the room, plopping down on your bed, “Such a bullshit response. Come up with a better excuse if you’re going to lie.”

“I’m not lying I-”

You shut up as he looks at you unimpressed. 

“Come on, I can read you like a book. What’s wrong?”

You sigh and look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. 

“Nothing I- I kissed Haymitch,” you murmur.

“What’d you say? I can barely hear you.”

“I kissed Haymitch,” you say more boldly. 

Finnick’s eyes widen, and it would be comical if it were any other situation, “Abernathy? You kissed Haymitch Abernathy?”

“Yes, Abernathy. Is there any other Haymitch?”

Finnick shakes his head in disbelief, “I owe Mags five dollars.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mags told me she thought you two liked each other. But I didn’t believe her, so we bet on it. Guess I can’t be that mad though.”

“Well it doesn’t matter, we’re not together or anything.”

Finnick looks at you intently, “why not?”

You sigh and pause for a moment, “Because he said I was too young.”

“That’s such bullshit,” the blonde scoffs, “you’re only like, what, ten years younger? Anyhow, you’re an adult who can make her own decisions.”

You shrug your shoulders and sigh, “I just wish I never would’ve done anything. I was drunk and stupid and now he won’t talk to me.”

A pillow gets thrown at your face and you wince, scowling at Finnick, “what was that for?”

“Drunk you was smarter than sober you. She acted on her feelings. Now you’re just sitting around moping.”

“I-”

Finnick looks at you seriously, “Don’t waste your chance. We both know life is too short to have regrets.”

You stand up quickly and kiss Finnick on the cheek, “when did you get so smart little bro?”

He only rolls his eyes at your endearment and shoves you out the door.

Your hand shakes as you hold it up to the twelfth floor door. It’s ridiculous, really, how you’re more nervous to confess your feelings than you were to fight in the games. 

You take a deep breath and finally knock stiffly. 

There’s momentary silence and you think maybe Haymitch is asleep or not there. But then you hear shuffling from the other side and the door is yanked open- “Wha-?”

Haymitch freezes at the sight of you, his likely nasty reply hanging off of his lips. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks more calmly.

“I-I came to apologize.”

Then, you shake your head, “that’s a lie. I’m not here to apologize because I’m not sorry for what I did… for kissing you. I’m only sorry you left too soon and I was too drunk for us to talk about it.”

Haymitch stands in the doorway still and only stares at you dumbfounded.

“Can-can I come in?”

Finally the blonde nods and steps aside, welcoming you into his space. It’s slightly messy and you suppose he hasn’t left the suite in days, not that you blame him or mind. 

You find a seat on the couch, comfortably separate from Haymitch on the other end. 

“Haymitch-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts. 

“What?”

“I’m sorry. For walking out on you. It wasn’t the right thing to do. I-I panicked and you were drunk and…and I haven’t felt anything like that in a long time.”

You stare at him softly and your heart beats in your chest, “So you did feel something.”

Haymitch runs his hand through his hair exasperatedly, “Fuck, of course I did. I mean, you’re smart, funny, and beautiful, how could I not?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look down at your hands awkwardly… “but you think I’m too young. You said that.”

He sighs, “I-I did. And I meant it. I still do. You’re young, you still have a life to live. You deserve to be with someone young and put together and better…”

You scoff gently, “Did you ever think to ask me what I think I deserve? Why do you get to decide for me?” 

Haymitch’s mouth opens and closes silently like a fish.

“Maybe what I want- maybe what I deserve- is a kind, handsome guy who might be a little rough around the edges, but who is gooey and sweet on the inside. What then?”

“But I’m a drunk and fucked up and…”

You reach out and grip his hand tightly, “I don’t think I’ve seen you touch a drink in days. And also, look who you’re talking to. I don’t exactly handle my trauma well either. I’m a victor too, remember?”

You shuffle closer to him, “Please don’t push me away, please-”

Before you can finish your response you’re cut off as Haymitch moves forward and pulls you into him, kissing you passionately.

You melt into his touch and sigh, finally being rewarded with what you’ve been craving for weeks. 

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, panting softly, “you know, you’re right. I haven’t drank in days because I found something better. I got drunk on you instead.”

[hgfictionwriter]

Teasing

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's not a particularly jealous person, but when it comes to you, well, things are different. You and Jessie are missing each other while Jessie's out with the team and you're at an event.

A/N / Warning: Inspiration finally struck again. The usual warnings still apply - smut, language, etc.. Hope you all enjoy! Oh, and I defaulted back to Jessie being with Chelsea. I'll switch over eventually!

gif credit to @glimmerofawesome

"How's your night going, beautiful?" Jessie blocked out the din of the bar she and the team were in as she sent you a text.

"It's fine. Missing you, wish you were here. How's your night?"

"It's okay. Pretty boring, but I've still gotta stay for a while longer. You know, fulfill my social duty and all."

"Too bad. I'm heading out soon. I hate these networking events. I've dealt with enough drunk flirting for one night."

Jessie sat up a bit in her seat, eyes narrowing at her phone. "Sorry, what?" She typed out.

"You know. Smarmy partners from out of town getting a bit too confident after a few drinks. I'm okay - please don't worry, but yeah, promises of dancing and a good time despite me explicitly saying I have a girlfriend. A gorgeous and wonderful one, at that."

Jessie's chest tightened and burned as she read the message. You were beautiful and charming, so it was really no surprised that someone would hit on you. Still, she didn't have to like it.

"Well, I'm glad you're leaving. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Hopefully it hasn't been too bad."

"As if you're a stranger to being flirt with lol. I've seen the way the girls look at you ;) I mean, I should know, I'm one of them. But no, it's all good. Like I said, just makes me miss you."

"Well, text me when you're home so I know you made it safe. And get away from all those lecherous girls (and guys?). I don't like hearing about them looking at my girl ;)"

"I know, baby. Believe me, when their eyes were raking over me, all I thought about was you and the way you look at me when you're on top of me."

Jessie's eyes widened momentarily as her head snapped up to look around, suddenly very aware of everyone around her. Thankfully, everyone seemed mostly preoccupied. Before she could think beyond the visual of pinning you to the bed beneath her, her phone buzzed again.

"They don't know how good you fuck me. They don't know how good you make me feel."

"Fuck," Jessie whispered before she could stop herself. The feeling that went through her was instantaneous. She fidgeted in her seat, eyes darting around self-consciously before tapping out a reply.

"Jesus christ, baby girl." Send. "What are you trying to do to me?" She exhaled shakily and tried to ignore the heat she felt rising to her cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

She smirked. You knew damn well what you were doing.

"Babe."

"I mean, I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay out longer. Go dancing."

Jessie's grip tightened subconsciously on her phone as her eyes bore into the characters on the screen.

"Well then I'm coming there." Jessie rapidly typed out her reply, holding back the desire to write "Not without me, you're not." Jessie didn't consider herself a controlling person, she trusted you and you were both secure in your relationship together, but well, you just had a way of working her up. The thought of someone else wanting you, touching you, having you - she knew it was all harmless, but it drove her crazy nonetheless.

"Yeah? And what?"

Jessie looked around again before responding.

"And I'll make sure the only person who's grinding on you is me."

"Mm, baby. I love when you get like this."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jessie's mouth.

"Your hips against mine. I'll move your hair to the side and kiss down your neck, my hand on your back and pulling you close to me." Jessie bit her lip briefly. "And if you're good, I'll lead you by the hand to the bathroom and fuck you. Your cum pooling in my hand as you tighten around me."

"Oh my fucking God, Jess. You're so hot. You've nearly got me touching myself in the back of this cab. I can picture you next to me, your hand moving up my thigh. I'd give anything to have your fingers inside of me."

Jessie exhaled again, looking around the room as she steeled herself. She checked the time on her phone.

"Baby, please. I need you so bad already. I want you on top of me."

Jessie's eyes scanned the text before she locked her screen again. This was getting out of hand. It buzzed once more.

"Show me I'm yours. I wanna scream your name."

"Hey, you okay?"

Jessie startled, nearly jumping out of her seat as her head snapped up to see Niamh looking at her with concern.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah," she nodded, doing her damnedest to seem nonchalant. She grimaced a bit. "I'm just not feeling that good. My head's pounding." She really should try to stay longer...but fuck it. "I think I'm gonna go."

"Oh okay, well, feel better. I'll see you at practice tomorrow?" Niamh asked as she gave Jessie's shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah, for sure. I'm gonna go - you can let people know if they ask, right?"

"Don't worry. Rest up."

Jessie gave a half-hearted smile and wave and was out the door.

"Where are you?"

"On my way home. I'm so wet for you. I need to do something about it."

"Fuck," Jess breathed again. She typed, "I'm headed home, too. My baby needs me to take care of her."

"You have no idea. No one makes me feel like you do."

"They better not." She replied simply, biting her tongue on the matter as she climbed into the back of the car.

"Well, I guess you better get home soon and show me who this pussy belongs to."

Jessie exhaled sharply before readjusting her position. The tension that was mounting between her legs kept her from sitting still. Her mind was racing with thoughts and images of the two of you together. She needed you. She wanted to take you. And even with how much she loved and respected you, she wanted to claim you.

She rolled out her shoulders and gripped her knee tightly as she tried to relax.

Time went by achingly slowly as you sent teasing message after teasing message. Your messages were exhilarating, but taunting at times. It only made matters worse when her phone buzzed showing a phone call from you. She swallowed as she picked up.

"Hi, my love," your voice came through from the other end of the line. Jessie gulped once more as her nails dug into her leg again. "Don't say anything. I just got home. I'm getting undressed and I'm getting ready for you. Here - listen." Jessie's eyes fluttered shut and her jaw dropped as sounds of your wetness filled her head. Her eyes only opened again when your voice filtered back in. "That's how much I need you. It's all for you."

"I love you so much," Jessie said as she bundled her shirt in a fist, loss for words otherwise and desperate for some kind of release.

"I love you too, baby," you replied softly. "I can't wait until you fill me up."

Jessie's mouth fell agape once more. The craziest part of it all is that you were nearly as reserved as she was in day to day life. The fact that you were like this with her and her alone made her feel like she was on top of the world. She'd allowed you into a special place in her heart, in her being, and you'd done the same for her. Nothing could be better.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of your apartment, Jessie felt like she might burst out of her skin.

She took the stairs two at a time as she ascended the stairwell up to where you were waiting. She grunted in frustration as she fumbled with the keys before the lock turned and she threw the door open. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the light coming from your room down the hall. She'd taken off her shirt and thrown it aside and was already undoing her jeans by the time she rounded the doorframe to see you lying on the bed, head thrown back, fingers massaging your clit.

"Fuck, babe," Jessie breathed as she quickly finished undressing and climbed up onto the bed, immediately grasping your hand and giving you a kiss on the back of it before pushing your legs back and tasting you.

You let out a cry at the touch and placed your hand on the back of Jessie's head as she began to lap up your juices.

"Oh my god, baby," you moaned, hips gyrating up into her mouth. "I love you. I needed you so bad. Oh my god."

She moaned in appreciation as her lips closed around your clit and she sucked hard at the sensitive bud. She smiled as your hips jerked at the action.

"You taste so good," she mumbled as her tongue trailed up and down between your folds. "And you're all mine." She grinned again as your fingers tightened in her hair.

"No one else's," you affirmed in a breathy voice, followed up by another moan as she flicked her tongue across your clit. She continued to devour you and it wasn't long before your cries filled the room. "Don't stop," you pleaded as you gripped her hair tightly and began to cum. She moaned deeply as your legs flexed around her head and she continued to lap up your juices like it was the only thing that mattered in this world.

When your legs finally relaxed and your hips fell back down to the bed, she laid one more kiss on your lips before wiping her chin and climbing up your body. As she did, ran two fingers along your folds and grinned at the small cry you let out as your hands gripped her biceps. She leaned down and whispered in your ear as her fingers traced around your entrance.

"You still want me to fill you up, baby?" She nipped at your earlobe. "Make your pussy mine all over again? Make sure you keep thinking of me and only me anytime someone else wants you?"

"Oh god," you moaned in need as you writhed beneath her.

"Do you want me, baby?" She asked softly as her fingers continued to tease you.

"Always," you whimpered. "Oh god, Jess. Please, I need you inside me."

She wrapped her free arm around your back and leaned down to tenderly kiss your jawline.

"You're the only one for me," she said before sinking her fingers deep inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and she bit down on your collarbone, stopping herself before it got to be too much.

"Fuck, you feel so amazing," she breathed in reverie. "You feel incredible every time." She shook her head as she slowly pulled out and moved back in. "God, so tight."

You didn't hold back, your moans filling the room as Jessie began to pick up her pace. "You feel so good inside me, Jess." You clutched her to you. "You fill me perfectly."

Jessie growled in approval as she began to fuck you harder. Even if you hadn't laid a finger on her, she was dizzy with pleasure from knowing how good she made you feel and to know it was because of her - no one else - her.

"Baby, you're perfect for me," she praised as she took you in.

A night out with her team, fan adoring her and flirting with her, she didn't need it - all she wanted was to be with you right now. To be the one to take you high and over the edge. To fall asleep with you, wake up with you and breathe you in.

Your grip tightened on her and your cries rose in pitch. She kissed your neck tenderly.

"Go ahead, baby. I'm here, I won't let go," she coaxed you as your sounds echoed off the walls and you began to tighten around her fingers.

Her name fell from your lips as your whole body tensed up and all the pleasure building inside of you released. You were vaguely aware of the whimpers that came from her as she bucked against you and pulled you ever closer.

As you drifted down from your orgasm, she slowly and gently kissed up your neck and face. Your mind and body finally calmed and she reached your lips. She gave you a soft kiss coupled with a sly grin.

"Hi," she said. You were still catching your breath, but managed to nod and return a lazy smile.

"Hi," you chuckled. You brought your hands up to cup her face and kissed her again, deeper this time. She returned it earnestly, grazing a thumb across your cheekbone. You smiled once more and gave her a soft peck. "Thanks for coming home. I missed you."

She laughed and kissed your cheek. "I missed you, too. Could you tell?"

[aquasarsstuff]

100 Followers Event: Villainess Au ft. Riddle Rosehearts x F!reader

Masterlist Kofi Account

A/N: If you saw my Lilia post about this Au, I'll also be making the character's pov as best as I can lol. Anyway, enjoy this riddle fic.

___

You do not remember who you were before, but you were sure you've read about this world in a different place and time. You look beside you to see Riddle, your fiancé. His eyes ever so diligent skims over the text in each page. He was too distracted that you started to openly stare at him.

"Is there something wrong?" His blue eyes met yours, and at the sight of the rarest color in nature snap you out of your trance. Beside his bed, there was a mirror standing on the right. It was facing you, and only then did you realize that you were frowning. 

You wave your hands in front of your face. The action making Riddle's eyes go wide as saucers. You immediately think of an excuse to say, "The potted plant on your left... is wilting! I do not like it when plants are not cared for. A rose should be bright red not brown."

"Oh... I'm sorry. I've been following the instructions in the book, but over the days it just kept deteriorating. I'll find a way to bring back its color," he says meekly.

Looking at the kid's face, you knew you have said the wrong thing. He looks like he was just about to cry. You shifted to the side. From what you remember from your robbed memories, he was terrifying after ascending of age. Meanwhile, you were an uptight lady, someone that has the same views as his mother that will eventually die early someday. You gasp out loud. This was no good. 

"Your highness are you alright?" he moves a little bit to examine you. You turn around, and suddenly both of your faces were in a close approximate. His cheeks brighten red. When he about to speak, you place a finger on his lips. 

"I am quite well. You know what?" You slide the books on the table and reach for the potted rose to place it on the middle. "While it is important that you know how to handle a plant, sometimes you just need love to nourish it." You pointed to the soil. It was damp, indicating that he hasn't been neglecting it. "Hm... well, look at this new bud that sprout out of its stem. See that you take care of it this one with love."

"Yes... your highness. I promise."

 "Riddle," immediately he became your focal point. "You should just call me by name when were alone. Wait... how about this? What do you think of using this as a promise tool?" 

"A promise... tool?"

You place the potted rose between you, "Riddle Rosehearts, I pledge that until this stem keeps producing beautiful roses, I will stay by your side!" 

"Uhm..." 

"You grab his hands, "I won't force you to make a promise right now. You can even keep it a secret. I know that you will fulfill it, nonetheless." 

____

"Riddle, take this," you gave him a white handkerchief. Each of its sides were embroidered with two roses— one was white, and one was red. "Think of it as a blessing from me."

Years have passed, and you were glad that you were able to retain a good relationship with him. You don't know how the plot will exactly play out, but you hope that from his trust will be the key for you to avoid the trial room, with him as the judge for your fate. 

 "Isn't this a custom meant for knights? I am not going to war—" 

"But you will still be away. You're going abroad to study, and it isn't like before that you'll just be gone for a few days. You'll be away in another country for years."

He did not say anything.

"I made it myself for you. We can exchange letters, but I promise that I'll always be by your side, so accept it!" you insisted, pushing it to his hands. 

"You did not even see the state of the rose for years."

"I know that you are still taking care of it. Otherwise, you would have already push me away."

He sighs, safely hiding your gift in his pocket, "I appreciate the gesture, but did you really have to give it here?" he raises one eyebrow at your unkempt appearance and muddy dress.

"It's either this or I won't be able to give it to you. I didn't find the right time to hand it out," you retorted. 

"The schedule of when I will depart has been given to you few months prior. There were plenty of right time." ​

"I might have procrastinated a little bit, heh," you smile awkwardly, raising the sides of your dress to walk to a cemented path avoiding his gaze. 

"What about this morning when you have given me your goodbyes?"

"I was embarrassed. There were so many people. and our family members were there too."

"Did it not occur to you that it more embarrassing to see the royal heir running about, competing with a horse? Even your garments are ruined," there was a small frown on his face. He reaches out to the carriage door and opened it. You thought he was going to leave you here, but he stayed behind the door, extending his hands to the entrance and you.

"Huh?" you look at him dumbfound. 

"Get in. I am not leaving until your disheveled appearance is fix."

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Hello! I'm so sorry because this is a bit random and you definitely don't have to answer. But I'm a writer too and is it just me or has Tumblr been seeing much less interactions with fanworks these days? People aren't reblogging the way they used to and it's bugging me. Someone reblogged one of my fics this morning with "I don't usually repost fics but this one stole my heart" and I'm pleased with the compliment obviously but it did rub me the wrong way... Tumblr has no algorithm that'll push fanworks to you, and if you like something you're a lil bit responsible for it being shared. And while I do thankfully receive compliments and encouragement on that blog, on another it's just... It feels a bit like they don't care for the author, they just want the fics.

I know this was a bit random, apologies again! I just didn't know who else to take this too. Hope you're having a wonderful week!

I mean, I do agree with you on the “people unfortunately no longer engage with or reblog stuff like they used to in the past” though, as a fellow writer, I don’t believe anybody is “responsible” for reblogging things they enjoy, be it fanfiction or anything. like… yes, reblog means a whole lot to us artists. Like as a function — for Tumblr — doesn’t actually help that much (Like still helps, we still appreciate Like, but it’s not as effective as Reblog), because unlike other social media platforms, Tumblr Like isn’t going to get the content spread to wider audiences. but still, I don’t want to guilt trip anybody into thinking that “reblogging stuff you enjoy is a Must on Tumblr” because then it kind of becomes a “responsibility”, and I don’t think “responsibility on anybody’s end (be it artists’ or audiences’)” is why we create art to begin with, be it fanfiction or fan art or any other form of art.

instead I’d like to encourage people to please reblog the stuff they like. we do appreciate you if you like our posts, but we will appreciate you even more if you reblog and help our content reach wider audience.

please please please please don’t be shy to reblog what you like. reblogging is also a great motivation for your favorite artists to create more art you can enjoy.

reblog is like giving your friend a cup of hot chocolate as a way of thanking them for giving you a gift (fanfic or fanart), in the sense that it’s not your ‘responsibility’ to give your friend a cup of hot chocolate because when your friend gifts you the gift (fanfic or fanart), they do it out of love, not because they demand something in return from you, but your friend will still greatly appreciate the cup of hot chocolate nonetheless, and there will more likely be more gifts (fanfic or fanart) from them this way.

[uranometrias]

wait for your love, spencer reid (pt. 2)

this is the second part to this. tysm for all the love on the first part, as well as all the new follows. this literally took so long, and i'm literally so sorry. i suck, but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. xx

you can read the alternate version for jj right here.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: following the dismissal of the case against the bureau, you're trying to get back into the swing of things. that moment of realization that comes with discovering the love you feel for someone else isn't reciprocates is never fun. but it's a truth you're meant to accept nonetheless, with a bit of help from your dearest friend spencer, you find that through a conversation about the realities of music and their hidden messages getting the courage to move on is not quite as difficult as you might have initially thought. especially when there's someone like spencer reid waiting on the other side. except of course, things always get difficult when it seems now as you're moving on, the past object of your desires is believed to feel the same way you always have.

content warnings: this is the sequel to angst lol. it's still very kind of angsty, but not as bad! it doesn't exactly end with spence/reader running off into the distance together, but i think it has a very bittersweet & sort of hopeful ending, which i felt made the most sense for a storyline like this. sometimes people have feelings for people that don't like them back, and sometimes it's just something we have to deal with.. sad but true. && i didn't want spence to seem like a rebound for reader, so i tried to go the route of her slowly putting the pieces together that maybe spence had romantic feelings for her && going from there. still spencer somewhat confesses his feelings for reader, hints that hotch might actually like reader, jj/reader reconciliation, because it needed to happen soz! she might have feelings for y/n too idk... she's kinda pulling everybody. this feels kinda melodramatic, but also idk i want epic romance vibes so i tried my best xx

i also love how hotch was such a focal part of this story and never physically showed up once... hmm.

tagged the people that asked for part 2 xx

@stvrlitsky , @cocopuff213 , @aaronhotchnerlover , @ofagathachristies , @blurpleuni-squid , @wolf-phoenix-lover , @babyspiderling , @queermaxwooo , @jihyowrrld , @minkyungseokie , @silentjudger , @btskzfav , @barbeddreams , @ah-blossom , @darker-december

It had been about a week since the court proceedings, you'd been more than a little surprised to find that you all managed to walk away scot free. You still hadn't managed to work up the courage to place your resignation papers on Hotch's desk, probably because you still hadn't gotten up the strength to face him or anyone else for that matter. You weren't outwardly abrasive, you'd offer small nods of greeting when you showed up in the morning, waves as you left.

But everyone knew that it wasn't the same.

Penelope had been trying to get you out for a night of bonding with her, Emily, and JJ, and you'd been keen on turning her down. You don't think you were quite there yet, the wound however surface level was still fresh. Looking at Emily, only reminded you of your grief, how much you had missed her. Looking at JJ only reminded you of how she hadn't had the courage necessary to tell you the truth. You'd tried to take their positions into account, look at things through a different view, but it hardly worked. You just wanted to be left alone.

Spencer was still the only one privy to the thoughts you had about ending your career at the FBI, and everyday he seemed to be holding his breath. It had become a habit to catch him staring at you with his face pinched up like he was deep in thought. It was partially why, even as your eyes skimmed over a file, you knew that he was looking in your direction. "Spence." you mutter quietly, eyes not quite meeting his as you highlighted something of importance in blue.

He sits at attention, back straight, eyes wide. He looked like a puppy that'd been caught doing something bad and was waiting for punishment. "You're doing it again." you exhale, and then you finally manage to peel your eyes from your work, eyebrow raising as you take him in tiredly. "Do you need something?" and he bares down on his bottom lip, almost as if he was thinking over his next move. He stands tall, grabbing hold of his chair and tugging it until it was planted on the other side of yours, before he sat down politely.

"Are you okay?" he's talking quietly, likely to salvage a bit of your privacy. You'd become a bit of a walking attraction in the bullpen, everyone seemed to follow every one of your actions with their eyes. You tap your highlighter against your desk, head tipping to the side as you scrutinize the man. You didn't know exactly what was going on with Spencer, but you had a small inkling, it was nothing more than an internal feeling if you were completely honest about it.

Your sister had been asking about him quite constantly lately, and after learning that day in the courtroom that for some odd reason the duo spoke over the phone, it made you pay a bit more attention to the certified genius than before. "I'm fine, Spencer. Just like I was when you asked me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that." you keep your tone light, not wanting him to think that you were by any means annoyed with him. "What's going on?"

"I guess I keep waiting for you to disappear." he admits, head nodding involuntarily. "You're here right now, and you look fine." he continues, and you like listening to him, even if he was breaking one of the rules, and choosing to profile you. "So shouldn't things feel different? Better at least, like before?" he asks, and you don't expect that. Maybe he wasn't profiling you at all, and instead was expressing himself to a friend. "At least a little bit?" he asks, and you think it over.

"I don't think it'll ever be like before, Spence." and you hate to be the Betty Buzzkill, but it's as true as you can be. "How can it?" and Spencer's eyes jump across the room, landing on Emily who was not so subtly watching the two of you speak. You follow his gaze, and blink harshly when Emily's eyes connect with your own. It forces you to look right back at Spencer. He looks pensive, and you wonder how long he's been working up the courage to say more than 'Are you alright?'

"She was dead... and now suddenly she's not. That's great, but I grieved my friend, and maybe I'm not done grieving the Emily I knew before." and it's the first time you're admitting this aloud. "Our Emily, not the- Interpol Superspy." and you huff. "And look, I know I should be grateful, how many people get back the people they love after death?" and Spencer doesn't answer. "But is she really back? Is she really still our Emily? And how long before she's ready to pack up her stuff and take off? I'm not opening myself up to that again."

Spencer thinks your point is valid, he at one point had insisted that he had the worse abandonment issues on the team, but you had been right there through most of it. You were, in your own way protecting yourself from being hurt again. He couldn't fault you for that, none of them should. "I understand." and truthfully he does, and he's glad that at least you trust him enough to be upfront about it. "There's nothing wrong with shielding yourself from heartache, I just don't want you to close off completely... not from all of us."

You falter, and Spencer hates that he can't just say that he doesn't want you to close off from him. He didn't want this situation to change the way you behaved with him, he couldn't handle losing you.

"I won't." you promise. "And I won't do anything to jeopardize what we do here, I've got enough self control to be civil." you add with a small smile. "I haven't quite decided what a future at the bureau will look like, but I am willing to give things here a chance to get better." and you do love your work, Profiling was something you enjoyed doing, you wouldn't toss it away, unless you absolutely had no other choice. "So you don't have to worry about losing me, Spence." and you hold your breath, mostly because it's a bit audacious on your part.

He offers you a half smile, and you notice the way he visibly relaxes. Still, he doesn't want you to feel obligated to stay somewhere just for his sake, so he feels the need to be honest with you. "I'm not worried." he promises you, and it's a tiny fib, one that could become true if he grew just a touch more confidence. "Even if you did decide to leave one day I would put in the work to keep you in my life." and his smile stretches across his face now, and reaches his eyes. "You're not someone anyone would want to lose." your stomach twists.

"You're not either, Spencer." and you say it firmly, mainly to show just how much you need him to believe it. "I'd just make it my job to take up all your free time outside of work." and his face feels incessantly warm, like he'd stuck his head directly in the stream of scalding shower water. The funny thing about you was that you were oftentimes one of the hardest on the team to read. He figured that because he spent so much time hyper focused on you that he'd get better at it. He still hadn't, and you still managed to leave him stuck.

Comments like the one you just made were common for you, but the meaning behind it always escaped him. Were you flirting with him or were you just being nice? Was it possible that you knew that he had feelings for you? Were you using him as a rebound after the mess you'd found yourself entangled into with Hotch just months ago? The thought of him merely being an emotional rebound made him sad, disappointed, and insecure. But then he's taking in your expression, how despite your confidence you still look shy, and reels it in.

You had never been that sort of person, maybe you were just as oblivious as he was. "I'd be okay with that now." and you look a bit surprised, but also pleased. You nod your head slightly, leaning forward just a little in your seat. Spencer isn't sure if he's moved too quickly, but he's got no room to second guess it now.

"We should do something." it's not at all what he'd expected you to say, and he's surprised, it's more than evident on his face.

"Who? Us? Just the two of us?" he asks, and you find yourself offering him an amused sort of glance.

"Yeah, it could be fun." you insist, and you're not trying to play with his feelings, at least not in the traditional sense. Spencer Reid was no rebound. "It's not often we have days off, you know?" and you lean against your palm, head tipping slightly to the side. "Only if you want." you add, hoping that this addition would make him feel a touch more comfortable. It seems to work, because he untenses just a bit.

"Y-Yeah." he nods his head slightly, hair moving with the action just slightly. "Yeah, we should definitely do something." he agrees, and your smile is bright, clearly pleased at the turn of events. "When would you?" his eyes jump to his watch, and he shakes his head. "Obviously, not right now." he says and you're staring at him a bit bemused, because Spencer Reid was nothing if not a bit unserious.

"There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and you witness Spencer's eyes seem to brighten. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me to look at some vinyls and cd's for my collection, we could just go-" and you're eyebrows are raised, "And see what happens? There's a lot you could do..." you finish, and Spencer's already nodding his head in agreement.

"T-That's..." and he clears his throat, you think to keep you from acknowledging the fact his voice cracked in his nervousness. "Yeah, I don't mind that at all." he agrees politely. "Did you know that in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, record stores only sold gramophone records, but over time they've sold other formats like eight-track tapes, compact cassettes, and compact discs." his hands curl into one another as he relays this message and you snort.

"Did you know that there's a national record store day? It started back in 2008." and he's a bit surprised that you're shooting him a fact of your own, and one that he wasn't actually aware of.

"Really?" he questions, and your eyes sort of crinkle, smile broadening enough to show off both rows of your teeth.

"Don't tell me that I know something the brilliant Doctor Reid doesn't." you tease, and his eyes roll, though his entire demeanor remains lighthearted. "So, what's your poison?" you sidestep, but just barely, your work ignored as you focus all your efforts on keeping this conversation with Reid going.

"My poison?" and his mind of course drifts to alcohol, a bit of a confusing pivot in the conversation. "I don't really see myself as much of a drinker." he admits truthfully, and he's confused when you're laughing, hand flying up to cover your mouth as his face contorts.

"I meant your favorite music genre." you correct. "And I know you're partial to classical," and you try not to stretch your eyes. "It's great when I need to concentrate, but I wouldn't exactly say I'm dying to put on Bach and Tchaikovsky in a regular setting." you explain, both hands resting against your cheeks as you await the hopefully longwinded answer he'd have to give you.

"What if that's my only answer?" he asks, and you scoff.

"It's not." you deadpan, and he exhales through his nose. "I know you and Morgan have that understanding about music..." you explain, head cocked to the side. "He got you to listen to Nas." you remind him as he purses his lips at the reminder. "And Garcia's always sending music recommendations." you proceed as Spencer shoots you a look that clearly reads 'What's your point?'.

"Are you really telling me that out of every genre of music that's ever been released to the entire world, the only genre that's ever stood out to you is the one where old men sit behind a piano and twinkle the keys to their hearts content?" Spencer's releasing another one of those quiet laughs, this one is clearly full of exasperation though.

"I think they're doing a little bit more than twinkling keys." he corrects you, and you know that. You'd only said it to get under his skin just a little, he was fun to mess with. "Classical music is one of the only genres that seemingly does so little and is able to express the full spectrum of human emotion and life experience." he explains, and you fight your smile, leaning in just a bit more to show you were focused. You weren't sure what was happening or if anything was really happening at all, and it was all in your mind.

But you were finding that you didn't mind just listening to Spencer go on and on about whatever he wanted. You thought a lot about what had happened outside of that court room, how he'd listened to you. Really listened to you, and had never once made you feel like the emotional failure you'd imagined yourself to be. You couldn't say that in the span of a week all of your feelings for Hotch had vanished. That'd be bullshit, because deep down you knew it wasn't that easy.

And sometimes you wished it could be, sometimes you wondered why you had to fall for Hotch when Spencer was right there.

Still, whether or not you were being forced to come to grips with the fact that Hotch was not, and wouldn't ever love you the way you loved him, you couldn't deny that it was nice to have a friend there. Spencer wasn't coming to you with heavy confessions and tear-streaked cheeks begging you to look and see that he was perfect for you, which is why you think you like him even more. You knew a lot of times it was hard, rare even to find someone who would just care for you without expecting anything in return. That was Spence to a T.

"Go on." you instruct, and you find that despite the way you'd baited him into this conversation, it was well worth it. He didn't get a lot of time to just be Spencer, and with no clock over your heads, no rush for time to solve a case, you figured it was the least you could do. Especially after he'd spent the last week trying to show you how much he cared.

"I just mean that in classical music, it's actually very common to have one piece of music encompass an entire host of emotions, experiences, and subject matter." he expresses, and you hum, nodding along. "And it's all because most classical pieces use a similar formula that uses textures, dynamic colors and key modulations to express things certain words can't properly articulate." he proceeds. "That's why certain sounds and notes manage to adduce certain reactions." he seems finished.

"Oh, yeah?" you press and he nods limply, seemingly awaiting the moment you offer some jab regarding his oversharing. "I guess Mozart and Beethoven were really onto something." you mutter, and he snorts. "Still, I'd much rather listen to something a bit more obvious." you admit, not that you had a real problem with Classical Music.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm just saying... music's always sort of been the perfect tool for expressing everything you might need to say." you counter. "And while I agree that music in any form does a great job of invoking certain emotions, sometimes you don't want to guess what someone means." you admit, and it's partially (mostly) because you had never been good at reading in between the lines. Things always made the most sense when they were plainly spelled out.

"Or maybe that's just a me thing." you correct. "I've found that I always enjoy things when they're a little more laid out... there's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right?" you ask and Spencer's lips curve down into a slight frown. He's not pitying you, mostly just sympathizing with how torn up you must have been about everything. Especially as your eyes instinctively are drawn to the shut doorway of Hotch's office. Spencer thinks that's when reality sets back in and hits him like a brick.

Because he knew something that you didn't. Something that would probably make everything better for you, but would undoubtedly double his heartache. In truth, he, much like everyone else on the team tried their hardest to ignore just how obvious you'd been about your feelings for hotch. spencer more than anyone.

He remembered how things had changed a few months back, how you'd started to move on all for the rug to be pulled from up under your feet. It had been outwardly cruel, undoubtedly. because while everyone else on the team seemed to be just fine with 'don't ask, don't tell', Spencer had been unable to not pay attention to the way Hotch had actually changed too. Did he hate him? Absolutely not... and he knew you didn't either, because despite how idiotic the plan was, he hadn't done much besides give you more attention.

And Spencer guessed the act of giving you more attention had unsurprisingly ended with Aaron Hotchner realizing it was something he actually enjoyed. Hence the sudden change their boss underwent.

He supposed that was the worst part about it all, the fact that everyone had the right to tell you that "nothing had happened", and there was nothing you could do about it. Because in the grand scheme of things nothing really had happened. Hotch was no heartless womanizer, Spencer couldn't even imagine the man flirting with anyone, let alone stringing someone along for kicks. Still, that didn't change the fact that you'd gotten your hopes up, and now you were back to your own harsh reality.

Not because it wasn't a real possibility, more so because Hotch was self destructive, and sabotaged himself and his happiness at every turn. Spencer wants to stay quiet, to bask in the fact that you were slowly on your own terms getting over Hotch, and paying more attention to him, but he can't do that. He'd hate it if someone did it to him. So instead he decides to throw you a bone, push you in the right direction. "Why haven't you just talked to him?" it's not what he had meant to say. He had meant to play the role of the supportive friend.

He'd wanted to pat you on the back, mumble some agreeance that would validate how you were feeling, and possibly give him cool points. Instead, here he was about to push you in the direction of someone else. He supposed that's how stupid love made you.

"What?" you exclaim, and Spencer doesn't know what's so exasperating about his question. It was obvious that you needed to, it wasn't fair that you were slowly deteriorating on the inside whilst trying to maintain some semblance of being a "team player". He said 'screw the team' if it wasn't genuine. And clearly, from the way you'd still been icing out JJ and Emily, it wasn't. Not fully anyway. He'd never rush you to get over it, mostly because it'd make him a hypocrite. He still cringes at the thought of the tears he'd shed to JJ.

But, that was his own problem.

"Hotch." he lowers his voice a little, because it's just now hitting him that the two of you have been slacking off for a while now. Emily wasn't exactly focused in on the both of you anymore, but every so often, he'd find that she still look up every few moments. JJ, Derek, and Rossi had made a habit of leaving their respective offices, eyes glued to what was apparently becoming unit news. "You should talk to him." he says simply as your eyes cross dramatically.

"What's there to talk about?" you ask suddenly distracted by a smudge on the corner of your desk.

"What happened." he says simply. "I mean, don't you think there might be some explanation you might be missing?" Spencer tries, and you curl into yourself just a little bit.

"It's still work hours and he's still Hotch." you deny, and Spencer's lips push to the side, an obvious sign of his slight discomfort about what he was going to say next. "He's not going to want to talk about it." you admit. "And what exactly do you say in a conversation like that? Oh by the way boss, I was in love with you, and it kinda felt like maybe you felt the same, except oh wait, it was just a ploy to keep me from realizing you were lying about Emily being alive?" you say sarcastically. Spencer huffs in retaliation.

"Yes actually, you could say exactly that. Maybe you'll learn something you didn't know before." he deadpans, and your nose curls. You cut your eyes over at the man, who's not amused.

"I kinda thought you'd be the last person pushing for this sort of confrontation, you know?' you admit before you can really help yourself. You watch as Spencer's face seems to set into one of surprise, his cheeks and neck slowly gaining a red sort of tint to them.

"What do you mean?" he questions, and your mouth parts just slightly. And you think the same way he's been gentle with you is the exact same way you need to be gentle with him, so you pivot, head shaking from side to side.

"Nothing." you say firmly. "Forget about it." you say quietly, and then you're looking back at your paperwork. Spencer, embarrassed finds himself fiddling with his fingers, trying to scold his heartbeat back into submission. It suddenly felt way too cramped sitting at your desk.

"You should go after work." he says, and your eyes snap back to him. "Talk to Hotch after work, I mean." he says and your stomach feels a bit tight. "I think it'll be best." he proceeds, and you frown.

"You do?" you question, and you try not to sound despondent.

"Y-Yeah, I do." he agrees despite his stutter. "Things like this don't go away on their own, you know?" and you chew on the inside of your lip, and feel that gloom cloud from earlier making its way back.

"I thought we were supposed to be hanging out today, Spencer." you start and he blinks owlishly, long lashes nearly caressing the tops of his cheekbones.

"We could always raincheck." he says, and you stare at him just a bit blankly. "It's not like it was a date or anything. They were just plans..." he adds, and your teeth chomp down on your bottom lip. He doesn't really know how to read the look on your face, but he knows that he feels like he's being noble.

"Just plans." you shrug your shoulders dismissively. "Right." and then you pick up your pen. "Well if that's what you want, I guess it's fine by me." you add, body curling into itself as you position yourself away from him.

"Isn't that what you want?" he questions, and you cut your eyes.

"Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" you keep your voice level, but your leg is bouncing. You're not quite sure why, maybe because Spencer was being Spencer. You supposed your comment that made it clear that you knew that he had feelings for you had scared him. Now, he was trying to protect himself, but you weren't so hungry for a relationship that you'd string him along for the sole purpose of getting over Hotch. You would've made this call had you figured it out or not, and you supposed the fact he didn't get that was what sucked. "I'm not that pathetic." you add with a quiet scoff.

"It's not about you being pathetic." he denies. "I don't think that about you., I just know that you're in a vulnerable place. You had real feelings for him, and I think it'd be best for you to get it all off your chest correctly, before you start projecting all those leftover feelings to the first person you can." and he doesn't mean it in the way it sounds. In fact the statistics about rebounds would sound a lot worse, but as usual, he's horrible at communicating exactly what he feels.

You blink. Once, twice, three times.

"I can't believe you just said that to me." you say, and you're abruptly standing up, mostly because you're about to cry like the fucking baby you were. Spencer's certain this is a new record for how quickly things could go left just because he couldn't shut the hell up. What he'd been trying to convey was that after a rejection, it was much easier to mistake platonic feelings for romantic ones. He had been a consistent shoulder for you to lean on since everything went south.

He didn't want you to think that he was being nice to you only because he had feelings for you, and convince yourself that you felt the same all because you refused to fully shut the door with Hotch. But he'd never actually meant to make it seem like you'd be so desperate, and especially not with him. "Y/N, wait. That's not what I meant-" except you're already leaving, taking in the shaky breath that told him he'd stupidly made you cry.

"L/N?" Emily's calling as you pass her, but you don't respond to her either. Instead you're rushing off in the direction of the bathroom, likely to calm yourself down. Emily's eyes are immediately snapping over to Spencer, and her eyebrows are furrowed. He instinctively looks away, internally cursing himself out.

────────────────────────

"Y/N/N?" you're surprised to hear JJ entering the bathroom, and you're hurriedly moving to splash at your face with water to keep it from looking so puffy. Still, JJ was as perceptive as she was pushy, so it's clear she's already put it together that you're crying. "Hey, is everything alright?" she takes on that motherly tone she uses with Henry, and the rest of the team when they're feeling down.

"I'm fine." you insist, and she doesn't look convinced. She takes a tentative step towards you, standing beside the sink you were occupying. "Seriously JJ, please just leave me alone." you partially beg.

"I know you're upset with me, but you're still my friend." she reminds you. "I'm not going to leave you in here when it's clear you're upset." she exclaims. "So you can talk to me or not, but I'm not going anywhere." she deadpans, and you sniffle, rubbing harshly at your cheeks. They're sensitive to the action, blood rushing to your face.

"You're so annoying." you mumble, but there's no bite. It makes JJ snicker, and it's a step in the right direction you're sure.

"It's my job." she retorts with a shrug, and she leans her back against the sink beside you, legs crossing slightly. "Is everything okay?" she tries again, much more gently as you frown. No, everything was not okay. You hadn't actually expected to be sitting here crying over Spencer's remark, but you supposed that the fact he believed you'd ever use him as a rebound had kind of hurt. You supposed it also didn't help that he'd so callously canceled your plans.

You'd actually started to look forward to hanging out with him.

"Do you think I'm desperate?" you question haughtily, and JJ's eyes widen, surprise overtaking her features as she turns to you fully.

"Of course not." she denies firmly, blonde ponytail bobbing with all her intense animation. "What would make you think that?" she pries, and you cut your eyes just slightly.

"You guys could have trusted me with the truth." you counter, and she falls silent. "And even if you couldn't there were so many other ways to keep me from finding out about Emily. Ways that didn't involve making me look like an idiot to the rest of the team." you mumble crossly, and you blink enough that you feel like your lashes are crumpling into your cornea. it forces you to drag a hand over them roughly, rubbing harshly at your eyes until the sensation left.

"That wasn't what we were trying to do." JJ tries, and it doesn't really matter what exactly she was trying to do. What mattered was what had happened. "You know that." she adds, and you think she's trying to appeal to the part of you that knew the type of people she and Hotch were. The ones that had proven their loyalty to the team for years and years. "Is this about Hotch?" she says and you wince because the problem wasn't that simple.

And you didn't understand why everyone seemed to think so.

You weren't some girl that couldn't handle rejection, what bothered you the most was that Hotch and JJ had felt like they couldn't trust you, and it bothered you that Hotch had felt like he had to play along to some stupid fantasy to ensure you'd play your role. And it especially bothered you that you'd mourned your friend Emily and everything you thought you knew about her, and all anyone could focus on was the fact that you liked Hotch and he didn't like you back. As if your entire world stopped all because of it.

"No, it's not about Hotch." you deadpan. "I wish you guys would just stop being so casual about it." you add on as JJ's mouth parts.

"Y/N... it's not really something that you'd ever really been subtle about. Everyone knows." and she's still trying to be gentle, despite the fact that the words still managed to slice at you.

"So that makes what you guys did, okay?" you shoot back. "Is that really the hill you want to die on?" and you're growing crosser. "This isn't about not being liked back by a guy, this is about me believing that the people I spend most of my days with have my back. How are we supposed to be a team when I can't trust you?" you press. "Because you never would have done that to Spence." you add, and JJ blinks, mostly because she doesn't know how to counter that.

"You didn't have to do it to Derek or Rossi or Penelope either." you remind her. "So what was it about me, about this that made your only course of action rubbing salt in a wound that I was doing a damn good job of healing all on my own?"

"I-I don't know." she admits, and you suppose it was an answer.

"Yeah, well I don't know if I have the patience to wait around for you all to figure that out." you mumble.

"What are you saying?" and JJ's blinking a bit more, eyes misty but not quite showing any signs of shed tears.

"I'm saying that before I didn't know if I wanted to stay here anymore. I love my job, but I don't love how it makes me feel now." you say plainly. "When Elle got like that and ignored her gut it got someone shot." you say, and it sounds melodramatic, but it doesn't feel that way at all. JJ gasps, though it's faint. "I just don't want to wait around for that to happen to me." and you inhale sharply, shuddered breath wracking through you as JJ stares at you clearly gobsmacked.

"But-" and she can't quite grasp the words. "You can't just leave." she exclaims, and it sounds like she's pleading. "Look-" and she's starting to sound just a little desperate. "Look we never wanted to hurt you, okay? And-and none of us..." and she stops to make sure she's staring you directly in your eyes. "None of us want to lose you, Y/N." she insists. "I-" and she's shaking her head again. "Please don't do this." and she sounds the same way Spencer did when he said it. Your nose twitches, "We just got the team back together." she mutters.

"JJ, that's not fair." you huff at her, and she's not really trying to be fair. She just doesn't want you to leave.

"I'm so sorry that we hurt you." and while most apologies that start that way are usually rife with deceit, JJ sounds more sincere than she probably ever has before. "And I'm sorry if it feels a little flat, especially with you already having a foot out the door." she sighs, "It wasn't okay, but-but I know how Hotch feels about you. How the entire team feels about you." she reiterates. "We can't do this without you, we can't." she emphasizes sternly. "And maybe that's selfish to bring up, but we all care so much about you." she promises.

You want to cut her off, but she doesn't give you the chance.

Classic JJ.

"Do whatever you need to! Take as much time away as you need, hate us forever if you have to, but please don't- don't walk away from what you do here." she exhales shakily. "And-and for the record, whether it helps or not... we didn't sit around discussing your... feelings for Hotch." she tells you quietly. "It wasn't some master plan that we composed, and-and I don't know... it couldn't have all been fake." she whispers, and you wonder why she's changing her tune, because just last week she was telling you that 'it wasn't real'

"JJ-" you finally manage and she's shaking her head.

"I'm serious." she insists, and your nose crinkles up again.

"Stop." you deadpan. "You're being really mean." you huff, and you begin to click at your nails just slightly. JJ thinks you're a little bit exasperating. Too stubborn for your own good, but she wont push.

"Could you just listen for one second?" she exclaims, and you're pouting as she grows more overwhelmed at it all. "I wouldn't lie to you about this." she insists, and you wonder why she, and Spencer have taken this sort of stance with you. It should make you hopeful, right? Oh, there was some chance that Hotch felt the same way as you. Except you can't be happy about it, because he's not the one that was sitting here telling you this. It was JJ.

What had you told Spencer earlier? 'There's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right', and emotionally exhausted or not, you meant it. Which meant you refused to do the work for him. If he couldn't say it, if he couldn't admit it, than it was as if it wasn't true at all. Which is why you exhale, blinking away whatever bleariness tried to keep itself latched to your eyes. "I love you for trying so hard, but I'd rather you didn't." you instruct sternly.

JJ inhales deeply, audibly expelling the breath from her nose. "That's what you're missing, Y/N." she begins, and she reaches out, hand cupping your shoulder. "I'm not trying to do anything. Everything I've said today I meant. You're important, and you're a lot to lose." she admits. "If you're going to leave, leave because you hate the job, do it because you don't feel fulfilled any longer. But don't let this be what makes you throw in the towel, Y/N." she says and you huff again.

You were doing a lot of that today. "We'll make up for it." she begins, and then she sighs. "I'll make up for it, however long it takes." and you think her pivot from sharing the blame to taking it all for herself makes you feel a little less like you were being ganged up on. She was no longer the spokesperson for everyone involved, and was back to just being JJ, your friend JJ. "Please?" she tries again, and it's not like her to beg, which tells you all you need to know about how serious she was.

"We should get back to work." you mumble, and it's not quite the answer she's expecting, but at the very least it was a promise that you both still had until the end of the day at the very least. She doesn't have the strength to fight her smile, arms looping around you in a move that's much too invasive for your still sour mood, but you don't slight her for it. You instead let her hug you, because obviously it meant a lot more to her than you knew. She'd missed you.

"Alright, alright. That's enough." you tease, moving to lightly push the blonde off of you as she exhales.

"Can you blame me? I thought you were gonna hate me forever." she admits honestly, and you crinkle your nose.

"Guess I'm softer than I thought." you reply, and she waves you off at the remark. Still, despite this slight turn in the direction of your relationship with JJ, you still couldn't feel all that settled. But, you know hiding out in the restroom was by no means the best choice. So when JJ moves to leave, you tail her, surprised when on the other side is a nearly pacing Reid.

"Spence?" JJ exclaims in surprise, the tawny haired man turns to you both. He's immediately looking past JJ to take you in. JJ follows hos gaze and whistles under her breath, deciding that her job was done. She offers you a hopeful sort of look before she continues on towards her desk, leaving you and Spencer mostly alone.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and you're subjectively alright, for the moment. You're better than you were, but not as good as you could be. You're not anywhere near where or who you were before, but you suppose after what the team endured there wasn't much that could be done about that last bit. "I'm so sorry." he's exclaiming, and of course, he means it. He always means it. "I didn't mean to-" and he doesn't really know how to articulate all his thoughts correctly.

He's good with words, knows facts and statistics and data, knows what runs through his mind when he thinks about you, and knows what he wants to say. It's when he opens his mouth that things go awry, because despite all his grand attempts, he always manages to screw up when it came to expressing the emotional side of things. His pep talks sometimes fell flat, and a lot of times he missed the mark when it came to cheering someone up. But, he'd never wanted to be a person who hurt you, so he needed to fix it.

Even if it ruined everything forever.

"I wasn't trying to insinuate that you'd-" and he motions between the both of you. "I don't think that you see me as a rebound." he finally vocalizes. "That would mean you'd have to see me in a potentially romantic way." Spencer's voice is as steady as it often was when he was giving a geographical profile or helping to relay some form of fact or evidence during a case. Which said a lot about his intentions, and how serious he was about you not misunderstanding him.

"I was merely trying to note that a lot of times in circumstances where we're faced rejection from someone we hold to a high regard, it's really easy to misinterpret our own feelings and latch onto people before we really mean to." he expresses, and your chewing on the inside of your cheek, albeit subtly. "For example, because you've established me as someone who you can trust during this time, it'd be really easy for you to misinterpret what you think you feel for me." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inwardly.

"How could I possibly do that? They're my own feelings." you retort.

"Because, the first thing people do after a breakup, is they seek validation, or a new way to boost their esteem and self worth." he doesn't quite lecture, but it's clear he's intent on your knowing all of this. "And that doesn't necessarily mean that you're vying for me as a potential person to bounce back with, but a lot of times when you don't process the end of a previous emotional bond, your view of the entire new dynamic can be warped." he proceeds, and you're still not really understanding his point, instead you're feeling more silly.

"What are you saying, Spencer?" you question quietly.

"All I'm trying to explain is that I don't want you to tell me that you want to go out and listen to me promenade facts unless it's what you really want to do." he says, "I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to play along, because you think we're in the same boat... where we- we love someone that we can't have?" he presses, and he winces once it's out, you think you may have started holding your breath. "Does that make sense to you?"

You nod your head limply, and you take in his words. You find that your little hunch about your dear Spencer was correct. You also note that it doesn't quite scare you the way you'd initially believed it would. "Spence, I wouldn't do that to you." you remind him, and he nods too.

"I know that." he promises. "At least not consciously, but our minds can play tricks on us. You could think that this is what's best, moving on... forgetting about- about everything that happened." he presses, and your lips form into a thin line. "And then wake up in three weeks and remember why you fell in love with Hotch to begin with."

"Or-" and his eyes widen.

"Or?"

"Or...I could choose to stop waiting around for someone to not be afraid to love me." you counter. "I could- I could choose to hang out with my friend, Spencer and be okay with whatever happens after that. I could- We could do that. And it could be okay." you purse your lips. "Because, it's what I want to do. Nobody's entitled to my feelings but me, and you know what that means, Spencer? It means that if you think that you might love me, you need to be okay with that." he looks a bit startled that you're saying it so bluntly, but stays quiet.

"And you need to know that sometimes your statistics are gonna be wrong, and sometimes the guy that's too scared to admit how they feel doesn't get the girl." it's a shock, you can't say that you've fallen out of love in a day, you can't say that you've fallen in love in a day. But you do know that Spencer Reid managed to invoke a hope inside of you that you hadn't managed to feel in a long time. He made you girlishly giddy, and you liked talking to him, you liked listening to him, you liked the way it felt when you'd made plans together.

And maybe there was no such thing as a happily ever after where everyone gets who they want, maybe in three weeks you would wake up and find that you and Spencer were better off as friends, but you weren't going to hold up your life in the hopes that maybe someday Aaron Hotchner would wake up and decide he was finally ready to love you out loud. Not when there was a chance to take your own life, your own emotions by the balls and do with them what you wanted.

"He doesn't?" Spencer asks, and you're not quite sure you can place what emotions are resting on his face and in his eyes.

"We can find out." you offer, and it's not some heady and heavy declaration of unyielding devotion, but wasn't that sort of how every relationship started? With some decision to take a chance. Maybe, you didn't really know. "There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and for the second time that day Spencer seems to brighten right in front of your eyes. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me... there's a lot we could do…" and the small change is almost everything. It's scary, causes a pit in your gut.

Still, it's a nicer feeling than uncertainty and the hollowness left behind by idleness. "Are you in?" you ask, and Spencer is already nodding his head, smile reaching his eyes as his pretty teeth reveal themselves to you, eyes twinkling in a way that's very very beautiful.

"Yes." he agrees with a simple nod. "I would-" and you think it's cute the way his smile refuses to leave, and sweet the way he's suddenly grown nervous all over again. "I'd like that-" and his voice cracks, and earns him a laugh, your own demeanor seeming to change as your excitement starts to brew in the depths of your chest.

"Good." you beam.

"Good." he repeats, and there's a small moment, a flicker where you're certain you both look nervous, frightful of what came next. But it only lasts a second, because you're both suddenly being called by Derek, a resounding 'Pretty Boy, Pretty Girl' forcing you out of your bubble and back into the fray. With another shared smile you find yourselves in step, making your way back towards the heart of the bullpen where the rest of the team is huddled. It's rare when work is so light, but you know as well as everyone else, you'll all take advantage of it.

When Penelope smiles at you, you smile back, and it's real.

When JJ plants herself on top of your desk, the two of you actually laugh, spilling secrets and trading gossip like nothing's ever changed.

When Rossi calls you Piccola, you relax even more into the familiarity of being surrounded by your teammates.

When Derek slings an arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss to the top of your head, you remember why you loved your job.

When Emily calls your name and waves you and JJ over to the group, you oblige, meeting Emily's eyes with no mirth left behind. When she calls you by your nickname, you feel that familiar swarm of familial adoration filling your chest, and recognize that things with her would be okay. You find that in the grand scheme she is still your Emily.

When you find yourself standing next to your boss, his usually stern and stoic persona shed in the presence of the team he considered family, you hardly bat an eye. When he smiles at a joke you make, you're pleased, but the anxiety, the panic that tormented you is all gone. The butterflies are too, replaced with the respect you remember.

And when you find yourself looking across the circle and meet the pretty brown eyes of one Spencer Reid, you feel it when your heart tremors, just a little bit.

And you think, in the end, you made the right decision.

[widowbitessting]

Flower Petals on the Floor

Word Count: 996

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Summary: All you wanted to do was surprise the Trio! at work. But the stupid security guard is set on ruining your plan.

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

(I swear I'm not an idiot. I got asks and I lost them. Can I find them? No. I remember it being along the lines of 'a security guard not letting Baby past' so nonnie I am sorry for losing your ask. Just label me stupid I guess. Again, it’s not the best thing I’ve written but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless)

xoxo

It was supposed to be a surprise. 

A midweek visit as your classes were called off. 

You’d even bought a small bouquet of flowers for each of them. 

But would the stupid security man let you in?

No.

No matter what you tried to say, he just wasn’t having it. 

“Listen! They know who I am, just let me up!” 

“No. Your name isn’t on the list, meaning you can’t come in.” He tells you. “Now go and bug someone else.” 

You glower at him, officially irriated. 

“I am not bugging - how many times do I have to tell you? I’m their girlfriend!” 

“That’s what they all say. I wasn’t born yesterday.” 

“Listen boogers for brains, I don’t know who pissed in your coffee this morning; but I’m here to surprise my girlfriends ‘cos they’re stressed out of their minds and you’re sort of ruining it!”

“Heard it all before, love. Now beat it.” 

He shoves you and you stumble back. 

“Hey!” 

“Get out of my building, doll face.” 

“Who are you -” 

“I will personally remove you if I have to. Leave.” 

He tries to shove you again but you manage to scurry back.

You glare at him.

“Fine. Fine. I’m going. There’s no need to push me. God.” 

You stomp out of the reception area and back out the pristine glass doors, where the horrible weather is waiting to soak you. 

“Fucking stupid…butt face.” 

You stop as the door swings shut behind you and pull your phone out of your pocket; texting the Trio.

Y/N (13:14): Hypothetically…if I was trying to get into your building…what would I need to do?

Carol (13:14): Well hello to you too, cutie. 

Carol (13:14):  We’d have to put you on the OK list; get you a Visitor ID sorted and so on. Why?

You groan. 

Why is nothing ever simple?

Y/N (13:15): No reason

Wanda (13:15): Are you downstairs, baby?

Y/N (13:16): Maybe…? I’m outside…

Natasha (13:15): Go back inside love, we’ll be there in a minute❤️

You quickly do as you’re told, rushing back into the warmth of the building. 

Only, you’re met with the same security man as before. 

He’s glaring at you. 

“Listen love, if you wanted to be handcuffed this badly, all you had to do was ask.” 

“What?”

He throws your flowers to the ground and spins you around so fast that you don’t even have the time to make a sarcastic comment. 

The cold bite of his handcuffs snag at your skin. 

“Listen -” 

“No, you listen to me, I’ve had enough of your shit. You’re in detainment until the cops get here, is that understood?”

“Cops? But wait -” 

“Save it.” 

This has to be the most mortifying ordeal of your life. 

Everyone in the open reception space is looking at you and you really don’t know what to do. 

And to make it worse, your left shoe keeps squeaking.

“I can’t - I can’t go to jail!” 

“Should have thought of that sooner, love.” 

He moves you so easily that you make the mental note to start going to the gym. 

Dragging you towards the turnstiles. 

He scans his ID and pushes you through.

Taking you towards the back door when - 

“Greg, any reason you’ve got our girlfriend by the wrists?” Natasha’s voice has you both stopping and you just want to sob in relief. 

She glares at the man holding you, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh thank god.” You mutter. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of our job.” Carol adds. 

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” You glare back at him.

“I was just -” 

“Being disrespectful to someone who we care about.” Natasha buts in. “Forget being professional, you were being downright rude. Uncuff her. Right now.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” 

He lets you go and you quickly move to stand closer to your women; Wanda’s hand quickly finds your waist and holds you close. 

“Do you do this to all the visitors that aren’t on the all clear?” Carol asks, putting her hands into her pant pockets. 

If things hadn’t been so disastrous, you’d have found it incredibly hot. 

…Maybe you still do…

“I - no. I…” 

“Go on. We’re waiting.” Wanda snaps. 

“I was told to make sure no one got in if they’re not on the all clear.”

“And how do we ensure people do get on the all clear?” Natasha asks, as if she’s speaking to a 1 year old, 

“Having one of the reception team buzz up to Kate…”

“And did you do that?” Wanda asks.

“No…”

“Why not?” Says Carol. 

“…she…she was testing my patience!”

“And the reasonable thing to do was handcuff our girlfriend and cause a scene?”

“I was handling it accordingly.”

“He hurt my arms.” You pout and nestle into Wanda, hiding your smile. 

“I think we should have a little chat, Greg, don’t you think? Bring in the Head of Security too?”

The man visibly pales.

“I think that sounds wonderful.” Natasha adds on. “You’re dismissed. We’ll contact you later when we’re ready.” 

And just like that, he’s gone. Practically vanishing in thin air.

“Are you okay, my love?” Carol asks, looking you over and inspecting your wrists. She clocks the red marks where the handcuffs were too tight. 

“I’m gonna kill him.” Natasha growls, pulling you in for a tight hug. “My poor girl.”

“We’re gonna put you on the clearance list and get you an ID sorted.” Wanda says. “So you can come straight up next time.”

“Okay.” You pout. “I brought you flowers but he…” You point to the flowers littered on the floor. 

“Aw, baby girl.” Natasha sighs. “We appreciate the gesture. C’mon. Wanna come see where we work?”

You nod. 

Natasha takes your hand and leads you to the elevators. 

They open almost as soon as you get there and the four of you walk inside. 

Carol presses their floor and you grin up at her. 

Until she asks:

“Baby girl. Where’s your coat?”