#and now I can’t take a shower and my whole job is holding a baby so my arm is sore 😔

[sickgraymeat]

Fucked up how I know taking a shower would solve all my problems and perhaps every problem in the history of the universe but I can’t take a real shower bc I can’t get my bandage wet 😢

[fastandcarlos]

Wholesome Weekends : ̗̀➛ Alex Albon

summary: a rare weekend away brings some quality time for alex and y/n to make a few more memories

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant and 90,486 others

ynusername: making the most of the next few days with you, can’t wait to have you to myself for the whole weekend ❤️

8,391 comments

alex_albon: can’t wait to spend every day waking up next to you

username1: my heart can’t take how cute these two are

username2: do we get to see alex’s pov of photo 1??

logansargeant: can’t wait to hear all about your trip ☺️

landonorris: can you stop making all us single people feel even more lonely please

ynusername: @/landonorris maybe one day you’ll find your own alex albon too 😂

username3: can’t wait for the spam to start

username4: have you ever seen a guy more in love 🤔

carmenmmundt: promise to compare trip notes in miami next week?

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt yessssss! hope you and george have the best time 🩷

username5: we want to hear all about the trip too!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 483,300 others

alex_albon: adventuring with my girl…could life get any better? ✈️

48,102 comments

landonorris: you could be adventuring with me instead 🤷🏻

alex_albon: @/landonorris my question was if life could get better, not worse 😂

username6: lando forever getting rinsed as the single friend lmao

username7: if you’re ever looking for a third wheel…I’m here 👋🏻

ynusername: i definitely don’t think my life could get any better my love 🥰

alex_albon: @/ynusername ❤️❤️❤️❤️

oscarpiastri: don’t forget to visit that cafe I suggested!

username8: oh to fly anywhere in the world with alex albon 🫠

username9: y/n forever getting those perfect boyfriend angles of alex

danielricciardo: these photos are almost alex.jpg worthy bro

alex_albon: @/danielricciardo inspired by the best 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 738,595 others

alex_albon: first things first, a quick pit stop to visit our babies 🥺🩷

78,499 comments

maxverstappen1: now this is my kinda content!!

username10: alex + cats = the perfect photo

username11: I want to be held just like how alex holds his babies

oscarpiastri: you look happier to see the cats then they do you 😂

alex_albon: @/oscarpiastri they were just posing for the camera 📸

username12: I love how they still prioritise the cats and shower them with so much love

ynusername: I didn’t want to move with all their cuddles 😭

username13: can you adopt me like you adopt all your fur babies??

estebanocon: how have you never introduced me to these cuties before 😣

username14: okay but who has cuter cats…max or alex?

alex_albon: @/username14 🙋🏽🙋🏽🙋🏽

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 103,853 others

ynusername: I’d let you take me anywhere as long as I’m with you ☺️

22,939 comments

landonorris: eurgh enough with the soppy posts now

ynusername: @/landonorris you’ve got a whole weekend of this to enjoy my friend ☺️

username15: the holding hands, I repeat, the holding hands

alex_albon: the feeling is mutual babe 💕

username16: idek which of those photos has the better view

logansargeant: two hands on the wheel at all times, did you learn nothing from your driving instructor??

alex_albon: @/logansargeant you saw nothing, my hands are on 10 and 2 always 😂

username17: not logan scolding alex like he’s the perfect driver

username18: ultimate passenger princess mode activated

charles_leclerc: how come you’ve never offered to drive me around like this?

alex_albon: @/charles_leclerc I’ll hold your hand whenever you want sweet cheeks

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 628,940 others

alex_albon: exploring with my favourite is an exhausting job but I wouldn’t have it any other way 🥰

63,493 comments

username19: pls lord let me have a boyfriend as sweet as alex

danielricciardo: you’re giving us high performing athletes a bad name sitting down on the job 😂

alex_albon: @/danielricciardo ever been a walk with y/n before?? she’s like a machine 😅

username20: I never want this weekend of photos to end

username21: y/n are you willing to loan alex out to a single gal pls?

pierregasly: damn make sure you get those leg muscles flexing brother

logansargeant: don’t let the boss see you sat down and relaxing 😉

alex_albon: @/logansargeant this is harder work than anything we do I swear

username22: they’re just everything

username23: these photos are making my heart so happy

ynusername: hurry up and catch up with me loser rather than posting on instagram 🏃🏻‍♀️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 93,504 others

ynusername: to anyone from williams looking at our weekend, I promise I’m still working him hard 💪🏻

9,408 comments

username24: you’re not convincing anyone y/n 😂

username25: poor alex never truly gets a day off

landonorris: what exercises were you doing? a lot of staring I imagine

ynusername: @/landonorris mind your damn business 🤫

username26: who knew gym alex was so attractive 😅

username27: if you ever need a workout buddy alex, I’ll sign up for free

alex_albon: best workout partner ever 🤩

maxverstappen1: true dedication to the job there buddy

carmenmmundt: george had me in the gym this morning too 😅 the perks of dating an f1 driver

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt usually I’d complain…but the sights I got to see this morning were pretty cool 🫠

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 548,605 others

alex_albon: like any good weekend plenty of food has been demolished ❤️

47,963 comments

ynusername: as handsome as you are…that food was something else ☺️

alex_albon: @/ynusername agreed!! thanks @/oscarpiastri for the recommendation

oscarpiastri: @/alex_albon I knew you guys would love it

username28: now that’s the smile of a guy who knows his food

username29: how is everyone sleeping how cute y/n looks in that photo

lance_stroll: wherever this is dude you need to tell me!

charles_leclerc: you gonna make weight in miami after consuming that?? 😂

alex_albon: @/charles_leclerc honestly its touch and go

username30: I love how much of a foodie alex is…a guy after my own heart

yukitsunoda0511: I still need to cook for you guys! I’ll show you a proper meal

alex_albon: @/yukitsunoda0511 that’s an offer that I could never say no to 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo and 78,390 others

ynusername: sun, sea and 🤫, the perfect end to the perfect weekend ☺️💕

29,503 comments

danielricciardo: now that’s my kinda caption 😂

username31: y/n wtf I thought you were better than this

landonorris: I really hope you’re not implying what I think you’re implying

username32: farewell to y/n’s pg era

yukitsunoda0511: someone might have to fill me in here 😣

username33: @/yukitsunoda0511 no don’t let anyone take your adorable innocence from you

alex_albon: thank you for the most incredible weekend bub 💕

alex_albon: ps thank you for making my back look insane in all these photos 🔥

ynusername: @/alex_albon I did nothing…you can thank my handsome model 🥰

username34: how can two people be so beautiful

iamrebeccad: my girl you are looking insane 🔥

logansargeant: nice to see all that time in the gym paying off 😂

username35: @/logansargeant doesn’t sound like they’re just working out in the gym either

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 179,493 others

ynusername: and it all got too much for little alex albon 💤

37,592 comments

georgerussell63: hahahahahah y/n you’re the best!!

oscarpiastri: and the award for best caption goes to…

username36: not y/n exposing herself for watching f1 memes 😂

landonorris: why you gotta do me dirty like this 💔

ynusername: @/landonorris stop being a walking meme then loser

alex_albon: thank you for making sure you capture all my flattering angles 😂🩷

ynusername: @/alex_albon 🫡🫡🫡

logansargeant: idk which I prefer the photos or the caption

username37: this is hands down my fave photo from the weekend

username38: y/n and alex forever making lando feel single is the best

danielricciardo: y/n stop! you’re coming across funnier than me 🥺

ynusername: @/danielricciardo I could never steal your crown king 👑

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[beenbaanbuun]

hi bunny! <33 i wanted to ask if you could do a little fic of how the ateez boys (specifically jjong) would be like during aftercare ❤️ after a rougher session— i’m in need of comforty cute stuff rn lmao 😭 no pressure ofc! luv u bun bun 🫶

aftercare w/ateez

hongjoong

i feel like hongjoong is very prepared for aftercare, especially if he knows in advance that it’s going to be a rougher session

like he already has a glass of water and a snack bar on the nightstand ready to go

coos and praises you as he breaks the bar into tiny pierces and slides them between your lips with his fingers

will absolutely force you to pee and shower once he thinks you’ve got your energy up enough to walk to the bathroom

stays with you the whole time you pee, and slides into the shower beside you to wash your hair

unlike some of the others i don’t believe that the shower will to anything else because hongjoong has a modicum of self control and can see you naked without going feral…

seonghwa

seonghwa’s first instinct is to go and grab a washcloth from the bathroom so he can wipe down the mess between your legs

of course, while he’s in the bathroom, he kills two birds with one stone and begins to draw a bath for you

wipes down your sticky skin with the warm cloth, all while whispering praises

‘i know you’re sensitive but you’re being such a good girl by letting me clean you! just a little more and it’ll be over, my darling.’

once you’re somewhat clean he guides you to the bathroom and helps you into the bath before going to chance the sheets

comes back the second they’re changed and in the washer so he can sit on the side of the tub and watch you with a pretty smile

yunho

cuddly boy!!

will literally just hold you to his chest and stroke his hand up and down your spine while the two of you return your breathing to normal

isn’t so fussy about the ‘clean’ aspect of it all, but will definitely make you go pee because we do not want any UTI’s in this house!

and once you’re finished peeing, he just ticks you back into his nice strong arms and lets you fall to sleep in his grasp

he trusts you enough to know that you’ll tell him if you need anything else; water, a snack, all that jazz

he also knows you enough to know that is so incredibly rare that you’ll want anything other than him and his warm cuddles

because let’s be real, lying on top of yunho with your head tucked into his neck and his long arms holding you in place is actually the best feeling in the world

yeosang

you know my thoughts on yeosang’s sex style so i also have to assume that he takes his job of aftercare very seriously

it’s half a guilt thing because baby boy went so hard that now he has to take care of you; he needs to know that you’re okay and he didn’t do too much

he starts by wiping you down and you’re guaranteed to be oversensitive, but he just shushes you and tells you how well you’re doing

ideally he’d like you to shower, but you’re too boneless right now and he doesn’t want to leave you for long enough to run a bath

and when he’s all done cleaning you up, he’ll hold a straw to your mouth, watching you as gulp down the water he brought you

i can see him needing his own validation as well so he asks you plenty of questions

did he go to far? did you like it when he did that one thing? were you having as much fun as he was? he really is desperate to know that you were having a good time

san

san is so fucking clingy that from the moment he goes soft, he will not let you out if his sight

he won’t send you to the bathroom yourself with promises of cuddles when you get back; why would he when he can follow you in there to hold your hand while you pee?

and while you’re in the shower you better let this man wash your hair, your body, your face, anything he can, unless you want him to pout

sits you on the toilet seat while he brushes your teeth; it’s cute but you can’t help but feel shy as he holds your jaw and looks down at you

and then when he’s sure you’re squeaky clean and happy, he bundles you up in his arms and drags you back to bed with him

from which there will be no escape, by the way; if you even dream about getting out of bed, san will be pouting and complaining

mingi

i like to think that he puts his mind, body and soul into sex, so he’s probably just as tired as you when it’s over

ideally, he’d just like to stay in bed with you, but he knows you have to replenish yourself, so he sets you little tasks

“can you go get a wash cloth from the bathroom so i can wipe you down?”, “go piss, girl. i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

and you best believe that after every single task you complete, he’s praising you like you’ve just cured world hunger or something

lips pressed against yours, letting you know just how good you are for him and how proud he is of you for doing what he asks

it’s safe to say youre leave your submissive headspace any time soon, not when mingi has you in his grasp, whispering sweet praises in your ear

wooyoung

wooyoung likes to do everything for you and if he even catches you lifting a finger he will become the most annoying person to ever walk this earth

like he’ll be getting you a glass of water and he’ll come back to the bedroom to see you with a tissue between your legs and all he can thing is how dare you?

literally storms over and takes it away from you before continuing the job himself, muttering under his breath as he cleans you up

“you weren’t so independent when you were begging for my dick, hm?” he scowls, “you need me to fuck you properly, so what makes you think you don’t need to help you with this too?”

like honestly, he’s kind of mean with it but with his gentle touch and the tiny kisses that he’s pressing to your thighs, you know he isn’t actually mad

just being his regular wooyoung-ish self…

jongho

oh you think he’s a teddy bear? wrong; during aftercare you’re his teddy bear and there’s nothing you can do about it!

because he’s way too strong for you to escape from the grasp he has on you, no matter how much wriggling you do

it’s fine though, because jongho always keeps. a bottle of water by his bed and a few snacks in his drawer and a pack of baby wipes too

you literally don’t even have to move from his arms for him to take care of you; everything you need is right there!

of course when you tell him you need to use the bathroom he’s pouting, but then you tell him he can come with you and he’s happy again

he doesn’t consider the fact that he can’t squeeze you to death when you’re actually on the loo, so when he realises that he’s pouting again

literally clings to you the moment you stand up, wasting no time in dragging you back to bed for more cuddles

[alienguts]

Warm Welcome (Harley Quinn x f!Reader)

Summary: Harley’s back from Arkham and there’s only one thing she wants to do.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, F/F sex, cunnilingus, facesitting, fingering, just gals being pals 🔞

Request?: No

A/N: 🌈 gay shit here get your gay shit here 🌈

Five minutes. It took just five minutes after getting home for Harley to try to get Y/N into bed.

The whole car ride home from Arkham was torturous for her. All she wanted to do was for Y/N to stop the car and let her rip her clothes off, but she had to show at least some restraint. But when she’d been behind bars for almost a year with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn’t exactly be blamed for being a total horndog. She sat with her hands wedged between her knees for the 45 minutes it took to get home, her legs bouncing in excitement.

As soon as they got home and the front door to the apartment was locked, Harley pounced on Y/N, almost knocking her to the floor as she mashed her lips into hers. Y/N tried to keep her balance by throwing her hands out behind her, but she toppled over anyway, Harley following and crashing on top of her.

“Cool your jets, Harl!” Y/N said as she tried to wriggle out of Harley’s grasp. “We only just got home!”

“Six months, baby!” Harley whined. “I had to go six whole months without any action! The least you could do is let me fuck you now.”

“Not in the doorway! At least hold on until we can go to bed.”

Harley huffed and got off Y/N, letting her stand up. She’d just started to push her towards the bedroom when Y/N planted her feet firmly on the ground and her hands on Harley’s shoulders.

“Alright, now just wait a second, sweetie,” Y/N said, using the same tone she would with a hyperactive child. “You just got home after being away for so long. Just take a second to enjoy being home before jumping my bones.”

“But I haven’t seen you,” Harley said with a pout. “Or your titties.”

Y/N flushed and sighed deeply.

“Okay, but give me five minutes so we can put your stuff away.”

Harley grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet before kissing Y/N again.

“You’re an angel!” Harley said as she wrapped her arms around her. “I could do with a shower, my skin’s all dry from that nasty Arkham soap.”

“Take as much time as you need, I’ll still be here.”

When she’d finished putting Harley’s things back in their places, Y/N was ambushed by an overpowering smell of shower and bath products. Clearly, Harley didn’t mind what scents went with each other and just went for whatever she liked most. Y/N faced into the closet as Harley wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into her body, her hands roaming under her shirt until they cupped each of her breasts.

“Harley, is there a reason why you’re completely naked?” Y/N asked as Harley started to kiss her neck.

“I just got outta the shower,” Harley purred into her skin and pushed her fingers underneath Y/N’s bra. “And I want to play with my girl.”

“Can’t I at least take my clothes off first?” Y/N said, her breath shuddering as she relaxed back into Harley’s body.

“But that’s my job,” she said as she caught her hard nipples between her fingers. “Taking the wrapping off is just as fun as what’s inside.”

Y/N whimpered and grabbed at Harley’s arms, feeling her soft, newly moisturised skin and she let her head fall back onto her shoulder as she nipped at her neck.

“C’mon, babydoll, let’s have some fun.”

She let go of Y/N and turned her around to lead her to the bed, making sure she got a good view of her body. When she noticed her staring, she twirled around and fluffed her hair, showing her pale skin and slender curves from all angles.

“Like what ya see, sugar?” Harley purred, taking note of how Y/N’s eyes were fixated on her, trailing from her legs, her hips, her perky breasts, and up to her face.

Y/N swallowed and nodded, her mouth too dry to say anything while the space between her legs started to throb. Harley sat on the mattress with her legs wide, her bare pussy exposed as she grabbed Y/N’s hand and guided her to stand between her legs.

“Can I take this off, honey?” she asked as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. Y/N nodded and let her pull it up and over her head, standing up again to throw it to the other side of the room before immediately removing her bra. “I definitely want this off.”

Y/N shivered slightly when the air hit her bare skin, her nipples hardening even more as her skin burned under Harley’s gaze. Harley bit her lip and groaned softly as she reached out to caress her breasts with both hands, rolling them in her palms and softly squeezing them before kissing each one.

“God I missed these girls so much,” she said, her voice muffled by the soft skin of Y/N’s breasts. “But you’re still wearing too many clothes.”

Y/N pushed her sweatpants down to the floor and wriggled her legs free of them without needing to move away from Harley, leaving her in just her panties. Just as Harley dipped her fingers into the waistband, she stopped and admired the cotton garment.

“These are so cute!” she cooed and grabbed her hips to turn her around so her back was facing her. “Bend over a second.” 

Y/N was confused but did as she was told, bending her torso down slightly as Harley sat down again. Just as she looked back to see what she was doing, she felt Harley pinch and smack her behind, making her squeak and almost lose her balance.

“Harley,” she whined impatiently as Harley rested her head on her lower back, caressing her behind and squeezing, just as she’d done with her breasts.

“You look good in these, baby,” Harley purred as she pulled away. “But they’ll look even nicer on the floor.”

Y/N couldn’t help how hard her pussy clenched at her words. For as distracted and silly as she could be in the bedroom, Harley knew exactly how to get her girlfriend in the mood. She said things that would sound corny coming from anybody else but that was exactly what she loved about her.

“C’mere,” Harley said and patted the mattress between her legs. “But leave those on.”

Y/N climbed into Harley’s lap, her legs on either side of her and her arms loosely wrapped around her shoulder. She could feel her cool breath on her warm skin, their faces just centimetres apart and their chests pushing together. Harley stroked Y/N’s back softly, tracing the notches of her spine with her fingertips and dipping them into the waistband of her panties.

“I really missed you, y’know,” she said softly. “Like, a lot.”

“I missed you too,” Y/N said in return, smiling warmly. She squeaked in surprise when Harley closed the gap between them, her soft lips on hers, caressing and drinking her in as she pulled her body closer and closer until she fell back onto the mattress, Y/N still on top of her.

Y/N eagerly returned her kiss and cradled Harley’s face in her hands, her eyes fluttering closed as warmth spread throughout her body, starting at her core and ending at her fingertips. Her lips parted slightly to let Harley slip her tongue between them, tasting her sweet mouth as Y/N tangled her fingers in her hair. She moved her hands down further to cup her behind and dipped her fingers under her panties, feeling her pooling arousal. Y/N whined against her lips when she felt her fingers circle her throbbing clit and broke off the kiss to catch her breath.

Without missing a beat, Harley trailed her kisses down Y/N’s neck and collarbones and moved her hands to underneath her breasts, squeezing and pinching them to make her whine and moan.

“Lie down, honey,” she said. “I want to play with these.”

Y/N got up and shuffled up the bed to lie down, her head resting on the pillow and her legs spread wide for Harley to lie between. She watched her as she crawled up her body, a wolfish expression on her face as she laid her face on her sternum between her breasts.

“God, I really missed these girls,” she purred into her skin before kissing softly.

“More than me?” Y/N teased as she ran her fingers through Harley’s hair.

“Of course not,” Harley said and nuzzled her face into Y/N’s warm skin. “I missed all of you.”

“I missed you too,” Y/N said, her breath hitching when Harley brushed her lips over her hard nipple.

She let her body relax into the mattress as Harley laved her tongue across her sensitive skin, teasing her nipple with the tip of her tongue before taking it into her mouth and sucking gently. Harley used her free hand to fondle the other breast, rolling it around in her palm and squeezing before teasing the nipple with her fingers. She could feel herself getting wetter as she played with her soft breasts and she had a good feeling that Y/N was too.

Harley switched her attention to Y/N’s other breast, leaving wet kisses and licking the nipple before taking it into her mouth and sucking again. She listened to how Y/N moaned softly as she played with her hair, running her nails through her roots and playing with the faded colours at the ends. Her hand trailed down Y/N’s body as she continued to worship her breasts, skimming over her stomach until it reached her sopping pussy.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Harley purred, her teeth grazing against Y/N’s nipple. “You’re gonna ruin these cute panties. How ‘bout I take ‘em off?”

“Please,” Y/N whined, pushing her hips into Harley’s hand.

Harley let go of her nipple and crawled back down her body, settling herself between her spread legs, her face eye level with her dripping cunt. She ran her fingers along the crotch of her panties, delighting in how her arousal had soaked through the cotton. Y/N moaned at the contact and her pussy clenched, as if it was begging Harley to fuck her.

“You really must have missed me if you’re this desperate,” Harley teased before kissing her clit over the wet fabric. She licked her arousal off of her lips and let out a short moan. ��You taste good, honey. But I want the main course, not just an appetiser.”

If she wasn’t so pent up, Y/N would have made a comment about Harley being corny in bed. She’d been without a girlfriend for half a year so she was willing to let her be as corny and stupid as she wanted as long as it meant she’d get her pussy eaten.

It felt like an eternity had passed when Harley finally pulled Y/N’s panties down her legs and tossed them aside. She gently kissed along the insides of her thighs, teasing her until Y/N whined in frustration and tugged on her hair.

“C’mon, Harl, I thought you’d been waiting months for this,” she said as she tried to push Harley’s face into her cunt.

“Okay, okay!” Harley laughed before kissing her bare clit. “So impatient.”

Her tongue finally snaked out to run through Y/N’s wet folds, gathering her arousal as she made her way back to her clit. Y/N sighed in pleasure and let her head fall back onto the pillow as Harley worked wonders with her mouth, licking and sucking her sensitive skin at a leisurely pace. Pillow princess had never been an appropriate title, but Y/N was more than happy to let Harley call the shots and do anything she wanted with her body.

“You taste good, babydoll,” Harley mumbled into her pussy. “Definitely worth the wait.”

A moan crawled out of Y/N’s throat when she felt Harley tease her entrance with two of her fingers and slowly slide them inside. She kept her fingers still for a moment, letting her adjust to them before gently sliding them in and out of her, building up the pleasure and making her sweet spot swell.

Harley was getting wetter and wetter as Y/N’s arousal coated her tongue and fingers, the only thought in her head was being able to taste her and make her scream. She squeezed her legs together, trying to feel some friction, and watched as Y/N squirmed and moaned above her.

“You can’t be gettin’ close already, baby,” she purred as she started to curl her fingers into her sweet spot. “We’ve only just started.”

Y/N’s stomach was tying itself into knots as Harley worked her body into a frenzy, her clit twitching under her tongue and her pussy clenching around her fingers. A fire was spreading through her body despite the slow pace and she wanted nothing more than to trap Harley’s head between her thighs as she sucked her clit and finger fucked her pussy.

“Harley, I’m close,” Y/N said, her voice strained from keeping her moans at bay.

“Already?” Harley teased. She pulled her soaking fingers out and teased her clit with them as she lifted her head to watch Y/N writhe in frustration. Her mouth and chin were coated with her arousal, shining in the sunlight that streamed in through the window. “Want me to make you cum, sweet thing?”

“Harley, please,” Y/N begged, trying to push her head back down. Harley laughed and slid her fingers back into her desperate pussy.

“Anything you want, princess.”

Harley immediately set a faster pace, curling her fingers into Y/N’s sweet spot firmly and sucking on her clit harshly. She had planned on taking her time with Y/N and slowly bringing her to climax, but the way her body was reacting said otherwise.

Moans and cries flew from Y/N’s mouth as Harley stirred her body up, her nerves blazing and her climax fast approaching. She planted her hands on the back of Harley’s head and mashed her face into her dripping cunt as she begged her to keep going.

“Cum for me, baby,” Harley said, her voice muffled by her pussy. “Cum on my tongue, I wanna taste it.”

Y/N’s head fell back as pleasure washed over her, engulfing her and drawing all of the air out of her lungs. Her chest heaved and her hips bucked as Harley continued to draw her orgasm out of her, her breaths finally coming out in cries and moans until her body went limp and calm.

Once her body had completely calmed down, Harley pulled her fingers out of Y/N’s spent cunt and cleaned them off with her fingers, moaning when her taste hit her tongue again. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and crawled back up the bed to hover over Y/N and press her lips to hers, making her taste herself.

“I missed your taste,” Harley whispered against Y/N’s lips as Y/N cupped her perky behind with her hands.

“I wanna taste you,” Y/N said, her voice hoarse from moaning so much.

“You okay to stay where you are?” Harley asked. Y/N nodded, her body too boneless to do much else. “Good, cos I wanna sit on this pretty face of yours.”

Y/N swallowed and licked her lips as Harley placed her knees on either side of her head and lowered her wet pussy down onto her mouth. Her arousal immediately hit her tongue and flooded her mouth with her taste. Y/N ran her flattened tongue across Harley’s folds and clit, tasting her as if she was a sweet treat before paying more attention to her clit. She fluttered the tip of her tongue against the sensitive bud, making Harley writhe against her mouth.

“Don’t tease, baby,” Harley whined as she tried to smother Y/N with her pussy.

“You always tease me,” Y/N said, her voice muffled as she continued to pleasure her with her tongue. “It’s only fair that I tease you back for once.”

Harley huffed and grabbed hold of the headboard before grinding her core against Y/N’s mouth, making her flatten her tongue and keep her head still for her to ride. The bed creaked with every roll of her hips and the slack headboard knocked against the wall but neither of them seemed to care very much. They didn’t have neighbours to get mad at them and the bedroom was on an outside wall so they could make as much noise as they liked.

Harley certainly seemed determined to be as loud as she wanted. Moans and cries flew from her lungs as Y/N continued to lick and suck her, running her hands along her thighs and groping her ass as she drove her into a frenzy. She figured that Harley must have gone through her entire sentence without even touching herself since she could tell that she was already close.

“Y/N,” Harley moaned shamelessly. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Y/N wrapped her lips around Harley’s clit and sucked hard, her hands firmly holding her hips to keep her in place. She let her eyes drift closed and felt Harley grab her head, running her nails along her scalp as her arousal coated her face and her clit twitched in her mouth.

Breathlessly, Harley came into Y/N’s mouth, her cunt clenching and unclenching before her hips bucked wildly and she let her breath out in a loud cry. She gasped and panted as Y/N continued to lick her through her high, bringing her back down slowly and gently by stroking her skin and kissing her spent pussy until she’d caught her breath again.

With one final pleasured sigh, Harley lifted herself off Y/N’s face and moved around to flop down on top of her as she wiped her mouth clean, her face resting between her breasts. She could hear her thudding heartbeat through her chest and let herself be fully enveloped by Y/N’s warmth. 

They stayed like that for a moment, listening to each other breathe as the city continued to move outside. Y/N could have sworn that Harley was starting to fall asleep on her chest when she suddenly lifted herself up and shuffled up to kiss her. Harley’s lips were soft against hers, kissing her leisurely rather than crazed and desperate as she had when they first got home.

“I missed you,” Harley said against Y/N’s mouth before kissing her again.

“You already told me that,” Y/N said with a laugh. “Like, three times.”

“Well, that’s just how much I missed you!” Harley said as she pulled away.

“I missed you too, Harl,” Y/N said and pulled Harley back into her body, her arms tight around her as if she never wanted to let her go. “Just stay out of trouble this time.”

“I can’t make any promises, sugar,” Harley said. “But I’ll try for you.”

[kthecutest]

hi yūka! i hope you're doing fine ♡ could i request a headcanon about husband!k? soft and hard thoughts if possible 🤭 thank you!

·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙　Husband ! Kei　.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　‪♡　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

Pairing : Husband!k x Wife!f!reader Genre : SFW & NSFW (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ 🥕 A/N ೃ⁀➷ New Year gift for my lovelies ₊˚⊹♡

⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Soft Thoughts °𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

Morning Routines : First of all, let’s start with morning routines. Before you both decided to tie the knot, Ej always warned you, “Gurlie, if you get married to this man, the job of waking him in the morning – it’s yours now” and well you never took it seriously. Until now that is, “Kei! C’mon! wake uppp! Your manager is blowing up the phoneee!!!” your yelling is doing barely any damage to your half-asleep husband who’s still squirming and fidgeting around in his bed. “Honey.. five more..” – “no no! No five more! Wake uppp you sleepy head!” Probably would have to drag Kei’s huge frame straight out of bed and push him into the bathroom, shoving a toothbrush into his mouth.

Clingy Texts : And then there’s the ‘sending you texts 24/7’ phrase that your husband has started since your dating days. You’re on your laptop, not that you’re focused or anything but obviously! You cannot focus at all – when your phone’s notis kept blowing up non-stop. And you know who it is – no hints needed – “Babyy, have you had your lunch? – Kei” – “Hun, how’s the work going? Missinggg you – Kei” And you can’t even complain honestly cuz he’s just the absolute sweetest to the point that you’d melt just looking at Kei’s messages. No matter how busy he is, he always texts you, and no matter how busy you are, you check and reply to his messages without being annoyed even for a bit. Your husband may not be the most expressive when in the eyes of the public, but you know more than anyone else how much this man treasures you.

Back from Work : Then, there’s the clingy big baby phase of Kei as soon as he gets back home and gets to cling onto his wife. “Loveee! Guess who’s back!”, you’re already waiting at the front door with your arms out, ready to give your beloved husband a warm welcoming hug. Kei would run into your arms immediately even picking you up into the air with his arms alone at times cuz your huge husband just can’t control his strength. “Eww.. you better take a shower before you come to bed”, obviously you were holding back your laughter trying to act tough and strict with him especially when he gives you those puppy doe eyes. “Awwe I see I see my baby doesn’t like me being sweaty, butttt….” – “buttt…?” – “You’re coming with me AHA!”, yeet, up you go on his shoulder and you bet you’re gonna have to spend at least an hour in the shower again with this big puppy boi who can’t even shower on his own alone without his wife. “Yah!!! Kei! Ughhh!!”, Kei chuckled at your attempt of whines and complaints – I mean after all, if you really hate the idea, why would you wait for him every late evening without taking a shower, obviouslyyy just so you could join him in the shower, mhm mhm definitely can’t be coincidence.

Cooking : Next thing that comes to mind is …. FOOD. Kei just has everything to do with food; it’s either him cooking for you or you’re both in the kitchen with him nagging at your every failed attempt to make a proper dish. Obviously, you knew you could never compete to this mans and his cooking skills. Kei has been a brilliant chef his whole life basically, “At this point, I can’t tell if you’re the wife or I am”, your husband looks at you with a ‘I’m so done’ face. “Hey! No need with the flexs sir, ughhh just how do you make thissss?!!”, Ke would complain, but of course if there was to be someone who would run to your assist in a span of mini-seconds, that’s gotta be him.

Healthy Food : Anddd right, let’s not forget, Kei over here is a fricking DIETISIAN. This mans has been doing researches on healthy food since high school alright, and now that he’s sharing his cozy home with the love of his life, that means…. Shared salad bowls.. yea.. “Love- I know you like being healthy and all, and I know you care for me, buttttt can’t we get fried chicken instead, c’mon plsssss”, your sparkly doe eyes would work in any situation – except this one. “Uh huh, right, nope, hun salads are healthy for you and you’re gonna have it alright, end of discussion”, a salad bowl arrives in front of you available for instant consumption. Your husband just won’tttt let you off when it comes to healthy food mhm.

Exercise : There’s also the other half of the ‘keep his wife healthy’ agenda for Kei, because no matter how busy this poor mans can get, he would drag you out to take a jog with him in the park either in the morning (which rarely happens cuz he cannot wake himself up) and often in the evenings. You’re the type of be on your laptop all day; which your husband does NOT like at all, cuz he wants you to be active and healthy just like him. You’d whine and complain to stay at home cuz you’re too lazy to touch the grass and fresh air outside but it won’t make much of a difference when Kei yeets you up his shoulder and carried your struggling frame out the house. During the jog, you’d even look at Kei with widened eyes like ‘how tf is this mans still jogging faster than you effortlessly after a long day at work!?!?’ – Kei and his monster stamina is just built different.

Dates : You both barely ever get any free moments to go on a full-on date and all, but that doesn’t stop you two from arranging small dates in every given opportunity. Mostly, it’d probably be something like star gazing. It’s 10 p.m.; Kei’s only gotten back home just now, guess he was pulling a longer shift today at the practice room but you’re a bit surprised to find a wide grin plastered across his face instead of his normal whiny and clingy self. “Babe, there’s something I gotta show you”, his tone is excited like no other and he’s practically almost dragging you out the front door, in a rush, at this point. And then you two would end up at a small high-land hill in a pretty quiet park, who would have known, there’s already a cropped picnic blanket set up with a few snacks and cozy blanket. Kei looked at you with a look of nervousness, obviously it wasn’t an actual picnic or a star gaze experience or anything- but poor Kei didn’t have the time to go all out. And well, you notice it. “Baby, it’s amazing! Ah!! I’m so happy!”, giving him a warm reassuring hug. Kei would probably even tear up from your gesture but would end up sniffling and acting all big and touch like “I- I’m not crying! You are.” – with a pout. Gosh who could ever hate him, he’s too precious. You  both would spend the rest of the night tighter, under a night sky full of stars, would probably trace the constellations until you both fell asleep to each other’s voices.

Competition : Whether it’s just a small card game or a game you two have chosen at an arcade, this mans will NOT give in, Kei is probably the most competitive person you’ve seen, and wife or not, mans have no intention to give up his position of first place. You’ll only ever get a small chance of taking the win if you could whine and plead with puppy eyes for the first place from your husband. Obviously, he wouldn’t be passing the thrown in just a few pleads but once you started sniffling, you know for a fact his character’s gonna break. Kei just can’t watch you get hurt in any way or form even worse if it’s coming from him. This factor also adds on to how gentle he would treat his wife when competing against you in games.

Cuddles : Cuddles are random between you two. It could be anywhere, anytime, anyhow. You could literally be busy in the kitchen, cooking up a storm for a plate of dinner, your beloved husband who rushed back home from work early would give you a backhug. “K?! Aish, you should have alerted me love~” You pouted complaining as you kept your hands busy. “Aww but surprises are more fun~” He whined back in response, nuzzling his head on your nape, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and torso. Sometimes, if it’s not for the case of surprises, it’d be a warm cozy hug you two share on the couch while something plays on the TV or you working on your laptop with a clingy kangaroo stuck to you.

Kisses : Kisses are mostly just friendly pecks on the lips, accompanied by cozy cuddles. Though, sometimes it does get heated pretty quickly, tongues slipping through lips, teeth clashing and all but if you two wanted to put a stop to the situation from escalating, then you could. You and K aren’t some high-school love birds no more and are properly wedded couple so you each are aware of your own self-control. But of course, K always have the upper-hands and at times, your teases would do no damage to him but his teases would get you all riled up.

Hard Thoughts °‪♡⭒๋࣭ ⭑⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

Kitchen counter : LINK

Visitation hours : LINK

Stress Relief : LINK

Breeding hours : LINK

⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

[boldlyvoid]

Bigger than the Whole Sky | Part two: from Neverland to Wonderland

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: she went from dreaming about a life where she was a mom and she's loved and appreciated for who she is... to actually being appreciated, being really, truly loved and a mom of not just the baby Aaron has helped her make, but Jack as well.

Warnings: canon typical violence, description of a case including torture, starvation and murder, Aaron gets shot in the arm, hostage situation, knife tw, needle tw. step-mom reader, dad hotch, Day dates with Jack.

(18+) multiple smut scenes, Shower sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampies, pregnancy tests, high emotions, anxiety attacks, crying

word count: 10.4k

Fic Masterlist

Everyone is already waiting on the plane when Aaron and Y/N finally arrive, they quickly hand their bags to the attendant and board the jet while trying to act like they weren’t madly in love with each other. 

“Don’t you look nice,” JJ catches it first, noticing Hotch is in a tux instead of his normal suit and Y/N’s in a stunning light blue dress. 

“Thanks,” she quickly brushes it off and takes the seat across from JJ, closer to the window while Hotch takes the aisle spot right beside Y/N. “We were celebrating my divorce being finalized.” 

“Oh, congrats,” Derek reaches over to give her a high five. “What’s it like to be a free woman again?” 

She just sighs as she relaxes back into her chair, “I wouldn’t know we barely got 3 bites into our dinner when the call came in.” 

“Sorry to ruin your date…” Reid teases from his seat. 

“It’s okay, we’ll have more, “Y/N can’t help but smirk. 

“Wait…” JJ’s eyes gleamed, “you’re not together, are you?” 

Aaron and Y/N stare at each other with similar smirks, “I don’t know, are we?” She asks. She knew they shared a wonderful kiss and they both admitted to loving the other, but they never got that far. 

Aaron just nods, reaching out to hold her hand over the armrest. “We weren’t going to tell you but—

“Leave it to the room of profilers to know everything,” Y/N teases. 

“We can keep it a secret,” Derek announces, knowing the other two would agree.

“Keep what a secret?” Penelope makes herself known on the little jet TV.

Y/N simply lifts her hand up, bringing Aaron's hand up with her own. “us.” 

“Oh, my god?” Penny can’t believe it. “I knew this was going to happen, but holy crap-ola!” 

“At first it was just nice having a friend and pissing Peter off but… but now I can’t imagine a life without being this close to Aaron,” she shares, unable to wipe the smile off her face. 

“How are we going to make this work?” JJ is the one to ask the serious question. “We can’t have our emotions compromised on the job… we worked 1 case with Will and I was a complete mess, how are you going to handle it?”

“Uh… well, I was thinking Y/N could report to Derek and when it comes to making decisions in the field I’ll take orders from him if she’s compromised,” Aaron admits. “If we file our fraternization paperwork, that’s what Cruz would have us do anyway.” 

“I’m fine with that,” Derek doesn’t mind taking on that responsibility. “But you’ve gotta listen, I’m not going to be able to hold you back like I did with scrappy little Jenny from the block, over here.” 

“Hey, I’m scrappy 'cause you taught me how to fight,” JJ reminds him. 

“You’ve always been scrappy,” Spencer teases.

“Excuse me,” the pilot announces from the doorway of the cockpit. “We’ll be taking off shortly, do we have everyone?” 

“We do, thank you,” Aaron confirms, giving them the go-ahead for takeoff. 

“Speaking of, are we ever going to hire someone new? It was nice having Emily back for that one case a few months back, but, we need someone.” Derek asks, “And I’m still fine taking over for Dave now that he’s gone… but we need someone to take my spot and Emily’s.” 

“I know,” Aaron sighs. “I’ve been looking over applications, no one seems right, yet.” 

“I have to agree… I’ve been stalking the applicants,” Penelope admits. “We need to persuade Emily to come home for good.” 

“I’ve been trying,” JJ rolls her eyes. “But she loves Interpol, she’s having the time of her life travelling the world. This week she was in Egypt catching—” 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we have another abduction,” Penelope announces. “I think we should switch to talking about our case…” 

“Agreed,” Aaron says, letting go of Y/N’s hand and reaching for the files.

—

The case is an interesting one. 

Small, blonde women between the ages of 19 and 23 are being abducted, and held for 2 to 3 days, only to be dumped at Reaves Park in Norman, Oklahoma when they succumb to their injuries. They’re not sexually assaulted, however, they are brutally beaten, starved and dehydrated before being stuffed into cardboard boxes and left in the park. They’re found in common areas, the footpath, the playground, and even the softball diamond. Clearly on display but still discarded like trash.

It takes them a few days and one more murdered woman to figure out what’s happening, and when they do, they discover it’s a female unsub. It’s rare, but not a surprise when there’s no sexual aspect. She’s seeking revenge for all the time someone “prettier” and “skinnier” than she was picked over her in her life. She’s suffering from severe psychosis, she believes by torturing them like this she’ll feel better but the more she does it, the harder it is to stop.  

Putting them in boxes was the way Reid came to figure it all out. The boxes have serial numbers on the bottom flaps which Penelope traced back to an Amazon shipping warehouse in Stillwater, Oklahoma. The serial numbers on the boxes they have recovered all belong to a set of 20 which were bought and sold to a woman named Sarah Freeman and shipped to a P.O. Box also in her name. 

Sarah Freeman is the name of a woman who went to Oklahoma state university in 1998. Sarah was president of Cappa Delta Chi, one of the many sororities on campus. Not only was she in charge of the existing sorority members, she was also in charge of the pledges. Pledges are like nominees, they’ve applied to join the sorority but they’re only approved after a month of hazing. Hazing is just a term for the physical and psychological abuse each pledge is put through until only the strongest girls are left. Hazing is hard to go through, it’s even harder for the ones labelled as ugly ducklings… the girls who are bigger than a size 2, are typically non-white and anything but blonde. 

They interviewed Sarah, finding out that they not only starved their pledges for weeks because they weren’t a size 2… they made one specific pledge in ‘98 try, time and time again, to fit into a cardboard box without breaking the tape seams or ripping the cardboard to prove she was worthy. They made her do it at parties, in front of the fraternity brothers, and the other pledges, and they even made her sleep on top of a pile of broken boxes that she couldn’t fit into. 

Hence, why she now puts these women in boxes. Their final resting spot is one of complete humility, as well as a symbol of how she felt: sick and tired of trying to fit into society's idea of a perfect woman. 

This woman’s name was Nina Coleman. She’s their unsub. 

The only problem is that Nina Coleman hasn’t been seen by anyone in years. Her parents are dead, she doesn’t have siblings and her credit history seemingly stopped in 2003… then Penelope decided to run the name Sarah Freeman again, finding that there are 2 women with that name in Oklahoma. One who they interviewed, and is currently in police custody for her own safety and another, living in a run-down farmhouse just outside of Cleveland County. 

All 5 of them get suited up in their bulletproof vests and split up into 2 groups, Reid, JJ and Hotch are together in one and Y/N is partnered with Derek. It’s nerve-wracking, as every case is, but this feels even scarier than it should. She trusts her team immensely… it’s just hard watching Aaron enter the creepy farmhouse knowing that she’s taking the barn with Derek. She wants to protect him but she knows it’s smarter this way. 

Over the radio, Hotch announces that they’re inside, the first floor is clear and taking the basement. Derek says they’re still outside the barn, the perimeter is clear so they’re going in. She covers Derek's six, watching behind them in case the unsub is laying in wake and watching their every move. Derek kicks the barn door in, he checks both directions, “clear,” he whispers to Y/N. “I’ll go left, you go right, we’ll meet in the back?” 

“Got it,” she agrees, holding her gun and flashlight, she’s hyper vigilante of everything going on. She tiptoes around hay piles, she sees bloody footprints on the floor and she’s startled by a scarecrow hung on the wall with a metal stake… it’s so fucked up. 

In the distance, outside the barn and near the house, she hears 3 very familiar sounds. 

Gunshots. 

“Derek?” She calls out to him, “Did you hear that??” 

“Yeah!” He says, racing her to the barn door and back to the farmhouse. “HOtch!” He calls into the radio. “JJ? Reid!?” 

Nothing. 

They race to the house, through the kicked-in door and right down to the basement. JJ is on the floor, a bullet has grazed her leg, Hotch is bleeding from his arm and pinned up against the wall of the basement, knife to his throat and 2 guns by his feet… Reid, stands with his gun locked on the unsub, quietly trying to calm her, but it’s not working. 

She’s huge. Taller than Hotch, nothing but muscle and hatred, you can’t even really see him where he’s trapped. She’s so much more than they expected.

Both Y/N and Derek have their sights locked on her, slowly making their way down the last few steps, Y/N steps over JJ while Derek leans down to try and help her. One hand aims his gun, and the other works at getting his belt off so JJ can make a tourniquet and stop the bleeding. 

“Nina, Nina, please, we’re just here to make sure you’re okay!” Reid tries. 

“I’M NOT NINA!” 

“Sarah!” Y/N steps in, “You’re Sarah Freeman, we know that… Sarah, we just came because your sisters are worried about you. You never RSVP’d to the Cappa Delta Chi reunion newsletter and they thought maybe you were hurt.” 

Nina turns then, still holding the knife to Hotch but her face drops. She is full of concern and bewilderment at the same time, “they want me to come?” 

“Of course they do? You’re a former president, aren’t you, Sarah? You’re a legacy now, of course, they want you to come,” Y/N keeps her voice low and soft, she even lowers her gun and holsters it. “Can you let go of my friend Aaron?”

“But— but they called me Nina?” She says, gripping him tighter. 

“They were just confused, they thought Nina was going to hurt you, Sarah… Nina’s been hurting beautiful women just like you and that’s why everyone was worried, they thought Nina finally got the prettiest girl in all of Oklahoma,” she lies again, hoping to god that complying with ‘Sarah’s’ delusions would help them. 

“Oh,” she understands, dropping the knife she starts to back away from Aaron. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“So beautiful,” Y/N agrees, looking to Reid who agrees, even Aaron does. “See? Everyone here is just here to keep you safe… now, I actually spoiled the surprise, I feel so bad but… would you let us blindfold you and tie your hands behind your back so you can’t take it off, and we can take you to your surprise party at Cappa Delta Chi?” 

She nods like a child, giddy with joy. She puts her own hands behind her back and closes her eyes. Hotch reaches into his pockets for the cuffs and puts them on her pretty tight and then rips a part of his already torn sleeve off, using it to blindfold her. Once they get the cuffs on her, Derek radios for their backup to come down and then radios for an ambulance. 

“These nice friends of ours are going to escort you there, you’re going to have a police escort to the party,” Y/N continues to lie to her. 

They get her up the stairs and they pass her off to the local police just as the ambulance is rolling in. Y/N stops one of the EMTs, letting the other go down to JJ. “You’re going to have to sedate her,” she points to the unsub. “Once she knows she’s not going to a party she’s going to go crazy and she can overpower all of you.” 

“Got it,” the EMT says, heading back to the ambulance they get a vial of something and draw it into a needle. He follows Y/N to the ambulance and waits for the signal to inject her. 

“Sarah? It’s me, Y/N, you did so good getting into the car,” she points at the EMT and he jabs her. 

“What?! What are you— what… are…” and then she slumps forward. 

“There we go,” Y/N smiles, proud of herself. She closes the door and then taps the roof. “you’re good to take her to the station. Make sure they know she’s suffering from delusions and have a doctor present when they read her her rights.” 

The cops all nod, heading off while the other EMT races back into the house and down to JJ and Hotch. She runs then too, almost forgetting that Aaron was bleeding, she was so concerned with getting Nina away from him and now that she’s gone, she can freak out a little. 

Downstairs, Derek and Spencer are checking out the unsubs lair… it’s a lot creepier than they suspected. She took photos of everything, developed them herself and hung them on the walls. During the 3 days she had each woman, she’d make them get into different boxes. Some metal, some extra small… one that even resembles the chokey from Matilda. It’s horrific. But she’s been stopped. That’s all they can ever hope for. 

JJ gets help up the stairs and Hotch is just sitting on the bottom step, holding some bloody gauze to his arm, he’s going to probably need stitches when they get to the hospital. “Hey,” she makes her presence known as she sits beside him. “Are you okay?” 

“I think so?” He shrugs, not having a chance to look at himself… even when he’s covered in blood and his shirt is ripped up, he’s still the most handsome man in the world. 

She carefully lifts his chin to get a look at his neck, he has a couple small cuts from the blade and his arm is still bleeding. “Lift this up for me,” she says, taking his left hand and helping him lift his arm, “I don’t want you to bleed anymore, this will make it coagulate at the wound.” 

“Thanks, nurse,” Aaron teases her. “But really, you did an amazing job.” 

“Thank you… I knew she was delusional and she’s been living in a fantasy where she’s been making these pledges suffer, celebrating her was the only way she’d leave calmly,” Y/N explains with a shrug. “I really just wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

“I’m fine,” Aaron assures her, still holding his arm in the air. “I’m always coming home with you, remember?” 

She nods, “And me with you.” 

—

They get right on the plane after the case is wrapped, JJ wants to be home and not in a hotel room with her stitched-up leg and Aaron feels the same with his arm. Turns out, he wasn’t cut with the knife, a bullet grazed his arm as he pushed JJ down to the ground. Protecting JJ is what enraged the unsub and cause her to pin him to the wall… he was protecting a skinny, beautiful, blonde woman. Of course, it triggered her. 

She sits on Aaron's right side on the plane, she leans into his personal space and rests her head on his shoulder for most of the flight, she holds his hand too. She just wants to be close to him and never let him go. So when they land in the middle of the night, she makes him come home with her. 

She drives his SUV because he’s tired from the blood loss and the case in general. He’s pretty adorable when he’s this tired too. He cracks little jokes, tells her she’s beautiful and on the walk up to her house, he snuggles into her side only to cover her in kisses once they’re inside. He’s had to hold off on showing her affection for almost a week and he’s done pretending she isn’t the most kissable person in the world. 

“Okay, okay,” she giggles, gently pushing him back. “We have to go to sleep, you haven’t had a real rest in days… tomorrow we can spend the whole day making out, okay?” 

“Just making out?” 

Part of her can’t believe he said that and the other half really hopes he isn’t kidding. She looks up at him curiously, “are you sure you’re ready for that?” 

He nods, “Even if it’s just a few practice rounds… or we could start trying right away, I don’t mind either way.” 

“Is it even safe to get all your blood pumping like that when you have stitches in your arm?” She asks, more concerned about him than anything else. 

He shrugs, “We’ll see in the morning…” 

“Okay,” she smiles, happier than she’s been in a long time. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.” 

She gets him up the stairs and into her room, she helps him get his shirt off and runs her fingers down his chest to his stomach, taking it all in as she reaches for his belt. “Did you want to have a shower?” 

“Are you offering to help wash me?” Aaron teases. 

She nods, feeling a little shy as the prospect of seeing him naked gets more real. "I can…” 

“Do you want to?” 

“More than you know,” she mumbles, taking in a stuttered breath, she really wants to help. 

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” Aaron teases. 

“Always.” 

She takes him into the bathroom, she draws the shower curtain back and starts running the water all while Aaron pushes his dress pants to the floor and steps out of them. He takes a seat on the closed lid of the toilet and starts to pull off his socks while she works on the zipper of her dress to no avail. “Can you help?” She asks, making sure her hair is out of the way and her back is to him. 

“Mhm,” he hums, standing behind her he begins to unzip her dress. His free hand comes around to cup her stomach and once her dress is unzipped, he pushes the fabric to the side and presses a kiss to her back. 

He pulls her in closer and kisses her neck, breathing her in and taking it slow as the room fills with steam. He pushes her straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall to the floor and the hand that rested on her stomach makes its way up to cup her breast, over her bra. She can feel his excitement as he grinds against her… 

She tilts her head to the side and lets him kiss all the way up to her jaw, taking it all in, she closes her eyes and hums, “You feel so good.” 

“You’re so much softer than I imagined,” he admits. 

“I’ll just get softer after we get clean,” she teases, stepping away from him and turning to face him. “Come on, I can’t waste all this water.” 

She reaches behind her back and unclips her bra, slowly she slips the straps off her shoulders and tosses it to the ground. She watches his eyes drop down to her chest and then widen, “Wow…” 

“Your turn,” she teases, referencing down to the tent in his boxers and trying not to look too excited… 

“I take it you’ve been imagining things too?” He teases as he pushes his boxers down and watches her eyes travel down to his newly exposed skin. 

She just nods, “Uh-huh…” 

“Come on,” he steps closer to her, placing his hands on her hips and toying with the hem of her underwear, “what did you say about wasting water?” 

“I don’t care, Derek is still technically paying for it,” she quickly explains and lunges for his lips again. 

This kiss is messy and wet, his tongue is so warm against her own. He backs her up until her heels hit the lip of the shower and he catches her so that she doesn’t fall backwards, making them both laugh. He breaks the kiss just to keep kissing down her neck and chest until he’s dropping to his knees and kissing her stomach and feels up her legs. He takes ahold of her panties and pulls them down slowly, instead, covering her in more kisses in place of the fabric. 

He’s up close and personal with her most private area and yet she has no fear for once in her life. He helps her step out of her underwear and then his hands trace back up her legs and he cups her hips. He presses another kiss to her lower stomach, the part where she feels the most insecure most of the time… but not today. 

“You’re so beautiful… so, so beautiful,” he mutters against her skin between kisses. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant and kiss your belly a million more times as you grow our babies.”

She runs her fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his face and making him look up at her with his big brown doe eyes. “Then get up here and show me how a real man loves,” she whispers back. 

She gets him to his feet and into the shower, he sighs at the feeling of the warm water cascading over him. He tilts his head back into the stream, giving her the chance to press gentile kisses to the marks on his neck and trace her hands down his big arms. 

He wraps her up in said arms and spins them around so she has a chance to get wet… as if she wasn’t already. “I only have girly shampoos and stuff,” she says. 

“I don’t care,” he replies with one hell of a smile. “Smelling like you might actually make me sleep better.” 

She doesn’t argue with that, for one because she knows that when she can smell him, either on her clothes or when he’s sleeping next to her, she sleeps ten times better. And for 2… she’s pretty sure he uses the most boring “just for men” shampoo and body wash that this will feel like time at the spa for him. 

They lather each other up between stolen kisses and fits of giggles, getting to touch every inch of each other in such a caring manner is so new to her but she never wants it to become old. So many things with Peter lost their spark, and so many aspects of her life dwindled to darkness that she’s absolutely terrified to overdo it with Aaron. She takes her time, she takes it all in and she lets herself live in the happy moment, never knowing when it’s going to come to an inevitable end. 

He spins her around to wash her back he runs his soapy hands all over her, around to her stomach where he pulls her in close and grinds his cock against her ass. “I can’t take it anymore, you smell so fucking good I could eat you.” 

She giggles, “is it really safe to fuck in the shower?”

“Mhm,” he hums in her ear. His hands drop lower and rest over her pussy. “Do you want to?” 

“Please,” she says with a breath. 

She leans forward, bracing herself with her hands on the shower wall, giving Aaron the leverage to line his cock up with her from behind. He slips into her with a little stretch that makes her moan as she pushes back against him, taking him as deep as she could. 

“Holy fuck, Aaron,” she whines. “Split me in 2, why don’t you?” 

“Not my fault you’re so tight,” he teases. 

“It’s mine… it’s been too long,” she shares, straightening back up so her back is to his chest once again, she looks over her shoulder at him and catches him in a kiss. She reaches back to place her hand on his cheek, she moans into the kiss as he begins to thrust. His hand glides up to her breasts, massaging them gently, he keeps his other hand over her stomach and then he drops it lower. His middle finger slips between her pussy lips and starts to circle her clit, enhancing her pleasure tenfold. 

The sound of their wet skin clapping fills the room, she breaks the kiss to lean her head back on his shoulder, still holding his cheek in her hand when he goes back to kissing her neck. “you’re taking me so well, baby.” 

“Aaron,” she moans again, “I’m so close already…” 

“That’s okay to let go, baby,” he encourages her. 

Her nipples harden at the sound of his voice, he doesn’t miss a beat as he pinches and tweaks her pretty peeks. His tongue drags along her neck, up to her ear where he nibbles, he groans, feeling her flutter and tighten around him. “Finish with me.” He says it more as an order than a question. He wants to feel her finish as he pumps her full.

Her legs start to quake as her orgasm builds, he keeps her steady, holding her flush against his body with his large hand on her stomach. She feels the rush of pleasure course through her veins, she can’t help moaning out his name surrounded by obscenities, they echo around the room. Her orgasm washes over her just as he stills inside of her with a moan of his own. 

Lazily kissing her neck, his breathing is heavy but he can’t help himself from saying: “I love you, I love you so much, Y/N.” 

“I love you,” she’s able to reply, equally fucked out and spacey. Her eyes feel heavy, and her limbs feel weak. “Oh, my god…” 

“I know,” he mumbles against her, still covering her exposed skin in kisses. “And there’s more where that came from.” 

—

When she wakes up the next morning, she’s in her bedroom surrounded by sunlight and the feeling of Aaron beside her. His arm is draped over her stomach and the feeling of his breath on the back of her neck. He’s been tucked in behind her all night now, it’s her favourite way to sleep, feeling so calm and peaceful in his big strong arms. 

All of her, all of him, intertwined. The golden daylight shines down upon them like magic. A fresh page of a brand new fairytale, one that doesn’t know darkness, one that only knows love and happiness and peace. Forever and Always.

She snuggles back into her pillow and shuffles back into him more so that he tightens his grip on her. He presses a sleepy kiss to her shoulder and squeezes her tighter just like she wanted him to. “Morning,” she speaks softly, still groggy with sleep. 

“Morning,” he whispers into her ear before pressing another kiss behind it. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Better than I have in months,” she admits. “That’s a lie, I slept okay all this week in that hotel with you.” 

“Yeah, but in that hotel I couldn’t just slip into you,” he teases.

She shakes her head with a smile, teasingly, she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me before you’re so into doggy—

“I’m not,” he starts to laugh. “I’m just always behind you lately.” 

“Okay, then,” she turns around in his arms so she could face him. She hikes her leg over his hip and he rolls onto his back, bringing her on top of him. 

His hands roam her naked back all the way down to her butt where he grips her tight and smirks up at her, “You wanna try again?” 

She nods, “if it’s always as good as it was last night… I hope it takes a little while to get knocked up,” she laughs. 

“It won’t take that long,” he’s sure of it. “And if you’re this horny now… you’re going to be even more insatiable when you’re pregnant.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

He nods, “oh yeah… not to go all Reid on you but with twice the amount of blood coursing through your body, you’re going to be the most sensitive girl in the world for 9 months.” 

“Mmm, that sounds fun,” she says with a wiggle of her hips. She lifts herself so she can reposition his hardened cock against her core and grind on him. 

He tosses his head back against his pillow with a smile, “god, I love you.” 

“I love you,” she smiles. Leaning in, she kisses his jaw and all the way up to his ear. With his hands on her hips, he helps her find a good rhythm. 

She covers him in kisses, and she sucks on his neck just gently enough to get him going but not hard enough to leave a mark. They only have 1 day off, there isn’t enough time to let any hickies heal before they have to see their friends and co-workers again… when they get a little more time, however, she’s probably going to be the one covered in little marks. Small reminders of how much he loves her and advertisements of who she belongs to. 

It doesn’t take much for them to get all hot and heavy. She lifts her hips just enough for him to position himself at her entrance and she slips down onto him easily. He squeezes her hips harder, little bruises in the shape of his fingerprints will surely show in a day or two, as he helps her ride him. He draws her lips closer, kissing her for real, this time. She moans into the kiss, rolling her hips to keep riding him… but her rhythm is off, she’s too into kissing him to do two things at once. 

He wraps his arms around her back and cradles her body as he rolls them over. He breaks the kiss just to look between them, he grips his cock and the base and taps her clit with his swollen head, “fuck,” she whispers. 

“Yeah?” He teases, rubbing his cock over her clit again, coating himself in her wetness. “You know, it’s easier to get knocked up if you’ve orgasmed already…” 

He kisses her lips one last time, he shuffles down the bed, he grips her tits, pushing them together and kisses her right nipple, then the left and then he lets them go, gravity separates them enough for him to kiss the centre of her chest and down her stomach until he’s laying between her legs. She’s dreamed about this moment, the way he’d look up at her with greedy, lust-blown eyes just as he licks at her cunt. And he does just that, only it’s 10x better than she ever expected. 

She reaches out to brush his hair off his forehead and grips it as best as she can at this length. It’s been far too long since anyone, including her, has focused on her own pleasure. Sure, she came last night in the shower but that was a mutual gratification. He’s currently just doing this for her. For the benefits it’ll bring her body. And fuck, is it ever good. He slips two fingers inside as his tongue toys with her clit, she moans in response, tossing her head back, “Aaron…” 

Her free hand comes up to grip her breast, she needs something to hold, she feels like her soul is going to leap from her body if she doesn’t writhe and grind up against him. She moves with the waves of pleasure that cascade over her, drowning in love, she feels so overwhelmed as her orgasm hits and floods her shores. 

“Aaron,” she whines. “Aaron, please…” 

He kisses up her body again, his lips glistening as he licks them, “yes?” He teases. “What do you need, my love, tell me.” 

“Fuck me, please, put a baby in me, Aaron,” she begs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. “Please?” 

“Good girl,” he praises, guiding his cock into her, he hisses with how sensitive he is as he pushes inside. “shit… I could live here— quit my fuckin’ job and make love to you all day long.” 

“Okay,” she doesn’t fight it, it actually sounds like a dream getting to stay in this feeling for life. 

He grabs the pillow from his side of the bed, “lift for me, baby?” He asks, shoving the pillow under her hips as soon as there is enough room to do so. 

He gets her at a new angle and situates himself on his knees so he can fuck her with a bit more power. Her arms slip away from his shoulders, and she traces down his arms until they reach the bed where she grips her sheets. He grips her hips, holding her steady as he does so, watching her arch her hips and toss her head back at the new waves of pleasure. She spreads her legs a little wider, feeling him as deep as humanly possible inside of her. He grips the inside of her thigh and squeezes the plush of her delicious thighs. 

“Aaron,” she repeats his name again, “I need… holy fuck, Aaron…” 

“Use your words,” he teases, enjoying how far gone she is from his touch. 

“My clit, I need… I need more, st-stim-stimulation,” she struggles to speak through the pleasure. “Please?” 

He’s quick to bring his forefingers to her clit in a circular motion, “There you go.” 

“Thank—thank you, oh my god,” she whines again. Her grip tightens on her sheets, she wishes she could hold onto him but he’s too far away right now. 

As if he can read her mind, he leans in closer, capturing her mouth in a sloppy kiss and her arms go right around him. She grips onto his back, dragging her nails over his skin, making him groan into the kiss. She can tell he’s close by the way his rhythm changes, he thrusts faster but offbeat. The hand on her thigh goes up to her knee pit, pushing her leg up against her chest he’s basically got her folded in half as he fucks her deeper than ever before. 

Her second orgasm hits her like a truck, out of nowhere she feels it rip through her, all she can do is toss her head back, mouth open in a silent moan as her body quakes. As much as he tries to hold back, wanting it to last forever, he succumbs to the feeling of her fluttering around him once more. He drops his weight onto her, he wraps one arm around her waist and ruts into her until he reaches his finish. His other hand comes up to cup her face in a deep kiss as he reaches his high, he stills deep inside her, filling her up. She feels every drop. And it’s everything she ever wanted. 

She giggles as she comes down, laughing against his lips and making him smile. “What?” 

“You fucked me silly,” she teases him. She wraps her legs around him again, holding him there. 

“Thanks,” he smirks. “you gonna let me go get cleaned up, or?” 

She shakes her head, “Uh-uh, stay here. Keep it all in there.” 

“You’re a freak,” he teases her. “Seriously?” 

She just nods with a smile, “says the man who just put me in a mating press.” 

“Hey…” he can’t even think of a comeback because he did just do that. 

“And last night you said you want to get me pregnant so you can keep kissing my big, round tummy… you have a breeding kink, Hotchner,” she profiles him. “How could you not tell me?” 

He shrugs, “I didn’t realize that’s what it was until now.” 

“So you didn’t fall in love with me just cause you knew you could keep me big and pregnant for the next few years?” 

His eyes roll back with a groan, “okay don’t say that I’m going to get hard again.” 

“Good,” she teases. “Fuck me like that again and I’ll be pregnant in no time.” 

“Okay,” he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

—

When they’re really done and cleaned up again, Aaron slips out of the room to give Jess a call. 

She hates the thought of him leaving but he does have a son and a place of his own to get back to. They were going to talk it all out before this last case, but that got cut short. So now, she sits in her room all alone, half-dressed, wondering what it’s going to be like when everything changes again. 

At some point, she’s not just going to be Aaron's girlfriend and co-worker. She’s going to be his co-parent. The mother to his new baby and a helping hand with his original child. She knows just how much he loves Jack and she can’t wait to see up close and personal the way he is as a dad, to get a taste of what he’s going to be like with their children, too. 

He gives her a kiss once he comes back in, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, just thinking,” she gives him a small smile. “How’s Jack?” 

“Good… he convinced Jess to take him to the museum today, so he’s been having the time of his life, he didn’t even think to ask if I was home yet,” Aaron shares with a smile. “He’s really getting into Indiana Jones right now, he’s moved from one George Lucas franchise to the next.”

“Oh, I remember when I wanted to be an archeologist, those were the good old days,” she can’t wait to talk to him about it. She too, loved those movies and not just because young Harrison Ford is hot… 

“Do you want to come out to dinner with me and Jack, later?” Aaron asks. “We don’t have to tell him anything, yet.” 

She nods, “Yeah, I’d love that… he’s not going to think it’s weird that you brought someone from work out—

“Dave and Spencer are at my house all the time, Jack's best friend is Henry… he’s very used to having my work friends around,” Aaron shares, calming her nerves. “And the more he gets to know you, the easier it’ll be when we tell him what’s going on.” 

“What is going on?” She asks, her voice so tiny and cautious. “Are we just dating? Did you ever want to get married again? Are you going to be okay if I stop working to just be a mom for a few years?”

“Y/N,” he walks over and cups her face in his hands, he kisses the tip of her nose and stares into her eyes. “I love you, I want you in whatever capacity you want to share yourself with me and I want us to be a family. You, me, Jack and the baby we’re working on.” 

She smiles, “I want to be a family with you, too… I just don’t think I can live through another heartbreak, so—

“I’m never leaving you, I’m like a scar that won’t ever fade. I’m going to stay here, attached to you, for the rest of your life,” Aaron says, he brings her in for another kiss and holds her there, breathing her in and sealing the promise. 

—

They go at it once more before they have to leave to meet up with Jack and Jess. They agree on a local place, Jess isn’t going to stay for the meal, she has a date of her own to get to so she just drops Jack off with them, she shakes Y/N’s hand and makes her acquaintance and then she's gone. 

“How was your day, buddy?” Aaron asks, hand on his back, he caresses his shirt with his thumb. 

“Really cool, I got to see the new dinosaur exhibit,” Jack says with a big smile plastered to his face… he looks so much like Aaron but more like his mom. Specifically the picture in Aaron's office of her smiling on their wedding day. Their smile is the exact same. 

“I’m so glad you had a good day… have I ever introduced you to my friend Y/N?” Aaron asks, extending an arm to her.

She waves at him, “Hi, Jack.” 

“Hi… are you my dads' new girlfriend?”

“Jack,” Aaron can’t believe he asked that, but then again he’s 10, almost 11. He’s smart too… of course, he would know. 

She nods, “I am. But I work with him too, so we’ve known each other for a while… are you okay with that?” 

He nods, “You can keep him safe from the bad guys.” 

“Yeah, I can,” she stands a little taller and smiles. “I heard this is your favourite place to eat with your aunt, so, can you tell me what’s good?” 

He nods even more enthusiastically this time. “Come on,” he takes her hand and drags her inside the restaurant. 

Inside, they get a booth and Jack sits beside Y/N, across from his dad, who always sits facing the door, watching everyone who comes in and who leaves. She never noticed it before, not until Jack tells her: “Dad says that if there’s ever a bad guy, he’d be the first to see it, so he’d be the first to help.” 

“Your dad is the best at getting bad guys,” she agrees, it’s something she’s always admired about him. 

“You know, Y/N is good at it too, she saved me from an unsub the other day,” Aaron shares. 

“Really?” Jack looks at her all concerned. “What happened.” 

“A crazy lady was keeping girls in boxes and she was like the size of a house… she would’ve snapped your dad like a toothpick but I convinced her she had a surprise party to go to, cause remember, she was crazy, and she willingly went right into police custody,” she shares like its no big deal. 

“Wow,” Jack is blown away. “You’re really cool…” 

“Why, thank you,” Y/N can’t believe he said that. “That means a lot to me.” 

Jack gives her another big smile. “Do you have any kids?” 

She shakes her head, “No… but I want to have some.” 

Jack looks right at his dad, “do you?” 

“Jack, buddy—

“It would be cool if you did,” Jack cuts him off. “We had sex ed last week so I know you need a boy to—

“Jack,” she cuts him off too and reaches out for his hand. “We can talk about it later, but not now, okay?” 

He nods. “okay.” 

Aaron looks at her with eyes that read “I’m sorry” She just smiles and shrugs as if to say it’s fine. Cause it is, she’s not embarrassed or anything. Jack is curious, he’s smart and he’s emotionally mature enough to see that his dad is in love with this new lady… and Henry has been learning about what it’s like to be a big brother. Cause JJ and Will are really trying to expand their family, so much so that she’s started doing IVF. 

Jack and Henry do everything together. They’ve bonded over having 1 workaholic parent and their love of superheroes. They spend their weekends playing and visiting museums and parks… it’s only natural for him to want to be a big brother if Henry is going to be one too. 

After that, they have a seemingly normal and wonderful meal. The food is good, just like Jack promised and their drive home together is pretty quiet. Jack stares out the window, the radio is on low and Aaron holds her hand over the middle console. They stop at a corner store for snacks, Jack has been wanting to rent the latest Marvel movie and so they pick it up too. 

The 3 of them all cuddle up on the couch, Jack sits between them, and Aaron drapes his arm over the back of the seat so he can rub her shoulder every few moments and keep constant contact with her. They blow through their popcorn and candy, Jack stays up for the whole movie because of all the sugar and then he wants to stay there with them. He snuggled into Y/N’s side, tucked under her arm and everything. Aaron’s not surprised… he’s like this with JJ and he was like this with Beth too. He misses his mom and this is the closest thing he gets to having her back, so Aaron lets him stay up. And when he falls asleep, they carry him to bed and tuck him in together. 

She has to wipe a stray tear once they close his bedroom door, overwhelmed with feelings… the biggest one is love. “He’s the sweetest.” 

Aaron pulls her in for a hug, “So are you.” 

“I loved tonight,” she says as she pulls back, she smiles up at him with gleaming eyes. “I loved all day with you, actually.” 

Aaron cups her face in his hands, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Do you want to stay tonight?” He asks, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. 

She nods, “if that’s okay?” 

“It’s perfect… I’ll take the couch, you can have my bed,” he says with a half smile. “It would be weird for him to see us in bed in the morning. He typically tries to crawl in with me when I’m home, I don’t want him to think we’re moving too quickly.” 

“That’s okay,” she doesn’t mind at all. “We can still hang out for a while before bed, though, right?” 

He nods, “Absolutely.”   

—

She knew in her mind that getting pregnant wasn’t going to happen in an instant. She’s so used to going month after month with negative pregnancy tests and being over 35 and with Aaron in his late 40s… she didn’t think either of them would be able to produce a baby so quickly. But boy, was she wrong. 

During dinner she got a whiff of Jacks mack and Cheese with Dino nuggets and felt sick, the smell of the powdered fake cheese mixed with ketchup made her stomach churn and she had to excuse herself to the bathroom to clutch her chest and wait for the nausea to pass. It was so weird, she didn’t understand what was going on. At first, she suspected that she caught something in their latest case, and then she turned to look in the mirror. 

Her skin was clearer than it ever had been, her hair was shiny, and her boobs were perky as all hell… “Oh my god,” she whispered to herself as her hand traced down her chest to cup her stomach. “Oh, my god?” 

It took everything in her to act normal the rest of the night but Aaron could tell something was up. He offered to let her sleep in his bed once again, he still didn’t want to sleep together around Jack yet. He’s still getting used to the fact his dad has another serious girlfriend. After losing Beth as well, Aaron is not ready to rush things on him. So, she refused his offer, saying she was fine when really she was panicking. The plan was to call Aaron as soon as she got home, instead, she texts him to let him know she made it safely… but she didn’t send that text from home, she sent it from the parking lot of Target.

She needed to go buy and test and cry in her bathroom, alone, no matter the outcome. 

Her period wasn’t late, she didn’t test this month to know her ovulation window and this is nighttime urine. The best time to test would be in the morning, so she grabs 4 tests, a sleeve of red solo cups and a tub of ice cream and she heads home for real this time. 

She kicks off her shoes at the front door, puts the ice cream in her freezer and races to her bathroom upstairs. She tears the package of cups open and a few falls to the floor, she grabs one and immediately pushes her pants down so she could hover over the toilet and pee into said cup… no one ever said finding out if you’re pregnant was pretty.

With a good amount of pee in the cup, she places it on the counter and finishes her business. When she stands again, she reaches for the grocery bag on the counter and takes out the pregnancy test box, reading the back hastily, she tears it open for a test. It’s fairly simple, submerge the test strip in the urine for 30 seconds, wait 3 minutes and then check for two lines. 

So simple… so why is she freaking the fuck out?

She dips the test into the cup, counts 30 Mississippi’s and then sets it on a piece of toilet paper to do its thing. And instead of freaking out the whole time, she goes to her bedroom to strip out of her work clothes and into something comfortable so that the 3 minutes fly by. And they do. 

When she goes back to the bathroom, she does everything but looks at the counter… she’s not ready to be heartbroken again. She crosses her fingers, she takes a deep breath and she looks down at the test. 

At first, she doesn’t see a second line so her heart drops to her stomach, but as she picks it up and turns it towards the light, the second line is there but extremely faded. She can’t believe it. It doesn’t feel real in the slightest and instead of getting her hopes up, she believes it’s a false positive. She thinks maybe she left it in the pee too long or maybe she let it sit too long… maybe something different will happen in the morning? She has no idea but she doesn’t believe she’s pregnant. 

So she goes to bed. She doesn’t sleep. But she lays there, staring up a the ceiling thinking of all the possibilities until tears roll down her cheeks and into her ears. She has never been this close to a positive before. Every single dream she had about her baby was back in her mind, just rewritten with a better man holding their tiny child in his arms. 

Aaron is already such an amazing dad, thinking about him with another little baby is so easy to do. She can imagine lazy Sundays in bed as a family of 4, she can imagine trips to the store for groceries, and dinner somewhere quick like McDonald's, and screaming kids in the playroom trying to get along… she can imagine most of all the way he’d cup her gigantic tummy time and time again as they build a bigger family. She can imagine Jack helping around the house and getting her bottles and diapers from another room. She can imagine him holding the babies in the hospital, introducing his siblings to their new baby brothers or sisters and passing on the torch of older brother. She can imagine all of them in the crowd at Jack's graduation and surrounding him with all the love in the world. Because it’s what he deserves. 

All the dreams that would’ve been, the babies that should’ve been… they’re nothing compared to what she already has with Aaron and Jack. But a new baby wouldn’t hurt. Or a few more after that. 

—

When she wakes up in the morning, the first thing she does is pee in another cup. She dips the test in it for 30 seconds and leaves it upside down on a piece of toilet paper while she does the rest of her morning routine for the next 3 minutes. She really doesn’t want to stress about it, it’s going to be fine regardless of if she is pregnant or not. At least with Aaron, he’s actually willing to help her try this time and he had all the parts to do so… and boy, did he know how to use them. 

As much as she is excited to possibly be pregnant, she kinda wishes the trying period was longer. Having sex with him was fun. She hasn’t had fun, loving, enjoyable sex in years and the thought of it stopping made her a little sad. 

She heads downstairs to make herself some coffee and toast, her nerves aren’t making her hungry but she knows she has to eat before work. By the time the toast is popping up, her phone alarm is going off to tell her it’s time to check the test. Part of her wants to run up the stairs. The rest of her freezes. She’s really not ready. And she doesn’t want to find out alone. 

So she stops the alarm and she calls Aaron. 

He picks up right away, “are you okay?” 

She wants to start crying right away, her whole body is shot with hormones and feelings, she hasn’t ever felt like this before. “I don’t know,” she manages to say with a quivering voice. “I think I’m pregnant.” 

“Jess just arrived, I can be there in 15 minutes,” he says within seconds. “You’re okay, it’s going to be fine, I promise. I’ll be there as soon as possible— wait, do you have tests? Do you need some? Or anything else?” 

“I already did a test I just can’t look at it without you,” she admits. 

“That’s okay, love, I promise I’ll be there in a minute… do you want me to stay on the phone?” 

“No… no, it’s fine. I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yes, you will. I love you,” he says and she can almost hear the sweet smile in his voice. 

“I love you too,” she says back, hanging up soon thereafter. 

She doesn’t head back upstairs at all, she can’t bring herself to drink her coffee in case she is pregnant and it’s not like she needs it. The nerves alone have woken her up completely and also made her unable to eat anything she’s so anxious she could throw up… or is that from being pregnant? She doesn’t know. 

When he pulls up, she’s standing on the front porch with a cup of coffee for him. “I can’t drink it if I am pregnant.” 

“Actually you can have 1 a day,” he says with a smile, taking it anyway. He wraps one arm around her and pulls her in for a hug. He kisses her head and holds her there for a moment. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know, I just needed you,” she says as she pulls away. She reaches for the door and lets them both back inside, locking it behind herself. Even when she’s awake she doesn’t ever leave the door unlocked. She’s been at her job too long to know any difference. 

Aaron follows her up the stairs and into her bedroom, he takes a few sips of coffee and places it on the night table on his side of the bed. He notices she’s not even dressed for work yet, so he sends Penelope a text to let her, and the others, know they’d be late. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, watching her as she stands anxiously in the doorway of her bathroom. 

She nods. “I think so.” 

“Even if it's a negative, we have lots of time,” Aaron reminds her, he places his hand on her back and smiles. “And I’d be more than willing to go to your fertility doctor.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods, “if we need a little help, there’s no shame in that.” 

“I love you,” she leans into his space and kisses him right on the lips this time. He tastes like coffee and hope… so she’s ready. “Let's go look.” 

“After you,” he says, letting her into the bathroom first. 

She stands at the counter, her hands gripping the linoleum top. She takes a deep breath and flips the test over. 

It’s positive. 

Very clearly and darkly positive. Two lines standing side by side, bright pink and happy to be there. 

“Holy shit,” Aaron is the first to speak. 

She just stares at it with her jaw on the floor… she’s never seen a positive on her own test in her entire life. After almost 80 tests. 8 years. She has a positive. She’s having a baby. 

Aaron’s baby. 

She turns to him with tears welling in her eyes, they slip down her cheeks as she starts to laugh… its absurd. She doesn’t know what else to do as she jumps into his arms and holds him tight. His big hands land on her back, he buries his face in her neck and gives her a few kisses. “We did it.” 

“We did it,” she repeats. “We fucking did it!!” 

They celebrate with a few more kisses and then she turns back to look at the test again. “I need to take a picture of this, I’m going to send it to my mom and maybe even frame it. Holy fuck, I’m pregnant!” 

“You’re so cute,” he reminds her. “God, I love you so much.” 

She can’t stop smiling. She does take a picture of it, she puts it in a plastic bag for safekeeping and slips it into her night side table. She’s so sidetracked, talking a million miles a minute about doctors' appointments and how they should tell their families and the team and so much more, Aaron can’t even keep up. She says everything while walking around the room, looking for something he would help her find but she isn’t talking about it, she’s stuck on the baby. 

“Baby,” he uses her pet name to draw her out of it, he holds her by her shoulders and looks in her eyes. “What are you looking for?” 

“I don't know… I can’t remember? What was I saying?” 

“Something about a baby registry? Honey, we have 9 months. Just get ready, we have to go to work.” 

“Right, sorry,” she’s so out of it. 

“It’s fine,” he doesn’t mind, at all, actually. He thinks it’s cute, he just knows the team will have more questions every minute they’re alone in the office. 

She picks out a pair of dress pants and a white dress shirt with muted blue and pink lines on it… subtle, but it also screams “A baby is coming” and Aaron wonders just how long it’ll take everyone to start placing bets. If they haven’t already. 

He finally gets her already and into his car, he makes sure she didn’t forget anything with everything that’s on her mind already… and then they’re gone. 

“Aaron, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to be normal today,” she admits as they pull up to the building. “I'm so scared to move or jump or do anything in case I miscarry.” 

“I know,” he reaches over and holds her hand. “You can take it easy and we don’t have to tell anyone why and when you start to get uncomfortable being in the field you can switch to desk duty… you can even help me hire your replacement and we need someone to still cover where Derek was before he took over for Dave.” 

“Yeah… yeah that sounds doable,” she agrees, trying to hype herself up. 

This is the furthest she’s ever gotten on the road to becoming a mom and it’s terrifying just how quickly it can be taken from her. She’s older than she thought she’d be when having her first baby but she’ll take it. She’s too excited while also terrified and in love with their baby and him and this whole situation. It’s perfect, no matter how scary it is. It’s perfect. 

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” she admits with tears in her eyes. “We did it.” 

“You’re the one doing it,” he reminds her. “you’re spectacular, you’re going to be a fantastic mom, this is all about you. I’m going to make sure you feel as special as I know you are, the whole time.” 

“Aaron,” she whines, eyes welling with tears. “God, I’m already so emotional I’m not even that pregnant?” 

“It’s been almost a month, hasn’t it?” He asks, “If you don’t mind me asking… when was your last period?” 

“When we were on the Nina Freeman case… I had it when my divorce was final, it didn’t last that long so… oh my god I was in my fertile window when we had sex in the shower?”

“And then 3 more times the following day,” he brags, smug as hell. “And then a few more times these last 3 weeks…” 

Thinking back to it, this is the most fun she’s had in years. This is how it was always meant to be. “I’m probably 4 or 5 weeks pregnant… no wonder I’ve been so tired and horny and why jacks dinner made me want to barf last night.” 

“I knew it,” Aaron teases, pulling into a parking spot at Quantico, he throws the SUV in park and turns to her. “I knew you didn’t want to sleep over for a reason.” 

“I’m so used to taking the tests all alone and doing all the work that I just resorted back to my normal routine and it made me really sad,” she admits. “I never want to do anything without you.” 

“I never want you to do anything alone ever again,” he reaches out to hold her hand, brings it to his lips and kisses her knuckles. “You’re mine forever now, I’m not going to let you feel lonely ever again.”

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86

Bigger than the whole sky Taglist

@ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @14buddy22 @spottedzebrasinpartyhats  

[mustainegf]

idk if u write for bottom dave but could u write the reader overstimulating him? i feel like he'd be so whiny and giggly when he's overstimulated and it's just ouuuh i can't stop thinking abt him HEUEUHH😿😿

YESSSS I already had something like this written so I hope it gets the job done!!

Dave moaned as the cool air hit his cock, it was so hard from all this waiting. “Fuck- that feels good,” he moaned, his hips bucking upwards.

I took him in my hand and stroked the length of it slowly. “Look who’s in control now?” I grinned. It began to dawn on him what I was going to do. He realized I was going to do exactly what he’d done to me.

“Baby-” he started but I cut him off. “Shh… just enjoy it,” I said, my voice husky with lust as I stroked his cock slowly.

I didn’t need any of my spit, he was already leaking with precum and there was quite a bit of it. He moaned, his hips twitching upwards as I continued to stroke him.

“Please,” he whimpered, his voice strained. “Please let me cum.” I couldn’t help but smile at his desperation.

“Fuck- that feels good,” he groaned out, his hands fisting in the sheets beneath us. “You like that?” I asked, my voice low and husky with lust.

He nodded frantically, his hips bucking upwards as I continued to stroke him slowly. He was in heaven, the feeling of someone else stroking him after all this stimulation.

“Please, baby, please,” he pleaded, his voice high and whiny. “I need to cum.”

“Not yet,” I teased, speeding my pace slightly and adding a little more pressure. It was driving him crazy. His climax was coming quickly, and he couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck- baby! I’m gonna cum! Please!” he begged, his voice trembling. I sped my pace even more and the pressure increased. It was too much. He exploded, his cum shooting out of him in waves.

I continued to stroke until the last drop was milked from him. And just as he had assumed, I didn’t stop stroking him, exactly as he had done with me.

His body writhed in pleasure. I ignored him though; I was enjoying this too much to let up now that the deed had been done.

He had never been overstimulated like this before, the tip of his dick was throbbing, he could hardly take it.

“Good boy…” I whispered in his ear. I’d never called him that before, and it only turned him on more. He giggled helplessly, his body twitching under my touch.

I kept stroking him slowly, my hand moving up and down the length of his cock. He was so sensitive that it felt like I was touching every nerve in his body.

“Please, no more,” he whimpered, his voice breathy. “I can’t take it.”

“Just a little more,” I murmured, my voice dripping with satisfaction. Without any warning at all, I jerked him off as fast as I could move my hand.

He choked on his breath, gasping for air. He was cumming again, and it felt like his whole body was imploding.

“Fuck-” I whispered in his ear as my hand slowed down to a stop. He was spent. His body felt like jelly, and his mind couldn’t think straight.

“That’s a good boy,” I said softly as my hand left him to rest on the bed beside us. He couldn’t move. His body was too sensitive, and his mind had been fried.

“Baby-” He kissed me softly on the cheek before whispering in my ear again: “I love you.” I climbed off the bed and stood up, I was still wearing my panties from earlier. I looked down at him with a smirk on my face.

“We’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he groaned with a chuckle as his cock twitched again.

“Fuck-” he groaned out as I walked away from him, my hips swaying seductively. “I’m going to go take a shower, you can join me if you want,” I winked. Despite his aching body, I knew he would give in.

[ohbo-ohno]

Bo, I had a dark au idea that I really love but I’m too shy to post it on my main so I’m sending it to you because I think you might like it.

Soap and Ghost who are ready for the next stage in their lives now that they’re retired from the military. Setting up a nursery in the new house they bought and filling it with all sorts of cute toys and plush blankets to welcome a sweet little baby into their lives.

But there are so many problems that arise from this because of the fact that Ghost is, technically, dead. They can’t really adopt and it’s hard to find a surrogate who is willing to carry for them discreetly, even when they’re offering more then the usual prices. And even when they do, they have an even harder time finding one that they actually like. They can’t have just anyone carry their baby!

So they’re disheartened after months of searching and Soap is starting to think that it may never happen when Ghost comes home from the store one day and says that he thinks he found the perfect girl to carry their baby. Reader. Soap is immediately excited, he can’t wait to meet this mystery person. The overworked and run down cashier that rang Ghost out earlier that day. Younger then both of them and, as they were soon to find out through a little research (*coughstalkingcough*), struggling horribly. A shitty apartment in the bad side of town, little to no furniture, and working double shifts at at least 2 jobs just to make ends meet. It hurts Soap to see the future carrier of their child (because he decided the second that Ghost said he wanted you that you would be their surrogate) in such bad condition. He wants to take you home with them the minute he sees your horrible living conditions and Ghost has to physically hold him back by the scruff of his neck to keep him from ruining his plan.

His plan being to sabotage your whole life. Call and write in several complaints to your jobs from numerous phone numbers and email addresses, making up scandalous rumors to get you fired and pretending to be your previous bosses when you try to find new ones, ensuring that you can no longer even try to sustain yourself. And all of it will peak when you’re three months behind on your rent and your landlord finally evicts you. With nowhere to go, you’re forced to live in homeless shelters, crying your eyes out when Ghost finally lets Soap approach you.

And he’s so nice to you, pretending to be a volunteer at the shelter, offering you a warm meal with him tonight, a better bed to sleep in, a hot shower. It sounds like heaven to you, you can’t help but agree. Even smile when Soap says his husband will probably be there to meet you in the morning.

And met him you did, several hours later, waking up to his cock filling you, Soap’s hands on your belly, cooing to you that it would all be fine. They’ll take care of you, keep you safe and warm and happy, they just need a little something in return. This is the least you could for for them, isn’t it? They’ll get you anything you could ever need or want.

Anddddddd then they end up never letting you go, even after a baby is born ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️. Sorry I got a bit carried away, but I’m going feral over this idea - 🕸

sorry for the semi late response spiderweb!!! this is such a cool idea, tysm for sending it to me! i really don't have anything much to add, but i want everyone else to get to see it too lol

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ vi. reader/suguru

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

Reader

These past few weeks have been interesting, to say the least. After randomly seeing Suguru at my cousin-in-law’s party,  and watching Toji beat him up, let’s just say I've been a bit on edge. Not as much as my husband, though. 

 I know how overprotective Toji can be. He’s been this way before we started officially dating. Most women would hate how possessive and overbearing their partners can be, but not me. Something about how Toji acts makes me even more attracted to him. 

 His hold on me. His jealousy. His gruffness. Gosh, it freaking turns me on. I know, call me crazy, but it’s my truth. 

 Anyways. That’s besides the point.

 Since the whole Suguru situation, Toji has been by my side. When we have sex, he would pull me into embrace, tighter than usual, and his body heat would transfer to me, providing a warmth I know I can only feel from him. 

 We started running errands together. Going to sleep at the same time, but sometimes, he would wait until I dozed off until he eventually did. It even got to the point where we took all our showers together. . . That also winded into sex. 

 My speculation is that the Suguru bullshit sparked an emotion I thought he could never feel. Hearing how he forced himself on me, attempting to take my body without my permission, not only angered him, but scared him. 

  It’s my job to protect you, and I didn’t, is what he told me after we made love a few weeks ago. 

 I hate that Toji felt that way because he did protect me. Despite our fluctuating marriage this past year, there was never a time I didn’t feel protected by Toji. However, I can’t help but feel solely responsible for this mess. 

 My relationship with Suguru should’ve never happened. I should’ve declined his sexual advances the night we met. And I should’ve ignored him when I saw him at the bakery. I’m not diminishing how Toji neglected me in our marriage, but nothing can justify me stepping out on him. 

 Not for temporary lust.

 This shit with Suguru has gotten way out of control. Him saying that he loves me, suggesting I should leave Toji for him. Admitting that he listened to me and Toji having sex while we were at Naoya’s party. Thinking I’m going to be crawling back to him once Toji  (if, which he won’t) fucks up again. 

 I’m not interested in this potential fatal attraction. 

 I just hope that’s the last time I see Suguru. 

 “Sweets, you in here?” Toji calls for me. 

 “Yeah, I am.” He comes behind to give me a sweet open mouthed kiss on my neck. “Everything’s okay?”

 “Yeah. The place was quiet for a while, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 I turn to face him. “Just thinking.”

 “About?”

 “Nothing, baby. I’m okay.”

 Toji holds my chin between his fingers, firmly saying, “Y/N.”

 It’s like he sees right through me.

 I deeply sigh. “Just everything that happened a few weeks ago.”

 “That fucker been messing with you again?”

 “No, no,” I reassured him. “I haven’t heard from him since that night.”

 He hums. “You’ll be okay while I’m gone handling this contract?”

 “Yeah, the gun is here.”

 He looks at me with skepticism because I know the last thing he wants to do is leave me for three days, especially since he’ll be in another country. But I’m aware of Toji’s lifestyle. One of the first things he trusted me with. It took some time at first for me to accept, however, knowing the type of contracts he took made me weirdly comfortable. 

 “Okay,” still sounding hesitant, but rubs my cheek with his thumb. “I’m heading out now. Be back on Friday.”

 I balance on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. “Be safe. . . I love you, Toji.”

 “I love you, too.”

Suguru

 Love can make you do crazy things. Well, I wouldn’t consider what I’m doing as crazy, per se. More so, passionate. Yeah, I’d like to think of myself as a passionate lover. I love hard, strong, and deeply. Others may consider my feelings as overbearing, but when being in love with a woman like Y/N, you have to be.

 She deserves to be desired. Sought at constantly. Fucked daily. Loved loudly. I possibly couldn’t deserve her because I’m not worthy enough, but she deserves to be someone like me. Not her shitty ass fucking husband. 

 I hate that piece of shit. He ruined me and Y/N’s moment a few weeks ago. We were doing perfectly fine until he showed up. Yeah, maybe she was being a bit stubborn, but a few kisses and words of reassurance would’ve helped. 

 How else am I supposed to win her back if I don’t stay persistent? Last thing I want is for Y/N to think I don’t care about her anymore. It’s shown by how I left the tag on her car the last time we had sex so I could make sure she’s safe. That’s what a lover is supposed to do. . . Protect.

 How can her husband do that shit if he’s gullible enough to take a last minute contract I forged? I’ve done my research on Toji Zen’in. I know he’s a money hungry bastard that would take anything given to him, which works in my favor.

 When I go see Y/N, I want to do so without any interruptions.

 I’ve been patient and waited for this moment for weeks. Following her around. Getting her new number after she gave it to the cashier to redeem her awards while running her errands, which by the way is very dangerous. I mean, there has to be another way of looking up an account without giving out your phone number? What if a creep heard as well and got her number? Tch, I can’t let that happen. 

 Note to self, Y/N loves that makeup store a lot. She’s been there twice since I last saw her.

 I’ll be sure to get her a gift from there.

 Anyways.

 Once Y/N and I talk things out, I can show her how much I care about her. How much I miss her. Showering her with affection and maybe cock if she wants it. I’ll never deny my pretty girl cock, especially when she looks so gorgeous while taking it.

 Speaking of, I miss that pussy so much. She was always so fucking messy and I loved that shit, knowing how wet and creamy I make her. 

 Two times wasn’t enough. Nearly wasn’t enough time for me to deeply study her body, explore it so I could figure out different ways to make her cum. See, this is the reason why I need get rid of that Zen’in fuck. Because when there’s other people standing  in the way of what you’re trying to build with the person you love, they make your vision blurry.

 That’s exactly what Toji Zen’in is. A blur.

 And he needs to fucking go.

 Permanently. 

 Maybe tonight would be the perfect time for me to go talk to Y/N. I coincidentally moved into an apartment building across from where she lives, so this makes things easier for us. It just further proves that fate is fighting to bring us together–for good. 

 After we talk and she realizes how much I love her, we could lay down together and watch a movie. Somehow, in the midst of the movie, I can fall between her legs and finally eat that sweet pussy I’ve be thinking about since I first fucked her. Or if she just wants to cuddle, we can do that, too.

 Whatever my angel wants.

 My main goal is to have Y/N understand how I feel about her. She said no romantic gestures, but I want the world to know how much she means to me. Maybe just a small and intimate date if anything.

 No, Suguru. That’ll make her mad.

 I know, I know. 

 Shit.

 I need to let out this frustration, and although I can’t make sweet love to Y/N right now, I suppose fisting my cock for the fifth time today wouldn’t be so bad.

 I think of how gorgeous and thick she is. It’s like every time I see Y/N, she gets more beautiful. I think of the leggings she wore a few days ago on her daily walk to the park that imprinted her ass, showing the natural waves she has every step she takes. And how her pussy looked so fucking fat, cuffing and sucking in the material of the tights, practically begging for me to fuck her.

 “Let me see if she’s in her bedroom,” I mutter to myself. 

 I still have the photos she sent me a few weeks ago, along with the ones I took while stalk–watching her, but physically seeing her is more preferred. Lucky enough, I was able to secure a corner apartment and the distance is far enough for her to not notice me, but close enough for me to see everything. 

 “Fuck.” I began palming my cock. 

 Y/N looks like she’s reading a book (I know how much she loves reading because she always goes to the bookstore) while wearing an oversized shirt and nothing underneath. Why does she wish to fuck tease me like this? Exposing her bottom cheeks so I can have the perfect view of her ass. 

 My cock is out less than a second later and it’s crimson, and as expected, already leaking precum. I spread it across my head and length to act as lubrication. 

 I know that I’m a bit perverted when it comes to Y/N. I know. But I can’t help myself when it comes to her. She’s so perfect. So beautiful and sexy. So mine. 

 So fucking mine. 

 Playing with my cock shouldn’t be an issue, no?

 I can take it, Suguru. I can take it.

 Fuck yes, princess. You can. You know how well you take my cock in that tight pussy. Just thinking about being deep inside of Y/N makes me feel like a fucking satyromaniac. 

 I’m practically ripping the skin off myself with how hard I’m pumping my cock. My head is thrown back in pure bliss, bottom lip tucked between my teeth to contain my moans. Oh, fuck, she’s being over right now to pick up something off the floor. That pussy is dying for my touch, I know it is. 

 “Y/N,” I whimper.

 Just a little bit more, I thought. The arousal that’s burning through my cock is soon shooting through my tip. If only if she coul–

 Who… the fuck … is calling me?

 I curse myself. I’m angry that my phone notifications have been going off while I’m trying to please myself. I can ignore it. I can, but I’m technically expecting a call from–

 “Suguru, it took you long enough,” my best friend, Satoru says, on the other side of the phone.

 “I’m busy, Satoru. I hope you called with information that I want,” I bit out.

 He chuckles, baiting me. “Still not over getting your assbeat by your girlfriend’s husband? Poor Suguru. I can come there and make you feel better. Maybe change your band-aids?”  

 Sometimes I ask myself why I tolerate him.

 “You called to fucking mock me or what?”

 “Hm, maybe,” he admits. “Also to tell you that he took the contract. You fucking owe me for bringing me into your mess, dude.”

 Just as I expected.

 “Thanks. Gotta go-”

  “Suguru, wait,” he says abruptly. “Are you sure you want to get deeper into this shit with Y/N? Her husband is a fucking professional killer. Is she really worth your life?”

 What kind of stupid question is that? Of course, she is. I love Y/N. Why can’t anyone fucking see that? That we belong together? The instant connection, our sexual attraction, how I look at her. She’s mine. If anyone gets in the way of our relationship, there’s no reason for them to live. 

 “I’ll be sure to book a session with my therapist if I need advice. Bye, Satoru.” 

 The nerve of him trying to lecture me about pursuing Y/N when he had his fair share of dealing with married women.

 Watch, I’ll show him. I’ll show Y/N. Hell, I’ll even show her jackass of a husband how she’s meant to be mine. . . Not his.

 Maybe there will be mishaps along the way, but love isn’t an easy thing. Fighting for who you love is inevitable.

 And good thing I have a lot of fight in me.

previous chapter | next chapter

[hockeybabe]

Can I request a jack hughes smut/ steamy imagine about the reader coming home after a long tour with the girl band she’s in?

My Rockstar|| 𝘑.𝘏𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴

*Gif is not mine*

Not edited

Parings: Jack Hughes x f!reader

Summary: Jacks girlfriend comes back from a world wide tour with her band and has a surprise for him.

Word count: 792

Warnings: sexual content, oral (f!reciving), dirty talk, swearing, that should be it.

Requested: yes

Note: EEEKK this is my first imagine and smut all in one I hope whoever asked for this likes it.

Chloe, Bella, Crystal and Y/N. The worlds famous quartet. Also know as The Wishers a band name we made up when we were in middle school. Chloe was are guitarist, Bella was the drummer, Crystal only ever played the piano and then there’s me, the lead singer. It wasn’t easy building a name for ourselves, I mean we started out in Bella’s garage with nothing fancy, more like anything that made noise. Now we had the whole world at our finger tips, living the life. Even better we just got off tour.

Travailing all around the world is tiring and I’m ready to go home to my warm bed, in my own apartment, with my own boyfriend and possibly having some fun. Jack Hughes, my sexy ass hockey boyfriend who had a game against the oilers and won. I think a little welcome home and victory win surprise might come into play.

Making my way to my apartment I unlock the door seeing all the lights on. “Jack!” I call out, getting no response in return. Two arms wrap around me “Hi rockstar.” The voice whispers into my ear, chills running down my spine. I turn my body facing him and wrap my hand around his neck. “My love, I missed you.” I tell him, pressing my lips onto his, as he tries to deepen the kiss I pull back. “Not yet,” I say putting my index finger to his lips, “I have a surprise for you, but you have to wait.” I smile while bitting my lower lip.

“Such a tease.” He respond playfully nibbling my finger. I look up at him batting my eyelashes, “I’ll give you two options. One, you have your surprise now or we have it in the shower and go to bed.” I say hoping he picks the first option. “So very tempting, but I like surprise. Especially if they involve you, so what’s this surprise.” He asks, leaning down slowly pushing the strap of my tank top down and placing kisses from my shoulder to neck.

“Give me five minutes and you can have your way with me.” I pull away from Jack walking into our bedroom. “I’m counting!” He yells from out the door. My panties dampen at the thought of Jack having his way with me. My little surprise has to do with a black sparkly two piece of lingerie. Being in a band has its perks, one being making money. The set slides on my body perfectly and does it’s job: to cover nothing. “One minute!” Jack yells, I giggle to myself, I can’t believe he was actually counting.

“You can come in now!” I call out for him, I place myself on the bed, legs wide open and elbows holding me up with my back arched to show of my 36d tits. Jack turns the doorknob eyes full of lust and hunger. “Fuck baby, you come home and here you are, laid out for me. What needy little slut.” He growls, crawling on top of me. “Just for you, and by the way you have way too many clothes on.” I say grasping the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up for him to take it off.

He throws his shirt to the side as I rub my hands down his chest, carving the abs on his body. Jack runs his hands up and down my body kissing my neck all the way down to the centre of my breasts. I moan loudly, my panties practically soaked from arousal. “Jack please.” I beg pulling at his hair. “Keep begging and I’ll see if you deserve it.” He answers cupping my sex. “Jack please, I’ve been so good.” I plea. “How good? You ever touch yourself while on tour?” He taunts. “No, only you get to do that.” I breath out.

“Good fucking girl. Let’s get rid of these.” Jack peels off my bra trailing kisses down my stomach to my hips and pulls my panties off. “Fuck, look how soaked you are. Just for me?” Jack says running his middle finger up and down my folds. I whimper in response, the teasing getting the best of me. “Jack do something please.” I cry out, with that he’s down on me, sucking my nub and sticking his finger in me. “Jack!” I moan loudly, feeling my first orgasm hit me.

I shudder in his hold, coming. “That’s my rockstar, you can give me one more cant you.” I nod moaning over and over again. Jack tuns us over so I’m on top, “Your pants are still on.” I whine fiddling with his belt try to undo it. I get his pants and boxers off his cock sprung up hard.

“Ride me, rockstar.”

[dreamsandcherrypie]

Maria’s Sketchbook Masterlist

We’ve reached a pivotal element of the story which involves someone sneaking a peak at our main character’s journal 😏

PS I’ll illustrate your fanfic too!! Bonus if it’s Dean but not required :)

Chapter 1: Prologue

The little girl from our power duo’s first case

. . . Until an entirely different kind of job appeared at the foot of my bed. A creepy as shit ghost of a girl in bows and dusty nightgown. But even so, you could tell she was a beautiful little girl in life . . .

Chapter 2: In da Club

Our main suspect

“Oh! An’ she had glasses! Ol’ timer ones with the thick squares,” the pretty southern woman drawled out in her honeyed accent from her hospital bed.

I quickly begin sketching some glasses on my drawing of our suspect.

“Mrs. Bennet, did you notice anything unique about her teeth?” I ask, super casually.

“Like wha?”

“I don’t know, maybe they were… pointy?”

“No miss... I woulda reckoned somethin’ like that.”

Chapter 3: Meet Me at the Crime Scene

Ava’s puppy eyes

“Please? I really think we could use their help and I really like Sam.”

“Can’t you boink Sam without us having to work with his stupid brother?”

She clasps prayer hands under her chin, tilts her head even further, and juts out her lower lip. I hold out for all of a few seconds.

“Ugh! Fine!” I throw up my hands in defeat.

Chapter 4: What’s the Steaks? Focused Dean

“Oh yes,” says Rose, now holding hands with Ava, “Tell me more.”

I catch Rose up on the bet and Ava up on that whole barstool thing.

“Do you think he fancies you?” asks Rose, on the edge of her nonexistent seat.

“Not a chance in hell! You should hear the way he talks to me!”

“I don’t know hun, it sounded awfully sexually charged,” says Rose.

“It kind of felt more like a threat?”

“Hot,” says Ava.

Chapter 5: A Whole Night

Cassettes

Chapter 6: Morning, Sunshine Green Soap 💚

Once most of the pool water is off my body, I steal a little of the boys’ green bar soap. I come out of the shower smelling like a straight dad, but I like it. Taking the liberty of using the guys’ cleanest looking towel, I dry off and wrap myself up. Chapter 7: This Plan Sounds Dumb

Vice

Chapter 8: Out of the Woods "Listen..."

Chapter 9: "Field of Blue"

Chapter 10: Fresh Tattoos, Loud Music, & Fast Cars

Chapter 11: Nightmares & Coconut Cream Pie

Breakfast of Champions

Chapter 12: Rock Me Asmodeus If you haven't seen the music video for the 80's smash hit "Rock Me Amadeus" sung by German band Falco go do yourself a favor

Chapter 13: Close Encounter I actually did this one for the fanfic but I just couldn't wait to post it

Chapter 14: Dreams... Chapter 15: ...And What? Huh? CHERRY PIE BABY!!! This 2-part chapter's artwork can be viewed exclusively on AO3 🥸

[bump1nthen1ght]

Hi hi!! I saw that you are taking headcanon requests. I would just like to ask if you could please write about a fem orc (whatever agab) and an ftm boyfriend. I think the switchy things that could happen are just 🫠🫠🫠

Sure thing anon! My first piece for this blog was for a female orc, so it's always fun to come back to them!

Fem!Orc x FtM!Reader: NSFW and SFW headcanons under the cut

SFW

Your girlfriend is a total romantic. She’s showing up to dates with a bouquet of flowers, your favorite dessert, and dressed like a whole SNACK

Her two favorite dates are an extra-fancy upscale restaurant where you can split the lobster mac and cheese and a casual beach date that ends at a dime a dozen crab shack; There is no inbetween

Absolute fiend at the beach; She’s picking you up and throwing you in the water, smacking your ass and helping you burying you in the sand. She didn’t have many beaches growing up, so it brings out her mischievous little kid side

Will definitrlt wiggle her eyebrows and make a dirty joke if you ask her to rub sunscreen on her back, giggling like a highschooler.

But her jokester persona aside, she’s also the worlds best guard. If anyone harasses you too (or, god forbid, flights with you in FRONT of her) expect a strong grip on their shoulder and an intimidating glare.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying to my boyfriend?”

(Yes she is a little possessive, but your her babe! No one elses!!!)

It’s on those fancy dates when she can bust out the sauve, kissing up your arm and laughing at how flustered you get

(Maybe kiss up her arm as well 👀, She’ll stutter and blush like its the first date)

If you’re forward enough to play footsie under the table she’s totally down, though she will be the most obvious person in the world about it

When desser comes out, expect for her to stick out her tongue and expect you to feed her. If you comply, he’ll make sure to take the most sensual bite, licking her lips as she pulls away.

NSFW

Get ready for your strong orc gf to throw you AROUND. If she can throw you over your shoulder, give a strong slap to your ass, she’s doing it

Also likes to spank you while you’re bent over her knee. Especially when she can call you “Naughty boy” ;)

Oral with tusks is difficult, she’d rather stick to hand jobs and fingering. She’s got those calloused fingers and strong forearms, so she can go for a while.

Sparser on the dirty talk, but will encourage you to make as much noise as possible. (“Tell me how it feels baby.”)

If she’s bottoming she prefers doggy style. Not only is it the most efficient with your size difference ( She’s dummy thicc) but she also loves the way you hold onto her hips when you fuck into her from behind. Dig your nails in, jerk your hips, really make her feel it

Loves having her neck kissed. It’s strong, corded with muscle, but she’ll moan so pretty when you lick at her pulse

Though she’s not especially loud. Mostly groans and grunts and swearing.

“Fuck, that feels food babe. Do that again.”

When you’re bottoming, she likes you to ride her. Now she can hold onto your hips, control the pace, and get to see your cute face scrunch up when she hits deep inside you.

(Her strap skills are obviously immaculate)

Also likes having her hair pulled. It can be when she’s on top as a little defiant tug, or a a degrading yank when’s being subby, it’s all good for her

Can’t really sit on your face (once again, size difference) but her fave position ti get eaten out in is her laid down on the bed and you sitting on your knees, especially if one of her legs is hiked over your shoulder. Her subby side can really come out then (“S-shit, oh my god baby”) but she also knows how to take control if she wants to (“Yeah, you like that pussy?”)

Loves washing you down in the shower after some sex and LOVES when you wash her hair. Nothing like a good scalp massage to end a wonderful night ❤️

[shining-m00nlight]

9

9. “Can you please go sit in another room or something? I can’t concentrate with you around.” 

Ned really needs to study for his upcoming exam. His wife has other plans.

Studying for the midterms was the worst! Ned sat at his desk in the little apartment he shared with his brand new wife. He was trying to concentrate on remembering all the different laws and everything else he would be needing for his exam, while Cat was moving around cleaning the apartment.

Ned was very much jealous of Cat, she was done with all of her classes so now she had time for other things, which included the household chores.

Ned felt guilty about letting her do all the work, she said not to worry about it but he promised he would take over all the tasks for summer time after he finished his exams. But to be truthful he would rather do all of these chores now then concentrate on his studying which was just underly boring.

While Ned continued to ponder on what was more interesting cleaning the drain in the shower or remembering the difference between first, second and third degree offences, Cat had finished cleaning and was now coming up behind Ned without him noticing until her hands were on his shoulders.

She started gently massaging his shoulders while placing her chin on top of his head. After a few minutes she stopped the massage and instead hugged him from behind effectively pressing her breast to his neck and upper back. Up to this point Ned had been able to keep his concentration on his notes but her breast touching him was enough to break his concentration completely.

"Cat! I need to do this. I need to get through this exam or I have to repeat the whole freaking semester" he told her firm but gently.

Cat signed: "I know, but I miss you. We live in the same apartment but all we do is study. And we are newlyweds we should be spending our days having sex"

Cat then put her mouth right next to his ear and whispered: "Lots and lots of sex. In lots and lots of places and in lots and lots of different positions." 

Her voice became more and more seductive by the second. Ned liked the sound of that very much and it physically hurt him to decline her offer but he had to.

"I know but as your husband I should also be able to buy you a nice house and other nice things like jewelry or whatever else you want. And I can't afford all of these things if I don't get a good job and I can't get a good job if I don't pass this exam."

Cat pouted a bit: "I would rather have your cock right now than fancy jewelry later"

Ned growned: "Woman, you are going to kill me!"

"Yes, but won't it be such a fun way of dying?"

"It would. But I can't make you a widow at 23 now can I?"

"No, that would be terrible," Cat agreed, still cuddling up against him. 

They stayed like this in comfortable silence for a few moments until Ned gently moved her arms from around him.

"I'm really sorry, my Love but I really need to do this. I promise when I am done with my exam we will have all the sex you want, on every surface and in every position you want"

Cat stuck out her lip and turned to leave.

"Fine, I find something else to do. But! I will hold you to that promise!" she yelled over her shoulder while walking towards the bedroom.

Their apartment only had two real rooms. Their bedroom and their living room that mostly functioned as a study, plus a small kitchen.

They would need a bigger place at some point especially with both of them wanting children as soon as possible. Of course they both knew they should finish school and have stable jobs before trying. As of right now they were still living of their parents' money which was a huge privilege for them to have. Their parents didn't mind as long as they were actively working towards achieving a good education and from that a good job. 

But Ned and Cat also knew that a child would be a huge distraction as well as a huge responsibility. And their parents would not approve. While they would love to welcome a cute cuddly baby into both of their families, they already thought that their marriage was premature and to big of a responsibility for them, so a baby would definitely be worse in their parents eyes. They had been honestly relieved when Ned and Cat told them that the reason they were getting married was not that Cat was pregnant.

For now they stayed in their small apartment with just the two of them. They would reevaluate their plans once they both graduate. Ned had returned to studying when he heard Cat entering the room again, but didn't look up from his notes to not lose his focus again.

After a while he heard little growns and moans from the middle of the room. He tried to continuously ignore it until he couldn't any more. When he finally turned around he was met with a perfect view of Cat’s ass in tight yoga pants. 

Her legs were spread and she was bent over. Her ass was in the air and her hands were on the floor. She was looking back at him through her opened legs.

His mouth had gone dry and his pants suddenly felt a bit tight. Cat flashed him one of her beautiful bright smiles. In combination with still having her behind presented to him he could barely control himself.

"Can you please go to another room? I can't concentrate with you around" he asked and tried to sound polite and controlled.

"I can't because there is not enough space to do proper exercise in our bedroom. The kitchen isn't a good place either, it would be kind of discussing, me sweating next to the food." 

She stood back up and turned around lifting her arms over her head and took a deep breath that filled up her lungs and pushed her breasts up which were only covered by a sports bra.

"Maybe I don't mind a little bit of your sweat in my food." Ned tried to not make a face at the thought in a desperate attempt to get his wife and her distracting breasts out of the room.

"Well if you are so eager to taste me you can come here and do it right now." She said casually while taking her leg and lifting it up in the air so her foot was above her head and her legs were spread as wide as possible.

Ned swallowed, still trying to gather up the strength to turn around and go back to his studying. He tried to tell himself that Cat would be just as beautiful in a week but he could only study for his exam right now.

"You are not playing fair now,'' Ned told his wife. 

Cat just looked at him innocently.

"I am not playing anything. I'm just trying to get some exercise in before I go to bed. A good exercise always clears your head, don't you think so? To get all the built up pressure out, to just realize it. And to feel the bliss after you finish ... the exercise. It is always so satisfying to finish. Don't you think so?"

Now she was grinning at him slyly from the ground. She had moved into the splits while talking. Ned knew he lost. His wife was much more interesting and fun than his stupid studying and she knew it. He could take up his studies in an hour or two again. His wife was right a good exercise would help him clear his head. 

[blessthisbrckenroad]

@laviexenrose sent: can i pls have a drabble of callum and lexi happy together? or maybe when they first met?? anything you want! go wild

———

Callum and Lexi weren’t trying for a baby, but they weren’t exactly trying to prevent one either. Still, it comes as a shock when Lexi sees those two little pink lines. Suddenly, she feels giddy and terrified all at once. She ends up so lightheaded from it all that she has to sit on the edge of the bathtub to steady herself, her eyes locked on those pink lines the whole time.

They weren’t prepared for this. Both she and Callum were so far from home and she still had two semesters left before she graduated. His full time job and her part time job were supporting them, but they still weren’t making enough to be comfortable with all the expenses that now lay before them - diapers and wipes, clothes, nursery furniture, doctor’s appointments, formula if they ended up needing or wanting it. Lexi had never given much thought to how her future children would eat. Now it felt profoundly important.

But they were having a baby.

She couldn’t help but wonder already if it was a boy or a girl, if it would look like her or Callum or an even mix of the two. Maybe it wouldn’t look much like either of them. Maybe it would look more like their parents or grandparents instead. Would it like sports or dance or something more academic than either she or Callum were interested in? Did Callum want a boy or a girl more? A boy might be more keen on hanging out with him on the farm but he would be an adorable girl dad too.

God, she already couldn’t wait!

But…would Callum share her sentiments? Was he ready for a baby or would their impending parenthood upset him? They had talked about children at length but it was usually after several years, a wedding, their move back to Wimberly, and after her bakery was up and running successfully. How far would a baby set all of that back?

Lexi suddenly felt like she was going to be sick and she couldn’t be sure if it was because of the nerves or if it was the morning sickness that prompted her to take the test in the first place. How was she going to tell him? Just saying it sounded kind of…boring? Anticlimactic? Doing it over a nice celebratory dinner or hiding the rest somewhere for him to find it just seemed a little on the cliche side. Maybe she would just…hold on to this little secret until she figured out the perfect way to surprise him. Callum already thought her nausea was just a little stomach bug. She could easily milk that for a few more days while she formulated a decent plan. There would be no harm in that, right?

———

Callum returned home from work about two hours later, give or take - two hours Lexi had spent scouring the internet for ideas. She clicks out of the tab in a panic when he moves across the living room to kiss her but if he notices, he’s doing a fantastic job at hiding it.

Good.

“Feeling better?” Callum asks as he pulls away, moving into the kitchen to drop several plastic bags on the table. “I stopped at the store on my way back and grabbed some groceries. I need to shower first but I’m making soup tonight. Should be a bit easier on your belly.”

“It comes and goes,” she answers, “but soup sounds great.”

Lexi can’t help but smiles as she watches him, imagining a baby with his ginger hair sitting in a high chair at the table or a child with her blue eyes standing on a little stepping stool beside him, learning to cut up carrots and celery. That, she can tell he notices because he looks at her for an extra beat before turning to head towards the bathroom. She was going to have to be more careful if she was going to make this work.

———

But the time Callum returns, Lexi has already unpacked the groceries and started preparing some of the ingredients. She was actually chopping the celery herself when his arms snake around her waist, making her jump. He laughs along with her.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “I’m supposed to be making dinner and you’re supposed to be resting.”

“I just started it,” she’s quick to reply. “I’m not entirely incapacitated.”

She wasn’t even sick!

“Go sit down. I’ll finish it.”

“Fine,” she groans as she moves back to the couch, eliciting another chuckle from Callum.

Lexi sits twisted backwards, arms folding on the back on the couch so she can rest her chin there as she watches Callum cook. The wide smile she can’t help but wear is thankfully disguised by genuine laughter when he turns on the radio, taking to dancing around the kitchen as he cooks.

It isn’t until later, as Lexi cleans their dishes and Callum puts them away, that he finally confronts her.

“Alright, spill it,” he says. A teasing smile spreads across his lips but the question is genuine all the same and it shows in his suspicious gaze and the uneven tilt of his brow. “You’ve literally never been so happy to do dishes. What’s up?”

“What? I’m always happy to do dishes!” She laughs her way through a failed attempt at defensiveness.

“You hate the dishes.”

“I do hate the dishes.”

He puts the last Tupperware in the fridge and moves to lean against the countertop beside her.

“Mmhmm. So what is it?”

Lexi wanted to wait. She needed to wait. The reveal would be so much better with some forethought, creativity, and planning. Pity that her tongue did not agree…

“We’re having a baby!”

She stands before him, water still dripping from her hands, bouncing on her toes like a little kid in a candy store. Callum, on the other hand, freezes in place, eyes widening.

“Wait, what?”

The way his voice deepens on the words makes her still instantly, suddenly more nervous than excited.

“We’re having a baby,” she repeats, more seriously this time around. “That’s why I’ve been sick. It’s not a stomach bug. It’s a baby.”

A best of silence passes, then two, then three. She can see the cogs turning behind his startled brain, slowly processing her confession, and then all at once he matches her ecstatic grin and she’s gathered up in his arms, toes barely touching the ground as he spins her. His hands come to her face after he sets her down again.

“Are you serious? This isn’t a joke?”

“If course not! I promise! Look, I can prove it!”

Lexi slips from his grasp and runs down the hall to retrieve the pregnancy test and had hidden in the drawer of her nightstand. He takes it in his hands gently like breaking it would somehow be akin to harming their baby.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, thrilled at first but then again with much more fear. “Oh my god. We have so much to do…”

“I know! I have to call the doctor and the guest room is going to have to be emptied for the nursery and we have to tell everyone else still. I don’t even know who to tell first. I mean, our parents obviously but then there’s everyone else. Maybe we should tell them together? We’re gonna have to call Isabelle, though, and she better answer me this time. I will not take being in Africa as an excuse.”

Callum laughs and pulls her in for one more kiss.

“God, I love you,” he breathes in the narrow space between them.

“I was worried you’d be upset,” she says. “It’s much sooner than we thought it’d be.”

He gives a breathy laugh. “I don’t care. We’ll make it work.”

Lexi nods, tears welling up in eyes. She’d claim pregnancy hormones but everyone knew she was a crier anyway.

“As long as our little bug is healthy, we can figure out the rest as we go,” Callum adds.

“Our little bug,” she laughs. “I like it.”

[daechwitatamicrecs]

Lmaooooooo the way the beginning TRIGGERED my mom anxiety!!!!!!! I legit had to take a breath and be like “its not YOUR mom, jo, settle down” ajskfkjasfhjafh are they universally this ridiculous?!

Mom is working on Christmas eve, huh, gee, I wonder if oc will need…. Someone else’s….. company…. >_>

Omg laser tag bdays…. You just unlocked a core memory…

An architect nooooooooooooooooooo whats what he wantedddddd

Not the super target fuck capitalism!!!!

Omg the fact that she got butterflies over his silhouette in the window

Oh god no not justice beaver

Ofc you made him blond you’re a MENACE hali a whole menace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wondered about them late at night, when your ex was fast asleep next to you. – daaaaaaaaaamn I’m such a sucker for this ‘I still thought about you when I was with someone else’ shit ajsfhkjashfjahfhf

Jdsioahfasfh I love that as I’m reading her having her meltdown the first night my brain supplies, “she needs to take a hot shower, she’ll feel better” bc brain is like ‘that’s what helps us :)’ lmaooo good job brain, you did it

He nods and moves a cabinet, revealing the coffee maker. “Ta-da.” – he’s my entire dream

Lmaoooooooooooo this poor man is all happy to see her and the way she’s lashing out at him makes sense and I understand it but it’s also making me laugh because he’s soooo baffled by her jkadshkjasfha and he is an ANGEL for taking her bullshit in stride like that, my god

“Ugh, all of these movies are the same.”

And yet you make no move to turn it off or leave. 

Big fat mood

It also means you don’t have to audibly admit that you were being weird and embarrassing with him in your kitchen. – I am in this picture and I don’t like it!!!!!!!!

“Jin will kill us if we keep this damn door open.”

Just as you step into the restaurant in full,  the door clanging shut behind you, a familiar voice hollers behind the counter. “Yoongi, don’t keep that damn door open!”

Lmaooooooo I love them

The vinyl covering sticks to your jeans as you try to slide. You’re forced to hop your way into the booth – this is so rrrrrrrgh it’s your writing making me furious again like how you manage to grab these hyperspecific moments that we all know and recognize and just sprinkle them all over the place IM MAD HALI I’M MAD

I think a lot of things about you. – this again. I’m onto you, min yoongi.

“Does your insurance cover therapy?” -o iajfdoiasfkjafhkj haj ai SCREAMED nothing will ever be this amazing ever again oh my god

Yoongi is in a green sweater and jeans, the sleeves of his shirt wrapped around his hands – literally how dare you

‘it has a cool tree on it’nk kjahskjfhjaksfh look shes a baby once shes done being a porcupine!

“You look just like your father!” – oooooooooooooooooof that made my stomach hurt

Lmaooooooooooooo someone save yoongi.

THE HAND HOLDING UNDER THT E TABLE HALI NOOOOOO I AM ROLLING AROUND MY FLOOR CLUTCHING MY FACE ANDAOISJFAOIJF NO NO NAUSFHUAO OMG

People whistle behind you and Yoongi throws a middle finger over his head – I’m fucking obsessed with him

“I mean, yeah” – I HATE HIM hgfvytdfytfgliuohiyguyfgt lmaoooooooo

“Come for me, then. Fucking show me.” – do nOT goddamn LOOK AT me rn jesus christ

I think this is the reader I relate to the most of yours and I am……… um reflecting a lot on what that says about me lmaoooo

This was soso good – the familial bits were intense, yoongi’s softness and understanding were infuriating because I’m in love with him and I can’t have him, oc’s entire headspace was lol um very eye-opening for me lmao, the smut was DElicious, the ending was NOT cheesy it was exactly right for them, and honestly I’d love this couple to become a holidays thing, let’s see how they’re doing for valentine’s day – now that she has a few months under her belt, how much progress has she made, how are they, whats the situation… and then the next holiday…. Etc… >_> you don’t have enough to write already, I know lmao

F*ck Christmas | myg (m)

❆ Paring: Yoongi x f. reader

❆ Summary: Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

❆ Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

❆ Word Count: 23,466

❆ A part of A Hyung Holiday Collaboration

❆ Warnings: Reader is miserable to start this and isn't very nice to Yoongi because she has Feelings and unpacked issues, a lot of nostalgia, mentions of depression and depictions of anxiety, mentions of parent deaths (Yoonig's mom, readers dad), a lot of familial guilt, reader isn't always The Best, Yoongi's dad has some failing memory with old age, Yoongi and reader and their endless pining, cheesy and very contrived scenarios, explicit language, recreational drinking, explicit sexual content including, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving) fingering (f. receiving), Big Dick Yoongi, bodily fluids, established safeword, honestly emotional fucking ok, reader being a bit in subspace/overwhelmed during sex, cheesy as fuck ending

❆ Collab Masterlist

❆ faq | my masterlist

A/N: Holy shit this is finally done. It is days, late, about 10k more words than it was supposed to be because I couldn't shut the fuck up, and it is not my favorite thing I have ever written, but I hope that you enjoy it anyway, and that you find some comfort if you have a hard time during the holidays like I sure as shit do (which is why this fic is legit so late ijsdgkjng). Eternally grateful to M for being my mental crutch during this process, reading to make sure it doesn't suck and constantly assuring me I'm not writing a total car wreck. Super pleased to have been able to write with @here2bbtstrash @gimmethatagustd and @nabiolive so please please please make sure you check out their fics when they're posted (Jai's is posted now so GO READ!!!!)

The monotonous shuffle of feet, mechanical click of the baggage claim conveyor, and three-toned chime before a muffled and completely unintelligible airport announcement work together in tandem to make a grating symphony. 

You spot your neon green, plastic suitcase drifting through the black flaps of the conveyer. As it nears, a cluster of people block your access, huddling and waiting for their bags right up against it. With an angry sigh, you navigate around them, throwing a glare as you reach for your back and haul it off the conveyor. 

People who crowd baggage claim when their bags aren’t out are at the top of your travel intolerances, second only to people who clap when the plane lands. 

Wheeling your suitcase toward the entrance as fast as you can, you look at your lock screen to see that your mother has blown up your phone with text messages.

[Mom]: Gate G

[Mom]: I’m at gate G

[Mom]: I still have the white Macaran. Gate G I am waiting by it.

[Mom]: What are you wearing? I will try to pull up closer. 

[Mom]: They are asking me not to wait. Do you have your bags yet? Is it close to Gate G?

“For the love of Christ,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the device in your pocket. 

The airport doors open, making a stuttering suction sound as they do. Cold air hits you in the face, making you flinch and squint. 

Just near the column marked ‘G’ your mother waits in her white car, waving wildly when she sees you. Despite your temporary annoyance, you give her a tight-lipped grin as she climbs out of the car, running to you with hand motions signaling she wants your bag. 

“Hi, hi!” she cheers, grabbing you quickly for a brief hug before making grabbing motions toward your bag. “Here, let me! Let me!”

“It’s fine,” you assure, trying to wheel the heavy bag away from you. You both end up wheeling it together, your mom refusing to let go of the handle until she’s opening the trunk and you’re hauling it into the back. “Thanks.”

Inside the car, the leather seats are heated and the hot air is blasting enough to threaten a nosebleed. You close the vents as your mother gets in, saying something you can’t hear over the blaring horns, slamming of her door, and fumbling with her seatbelt.

“What?”

“How was your flight?”

Awful. Long. Filled with absolute dread of the finality of your one-way ticket. Wondering if the movers had successfully delivered your shit to storage and dropped your car off at your mother’s house.

Naturally, you say none of these things. You offer canned responses with forced happiness that your mother doesn’t detect. She’s just happy to see you. The thought makes you soften a little.

Outside the world is covered in sheets of white. You know the winding roads well. Your mother talks about how it’s just the two of you for Christmas morning, but that she is volunteering at the homeless shelter on Christmas Eve. You take this in with a soft hum, eyes watching as you pass Mulberry street.

If you drive down another mile and take a left, you’ll be at Plaza Center, the mecca of your childhood with a movie theater, a Blockbuster turned Mattress Firm, Lucky Strike bowling alley, and a combination grocery store and liquor store where you used to huddle outside in the cold while waiting for someone’s fake ID to work. 

Soft music plays in the background as the tires hum on the road. You pass by the newer additions to the town – Starbucks, Olive Garden, Longhorns – they’ve all replaced longtime restaurants and a laser tag place that you remember having three birthdays in a row at. 

“Tired?” your mom asks, drawing you from trying to draw up the red brick houses from memory instead of watching them blur by. You hum. “You can take a nap later, get that airplane yuck off of you. Yoongi is working on fixing those damned cabinets. He ripped out the whole thing-“

“What?” 

“What what?”

“Why is Yoongi in your house?”

Your mother blinks at you owlishly as she pulls up to the stop light. You realize suddenly that she’s in one of your father’s old sweatshirts from university. It cuts you like a knife as you readjust yourself in the seat, suddenly tense and griping the door. 

“Min Yoongi still lives here?”

“Of course he does,” she scoffs and turns when the light changes. “Do you not keep up with him? You guys used to be such good friends.”

“Why is he at the house?”

“I just told you, he’s re-doing those damn cabinets. They had mold in them.”

For a moment, you just slow-blink at your mother. Min Yoongi is in her house – your house, now. You haven’t seen him since college. You knew he had moved back after school to help move his dad into a home, but he was supposed to leave once his dad was settled. 

He was… well he was supposed to be a big-shot architect. You just assumed he was. It occurs to you that you can’t remember the last time you even looked at Yoongi’s social media, though that was more on purpose than you’d like to admit.

Who wants to see what their life-long crush is still up to after they’ve long stopped talking to you?

“So you had him do our cabinets? He’s an architect, not a contractor.” 

“You really don’t know shit,” your mom laughs. “Yoongi took over his dad’s shop down on Miriam. Home Depot keeps trying to run him out, but most of us still like the comfort of Min’s Hardware. Plus, he spends the entire last quarter of the year building toys and the like for the children’s home and new chairs and furniture for the old folks home.”

You pause. “Is Old Man Min-“

It’s hard to bring yourself to finish the sentence. You remember the bleak affair of summer 09’ when Yoongi’s mother passed away, but you feel like someone would have told you if his father had passed. 

Thankfully, your mother shakes her head. “Still kicking. Yoongi didn’t want to sell out to one of those land development companies, though. They kept trying to pressure him – they want to open up a Super Target – but he said no.”

“Huh.” You lean back in the seat as your mom turns down your street. There is a sense of trepidation as you pass rows of brick-and-mortar homes with nondescript cars in the drive. “Good for him. Fuck Target.”

“Yeah, well. I wouldn’t mind a target, but I certainly don’t want it to replace Min’s.” 

A dark blue truck sits in the drive of your home. It’s hard not to focus on it, your eyes drifting from the swan-shaped mailbox to the giant blow-up decorations still wiggling, even covered in snow. The wind chimes are frozen on the porch and there’s a tarp on the swing set in front of the kitchen window.

The kitchen window, where you vaguely make out a shape with his back turned.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You have no reason to be nervous to see Min Yoongi and yet the thought of awkwardly walking into the kitchen like hey how are you threatens to make your demand your mom drive you back to the airport even though you have nowhere to go.

No home to go back to. No fiancé to-

Your mom shuts off the dark and slides out. She’s still rattling on about the developers buying up land and putting in condos and luxury apartments that no one can afford. You’re a beat behind her, slipping a little on the icy drive as you scramble out of the vehicle and retrieve your bag. 

Inside your chest, your heart pounds against your ribcage. You keep glancing out the window, wondering if you’ll suddenly see Yoongi’s soft, sweet face. Kicking ice off her boots on the porch, your mother opens the door as she talks on, breezing in and to the side to take off her boots.

You step in awkwardly. Unfamiliar. 

Everything in your view is the exact way you remember it, except suddenly… None of this feels like yours. Or like anything that has ever belonged to you. To your right, there is an open doorway that leads to the study – or the computer room as your dad chronically called it. It’s dark inside but you can see the indents on the carpet from the faded office chair, and the power-down Dell on the desk with multiple broken drawers. 

On the right is a cubby where you can kick your shoes off and hang your bag. You follow your mother’s example and take off your boots, feeling in a daze as your eyes drift down the hall. There’s a set of stairs that lead to the second floor just beyond the door to the computer room, and the living room and kitchen open up at the end of the hall.

Christmas music and the smell of cinnamon float down. There’s a lump in your throat as your mom walks toward the living room – and ultimately where the kitchen is. And Yoongi. Who is apparently hammering at something loudly, from the sounds of all the banging that drowns out the sound of Michael Bublé. 

“I’m gonna lay down,” you blurt before your mom can enter Yoongi’s line of vision. You’re frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, heart hammering. “The plane ride really exhausted me and I have a bit of a headache. Yoongi’s banging will make it worse.”

She frowns. “Well at least come to say hello.”

“I’ll see him later,” you assure her, moving toward the hardwood stairs and bending to pull up your bag. “It’s a small town, no big deal. Tell him I said hello.”

You’re halfway up the stairs when your mother says your name, irritation evident. You don’t respond, jogging the rest of the way. The bottom of your bag clips one of the stairs, making you stumble. You curse and recover before rushing down the right side of the hall, past the pictures on the wall and your open bathroom with the mermaid curtains straight into your room where you slam the door.

Leaning against it, you close your eyes and take a few breaths. In and out. In and out. Downstairs, the hammering pauses. You assume your mother is talking to Yoongi. Guilt eats away at you like a worm to an apple. You shove it down and walk into your room proper, trying not to think about how you want to avoid the man downstairs at all costs. 

Collapsing on your bed, you flinch and grab the mattress, forgetting how springy it is as they twang under the sudden weight. Your room is exactly how you left it. Aquamarine walls, a sea turtle lamp, a horrible collection of Justin Bieber memorabilia including a lunch box you can’t ever remember using, and an old box TV with a tiny DVD player. 

A broken lava lamp stands frozen in time on the white, paint-chipped dresser. You wonder if it even turns on anymore. The rolling closet door is open, empty save for extra sheets and towels and a couple of Vera Bradley duffle bags your mom never tossed out. 

Everything is the same and yet… you have never felt more like a stranger in your own home.

Pulling the scale pattern quilt from under you to wrap yourself in, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, although the hammering downstairs starts once again.

-

A knock on the door and your mom’s voice telling you to come eat dinner pries you from sleep. Your limbs feel heavy and your back and neck ache with the unfamiliarity of the springy bed. Your thoughts are honey-thick as you try to remember that you’re not in your apartment – your old apartment that is no longer yours – and that your ex is not with you.

Mouth dry and limbs sluggish, you manage to trek down the stairs, footsteps heavy and awkward. There's still Christmas music playing somewhere in the living room, but it’s at a manageable volume now. You try not to think about it too much, finding Christmas music particularly grating this year.

The smell of dinner drifts from the kitchen and your stomach growls viciously, reminding you that you only had cheese and crackers for lunch. You rub your eyes, entering the open concept area with the kitchen facing the living room and the dining room tucked on the side of the kitchen against the glass-paned windows that look out into the yard.

Your mom sets something on the table and straightens, gesturing to something on the island countertop as she says, “Will you bring those potatoes over, Yoongi? I keep forgetting them on the counter.”

Two things happen at once. 

The first thing that happens is the slow-blink turning of your head, suddenly aware that a man is standing in your kitchen looking at you. Your feet glue themselves to the floor and your mouth parts a little in surprise and confusion that there is another human being in your house outside of you and your mother. 

The second thing that happens is the surge of panic and curiosity slamming into one another, two rogue waves at war as they unsteady the sleeping waters of your mind post-nap. You feel the urge to turn on your heel and run back up the stairs, but you’re stuck staring at Yoongi, both terrified to see him and... well you haven’t seen him in a while. You’re curious. 

Yoongi’s hair is blonde - a color he hasn’t had in years - with silky lowlights that look really good on him. Though most of it is tucked behind delicate, round ears that are decorated with his signature silver hoops, a few rogue strands fall endearingly over soft cat eyes. He’s broad in the shoulders, the material of his shirt pulled taught over the hint of biceps.

And Yoongi’s face – devastating as always. You always thought that he looked like a child of the moon goddess, smooth, milky skin with a rose-flushed mouth. His mouth as always looks soft, and as it breaks into a smile now when he sees you, it feels like the entire world might spin out of control. 

“Have a good nap?” Yoongi questions. His voice is so much deeper, raspy, and soft, and nothing at all like what you remember. But it’s been how long since you’ve seen him? At least four years. Maybe five. 

“Huh?” you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your brain unable to connect the dots and form anything else.

Yoongi chuckles and ducks his head a bit, pink in the cheeks. He picks up the glass dish of potatoes that your mother asked for, rounding the island and putting it on the dining room table. He moves in your childhood home with ease, returning to the kitchen and popping up a drawer for a serving spoon.

“Jet lag, much?” that teasing tone of his is still there and you suddenly remember being in the ninth grade, hiding your face in your hands because he was poking fun at you for something innocent. “I don’t bite.”

“Why are you here?” Again, you’re unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. This time, however, you have enough sense to realize how rude it sounds. Swallowing past the rapidly forming knot of anxiety, you move toward the table. “You don’t have a headache from all that hammering you’ve been doing?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits down at the table across from where your mother has seated herself, pouring a glass of red for herself. “You seem to have slept through it fine.”

“Yeah, well.” You sit down next to your mom, suddenly feeling defensive. “A five-hour flight will do that to you.”

Yoongi hums, agreeing as he glances up at you again. You’ve had dreams about those damn eyes, written about them in childhood diaries. Wondered about them late at night, when your ex was fast asleep next to you.

Thoughts and memories of Min Yoongi paint several parts of your life. Childhood crush. Close friend. The subject of your dreamy sighs. The crush had worn off around college, but there was always that something when you looked at him. Perhaps the acknowledgment that he was impossibly beautiful and charming. 

Or maybe the inescapable fact that you might always harbor something extra for him.

Averting your gaze, you clear your throat and grab the bottle of wine from your mom, pouring a healthy amount. “Why are you ripping out the cabinets anyway?”

“There was mold in the back of them.” He accepts a plate of meat from your mother. “I came over to help your mom pull down that bone china she keeps hidden away and found it.”

You glance at your mom. “You couldn’t use a ladder?”

“You try having old hips,” she huffs. “Yoongi isn’t that far. He’s a doll and he’s always a phone call away.” 

There is nothing wrong with Yoongi helping your aging mom. At least, that is what you tell yourself as she asks Yoongi about a TV show both of them have been watching. You fill your plate and listen to them, hovering on the edge of a conversation you can’t contribute to.

“And then she had the nerve to act like she was holier than thou,” your mother agrees, shaking her head. “The Greens are going to get theirs, now that Alicent was exposed for a snake.”

Yoongi snorts. “I don’t know, no one ever gets punished the way we want on that show.”

“Who is Alicent?” you ask, dubious.

Both of them look at you. Your mom waves you off with a roll of her eyes at Yoongi. “She doesn’t watch TV. I’ve been begging her to watch for weeks now. Thankfully you caved in.”

“I just don’t have time for TV.”

Your mom pats your hand delicately. It doesn’t feel comforting like it should. “I know. Thankfully I can gossip about it with Yoongi.”

They seem comfortable. Your mom laughs as Yoongi rants about some character arch you have never heard of. You watch as your mom cuts into her steak alongside him, handing him sauce for his diced pieces. He thanks her easily, not missing a beat as he uncaps it.

Suddenly, you feel like a stranger in your own house. All this time you’ve been living on the other side of the country, Yoongi has been here doing... whatever it is that he does. Making himself comfortable in your home. Filling a space for you. And now that you’re here, it’s like you don’t exist.

No one asks you how you’ve been. No one asks for a single detail about your life. Whether it’s out of pity because they know you’ve been left out in the cold with no home, no fiance, and leave from work because... well they felt bad that you were cheated on and booted from your apartment.

It's like you don’t exist anywhere. You don’t exist in your mom’s life. You don’t exist in Yoongi’s.

And it drives you mad.

You get up abruptly from the table, startling both of them. “I’m feeling ill,” you mutter tightly. You’re moving away from the table as your mother sputters, surprised. “I’ll try to eat later, I’m going to lie down.”

“Do you need help up the stairs?”

Yoongi’s question and concern seem genuine. It makes the sudden gnawing feeling inside of you even worse. “No,” you snap. “Enjoy your dinner and conversation.”

They both call after you as you turn and hightail it out of the kitchen and toward the steps. Everything feels blurry and the tightening of your threat is the only warning of sudden tears. It feels silly and pathetic, to suddenly be worked up into a frenzy over – well you’re not really sure over what. But it doesn’t sting any less, whatever this sense of feeling left out is.

Crawling into your bed, you pull the covers over your head just like you used to when you lived here last. The tears burn hot down your face and you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as though you can grind the tear ducts to dust. 

You hate being home. You hate that it doesn’t feel like home. But most of all, you hate that at the height of your misery and embarrassing life, Min Yoongi now has front row tickets.

Somehow, you manage to sleep.

-

The sound of thunder wakes you up in the morning. No, it’s not thunder. Thunder comes and goes in slow rolls of sound, fading, and building in a gentle percussion. This is the constant booming of something bang bang banging in a repetitive pattern. 

Irritation drags you from sleep. You peel the covers from over your face, blinking and groaning in the morning light that filters through the curtain. Crust forms in the corner of your eye. You rub furiously until you see colors explode behind your lids.

Blinking until your room swims into view, you stare up at the ceiling a little longer until you remember that you’re in your childhood room. And that the loud banging sound coming from downstairs is probably Yoongi.

The sticky, nasty feeling from last night curls inside of you again. Less potent, but still there. Looking back on it, you feel a little dramatic. Watching Yoongi and your mom exist in a space so easily without you while you were there triggered a sliver of guilt you had been nursing since you decided to move home. 

Even now, you ignore the feeling as you slip down the stairs and toward the kitchen. The hunger is demanding and ever-present, and though you’re unsure you want to face Yoongi again after last night, you can’t ignore the dizziness from lack of food. 

Sunlight filters in through the kitchen window. Dust motes float in the air, suspended in gold light. There are pieces of wood and metal piles of hinges and knobs, screws rolling across the counter, and plastic-wrapped pieces of hinges and bolts, but it’s still your kitchen.

There’s still white backsplash against the sink with a yellow duck soap dispenser. There’s a black fridge with chip-clip magnets holding up pictures of your family, your graduation photos, and drawings that you created as a child. The island countertop is buried in Yoongi’s supplies, but you imagine that if it weren’t, there’d be fake fruit in a basket with mugs full of tea gone cold.

Today, Yoongi is in a black, oversized t-shirt, and a beanie. There’s a small speaker next to him, Michael Bublé singing clearly through the kitchen as Yoongi slides a shelf into one of the newly constructed cabinets. 

“You really like Bublé.”

Yoongi flinches, turning around to see you hovering and hesitating near the kitchen counter. He grins a little, wiping his hands on his pants. His blonde hair just barely peaks out from underneath the beanie and his face is flushed red as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the counter. There are dark circles under his eyes, but he otherwise looks beautiful first thing in the morning.

“I like Christmas music,” he offers with a shrug. “Tis the season.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes scan the kitchen. “Is there a way to make coffee in this mess?”

He nodes and moves a cabinet, revealing the coffee maker. “Ta-da.” You huff once in laughter before going to your fridge in search of creamer. You sense Yoongi’s dark gaze on you as you do. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm?”

“From last night? Feeling better?”

“Oh.” You shut the fridge and avoid his gaze. “Yeah.”

He hums. You flick the lid on the coffee and pause, looking around the kitchen for one of the pods to make the coffee. Yoongi leans over with a chuckle and pulls open a drawer, revealing rows of neatly placed Keurig cups.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. 

“Mhmm.” You pop it in and turn the machine on. “How long is your cabinet project going to take?”

“I’ll be finished by tomorrow. Why? Want me gone that bad?”

“You’re loud.”

“Comes with the nature of the job. Sorry, usually no one is here in the morning. Your mom is at the park.”

“Since when does she go on walks?”

He shrugs, dubious of your confusion. “She always goes on walks. Jeez, you have been gone a long time.”

“So what?” You snap, arms crossed. “You know everything about my mom now?”

“I spend a lot of time with her. I help her around the house and she brings me lunch and makes dinner sometimes. I keep her company.”

Tension creeps into your shoulders and neck. Pressing your mouth into a firm line, you turn your back to him, unable to make eye contact as the little sliver of guilt in you strikes at him, viper quick. “Cause I wasn’t here to do it, right?”

“That isn’t at all what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Your name leaves his mouth with a sigh. “Have I done something to upset you? You haven’t seemed keen on me being here since last night. I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up.”

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“I mean it’s been five years-”

“Sorry I left town because I had a life. I get it, I left home and left my parents here and my mom has been lonely since my dad passed. You’re a knight in shining armor, I get it.”

“What?” You ignore looking at him, despite shuffling closer to you as you pour creamer into your coffee. You feel a nasty tension in your throat. Somewhere, you know that you’ve launched a hate campaign against Yoongi within twenty-four hours of being home. And yet you don’t look at him. “I - wow. Okay, I didn’t think that of you at all. We seem to be on wildly different pages, why would I ever think that?”

Before you can answer, the front door opens and closes. Your mom's arrival has you slithering toward the kitchen’s exit, throwing Yoongi a glance. His frown is deep and genuine concern flickers in his eyes. “I don’t think that,” Yoongi ventures again, trying to keep you in the conversation. “I think a lot of things about you, but that isn’t one. This conversation has really gotten away from me, can we start over?”

“It’s fine,” you mutter. “Sorry for assuming.” 

Your mom waves, shrugging off ice-covered boots and a jacket at the door. You wave and rush out that you’re going up for a shower to wash off the airport funk. She waves you off and grins, heading down the hall and launching into a conversation with Yoongi. 

A nasty feeling trails you up the steps. You don’t even make it to the top of the stairs before you already know you’ve been irrational, emotional, and completely out of line. But seeing Yoongi after all this time, seeing the way he’s there for your mom in ways you aren’t, and nursing wounds of moving home against your will and plans… it’s a lot to swallow. 

In your room, you sit on the bed with your coffee on the nightstand, head dropped into your hands as you cry. It’s been coming all night. It’s been coming since you caught your ex in the apartment with another person. It’s been coming since you were no longer what they wanted in mind, body, and soul. It had been coming since you were asked to leave the apartments because you had moved in - not the other way around. 

The pain festering inside of you for the last two and a half weeks isn’t Yoongi’s fault. In fact, part of you is surprised that your grief and guilt at dedicating the last five years to someone who you didn’t even like that much and who has now cheated on you has surfaced in the face of Min Yoongi. 

It isn’t his fault that you rarely came home to start. It isn’t his fault that after Christmas two years ago, you didn’t want to come home at all. Didn’t want to be in a home without your dad. Didn’t want to be in a home that wasn’t in your new city, away from old failures, away from old hurts. Didn’t want to be in a home down the street from the Mins.

“Jeez,” you laugh at yourself, no mirth evident. “What better way to kick off seeing Yoongi again?”

-

Yoongi finishes the cabinets the next day and you manage to avoid seeing him again, unsure how to fix the weirdness. 

A few days later, you come down to see your mom on the couch, tucked into a flannel-patterned blanket, and watching Hallmark movies. You cringe at the thought of poorly budgeted, badly scripted movies. Your mom, however, has always loved them. And your dad always watched them with her.

Something softens inside of you. You can’t remember the last time your ex willingly watched anything they were uninterested in for your sake. Perhaps because they had long been fucking someone else. 

Shaking the thought from your mind, you trail to your mom, slipping wordlessly onto the couch and pulling an extra blanket over your legging and socks. Your mom shoots you a wide grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. She reaches over, patting your hand and squeezing it before settling in, keeping her hand on yours. 

Though you turn to the TV, your eyes sting as you try to focus on the plot of a newly single woman who has moved back to her sleepy hometown during the holidays. Naturally, there is a storied past with the beautiful but sensitive male lead who owns a failing bookshop. It’s unsurprising when the female lead takes a job there unwillingly, and you watch 

“These are very cheesy,” you observe, watching as the two leads fall in love over clumsily spilled coffees, one full of Christmas cheer and one that hates Christmas. “Why do you like them so much?”

Your mom shrugs. “They always have a happy ending, they’re easy to follow along, and they fuel that little hope that the holidays have something a little special.” She looks at you when you grunt and she sighs. “I know you haven’t had very good holidays the last few years. But you used to really enjoy them.”

“They’re just… too much. It’s just another day.”

“Hmm. They mean a lot to some people, though. Take Yoongi for example - he’s doing extra work at the shop selling wares, making pieces for Christmas, and trying to finish making toys for the children’s home this year. He hardly sleeps.”

You think about the dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes that morning. “That’s a lot.”

“He could use the help.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “You know where the shop is.”

“Yeah.”

Morning fades into afternoon. You find yourself shaking your head around a mouthful of a sandwich with crunchy chips in the middle as your mom settles next to you, placing a glass of iced tea on the table. Your legs are crossed and you lean forward to press greasy, chip fingers into the paper towel you’re using as a napkin.

“She is so stupid if she doesn’t believe him,” you mumble around your mouth full of food. “Like hello? He has no reason to lie to her.”

Your mom's laughter fills the room and she shrugs. Somehow, you’re on your third Hallmark movie, and you haven’t managed to move or do anything productive with your day, like unpacking your bags or looking at the computer room full of the shit that the movers delivered to your mother’s house now that you don’t have a house. 

“If she believed him,” your mom says with a sip of tea, “Then there wouldn’t be any drama. And without drama, there would be no movie.”

“Ugh, all of these movies are the same.”

And yet you make no move to turn it off or leave. 

When you finish your sandwich and settle back, full and bloated, you realize that you’re rather enjoying just a day watching cheesy movies with your mom. Even if they hit a little close to home on the narrative of your current situation. 

But no - you’re different. Your life is real, and you’re stuck without a home and without a place to go. Clenching your jaw, you force the memories and the words to leave. You don’t want to think about the way your ex gently asked if you had somewhere else to go. You don’t want to think about the words I’m sorry. I love you but I’m not in love with you anymore. 

I mean, you weren’t either but… marriage still seemed like an okay option. A good social move. Something you’d be content with, even if you weren’t head over heels in love.

“Here,” you hold your hand to her for her empty plates. “I’ll do the dishes.” 

Getting away from the TV gives you a second to breathe. The rush of the faucet drowns out the sound of the TV, warm water rushing over your fingers as you run the plates underwater.

Outside, the world is a blanket of snow. You can see Mr. Park across the street shoveling the drive as his wife gets into the car, the taillights kicking on. The grass is frozen, a sea of ice and frozen Christmas decorations.

In the drive, your car is parked next to your mom’s sedan. She hadn’t mentioned that it was delivered, but you don’t know where you would go anyway. You don’t really have any friends to visit. At least, not anyone you’ve kept in touch with enough to call up and go to lunch.

The absence of Yoongi’s truck reminds you that he had been working on the cabinets, drawing your eyes to his craftsmanship as you flip the sink off. With dried hands, you brush your fingers over the lightly stained wood. It’s smooth and cool to the touch, the curves and indents artfully done. 

Yoongi had always been an exceptional artist. His passion has been in buildings and even interior design, but you’re not surprised to see that he’s as easily a handyman and woodworker as he is anything else. 

You think back to what your mom said about him, alone for the holidays and working hard. A sour taste sits heavy on your tongue as you think about your barbed words. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you lean against the counter and pull your phone out, flipping through social media until you find his page. There isn’t much in the way of family and friends, but there are plenty of photos of new projects and a beautiful black cat. 

I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up. 

Heaving a sigh, you push off the counter and announce that you’re going to get dressed to run a few places, telling your mom to make you a list if she needs anything. 

Getting dressed is harder than you expect. The urge to crawl back into bed and go to sleep almost wins out, but you somehow manage to pull on the jeans and thick sweater, followed by a scarf and jacket.

There is something empty and strange about the motions. It feels like you’ve forgotten the movement, the slide of clothes foreign to your skin. After two weeks of making phone calls and arrangements for an over-priced hotel bed, you supposed you haven’t gotten dressed much recently. 

Picking up the list from your mom and giving her a kiss, you’re out of the door, glancing down at her slanted script. You huff, laughter cut short by the bite of cold wind. Of course everything she needs is from Min’s Hardware, though you had been planning to go by there anyway.

With a deep breath and squared shoulders, you get in the car and think about how the hell to apologize to Yoongi.

-

Min’s Hardware had its first building expansion when you were in tenth grade. You remember how excited you were when Yoongi told you that his parents bought out the recently emptied arcade next door to add a lumber department. Even in tenth grade, Yoongi had sketched out aisles and systems for the store, layout after layout of the most functional way to accommodate the expansion. 

Before opening day, the two of you and some other kids in the neighborhood had run through the aisles, the smell of cedar and pine and fresh sawdust so wonderfully potent it made you dizzy. Yoongi specifically had shown you the different types of wood and pliability, explaining what he would use each for. 

By then, it was summer heading into eleventh grade and he had already decided he wanted to be an architect. He had insane drawings for new shopping centers the next city over, and wild renderings of his dream buildings full of avant-garde but functional structures. 

From the parking lot, you can see that Yoongi still occupies the same two spaces Min’s has stood in since tenth grade. Except now it shares a parking lot with a Starbucks and Chipotle building, melded together. The line for coffee snakes around the building into the empty parking lot in front of Min’s, a mismatched creature of metal and purring engines. 

Icy ground makes you slip a bit before you steady yourself on the door handle, gasp stuck in your chest before you can breathe out slowly, confident that you won’t slide and bust your ass. 

From the outside, Min’s looks both the same and different. There is a new sign above the store, now with its own light humming in the dark, gray winter sky. Tinted windows prevent you from seeing inside entirely, but you can see the faint outline of racks as you approach. 

Standing in front of the double doors, you suddenly feel the urge to spin on your heel and run in the other direction. If the inside still looks the same, though, the counter is right next to the door, which means if Yoongi is there, he can see you.

Standing. Staring. Looking at the cold, metal handle of the door and not doing anything. 

“Rip the bandaid off,” you mutter to yourself. 

Yanking the door open startles you, the bell on the door chiming wildly with the force of your pull. It’s the same bell that was here when you were a teen, and a tingle slithers down your back at the memory. 

It's warm. The smell of mixed wood hits you, soothing and fresh. To your left is a counter with an elderly gentleman reading a book. He looks up behind the POS system, grinning at you. He’s dressed in a long sleeve shirt with a festive sweater to match the Christmas soundtrack playing over the speakers. 

Your eyes flicker to his badge and you fold your lips to stop the giggle that threatens to escape when you look at his name tag: Elf Ian. 

“Good afternoon, miss!” he greets, shuffling behind the counter. There’s no one else in the store as you crane your head away from the register, looking at the rows and rows of hardware and things for sale. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi?”

“Mr. Min is back in the carpentry section. I can take you there.”

You wave him off with a smile. “No, that's okay, I know the way.” 

“Really? You’ve been here before? You look like a new face.”

“It’s been a while,” you admit, admiring the layout of the store, each of the towering metal shelves marked with aisle numbers and departments: electrical, flooring, lighting, hardware, paint, heating and cooling, and so on. It’s not as comprehensive as a Home Depot or a Lowe’s, but Min’s has everything that a small town needs. “Back and to the right?” 

He nods with a smile. 

The Rockettes play overhead as you wander toward the back of the store. You take the paint aisle, admiring all of the colorful paint swatch papers. Your shoes scuff on the floor, speckled with some paint splatter near the spray section as though some kids got into the supply. 

You distinctly remember Yoongi accidentally spraying a bright pink into the air once. 

All of the pricing is written in neat, slanted handwriting on thick brown pieces of paper. You pause at the end of an aisle, reaching out to press a finger against one to trace the letters. You recognize the font from years worth of scribbled and pressed flat architecture designs. 

The carpentry section has rows and rows of wood of different shapes, sizes, and variety. Behind all of that is a sizable desk for specialty services, and you know that the door leads to a room that houses Yoongi’s woodworking shop. It had once been the bowling alley section of the arcade before Old Man Min bought out the unit. 

No one mans the tall, L-shaped desk. There are several binders with types of wood, types of stains, project ideas, samples, and frames. You smile when you see some you recognize, the peeling plastic of the front evidence of old age. 

A large counter behind the desk has a few wrapped items that Yoongi must have to be shipped or picked up. There’s a cup of coffee that looks like it’s gone cold, a jar full of wrapped mints for the taking, and a small button that says ‘push for service’ next to the POS system. 

Swallowing thickly, you press the button. An automated chime echoes from behind the wooden swing door that leads to the woodshop. Before Yoongi took over, his father used to make furniture, fill custom orders and make repairs. It’s no surprise that Yoongi has opted to take over this portion, especially if he’s making custom orders for the children’s home. 

The door swings open, breaking your trance. Yoongi pulls up short, eyebrows raise as he wipes sawdust from his apron. He’s in a sweater and jeans today, the sleeves pushed up to his elbow to help him work and his blonde hair shaggy and a little unruly. The pink sheen on his cheeks and nose is all you need to know he had been working pretty hard.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively, looking you up and down. You hate that he looks so guarded. “Coming to custom order a rocking horse?”

You grin. “Actually I was wondering if you did chairs?”

“Hmmm.” He shuffles toward the counter, dropping his hesitance as he leans on his elbows, a sideways smirk on his face. Despite everything, it makes your stomach flip. “We do all kinds of chairs. Rocking, dining, bar stools, even church pews.”

“Wow, Min’s really is the best and where expectations are beyond the Minimum.”

Yoongi groans and covers his face with his hands, flushed pink as you laugh at him. “That’s not even our jingle anymore, okay? I was a kid when I came up with it.”

“I thought it was cute!”

“Yeah, you thought Jackson was cute in the fifth grade too.”

“Isn’t he on his third kid?”

Yoongi gives a loud laugh. “Sixth, Miss I Failed Algebra Twice. He and Jiah have their hands full, I just dropped off a new crib yesterday.”

You whistle, crossing your arms over your chest. Yoongi looks at you, eyes glittering as he smiles. It does something to you, to see your childhood crush here and happy. It’s at such odds with where you are in your life that you don’t know what to make of it. Even Jackson is married and happy with kids. 

“Impressive. You do a lot.”

He hums in agreement and stands up to stretch. “Holidays are always a demand. I’m just trying to keep up to make everyone’s Christmas magical.” You scrunch your nose at that and he frowns. “What?”

“Why does Christmas have to be extra special? It’s just another day.”

He beckons you to come around the counter and to the back as he turns to head for the swinging door. “Come on, Scrooge. Let me spread the magic of Christmas and lead you on your journey to redemption.”

Ignoring the ‘employees only’ sign on the waist-tall swing door that leads to behind the counter, you scoff and roll your eyes. Yoongi stands in the doorway leading to the back, propping it open with a foot for you. As you pass him, the bright light of his shop and the smell of wood stain and chemicals hits you instantly. 

“What do I need to redeem myself for?”

He lets the door swing shut and follows you in, taking the lead as he heads towards a table filled with goods. “For whatever you feel like you need it for.”

Yoongi’s words feel ominous and tug at your heartstrings. You suppose you do feel the need to make up for picking a fight with him. Which is why you ended up here in the first place, despite your mother’s list. 

The shop is a little different than you remember it, but some things are the same. There are giant slabs of wood to choose from in neat shelving, massive wood-cutting machines and saws with warning labels and plastic cards over serrated metal, tubs of chemicals to cleanse wood and shelves of bottles of different liquids for all of Yoongi’s processes. 

At a young age, you were never allowed back in the woodshop. The first day Old Man Min had finally let you come around the corner was just as magical as it feels now. It’s large and daunting, with all of the unfamiliar machinery and the loud hum of an air compressor near the back of the shop. 

A wireless speaker stands on a cluttered counter, blaring holiday tunes over the whine of the compressor until the machine kicks off and it’s just the echo of Grandma Got Ran Over by A Reindeer. 

“It’s weird being back here again,” you murmur, eyes sweeping the toys and pieces of furniture Yoongi has on a table with a laminated sign: children’s home. “You’re really making all of this yourself?”

“Mhmm.” He leans against the table, crossing his arms. “Someone has to. They needed extra toys this year but specifically, some serious upgrades to the rooms of the residents. I’m doing what I can, free of charge, of course.”

“You’re a saint.”

He puts his hands together in mock prayer and bats his eyes before you break out into laughter. He shrugs and murmurs, “Just someone who wants to help. They deserve good furniture year-round, but especially on the holidays.”

“Since when do you like the holidays so much?”

“Since I’ve started spending them alone.”

The answer hits you in the gut. Hard. You stop admiring the shop to look at Yoongi. There’s a soft openness to his face that unnerves you. Brutal honesty offered in exchange for nothing. No expectation for you to share, but proof that he has enough trust for you - however unearned - to just admit what he feels out loud.

That kind of introspection and understanding of self terrifies you. So instead of sharing something of yourself or offering a gentle word to communicate that you get it, or you’re sorry, you gesture to the table where he has carving knives and pieces of wood. “What are you working on?”

If your shift in conversation bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Yoongi rolls with your stilted punches, turning and walking to the table. “Working on carving some designs into the drawer faces for these nightstands I made.” 

“They’re beautiful.”

And they are. Flowers and vines curl on the edges of the wood, perfectly placed in the four corners of the slab. You reach out a hand and hesitate, looking at him to ask permission. He nods and you press your fingers along the grooves he’s carved, following the rough cuts, careful not to get a splinter. 

“You’re still artistic as hell.”

“Thanks. It’s hard on my hands and then I have to sand them all with paper to get into the small details which is hell.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. His words about redemption echo in your head: for whatever you feel like you need it for. 

“Need help?” He looks at you, surprised by your offer. You’re a little surprised too, but the way that you snapped at Yoongi haunts you and there’s something… else that is gnawing at you and has been since you saw him in your kitchen that first night on your return. “I’m serious.”

“If you want to sand some of these down…” 

You nod. “I think I remember how. Do you still keep the sandpaper in that Husky drawer?”

He gives you a crooked grin and nods. “Oooo she remembers. I’m honored.”

You feel warmth in your cheeks. “Tell me what needs to be sanded. I’ll do my best.” 

With a smile larger than what you probably deserve, Yoongi quickly rehashes how to hold the sanding paper, the technique he wants you to use, and assigns you a pile of drawer faces. With your project in front of you, Yoongi goes back to his own thing, the steady hammer against his carving tools drowning out any thoughts swirling in your mind.

At first, it’s slow going. Your shoulders are tense and you keep glancing at Yoongi, a little nervous and wondering why you offered to help. It wasn’t what you had intended to do when you walked into the store, but it feels like the best way to say sorry.

It also means you don’t have to audibly admit that you were being weird and embarrassing with him in your kitchen. 

Time passes and the tension in your shoulders begins to bleed out. The scritch scritch scritch of the sandpaper in your hands is soothing, the repetitive motions creating a soft buzz in your ears as you zone out on your task. 

Focusing on small things has always been a good thing for you. Even when you were little, having something that you could throw yourself into and let your anxieties and thoughts drift away to somewhere far away where they could not hurt you was paramount. 

Now, as the time passes without you noticing, thoughts of your cheating ex-fiance and old apartment melt away like ice on a snow drive. it’s just the pressure in your fingertips, manipulating the sandpaper into different folds to get into the creases of the design. 

Yoongi’s presence stirs your stomach and heart as you look up. He looks over your shoulder at your work before leaning in close to pick up one of the slabs of wood. He’s removed his gloves and runs his fingers over the designs. 

A shiver brushes up your spine as you zero in on Yoongi’s fingers. You have no idea if it’s your newly single status or the fact that it’s Yoongi that makes you stare open-mouthed and hypnotized. His fingers look a little callused from working wood, but you wonder how they’d feel if-

“Not bad,” he hums, giving you a grin before setting down the wood. “I’m pretty impressed. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Please,” you mutter, looking down at the table and picking at splinters. “I helped you for hours when we were kids.”

“That’s cause I helped you with your math. It’s getting late and I’m a little tired. You hungry?”

You realize that you are. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you flip it over to see a few texts from your mom and realize that it’s almost seven at night. A sound of surprise escapes you and Yoongi laughs, tapping your elbow gently before walking away.

“Come on,” he insists. “We close early on Sundays. Help me turn all this shit off and close up and we can get food. My treat for helping out.”

“Yes to food, but you don’t have to-”

He waves you off. “Let me do something nice for you, yeah?”

Closing the store feels oddly familiar. While you have never watched Yoongi do it as the owner and operator, there were times as a kid when you finished your homework at the woodshop counter with Yoongi while you waited for his dad to get off and take you home after school. 

The Min’s don’t live far from your home and based on your mom calling Yoongi for every little thing, you assume that he lives in his childhood home now that his dad is in a home for elders. 

Outside, the world is winter-dark and bitter cold. it’s not snowing, but it’s that dreary in-between that makes everything feel heavy and cold-wet. Yoongi shuffles you toward his truck, both of you shivering and cursing as you slide into the cab and he turns it on, cranking the heat and turning on the seat warmers.

“Nice truck,” you comment. And it is nice. “New?”

“New-ish. Being the owner of Min’s Hardware really has its perks.”

You hum. “So you do own it? Just you?”

He nods, putting the car in drive and heading toward an unknown destination. Yoongi keeps his dark eyes on the road as he says, “Bought it from the Old Man when he decided to go into a senior living facility. He’s up at Retger’s - he loves it - but he wanted to put everything in my name before his mind started slipping.”

“I see.” You pick at the hem of your jacket, something heavy settling in your stomach. “How is he?”

“Happy. They have a great staff and a lot for him to do. His memory is on the downside of things. He always remembers me but he gets confused about his days and when I last saw him or what we talked about.”

“Is that hard?”

You almost kick yourself for the question. It slips out before you can ask, and you think of course it’s fucking hard. It’s his dad.

“It is,” Yoongi admits with a drawn-out sigh. Dead air hangs between the two of you as he navigates the backroads of your home, little streets and turns stitching into your very being. “Not sure what’s worse, though,” he adds, glancing at you. “Knowing that the days are numbered and being able to prepare, or losing him suddenly.”

It’s like a constrictor squeezes your windpipe as you look out the window. You can’t see the stars through the tops of the trees, but you get a glimpse of a swollen moon for a second. It’s beautiful and bright, your new point of focus as you nod. 

“I think we can agree that losing a parent is hard,” you offer. “Doesn’t matter how much notice you had.” You hesitate, then go for it. “I haven’t really figured out how to navigate life post-dad. It’s part of why I never come home. I think… I think my mom suffers from it a little.”

For a few moments, Yoongi is silent. You sink further into the seat. Though the admission weighs heavy on you, pressing you down down down into the leather seat, it also feels… good to admit it. Like running a burn under freezing cold water, the sting poignant but soothing at the same time. 

“I think that it’s okay to have your own life.” His voice is very quiet and he looks at you sideways. “And that we all deal with grief in a manner of ways. No one begrudges you for it, least of all your mom. I think you should cut yourself some slack.”

“Hmm,” is your only reply. 

Orange parking lot lights come into view. You chuckle a bit when Yoongi turns into Mars Diner. It’s something out of a Jetson’s episode, with large metal pieces like Saturn’s tilted rings arching over the building and a sun-bleached rocket blasting into the sky.

The lot is full and through frosted windows, you can make out shapes of people in booths. A few kids hang around outside, leaning against their cars and sitting on tailgates, breath misting in the cold. 

Yoongi parks the truck and hops out. You’re quick to follow, shutting the door with a firm click and hiding your hands from the cold in your jacket pockets. The door opens and the bell dings, sound pouring out as a family deposits themself onto the sidewalk.

“Hey there Yoongi,” one of the men says, backing up to hold the door open as the two of you approach. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Scott, it’s going well. How are those new stairs treating you?”

“Sturdy as can be. Thanks again for swinging by to help out.” The man - Scott Ledgfield, you realize - looks at you and squints before he says, “Holy shit kiddo, I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager.”

You look at the town’s local pharmacist with a tight grin, immediately feeling the eyes of his family and friends turn on you, ears pricked by the sound of someone old-but-new returning to the neighborhood. You give a small wave to the people you know.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Just got back. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Ledgefield.”

Your mom’s friend opens his mouth to perhaps ask more but Yoongi shuffles you toward the door and throws a hand in a farewell wave. “Jin will kill us if we keep this damn door open.”

Just as you step into the restaurant in full,  the door clanging shut behind you, a familiar voice hollers behind the counter. “Yoongi, don’t keep that damn door open!”

Inside the diner is exactly how you remember it. A round kitchen sits at the core of the building with two large serving windows facing the door. A full, 360-serving counter circles the kitchen with red vinyl stools in front of them, and booths with planet chandeliers over them are full of people looking over laminated menus.

At the helm of it all is Kim Seokjin standing at the register as he rips a receipt out of the machine, grinning as he hands it over to the woman he’s ringing out. There’s a chrome-color apron tied around his waist and he has a rocket ship name tag that says: Captain Kim.

“Wow,” you mutter as Yoongi waits patiently for the couple in front of him to pay. “Jin running this place with his parents now?”

“Mhmm. Kim Senior is in the back still making everything and his mom does all the billing and admin now. Jin does… well, what doesn’t he do?”

“Yes,” Seokjin agrees as the couple leaves and he leans on the counter, a plastic grin on his face. “What don’t I do?” His eyes slide to you. “Huh. I heard you were coming back to town and thought they were bullshitting me.”

“Who is they?” 

He waves his hand, before telling another server to jump on the register before he opens a swinging piece of counter open with his hip. “You know, the collective they everyone uses when they’re referencing the entire town.”

“I see.”

Seokjin looks the same as he did in college - broad shoulders, narrow waist, beautiful face and dark eyes that shine with trouble or mirth, depending on who you ask. He gestures to you and Yoongi to follow and you do, heading to the back corner near a frosted window that still has plates and baskets on the table.

“How have you been?” Seokjin asks as he begins collecting the previous diners' things. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you back here.”

“I’m okay. I think it’s just temporary, I haven't worked it out yet.”

“Hmm, we always say it’s temporary and now look at us - Yoongi is running Min’s and I’m one burnt hash brown from being spatula’d by a customer.” 

The vinyl covering sticks to your jeans as you try to slide. You’re forced to hop your way into the booth as Seokjin places the dirty plates and dishes on a round platter and grabs a bottle of cleaner from behind Yoongi’s side of the booth.

“Well,” you venture awkwardly. “There’s nothing wrong with being home, right?”

“No,” he agrees and gives you a look that you can’t read. “There’s not.”

Awkward silence hangs in the air at his tone. You chew on your lip and can’t help but feel like somehow you’ve offended him. You weren’t really friends with Seokjin growing up, but he was a friend of friends, and you knew him well enough to attend birthday parties growing up.

Now, you reach for a menu and busy yourself with it as Yoongi clears his throat and asks how business has been with the holiday only a few days away. Seokjin’s tone with you melts away as he answers Yoongi’s question, slinging a towel over his shoulder while chatting. 

A girl who looks in her late teens comes over with an order sheet and pen, sending Seokjin back toward the register where someone has a gift card that no one knows how to ring up. He leaves with a roll of his eyes as the server takes your order before scurrying away.

“Don’t let Jin make you feel weird,” Yoongi says airly, looking over the menu. The dim light from Saturn and Uranus reflect in his dark eyes when you peek at him over your menu. “He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder.”

You smack the table with your menu. “Why on earth does he think that?”

“Have some respect for the decor. We’re not on earth, we’re in space.”

“Yoongi.” 

“Look,” he sighs, putting his menu down. “When you graduated, you were very hellbent on letting everyone know that you didn’t want to come back. Then you got a very nice job in the city, and did just that and never turned back. Which is fine, I respect the hell out of you for it. But you didn’t talk to anyone, and now that you’re back under… whatever circumstances, you act like being here is going to hurt your reputation.”

“I’ve barely seen anyone while I’ve been here.”

“It’s… the posture and the way you look at everyone.” You frown and he grins, reaching over the table to poke the space between your eyebrows. “It’s that,” He insists. “You look at everyone with a very intense scowl and like you have better things to do. That’s all.”

“Do you think that?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

He looks up at you, expression soft. “I think a lot of things about you. Having a chip on your shoulder isn’t one of them.”

Before you can unravel the weight of his words and the rush of something you feel in response, the server returns with your glass of hard cider and Yoongi’s dark beer. You mull over his thoughts while he places his order and you rattle off your favorite, which you’re pleased to see is still on the menu. 

Quiet settles over the booth as you sip your drink, averting your gaze. He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder. 

When you think about it, you realize that you sort of do. 

Back when you had graduated high school and went to college just an hour away, you swore you wouldn’t go back and take up a job just to stay close to family and what you always knew. Coming from a small town, you felt like you had yet to see the world or experience anything real.

Even in college, it always felt like you were too close. All the same kids you went to high school with became your apartment neighbors and your university classmates, and everyone went to the same parties and fucked the same people.

It was like watching high school repeat all over again. Bringing home drama from college to the holidays, and then hearing what so-and-so did while they were home from school. 

The thought of ever coming back was suffocating. So you took the first job you found that felt like it was lightyears away, stuck right in the middle of corporate America in a screaming city that you could hardly sleep in for the first few months because you were overwhelmed and a little afraid.

City life had become addicting though, and seeing all your little hometown friends go back to mom-and-pop jobs while you climbed the corporate ladder, got engaged and sent really nice presents home as an apology for going to Aspen for Christmas instead of seeing your parents felt powerful and liberating. 

And then your dad died on Christmas. While you were out with friends at a resort. That had been the first blow, the first reason to start thinking that the holidays weren’t for being cheerful, or for celebrating or for… anything, really. 

With that mindset, you spent the next Christmas with your fiance tucked away in your apartment, just the two of you. It had been your anti-Christmas, doing everything that was the opposite. You watched horror movies and ate popsicles, you decorated your house for Halloween and Valentine's day, you did everything possible to forget that you weren’t home opening presents with your parents - no just your mom now - and it worked. 

Now, you’re sitting in your hometown diner across the table from the one person who has always been the exception to the rule, with Christmas music blaring over the speakers and every person wishing you a happy holiday that walks by the table. 

A pit opens up inside of your stomach as you stare at the bubbles rushing to the top of your cider. The same, nasty feeling that made you snap at Yoongi in the kitchen rises up instead of you, a hydra ready to grow more heads and become an untamable beast.

“Where did you wander off to?” Yoongi’s question startles you from your thoughts and you look up at him. “You were so caught up I thought you might make your cider explode like Professor X.”

You laugh, surprising yourself. “Did you just make an X-Men reference?”

“Yeah, I still like comics, okay?”

You hum. “I was thinking that…” You take a large swig of your cider to press the tightness in your throat back. “I was thinking that maybe I do have a chip on my shoulder. I just… the holidays honestly bring out the worst in me, and I think I was already sour about being home.”

Like your admission of guilt on the way over, you feel lighter admitting your thoughts to Yoongi. There’s a pause in the conversation as your server puts down a burger in front of him and your chicken sandwich in front of you. 

“I think,” Yoongi says slowly as he pops a fry in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. “That it’s really easy for the people here to write off anyone who dares to do a little bit better than what they grew up with. For people like Jin, he always knew he’d come back home. I think it’s equal parts jealousy and wanting respect.”

“I don’t mean to make anyone feel disrespected,” you murmur. “Honestly, my distaste for coming home is more to do with the time of year than anything.”

“How so?”

Between bites of your dinner, you tell Yoongi about how your holidays have been over the last few years. How you stopped going home for them because it felt suffocating to be in a house with parents who didn’t understand anything about your love for being somewhere far away. How you stopped going home because if you stayed away with your friends and coworkers, you didn’t have to see how much they missed you.

All this time, you’d been running from guilt. Especially after the passing of your father. Even the sound of holiday music and the pressure to make plans to visit and buy gifts for people you were now somewhat unfamiliar with was enough anxiety to make the thought of Christmas and all of its bullshit unbearable. 

Once your dad died, the thought of the holiday season was even worse. It meant going home and crying on Christmas because it was just you and your mom. It meant getting thinking of your pity text messages instead of well wishes and happy holidays. It meant forgetting a pair of scissors to open gifts because that was your dad’s job, and it meant that there was an inescapable void in your home. 

Yoongi settles against the booth, looking at you with sad eyes. But what’s more, there is empathy there. Understanding. You don’t feel pitied or judged by Yoongi and the relief that washes over you as you spill your guts out at your favorite dinner is overwhelming.

You get another round of cider and you tell him about your cheating ex. How you were kicked from the apartment that hadn’t been yours from the start. How it’s one more negative feeling associated with Christmas, and how it was forcing you to go back to a place you wanted to see least of all, during a time you hated. How you… didn’t even care so much that the relationship was over. That you were just angry about having to find somewhere else to live and a little embarrassed that everyone saw it coming but you.

Sipping his beer, Yoongi sighs. “I’m going to say something that I want you to consider, and not take personally.”

You push around a cold french fry on your plate. “No promises.”

His smile is fleeting. “The holidays didn’t steal these things from you.” 

The words hang heavy in the air between the two of you. 

Elsewhere, the music has turned down a bit. It’s getting later and the dinner rush has faded to a soft hum in the background. The bell on the door chimes less and there are more empty booths than there are full. Seokjin disappears to the back for a much-earned break. 

It’s a simple concept that Yoongi has given you and yet you want to fight him on it. 

The holidays didn’t steal these things from you. Well no, they hadn’t. But it seemed that your bad luck was recurring, cycling back at the same time every year. Doomed to make your dread stronger and stronger with each passing Christmas. 

“That might be true,” you admit. “But it’s not like I’m the only person who hates the holidays. I mean, at least I have a reason and it’s not some sort of anti-corporate America speel.” He opens his mouth but you cut him off. “Which, by the way, is a very valid point. Hallmark makes all of its money on being a Christmas vampire feeding off the people like me who have trouble going home for the holidays. Except I reject it.”

“There is another alternative.” 

“And what’s that?”

“Embrace that life fucking sucks but eventually we can figure it out. If we want to and if we have the means.”

“What if we don’t have the means?”

Yoongi gives you a severe look. “Does your insurance cover therapy?” You nod. “Good, you have the means. If healing from this anxiety and guilt is something you’re interested in. Come on, I want dessert.” 

-

Later that night, when you have had an overwhelming amount of fudge and talked to Yoongi about anything and everything that doesn’t involve Christmas or any of the horrible feelings you’ve spilled to him all day long, you lay in bed flicking through your phone on one hand while you hold a thin, plastic card in another.

Squinting as the phone brightness increases when a new webpage is loaded, you manage to find what you’re looking for, typing in your insurance information and answering a few questions before you hit send. 

Once done, you set the phone on the nightstand and settle in your bed, heart pounding as you stare up at the ceiling and wonder how fast you’ll hear back on a request for a therapy consultation. 

All the while, Yoongi’s words circle round and round in your mind: Embrace the fact that life fucking sucks, but eventually we can figure it out. 

You roll on your side and squeeze your eyes shut and dare to hope that maybe Yoongi is right.

-

A routine nestles its way into your life before you’re aware of it. You get up and go downstairs for breakfast.

Once in the dining room, you have breakfast with your mom, trying not to get queasy over the fact that your dad’s chair remains empty at the head of the table. Sometimes, Yoongi is there in the morning and has breakfast with the two of you. Those days are much easier to fill the silence.

After breakfast, you shower and pick through your belongings, trying to rearrange your old room and make it somewhat adaptable to the lifestyle you had at your apartment. Adjusting to the fact that your mom is up at six in the morning on the dot and is ready for lunch by eleven nearly drives you to the edge, but you manage.

Most days you find yourself wandering to the back of Min’s Hardware and asking if Yoongi needs help. He always seems surprised to see you back, no matter how many days in a row you find yourself there, chewing on the corner of your lip. 

The silence that comes with helping Yoongi has become an addiction. You notice that he no longer plays Christmas music in the shop when you’re around, opting for just general pop. You’re both thankful and a little embarrassed, but you say nothing as he gives you projects to sand or stain. 

When you’re both tired and your fingers are cramping and worse for wear, you break for lunch. Sometimes you go to your house where your mom has fixed you both a meal. Other times, you pop by the diner where Seokjin gives you lunch on the house.

Seokjin comes around, the more he sees you with Yoongi. You’re still a little extra nice around him, trying to prove that you don’t think you’re better than him. You just… don’t know how to be him. Don’t know how to settle into life like everyone else so easily has. 

It’s two weeks in that Yoongi upends your carefully crafted routine by leaning against your workstation - you don’t know when it became yours - and says, “What are you doing for Christmas Eve? I know your mom is volunteering and she said you weren’t but I don’t want to assume you’re… not doing anything.”

Today, Yoongi is in a green sweater and jeans, the sleeves of his shirt wrapped around his hands as he works. His hair is unstyled, showing just how long it’s gotten. It’s darker at the root where his natural color grows in, but even so, he looks beautiful as ever. Unsettlingly beautiful. The kind that makes you a little shy when he puts his full attention on you these days, especially when he shows you how to do something by gently touching your elbow or your wrist. 

“Ummm.” You race to think of a response, but the words are sticky in your brain with his proximity. Usually, he does his own things, but every time Yoongi comes close these days, your brain gets a little out of sorts. “I was going to do like my little anti-Christmas thing and watch Halloweentown, I guess.”

“Maybe one day I’ll join you on that. For now, I wanted to see if you wanted to um - join me.”

“Join you what?”

He presses his lips flat and raises his brow at the poorly articulated question. “For Christmas Eve. It isn’t very exciting or anything, but I usually have dinner at the home with my dad. They make a great honey ham and then Seokjin has a party at his house after everyone leaves their family dinners. Alcohol is encouraged.”

“Oh.” You blink once. Twice. “You want me to have dinner with you and your dad?”

Blossom-pink blush spreads over Yoongi’s cheek and nose. You chew your bottom lip as you watch him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he picks at stray splinters on the table. “I just thought maybe you didn’t want to be alone.”

Yoongi’s words from a few days ago echo in your mind when you asked when he started being such a fan of the holidays: when I started spending them alone. 

The thought of spending time with Yoongi with his dad, tucked into a corner of an elderly home with cheesy holiday decorations and staff that talks too gently, and putting on a show for those who feel alone and sad is dizzying. It terrifies you. It makes you want to run. 

Which is why you swallow past the stone in your throat and say, “Um. Sure. Yes. I would like to go with you.” 

He bites his bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. You clench all over, seizing up at how cute he is when he does that. “Really?”

“Yeah, Min. Really.”

“Wow, you haven’t called me Min in… a min.”

“God that was so cheesy.”

“Mhmm. We’re closed tomorrow because I’m helping out at the children’s home but I’ll pick you up at five Saturday. They serve dinner really early there.”

“Okay.” 

Yoongi grins, all gums and round cheeks and shining eyes and for a moment, you forget that you’re supposed to be heartbroken and sour and pitiful. His smile stops everything and you immediately want to say something clever to make him do it again.

Instead, you just nod awkwardly and say, “Okay.”

-

Piles and piles of clothes litter your floor as you yank on an oversized peacoat and rush to the bathroom to check your outfit. You’ve been through at least fifteen different combinations and messed up your neatly place hair, and you still are unsure what the fuck you’re supposed to wear to a Christmas Eve dinner at an elderly home with the Mins.

You are very out of your depth.

When your phone dings and you see that Yoongi has arrived to get you, you scream in frustration and decide that wide-leg jeans paired with black combat boots, a black turtleneck and an oversized coat will have to do. It’s something you would have worn back in the city, but you’re unsure if it’s a little too casual for this.

Outside, the wind snaps against your face, stinging your nose and lips. You fight the urge to lick your lips and remove the very faint, pink lip stain there as you rush to the truck where Yoongi waves enthusiastically. 

Yoongi’s gummy grin warms you more than the heated interior of the cab when you jump into the passenger seat, shuffling the crinkling gift back in your lap as you shiver and stick your hands in front of the air vents to warm them. 

“You look nice,” Yoongi says as a greeting, putting the truck in reverse and looking in his mirrors. “What’s the gift?”

“Um-” Embarrassment heats your cheeks immediately. “I uh, got your dad something? I felt sort of weird showing up without a gift. I don’t know. Is that stupid? I can leave it-”

Your name is soft on his lips as he pauses in the middle of the street to look at you. You stop your rambling, staring at him. His eyes are dark pools, glittering in the dying afternoon sun as he smiles at you. His hair is shaggy again today like he air-dried it and the tawny colored coat makes his hair even more vibrant. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yoongi says gently, smiling. His lips look soft and pink today - well they always look like that, but you notice a little extra today. “That’s not stupid. It’s incredibly kind.”

“It’s - um - I know he used to really love reading all those mythology books and he was fond of the stuff with Odin and Thor? So I got him a Norse mythology one? It had a cool tree on it.”

For a few moments, Yoongi stares at you, unblinking. The truck is in drive, but he has his foot on the brake so it just sits in front of your house collecting little bits of snow. The weight of his gaze threatens to make you melt into the seat. You drop your gaze to the red and green package in your lap, trying to figure out how to explain that the idea was dumb.

“You are incredibly thoughtful.” Yoongi’s voice is so soft you’re almost sure you imagined him speaking at all. You glance up and he has a look you can’t unpack on his face, but it’s something like fondness, perhaps. “He will absolutely love that. I got him an Egyptian one.” 

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi takes a hand off the wheel and reaches over the center console to squeeze your hand where it’s gripped tight on the present. His fingers are calloused and rough from the years in the shop, but his touch is soft. Reverent. Your hand feels like it’s tingling even after he lets go and says, “I promise. Thank you. It’ll mean a lot to him, but it means even more to me.”

Still a little nervous and dizzy from the simple touch of his hand, you nod. 

Finally, Yoongi pulls into the road and starts driving, quiet as his eyes focus on navigating to the center of town. Music plays softly in the background and you glance out the slightly frosted window. 

Outside, families unpack themselves from cars, hurrying in bundles of jackets and loaded with presents to the doorsteps that are cast open for other family members and friends to help them in. Your heart squeezes at the thought and you look away from all of the houses and lights, instead focusing on the lines painted on the road. 

It feels like forever ago it was your family casting open your doors to house Christmas Eve with your extended family. But your uncle and his wife had long since moved away, and their kids had their own kids to celebrate with, and though the invitation was probably there for you and your mom to visit, it felt weird being with your dad's family when your dad was… not around. 

“Dad may or may not remember you,” Yoongi hums as he drives. “I think he will because he’s good about people from the past, but he might not get your name right. I don’t correct him because it can confuse and frustrate him, so just go with whatever if you can.”

“Of course. I’ll just follow your lead.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he drives with one hand on the wheel, one hand hanging off the center console where he leans on his elbow. “He has a little trouble with train of thought, just let him get it out. He hates when you try and finish sentences for him.”

You smile. “He’s always hated that. You were the most impatient son ever.” 

“Well, practice has made perfect. I’m a changed man.”

“Uh-huh.”

The home is covered in holiday decor as you expected. Cars line the lot of what would look like apartment buildings if the sign out front didn’t indicate that it was a senior living center. Honestly, they look better than most of the apartments you’ve had in the city, a single reminder that everything is so much more affordable when you step out of your self-made comfort zone.

Ice and snow crunch beneath your boots in the parking lot. The two of you hurry along, shivering and laughing in the cold. Yoongi surprises you when he pulls you in by the waist, pressing you to his side to walk in a quick, albeit warmer, huddle to the main building. 

Warmth hits you in the face and melts back the cold as you step inside, a shiver racking up your spine. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the lobby with a ‘donated’ sign in the front thanking a local company for the tree, and there are hand-crafted ornaments that from another sign, inform you they were made by the children in the orphanage on the other side of town.

Christmas music tinkles lightly overhead as Yoongi leads you to a counter where a woman with a Christmas vest and a bright smile greets him enthusiastically. It’s obvious that she’s familiar with him as she rattles off how his dad has been doing, scribbling his name on a tag with a candy cane heart and handing it over to him. 

Tag in hand, Yoongi awkwardly shuffles to the side to reveal you to the woman behind the desk, whose name tag says Esther. Her eyes go round and her mouth forms a small ‘o’ when she sees you, surprised that Yoongi has brought a guest. You hate to admit that you feel a little pleased if it’s not common for him to bring other people here. 

Ignoring that, you give her your name and she hesitates, glancing at Yoongi. He nods his head with a tiny frown before she scribbles your name onto the tag and hands it over to you, an unreadable expression now on her face. 

“Enjoy.”

Sticking the tag on your jacket, you glance at Yoongi as he leads the way toward the common room where they’re having dinner. “Well, I don’t think she likes me.”

He hums noncommittally and you say nothing more, following his twists and turns until you’re in a large common area nearly bursting at the seams with Feliz Navidad and tinsel. There are people of varying ages inside sitting around pop-up round tables and folding chairs. Red and green plastic table clothes cover the tables, little gift-wrapped boxes act as centerpieces. There’s another tree donated in the corner by Min’s, making you poke Yoongi’s side and gesture to the tree.

Shy, Yoongi shrugs and scurries away from you, spotting his dad sitting on a sectional looking up at the glittering tree. You hesitate to follow, a little lost as you watch Yoongi call his dad’s name gently, catching his attention. They look so much alike that it’s dizzying to watch as his dad stands up, bringing Yoongi into a tight hug.

You clench your jaw, willing the sudden burning in your eyes to go away. You feel your palms sweat and your throat constricts, making you look away from them as they hold each other by the shoulders, exchanging greetings that you can’t hear from the middle of the room.

All around you are people with their moms and dads. The room is crushed with holiday cheer, held hands, kisses on cheeks and tight hugs. You start to realize this was a terrible idea, excuses and ways to leave flipping through your mind like a Rolodex when Yoongi calls your name. 

Turning to face them, you feel like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, mouth agape, frame tense. Yoongi gives you a nod as he leads his dad to you. Old Man Min walks well enough, and is a little shorter than Yoongi with peppered hair, kind eyes and a knitted scarf that looks like something perhaps your mom made. 

“You look just like your father!” His dad greets, throwing open his arms when he sees you. Your stomach drops to your ass at the declaration, but you force a smile, bending down a bit to hug him quickly. “I haven’t seen you since… I last saw you!”

That makes you laugh. “It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m just glad Yoongi finally brought you! I’ve been asking to see his girlfriend for two weeks!”

“Dad,” Yoongi admonishes giving you an apologetic look. “She’s… not.” 

Old Man Min waves him off as he heads towards the serving line where there is an array of holiday-themed catered food. “I’m starving. I’ve been waiting here all damned afternoon!”

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispers as he goes by you, upping his pace to keep up with his dad who has his sights set on food. “He does remember you very well, by the way.”

Ignoring hot coal burning in the pit of your stomach at the comparison to your father, you shuffle in line behind Yoongi. All of the workers behind the table serving recognize him immediately, brightening and greeting him with dazzling smiles and heart eyes. 

Next to him, you raise your brows and watch as he shyly interacts with them all, answering the same questions over and over and thanking them for putting on a wonderful dinner. They bask in the shower of his praise until he leans over to you and insists you get the mac and cheese. Yoongi doesn’t notice the shift, but you do, the staff immediately stiffens and goes quiet when they see you interact.

At a table tucked in the corner for just the three of you, you dig into your meal, answering all of Old Man Min’s questions he throws your way. They’re easy to answer: what do you do now, how is your mom, when did you come back. Some of the questions he repeats on accident or drifts off when asking, but you don’t mind, chewing around mac and cheese and waiting for him to get it out, or repeating your answer with the same vigor as before.

Yoongi seems nervous at first, neglecting his food to look back and forth between the two of you. You nudge him gently under the table and his dark eyes fall on you. You give him a face, trying to convey that you’re okay and he grins sheepishly, looking down at his meal and deciding it’s safe enough to start eating. 

“So how did my son finally start dating you?” his dad demands, sipping his sweet tea. “I thought he would finally ask you out in high school and then… uh college, but he never did!”

“Dad,” Yoongi starts gently, but you’re quick to cut him off, touching Yoongi’s arm gently as you smile at his dad. “Recently,” you explain. You glance at Yoongi with narrowed eyes. “Didn’t know he had a crush on me in high school, though.”

“Ha! Of course he did! Why do you think he always wanted you over at the shop? Sure were over there than uh… what’s that girl's name? Jan’s daughter.”

“Jessa,” Yoongi offers softly, not meeting anyone’s eye as he becomes interested in pushing honeyed ham around his plate. “Dad you’re embarrassing me.”

“Yeah, Jenna! She was never at the shop nearly as much as you. Nice girl, not you though.” He stabs a piece of ham and shakes his head. “Always knew you’d be the one. Your dad and I were always sure of it.” 

Yoongi tenses but you smile at Old Man Min. “Really?” 

“Mhmm. Your dad was a hell of a guy! I remember back when we were in high school…”

Yoongi’s dad launches into a tale of when he and your father were kids and you’re shocked to discover that the unsettling feeling in your stomach starts to fade. You listen, chin in your palm and elbow propped on the table as you sip on cider to the adventures of your dad in his youth. 

The wound stings a little but… it’s bearable. And it’s nice, to see Yoongi’s dad come alive and recall so many things from his own childhood. The color on Yoongi’s face and the way he keeps trying to hide his smile in the collar of his jacket says everything about how pleased he is to see his dad happy and healthy. 

Almost without thinking, you reach over under the table and take Yoongi’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He looks up at you, brows raised. You can’t help but smile, really glad that he brought you here. Somehow, it is exactly what you needed. 

Yoongi squeezes your hand back, making your heart pick up. As you start to pull away, he snatches your hand back, lacing your fingers and squeezing. You stare at him, surprised and flustered and feeling a little breathless as he settles in his chair, refusing to look at you as he holds your hand in his lap, engrossed in the tale his father is weaving. 

With a nervous exhale, you lean back in your chair, content with the warmth of his hand and whatever the hell sparks with his touch.

-

Seokjin is very drunk and very happy to see you when he throws open the front door to his incredibly nice home in the new, gated community just beyond your old high school. The two-story home is full of warmth, people from your high school and college, and a lot of booze. 

Immediately you’re uneasy, smiling awkwardly at the shocked faces of your old peers. Yoongi is heedless, though, keeping a hand on yours as he leads you through the party. You’re distracted by the firmness of his hold on you, the way it makes your head spin, the way that you don’t know what holding his hand means, but it’s nice. 

And then you’re in the kitchen, pressed close to his side as you field questions from old friends that aren’t as much friends as they are nosy people from your past. No one asks about your handholding, but the way they glance down to where Yoongi has your fingers laced with his is enough to know it’s all anyone is going to talk about in whispered circles and for the next two weeks. 

If Yoongi is bothered by this, he doesn’t show it. You however, are very in your head. The loose, happy feeling you had at dinner with his dad is replaced with stiff movements, quiet murmurs of hellos and asking how are you to people you don’t really care about, and cringing when a group of people pass by caroling room to room.

Yoongi senses the way you freeze up, the way you press yourself into the pantry as though you could melt into the wood and remain unseen. He tugs you toward a glass sliding door where there is a patio filled with smokers, all of them shivering and breathing smoke and steamed breath into the string lighting. 

Going past them, Yoongi tugs you down into the back of the yard and to a gate. People whistle behind you and Yoongi throws a middle finger over his head, uncaring. He throws the latch and squeezes through the gate, so you follow. 

Behind Seokjin’s house is a lake with a lit fountain, frozen and off for the winter season. He trudges toward it and sits down on damp grass, patting the spot next to him. Tentatively, you sit down and look over at him. 

“Sorry.” His breath fogs in the cold. “I didn’t think about how shitty that might feel for you before inviting you.”

“It’s okay. I just… don’t really know how to answer their questions.”

“What do you mean?”

You pull at frozen grass to distract yourself from having to look at him. “I mean, I just broke up with my fiance a few weeks ago because I caught them cheating and now I show up to a party where everyone thinks I’m a stuck up holding your hand.”

“Not everyone thinks that.” You give him a look and he amends, “Okay, a lot of people do but not everyone.” 

“Great.”

“If they saw you the way I do, they definitely wouldn’t think that.” You shoot him a questioning look as your heart beats a little bit faster. Your nerves start to tingle as you watch him figure out how to phrase what comes next. “You have no idea how nice it was to have you with me tonight. I’ve been doing that alone for years and I love spending time with my dad, but having someone else there to take the pressure off and to see him happy was… fuck it was really nice.”

The icy core around your heart that began to scrape itself together once you entered the party melts just a little bit. You chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Yoongi continues. “I know you don’t like the holidays because it reminds you of being home and everything you want to get away from, and of the bad things that happened to you. I didn’t like them for… fuck, for years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They sucked without my mom, but it wasn’t so bad because we’d come to spend time with you guys or go over to the Kims. My dad made it work, and even though it felt like a fucking gut punch those first few years after my mom died, I sort of adjusted.”

“And then?”

He sighs heavily, looking up at the moon. “And then dad’s old age happened. The man you got tonight was… man, it was good. He was great tonight, happy and present and vibrant. It’s not always like that though - it’s usually not. There are a lot of times when he might forget my mom is gone or might forget that he sold the shop to me and thinks he has to go to work and… it was really hard at first. Trying to make that adjustment.”

“You’re so patient, though.”

“I wasn’t always. Around the holidays I was trying to run the shop and visit him so he wouldn’t feel alone and deal with my own grief about how fucking alone everything felt. There wasn’t anyone to relate to and I was just…” Yoongi shrugs and runs a hand over his brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t very nice for a bit. It was really frustrating to learn new ways to talk to him and I just… hated everyone.”

Fuck you know how it feels. You look at Yoongi as he stares out at the frozen lake. You would never guess that Yoongi, who makes so many different things in his spare time for the holidays could be mean. Yoongi, who eats something different every time you go to Jin’s diner. Yoongi, who chased a stray cat around your backyard until he could bring it in and warm it up inside before taking it over to the shelter. Yoongi who has been unwaveringly kind, and invited you to Christmas Eve dinner so you wouldn’t be alone. 

When you were teens, you could have bought that story. He had always been a little standoffish and hard around the edges. You were always in his inner circle, a rare witness to the way that he could melt for the people that he cared about. But the Yoongi of now does not seem like someone who hates the world like Yoongi of then had the potential to - and did.

It doesn’t make sense, this Yoongi that he talks about in the past and the Yoongi that you see in front of you. The Yoongi in front of you is gentle, kind, and soft with those around him. He never raises his voice, he is gentle with customers, and he often pulls more weight than he should at his own store to take the pressure off his employees.

“What changed, then?” you ask, desperately seeking an answer. In him, you see what you want to be. The calmness, the confidence in who he is and what he’s doing. He’s not drowning in his grief, or trying to reconcile a cacophony of feelings. At least, it doesn’t seem like it. 

“Therapy, for starters,” he laughs and gives you a look as he lays back in the grass. You join him, feeling the cold sink into your coat, but you don’t care. You like laying here with him under a blanket of frozen stars with the muted sounds of the party just beyond the wooden gate.

He continues, “But also a lot of introspection and a lot of self-hate. This version you have of me now? It’s gone through a lot of pain and suffering and reconciling with myself. It’s not an easy process, but it is worth it. And it started with me not blaming Christmas for things  that were just… beyond my control.”

“Fuck, so I have to apologize to Santa? I’m not even religious.”

Yoongi’s breath turns to fog as he laughs. You watch the way his eyes crinkle, shining with mirth under the gray light of the moon. He glows under the night sky – cheeks frozen-blush, lips chapped a little from the winter wind, nose cherry read. Droplets of dew cling to his long hair, a crown of diamonds on a prince spun from moonbeams.

At least, that’s what it feels like as you watch his laughter settle. Yoongi smiles up at the sky and that tight feeling constricts in your chest again. This version of him is so much softer than the teenager you remember. Warm at the edges, melted with a lifetime of experiences that have thawed that hard exterior.

Something like envy slithers through you. Envy that Yoongi has long healed from his hurts. That he seems to have settled here he is now, in happiness and knowing his path. He doesn’t have everything but he has enough, and as he turns to look at you, dark eyes sparkling, you can’t help but avert your gaze.

You don’t want him to see the inside of you.

“It’s more about Christmas as a concept,” Yoongi sighs, looking back up at the sky. Marshmallow clouds drift across a midnight canvas. You can only make out the brightest of stars here, the light pollution dimming the effect. “I’m not religious either, but the effect that the holidays can have on people is touching. Heartwarming. People love others a little extra.”

“Yeah, well they should do that year-round.”

“Small steps, small steps. Maybe it’s an open conversation at a dinner, or maybe it’s someone seeing family they haven't seen in a while. There are so many opportunities for love and warmth and chances to open your heart.”

“You sound like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he chuckles. “I know it sounds idealistic and a little bit naïve. But I’ve experienced too much sadness to keep thinking that’s all there is, and I’ve seen people’s lives change around the holidays. It’s special.”

You hum. “Why wait until the end of the year for all of that so-called happiness, then?”

“Life is hard - like really fucking hard. Sometimes when the end of the year is staring you right in the face, or when you're realizing it may be your last Christmas with an aging loved one is the push people need to brave that first step to being happy.”

“You’re celebrating procrastination.”

Yoongi sighs. He rolls over on his side and props his head up with his hand. You feel a flush of warmth curl through you under the weight of his full attention. Suddenly the cold hard ground you’ve opted to lay on doesn’t feel so bad.

“I’m celebrating people being moved to do something.” His tone is gentle. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He seems thoughtful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m celebrating that sometimes the holidays are the worst time for people. But something small will happen to make them feel even a moment of happiness. Just one small second of relief from the fucking madness.”

You think about everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. A tightness constricts your throat and you try to swallow past it. It takes you a few moments, but you imagine what it would be like to have just a fucking second to catch your breath. To have a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I just…” Yoongi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I want people to be happy. And it feels like maybe this time of year has more potential than most. So that’s what I celebrate. Not the gift and the capitalism and the hypocrisy of it all. But the little seconds in between.”

A long, slow breath of air leaves you. You watch it steam and curl toward the sky before fading. “Well, Yoongi. I wish I was nearly as optimistic.”

“Maybe you can be.” You glance at him and see him smiling. “Just give me a chance to persuade you, yeah? My work seems to be paying off so far.”

“It is. I have an appointment to talk to a therapist in three weeks. It’s just an introductory thing, but…”

“That’s great, honestly. I don’t want to say I’m proud of you because that’s pretentious and you’re not doing this for me, but I really hope it helps.” Silence settles between you. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you are cold, despite the warmth that blooms when he studies your face. “Wanna go inside and drink a fuck ton of wine and then Irish exit?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh, letting him help you to your feet. 

Back inside of the party, you do just that. Yoongi plies you with sweet, red wine until there’s a cotton-soft buzz in your body. You’re a little bit nicer to people who still whisper when you walk by, and you even let Seokjin drag you into a single karaoke performance of Baby It’s Cold Outside. 

It’s already embarrassing to show how horrible you are at singing, but to make matters worse, you cannot stop glancing over at Yoongi who leans against the wall of the living room, a plastic wine up in his hand, dark eyes focused only on you. 

Heat pools in your lower stomach at his gaze, watching it darken by the minute. You do not miss when Jessa - who Old Man Min has dubbed Jenna - approaches Yoongi tentatively. And yet he is dismissive, the overly-warm and kind exterior replaced with something sharper. Hungrier. 

And his focus is entirely on you.

When you finish the song and wander over to him, breathless, he keeps his eyes pinned on you. Fathomless pools that draw you in until you feel like you’re falling falling falling, weightless and breathless. No one has ever looked at you like that. Not even your fiance. 

“What?” you ask, voice shaking as you lean against the wall, face tilted up toward him. You feel warm and wine-slow all over, limbs heavy and comfortable. Your lashes flutter when you slow blink at him. His lips are stained red from wine. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“What way?”

Embolden by sweet wine, your talk on the lawn and your innocent hand holding, you huff. “In a way that makes me want to be stupid and kiss you.”

“That would make you stupid?”

You drop your gaze and press the rim of your plastic cup to your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I kind of want to do it, but I don’t… know?”

His voice is lower and deeper, soft against your sense as he leans in a little. “So you want to kiss me?” You nod. “But you don’t know if you want to kiss me?”

“I don’t want you to think it’s… I haven’t been single for long. I don’t want you to think that of me. It isn’t because of that. I’ve wanted to for like years and - yeah.”

“I already told you. I think a lot of things of you. That isn’t one.” His gaze flickers around the party. You don’t realize how close he is until he turns back to you, warm breath fanning against your head. “How about we do our exit now and talk about that kiss where there’s not so many eyes, hmm?”

Mutely, you nod at him. Now you definitely want to kiss Yoongi. He’s gone from the soft, gummy-grin man full of holiday cheer to a darker, calm version of himself that is new. Confident. And quite frankly toe-curling. 

Yoongi wraps his fingers around yours and leads you to the exit, saying nothing to anyone that you pass by. Then you’re out in the cold and he’s unlocking the truck, popping open your door and pulling you toward it.

“Are you okay to drive?”

“Very,” he promises, voice raspy. “I only live across the stoplight, remember?” 

“Ohhh.” You get into the passenger seat, leaning your head on it and looking at Yoongi, who is momentarily propped against your door. “You’re taking me home?”

He leans forward, eyes dropping to your mouth as he mutters, “Uh-huh.”

And then he’s kissing you and the entire world fades into the background.

Yoongi’s lips are just as soft as you imagined. You sink into the kiss, leaning forward into the heavenly press of his mouth. Everything shifts, the dizziness of the wine mulling into dizziness of Yoongi - the way he smells like cedar and rose, the way he presses your mouth open with his, the way he tastes like sweet notes of wine. 

The soft brush of his tongue against yours makes your thighs squeeze together. He’s slow as he kisses you, taking his time to suck your tongue into his mouth, rolling his over yours languidly and fuck you’re going to die from just a kiss. 

Yoongi pulls back and you whine, hands going to the collar of his jacket and pulling him back, missing the warmth of his mouth, the gentle pull of your lip between his teeth. “More,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his.

His chuckle buzzes through your mouth, a gentle tingle as you pull at his bottom lip with your teeth playfully. He groans as he kisses you, a little sloppier, with a little more tangled tongues and spit. The wet smack of his mouth against yours is interrupted when someone’s dog starts barking in one of the yards, startling you. 

“Fuck,” he laughs, voice husky. “In your seat, come on. Let’s go.”

“Meh.”

He grins and pushes your leg back into the cab of the truck. “Greedy.”

Yoongi shuts the door and rounds the hood. Your eyes are glued to him as he gets in, your heart pounding in your chest as he starts the car. It occurs to you that you just kissed Yoongi. Min Yoongi, the one person you’ve been spending time with since you got back. The one person who you thought about late at night when your fiance was asleep and you were chasing thoughts of your past. 

The one person who seemed to be willing to look a little deeper. To see that the poison inside of you wasn’t because you didn’t like anyone, or because you thought that you were better. It was because you were afraid and sad and didn’t know how to deal with anything. 

Wordlessly, he reaches over the center console, placing his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. You shut your legs, stomach clenching at the feeling of his fingers brushing gently over your jeans. When you look at him, there’s a sideways smirk on his face and you know he knows that your stomach is flipping over the simple touch. 

It feels like the drive lasts a thousand years. You’re squirming in the seat as Yoongi’s thumb brushes back and forth, giving you a squeeze now and again accompanied by a grin. You can’t help but smile back, heart in your fucking throat as you see all of the familiar houses pass you by. 

The Min home is exactly like you remember it but with less cars. Yoongi parks in the drive, popping open the garage with the press of a button to reveal a workshop of tools, shelves for storage and a flickering overhead light that has been faulty since you were in middle school. 

Outside, Yoongi reaches for your hand, pulling you close as you pass under the garage and toward the door that opens up into a white-tiled kitchen. The hum of the closing door follows you in as he flicks on a light, revealing a large kitchen with oak cabinets and a counter full of mail, a catch all, and various containers of sugar, and coffee and other items. 

Yoongi chucks his keys and shuffles out of his jacket, tossing it on the counter and turning to you. He gives you a cunning smile and beckons you. There’s no denying his summons, your feet pulling you toward him automatically as he catches you by the waist, pulling you into his chest as he brushes his mouth against yours again. 

Somehow, it feels normal to be doing this. To press your palms against his chest as he lounges lazily against his kitchen counter, one hand on your waist and one hand on the side of your neck as he tilts your mouth to his, kissing you hungrily. Like he’s waited an entire lifetime to do this. 

The thought makes you pull away suddenly. You look up at him, his face flush and lips kiss-bitten and spit-slicked. His eyes flutter open, looking down at you half-lidded and dazed. “Hmm?”

“Did you really have a crush on me?” 

He snorts and rolls his eyes, tilting his head backward until it hits a cabinet. The hand on your neck is firm, a steady weight that sends your thoughts wild when his thumb brushes back and forth across the skin of your over-warmed throat. 

“Of course I did. You paint so much of my life, you have no idea.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Cause I was terrified. I wasn’t very honest with myself back then, there was no way I could be honest with you. Then after college you got that nice ass job and I realized I was coming back home and I couldn’t go with you.”

“Even in college?”

“Yeah,” he whispers to the ceiling. “Even in college. I had this big idea to maybe tell you when we graduated. I was going to work at that new startup I told you about - it was only thirty minutes away from you. And then that didn’t happen and…” He shrugs. “I realized we weren’t on the same path. It seemed pointless.”

You stare at him for a few moments, thoughts flicking through your mind at a blinding pace. Yoongi had liked you in high school. In college. Had put off telling you because he didn’t think you’d be interested enough to stay, or to figure it out or to-

“I’d have dated you anyway,” you murmur. Carefully, you move a strand of blonde hair from his eyes when he looks down at you in surprise. “Yeah,” you laugh when you see his face. “Yoongi, I was totally head over heels for you in high school and in college. And then you dated Jessa and I just figured it would be embarrassing to tell you later so I just didn’t say anything.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Those first few months when you never texted me that you had settled in at your new job I figured you had new friends or just didn’t have time for me. I didn’t even…” You sigh. “I didn’t realize you didn’t move there. I was too nervous to look at your social media.”

“I barely update it anyways.”

“I know. It’s all your cat.” That piques your interest and you pull away from him, looking around. “Where is your kitty? I want to see.”

“I love that you are excited about my cat, but I would like to request that we look for him later. I have other things I wanna do.”

“Oh?”

Yoongi’s gaze is dark when you look back at him. Your fingers tighten in his shirt, going still under the razor-sharp look he gives you. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I want to show you how fucking bad I wanted you - do want you. And I don’t want you to think I’m just saying all this, or that I’m using a moment of weakness. Since you walked into the kitchen that night, I have not been able to stop thinking about every second of my life that I liked you. That I wanted to kiss you. That I wanted to fuck you until all you could think about was the way I felt.”

“Yoongi.”

“Hmm?”

“I would like that very much.”

Yoongi’s smile is dazzling, completely at ends with how he just said he wants to fuck you but you don’t care.

Especially when he gives you a chaste kiss to the mouth. Once. Twice. And leads you through the home that you already know. His bedroom is on the opposite side of where his parents slept, and when he opens the door to reveal a room lit by a single salt lamp, you almost expect it to be covered in drawings of buildings and filled with canvas prints of famous buildings around the world and sheets designed like graph paper.

Instead, you’re surprised to see an elevated room with newly painted, limewash walls, a heavy desk tucked into the corner with leather portfolios and neatly stacked papers, dark linen sheets folded neatly on the bed with several pillows - including decorative - against a beautiful headboard with a keen design you know is his.

The room looks lived in and elegant, and it smells like the sage and jasmine reed diffuser in the corner. 

“You’re fucking hot,” you blurt, startling yourself and Yoongi. “Like your room is - adult. And you made that desk and headboard right? Fucking-” You look up at him and shake your head. “It’s really hot that you do all of these things.”

“Wow. Just the room does it for you, huh?”

You shove him playfully and he falls back on his bed, sitting with a soft bounce. He opens his legs and leans back on his palms, eyes drifting up and down your frame. He smirks, cool confidence making your hands shake as you take a step forward, suddenly feeling far more nervous than you ever have around him.

“Come here,” he purrs, lifting a hand and patting his thigh.

In a trance, you compy. Carefully you crawl into his lap, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist as you settle your ass between his legs. His hands wrap behind you, pressed into the small of your back as he leans forward, catching your mouth with his. He pulls your coat from your shoulders, dropping it to the floor as you settle your hand around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair.

Kissing Yoongi makes the world stop. Here, in his bedroom, in his lap, nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter that you’re living in your mom’s house again. It doesn’t matter that you have to figure out what to do about a new place to live. It doesn’t matter that a teeny-tiny part of you was relieved to find your fiance cheating. It doesn’t matter that you were more mad about being kicked out of the apartment than anything else.

All that matters is that something slides into place when Yoongi leans back, letting you fall onto his chest. You giggle into his mouth, letting the slide of your tongues and lips lull you into a sense of longing that you’ve harbored for years without realizing it. 

You’re drowning in Yoongi. Your lungs are full of him, sending you gasping into his mouth when he rolls your hips against his, the friction sparking a fire in you. You’re completely lost in him, drifting further and further his mouth places hot, wet kisses on your jaw and neck.

It never occurred to you that you could want someone - Yoongi - this badly. You tremble on top of him as his fingers pull your shirt from the waistband of your jeans, fingers seeking the warmth of your skin. 

Breathing becomes difficult, your lips ghosting across the tender skin of his neck, nipping lightly as his calloused fingers brush across your hips, digging in as he rocks you against him. You can’t help but shiver at the feeling of arousal in your stomach, fingers quaking as he lets out a soft moan next to your ear. 

Gently, Yoongi rolls the two of you over, slotting himself between your legs and pressing his clothed hard-on where you want him most. You look up at him as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, skin flushed and full of warmth and want. He is beautiful.

Something in you blooms, hungry and feral. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, squeezing his palms under yours. He grins, getting the hint as he gives your tits a gentle squeeze, working a light moan from you. 

“You always had great tits,” Yoongi admits, thumbs circling the gentle hint of nipples through your shirt and bralette. You squirm under his touch and his grin grows wider. “Yeah? Sensitive, hmm?”

“Yes.”

With a pleased hum, Yoongi removes your shirt. It’s cold in his room, but he’s quick to bend down, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, chasing away the goosebumps as he looks up at you, mouth hovering over a peaked nipple. 

Slowly, Yoongi flicks his tongue over your nipple. The sensation makes you kick against the mattress, the stimulation something but not nearly enough. You want more, your hands shooting to his forearms and digging your nails in. 

Yoongi huffs, warm air gusting over your skin as he gives you what you want, lowering his mouth and wrapping it around your nipple, soaking the fabric of your bralette. Your eyelids flutter shut, one of his hands holding himself up and the other ghosting along your ribs back and forth, making you shiver repeatedly. 

Pulling away, Yoongi plucks your nipple playfully with his teeth, making you squeal from a pinch of pain but a flood of pleasure. You feel lightheaded, teetering on the border between present and somewhere far away and he’s barely even touched you. 

“You okay?” Yoongi asks. You realize his lips are ghosting against your chin. “You look a little dazed. We can stop.”

“No.” You shake your head, trying to dispel the fog and blinking down at him. “No it’s - it feels good. It’s hard to think when you touch me I just-” The words are stuck in your mouth and you squeeze your eyes shut.

He kisses your nose gently. “You just what?”

“I’m just really into it and it makes me feel all floaty and out of it but present. I don’t know. It’s overwhelming but good.”

“Do you want to keep going?” You nod. “Okay. You can stop at any time, okay? You ever used safe words?”

“No.”

He kisses you sweetly on the forehead, mouth drifting south until he’s nosing you lightly. His next words come out mumbled against your mouth, the hum sending a soft buzz through your lips. “Tell me a word we can use if you need to stop. No matter what we’re doing, the moment you feel uncomfortable, you use the word.”

“Christmas?”

He snickers and presses his forehead against you. “Fine, Christmas is fine.” He pecks your lips. “Okay.” He pulls your hand from your face, giving you a gentle, innocent kiss to the lips. It helps settle you a little. “Tell me what you like.”

“Umm.” Yoongi places butterfly kisses along your jaw, teeth nipping you lightly. You curse and feel your eyes roll back in your head as he sucks at your skin greedily, one of his hands coming up to brush a thumb back and forth over a nipple. “I don’t know.”

“No?” He pinches your right nipple and you moan loudly, earning a smile against your kiss-slicked neck. “You must like something. Do you like it slow? Rough? Messy? Do you like being choked? Hands above your head? Or in control?”

You shake your head. “Want me in control?” You nod. “Got it.” His hand drifts up to your neck and gives the sides a gentle squeeze. A thrill shoots through you and you lean up into him, nodding. “Yeah? Like having my hand around your throat?”

“Yes. I like…” Your words trail off for a moment as you think through the haze of Yoongi’s rasping voice and mouth. “Umm hard but sort of slow?” 

“Mhmm.”

“And messy. Messy is good.” 

Yoongi gives a satisfied hum. His hand leaves your nipple, brushing down your heated skin toward the apex of your thighs. He presses his fingers firmly over your clothed pussy, not nearly enough friction with underwear and jeans in the way. “And what about being eaten out? Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

You feel his smile against your throat. “Thank fuck. I’ve been dying to taste this fucking pussy.”

Suddenly you’re glad you have a safe word. Yoongi’s words send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core, a moan leaving your lips as he worships your skin with his mouth. It feels like you could fall headfirst into him and never stop falling. The tension in your stomach is so tight you nearly snap when he unbuttons your jeans, everything he does is so overwhelming that there is almost an urge to cry. 

It’s hard to piece together why you feel like this. Why there is an inferno screaming inside of you, begging to be let out. Why the press of Yoongi’s fingers over your damp panties nearly sends you into a blackout, why when he circles your clit through the fabric you let out a strangled noise.

But you think… maybe you know what it is. 

Instead of thinking too hard about it, you focus on the way you’re short of breath. The way that your entire body is vibrating with energy. You look down to where Yoongi is on his knees between your legs, dark eyes looking up at you intently. His hands skate up and down the soft flesh of your inner thighs, squeezing periodically. 

Way back when, you were always nervous letting people between your legs, letting them see the most intimate parts of you up close. It was anxiety-filled and you were constantly nervous about being wrong - or just. Anything. 

But when Yoongi drops his gaze down to where your underwear sticks to your folds and lets out an appreciative curse, there’s no anxiety at all. Just a desire for Yoongi to make you his. For you to dig your fingers into him and make him yours.

Flashing you a wicked grin, he leans forward and gives a slow, wet lick over your panties. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, back arching and thighs twitching shut a little. The stimulation is more, but not enough. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, no? Want my mouth on this perfect pussy?”

“Please.”

He tucks his fingers under your underwear and pulls them down slowly, pressing a kiss to your knee absently. “You’re so much more pliant than I expected. Just want to be taken care of?”

Something inside you squeezes sharply and you shut your eyes, nodding. Realizing he can’t see you nodding, you whisper, “Yes.”

Firmly but slowly, Yoongi presses his palms into your thighs, spreading you wide. The stretch pulls your muscles but it’s a pleasant burn that is immediately forgotten when you feel his hot breath skate over your aching hole. 

You have never wanted someone’s goddamn mouth this bad. Yoongi laughs and you realize that you’re squirming, wiggling your hips a little toward his mouth. You immediately stop, hands covering your face as you groan, realizing that you are pliant for him. 

Embarrassment morphs into surprise and white hot pleasure when Yoongi licks you slowly from dripping hole to clit. Your breath gets stuck in your chest at the sensation, his tongue languidly rolling around your clit before he slow-drags it back down, dipping into your hole teasingly. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp as he repeats the motion, the flat of his tongue dragging upward. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

He hums contentedly, flicking his tongue back and forth over your clit playfully. Your thighs tighten and shake, and you’re only able to let out the breath you’ve been holding when he pulls away and gives a soft chuckle.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, shuffling and sliding his hands under your ass. His fingers grip you firmly and he pulls you to his mouth, using the grip on your ass to anchor you to him. “Can you look at me, baby?” 

The new endearment makes your fingers clench in the sheets. It’s dizzying when you shift to your elbows, barely able to prop yourself up. The room tilts as he grins between your legs, lips glossed with your arousal. 

“Want you to watch,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. It leaves a sticky mouth print. “Such a sweet little cunt.”

Yoongi’s words have no time to land. He leans forward and you watch with acute fascination as he sucks your clit gently between his lips. Your nerves turn to molten lava and though he wants you to watch, your head falls back and you feel your eyes roll, a whimper escaping your mouth as he suckles greedily. 

Everything Yoongi does has always been art. He eats you out no different, alternately between eagerly tonguing every inch of you and sucking gently on your clit. You somehow manage to lift your heavy head, swimming with no thoughts but Yoongi Yoongi Yoongi to watch as he closes his eyes, humming delightedly as his greedy tongue slips into your clenching hole.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak. Your legs threaten to close as the knot in your stomach tightens. You know you’re going to come soon, knees squeezing his shoulders as he hums and sucks and licks, not letting a drop go to waste. “I’m gonnnaaa-” 

You can’t finish the sentence. He knows you’re going to come, his tongue firmer, his mouth hungrier. His mouth is loud and wet against you, which might gross you out if you weren’t babbling, twisting your hips under him as the pressure in your stomach shot upward. You’re panting and nearly delirious when one hand slides from your ass to your hole, his thumb applying just enough pressure to relieve a bit of the ache. 

“Fuck,” you squeak.

You come hard, eyes squeezed shut, Yoongi sucking your clit harshly and humming, the hum of his mouth sending you over and his thumb dipping into your hole to apply pressure. Under the force of your orgasm, you collapse to the bed, full-body twitching as his gluttonous mouth sucks at you, not letting up.

A numb-like tingle settles into your veins. You feel drunk, and not from the wine. Something headier that makes your thoughts white noise and your limbs heavy-soft. Yoongi gives your clit a kiss before squeezing your ass playfully, kissing his way up your stomach to your chest. 

“How are you doing?” he asks gently. 

“I think I just saw god,” you croak, voice hoarse from overuse. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He hums and licks into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, sticky-sweet and heady. He moans, dropping his hips to press against your slick thighs and still-dripping cunt. “Let me,” you mumble against his mouth, hand dropping between you and squeezing him over his jeans. Fuck. Your eyes flutter open, your hand feeling the full size of Yoongi’s cock. “Oh my god, do you have a big dick?”

Yoongi bursts into laughter, groaning and burying his head in your neck. He busies his mouth with placing sloppy kisses, more tongue than anything, against your pulse point. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I mean, yeah,” you mimic in a high-pitched voice. He laughs and you squirm. Even his laugh is hot. “Well show me. I wanna suck you off.”

“Can I be honest?”

“You just made me come from tongue alone, so yeah.”

“If your mouth comes near my dick I might come. I was close to busting in my fucking jeans like a teenager just now. I’d love for you to suck me off another time, but I am living my dream right now and I might bust a nut immediately.” 

You look at him owlishly. “Living your dream, huh?”

“Shut up,” he growls playfully. “Roll over on your stomach for me and put that perfect ass into the air, hmm?” 

With sluggish limbs and your head spinning, you do what he asks. He snaps the back of your bralette and you let it fall down your arms before tossing it aside. Leaning on your elbows, you put your ass in the air, wiggling it for effect. He huffs out a laugh behind you and you turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off.

Underneath his clothes, Yoongi is flushed pink and smooth. You watch, dazed and appreciative as he undoes his jeans swiftly. There is something alluring about watching the way his hands work his pants off. His strong thighs flex when he straightens, tucking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his briefs to slide them down and -

“Holy fuck,” you blurt. Yoongi looks up at you, blonde hair sticking to his forehead and cock bobbing heavily against his stomach. He does have a big dick - thick and long with a flushed tip leaking precum that makes your mouth water. “You’re joking.”

For a moment, the confident Yoongi from a second ago wavers, face red as he shyly gets on the bed. “If we have to stop we can-”

“Please fuck me,” you beg. You don’t even hesitate, shuffling your knees so that your ass is higher. “I don’t care if it hurts. Please.” 

His hands are on your ass, making your heart hammer in your chest. You think it might give out as Yoongi shuffles behind you, his thighs brushing against the back of yours. You feel the sticky crown of his cock against an asscheek, making you press backward to apply pressure. A sharp smack lands on your ass, earning both a cry and a moan from you. 

“Don’t fucking start,” Yoongi growls. Both of his hands grip your ass as he slides his shaft between your sticky folds. Your forehead rests on sweaty sheets as you pant, feeling how hard and long he is. “Gonna fuck you open with my fingers a little.”

“Yoongi.” 

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, baby. So let me.”

Yoongi’s hands drift from the apples of your ass to your fluttering hole. There’s a pit in your stomach, butterflies going wild as his fingers brush around your ring of muscles, hole twitching. His cock is pressed against your ass as he slides a finger in, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he presses against your front wall, the smooth glide of his fingers addicting. 

“More,” you whisper. “Please.”

He hums in agreement, sliding in another finger. It’s a stretch, but it’s good. Pleasure whites out everything else. There’s just the tight glide of his fingers, pressing against that soft spot in you. Everything he does, your stomach lurches, the pleasure turning you boneless as you continue to melt into the mattress, letting Yoongi slow-fuck you with his fingers until he decides you can take him. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers, a line of arousal sticking to your ass as he uses both hands to spread you open. He moans, shuffling so that his cockhead catches your entrance, holding the blunt tip there for a second, letting your hole clench and unclench at the pressure. 

“Holy fuck, please.”

“What was that?”

“Min Yoongi, plea-”

Your words turn into an embarrassing sound as he sinks deep into your pussy, so wet that he slides almost to the hilt. The wind gets knocked out of you and for a second, you lay there in white light, unable to think about anything but the painful stretch of his cock reaching deep deep. 

There’s nothing else but the feel of him, hips pressed to your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back, letting your walls flutter around him as you adjust to the girth. And you do have to adjust, remembering to breathe through it. When the slight sting fades, you swivel your hips, making both of you sigh. 

Taking the hint, Yoongi pulls out, using his hands on your ass to control both of your movements before he sinks back in, finding a smooth, steady rhythm that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. You’re gone in seconds, thoughts replaced by the livewire feeling in your stomach and the way Yoongi fucks you hard and deep, though his movements are slow. 

Yoongi makes sounds behind you that make you fall apart that much faster. His hands are reverent and careful as he pulls you onto his cock, fucking you like you asked. Slow. With purpose. Every thrust is weighted, Yoongi putting his entire frame into each stroke as he fucks you into the mattress, punctuated by his stilted breaths. 

“Fuck,” he swears. “You have no fucking idea the way I dreamed about this. Fucking-” he breaks off with a growl, fingers gripping you with bone-shattering strength. “Wanted to do everything with you. For years.” 

Something inside of you snaps and you let out a muffled cry, realizing that you're near tears. Because yeah. You know what he means. You knew it when you saw him standing in the kitchen making a home with your mom. You knew it when you saw him carving rocking chairs and brushing sawdust out of your hair. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp as he adjusts the angle, hitting your spot on the upstroke. It nearly sends you into space. “But me too.”

He smacks your ass, the sting almost sending you headfirst into your orgasm. “Yeah? Thought of me even when you weren’t here, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Thought of me even when you were lying awake at night in a city without me?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your ass again and you feel your orgasm, so tight and intense that you think you might die if the pressure doesn’t pop. “Come on,” he grunts, a hand sliding around your waist and reading down to press tight circles on your clit. Your vision goes white. “Come for me, then. Fucking show me.”

It’s all you need. You come around Yoongi, squeezing him so tight and screaming viciously into his sheets. He grabs you tight and curses loudly behind you, immediately coming deep in your cunt, shivering against you as he pants through it. You’re barely aware that his weight is on top of you, your entire being somewhere else far away.

For a while, there is just gasping breaths and tangled limbs. You’re unsure how to string together words, your mind and bones melted. Your body twitching with post-orgasm tremors. 

Strings of thoughts begin to pull together. The twine to make coherent ideas. Memories. Things. You feel the weight of Yoongi, who is only half on top of you as he tries to catch his breath. Tries to piece himself together, both of you collapsed and tangled in something beyond just bodies. 

Whatever it is that just happened is more than just fucking and you know it. Know that Yoongi knows it. You’ve been dancing around an inevitable thought for weeks, while watching him hunched over his workstation, painting stain on a cabinet with his sweater sleeves pulled over his hand. Watching him shuffle boxes of dreidels that he hand-carved for the synagogue down the street. 

The dread of coming home during the holidays was always about the association to your family. To your dad being gone. To the guilt gnawing at you for leaving your mom. But now, as he pulls the rest of himself off of you and rolls onto his back, hands grabbing you and pulling you to his sweaty side, you think that maybe being afraid of home was a little bit about him too. About the memory of him. About the little inkling of a crush that you never got over. 

“Your mom is gonna give us so much shit in the morning,” he mumbles, words a little slurred. You curl into his side, tucking your face in his neck. He smells a little like cedar, a little like sex and sweat. “She might never let me in the house again.”

“Untrue. She loves you.”

“Hmm. It’s a start.”  He sighs, words drifting off. “And no safe word needed. I could barely choke you out if I wanted. I thought I was gonna come as soon as I put it in. Holy fuck.”

“Fuck Christmas,” you laugh. “I want you to do that again. However you want to.” He snorts. “Also, I want to suck your dick in the morning. I didn’t get you a gift.” 

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Sleep, yeah?”

You hum. “Yeah.” 

[twohundred40-blog]

So where am I at?

I moved to a new city. It’s amazing here and I LOVE IT. My estate is insane … it’s gated and safe, it looks like something out of a movie the layout and architecture is SO unique. I have a balcony that overlooks the trees. It’s so calm and quiet here. I’m in love. The city is much nicer than Coventry, so many nice shops, cafes, history, farms ahhh. I do miss aspects of Coventry though, I loved the culture and being able to pop in and see my sisters or pop to the pub on a random evening. I need to learn to drive because I’m quite isolated here, nothing is about. I have a few friends here and they’re amazing but I do wish I had more. My anxiety is still bad in that sense… but better than it used to be.

I have the most amazing group of friends from uni. A proper solid friend group, we don’t meet up much but when we do it’s when I’m at my absolute happiest. The good thing about being far away is we get to have whole weekends together, we visit each other or go somewhere on an adventure. All we do is laugh. And there’s limited drama but when this is drama… I live for it.

I finally got a “proper” job. I’m still pretty anxious because I’m new at it and I’m much less confident than the other new girl. But everybody is so lovely so I’m hoping I slowly fit in more and be more confident. I spent my last shift doing maths and I can’t even explain how much I enjoyed it. Yeh nerdy, but it was like all the aspects of maths I love and so rewarding when I had that light bulb moment. I have no idea what the future is for my career but at the moment I’m happy there, getting qualifications and working for a genuine company. It feels good. I don’t think I’ll be there forever but who knows what the future holds.

My sister is having a BABY. I cannot begin to explain how happy it makes my heart. It’s all very surreal, our family is finally growing. I hate that I’m so far away and I’ll miss a lot of it but I hope I can bond with the baby and when they’re a bit older they can come stay here and I’m going to be the cool aunt. I’m going to absolutely spoil it, and make sure it has an amazing music taste.

Do I want kids? No idea. I go between desperate to have a baby to I’m not ready to I don’t want kids. I’m not entirely sure to be honest but I think it’ll come natural if it’s meant to be. I can’t lie friends and family having babies is making me broody as hell.

Mentally I’m doing pretty well, I’m far from perfect, I still laze around a lot and have my depressive episodes, and nap a lot. In general though I’m much better than I used to be, fairly normal sleep schedule, better hygiene and self care. I’m eating better but definitely in need of improvement and it’s a struggle sometimes. I’m going to take it slow and continue my journey of growth. I came a long way but then just kind of stopped… I guess I’m scared if I disappoint myself I’ll tip over the edge again. I want to be the kind of person who gets up and has breakfast, exercises, reads, draws, tries new things, drinks lots of water, showers every day. Sounds quite simple but for me … it’s a struggle. I have to remind myself of how far I’ve came though and know I’m strong enough to keep going. I’ve also been cigarette free for 13 days. I won’t lie it’s a huge struggle, my cravings are through the roof. I’m determined to jeep it up though no matter how hard it is.

I finally feel like I fit in with my partners family. I mean they’ve always been amazing and I’ve always loved them but at the start I always felt a bit like I didn’t fit in. Well now they are absolutely family to me. I’m so comfortable with them and I look forward to seeing them SO much. I’m going to be a bridesmaid at my partners mums wedding and I cannot WAIT!

As for my relationship. Wow. I didn’t realise I could be in such a healthy relationship, in fact I didn’t even think they existed… I kind of thought people just settled. There’s so much love there, we support each other, we grow together. We laugh together all the time, there’s so much passion ( the sex is …. still absolutely off the charts and it’s been over 4 years). He still gives me butterflies constantly and he’s my best friend at the same time, like my absolute best friend. The way he looks at me as well… oh my god. It’s literally like I feel like I’m in an epic love song or something. And I love love love me time and I have down days, I want to be alone a lot of the time but with him it’s like… he’s actually my other half, I feel incomplete without him. He lets me have me time of course but… I like him being here more.

And the best part, we’re going to get MARRIED!! I always had mixed views on marriage and to be honest I still do. But after meeting this man, I knew I wanted to marry him. It doesn’t have to be the worlds idea of marriage it can be ours. Honestly I’d happily elope with him and get married just us two but really I can’t wait to have a big party with everyone we love. I want SO MANY FLOWERS and plants, I want homemade decorations and cake. I want so much of our personalities put into it. A celebration of us. Then life after marriage? I really truly believe our fairy tale will just keep on going. I couldn’t imagine life without this man. He’s my obsession and … I’m his. We have no idea where our life will go, where we’ll live, what jobs we’ll do, if we’ll have kids but we know one thing, we’re in it together.

Basically I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I still need some self growth, I still have no idea what I’m doing. But I love it. Oh man I still want my glow up as well. To be honest I’m pretty happy with my appearance, the main thing for me is freaking out that other girls look like models and I look like a 16 year old … and my appearance never changes. Joe reminds me constantly though he thinks I’m perfect and he treats me like a god damn princess all the time, even when I’m difficult. I’ll still get a better hair cut, tan and get better at make up. Oh and hopefully grow some tits and ass. But I don’t really care what other people think anymore because I’m happy with myself and I know Joe loves me no matter what.

I’m enjoying this chapter of life … I cannot wait to see what comes next.