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OKAY so rangers apprentice is this book series set in medieval europe-adjacent, like it has countries clearly inspired by european regions and the names are usually related to the real world name, so that combined with the locations is not hard to figure out which countries are which
the main character is this 15 year old kid named Will who grows up throughout the series (11 books), and he’s the ranger’s apprentice in question. the Rangers are this ultra-secret group of spy archers who work for the king and a lot of ppl think they’re dark wizards but they’re actually just good at camouflage, so Will is apprenticed to one of the rangers and he ends up saving the country a couple times.
there’s not much of an overarching plot through the whole series but there are smaller arcs that go through a couple books, like books 1-4 are mostly together and then 5-6 could have been one long book, book 7 is a weird outlier that takes place between 4 and 5, and so on.
what’s interesting about the setting tho is that there’s not explicitly magic systems/users, but it’s heavily implied that there’s more to the world than meets the eye (i think there’s demons in a spin-off series? idk haven’t read that one yet) it’s sooooo fun
and the characters are super engaging too!!! there’s Will, the protagnist; Halt, his mentor; Horace, his best friend; Alyss the love interest; and lots more side characters that are interesting too and even tho i described them as how they relate to Will, they all get super interesting development and backstory. this got so long i’m sorry but rangers apprentice is one of the best book series i’ve ever read and i highly recommend it :33
Finally archers getting the attention and spotlight they deserve! (can you tell I’m partial??)
It’s really interesting (in a good way) that there’s a “lack” of over-arching plot. a lot of longer “media” i’ve “consumed” (at least lately) has suffered from a sort of burn-out where the stakes feel wonky and over done, yet underwhelming after going on for so long; it’s often affected other stuff like continuity and character development and consistency (hello supernatural, how goes the Winchester self sacrifice reset?). I’m actually really excited to see how smaller chunks over longer time will feel after so long.
I also love the idea of a magic system not being explicitly stated wether it’s it a star wars-y “long time ago in a galaxy far far away” type thing were it’s implied that you’re reading an in universe recollection where you’re already supposed to “know” or it’s a narrative tool for the author to frame perspective/plot twists etc
I’m gonna go now and start looking for epubs and shit even though my kindles broke :,( (fuck you ryaniar) and i’m looking for a new one
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personapeters · 1 month ago
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✰ 𝐛𝐟!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐠𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
— rich boyfriend rafe and his whole heartedly pogue girlfriend
rating: sfw — cw: none
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— boyfriend!rafe who… actually gets annoyed when you spend your money instead of his: “look, baby, i know you can but why when i’m literally throwing my card at you?” he questioned. “i’m not taking it, rafe,” you rebutted. “yeah? okay, don’t,” he mumbled, casually dropping a banded stack of cash onto your lap.
— boyfriend!rafe who… absolutely judged a book by it’s cover when you first met, knowing you were from a side of town he didn’t favor, but your beauty was something he couldn’t ignore. though, his outlook barely shifted; technically, not all pogues were trash, but he considered you to be the one and only exception.
— boyfriend!rafe who… is used to getting what he wants, so he was highly taken aback when you declined his first offer to go out. it was new and completely foreign, but it only made him want you even more — he’s always had a desire to obtain the ‘unobtainable’
— boyfriend!rafe who… caught so much shit from topper and kelce when they found out about his relationship with a pogue; so much so that rafe almost fought them over it, telling them to ‘get the fuck over it’ and to never speak on you again.
— boyfriend!rafe who… on occasion would reluctantly let your pogue friends go out on his yacht with the two of you for the day, which ultimately would end with him dropping them off an hour (or four) early. he wants them miles away from his pristine boat but loves how happy you look when you were all together.
— boyfriend!rafe who… hears you mention liking something once and makes sure it’s in your hands before the following day ends. they were always simple things like a cute t-shirt or sunglasses, which, to him, were so cheap and mundane that he found it rather adorable when you’d cherish them like literal gold.
— boyfriend!rafe who… isn’t too fond of where you live — your house being small, somewhat falling apart, and overall something far below rafe’s standards. he wishes you’d take him up on his offer to simply get you an apartment on his side of town: “okay, but it’d be so much better for you… and you’d be closer to me,” he mumbled, a small smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips.
— boyfriend!rafe who… takes you riding on his dirt bike to go sightseeing across figure eight, often taking the long way home just to feel your arms wrapped around his waist for just a little longer. you once asked if you could drive it, which would have been your first time, to which he immediately said, “fuck no, what — you tryin’ to break your neck? no.”
— boyfriend!rafe who… tried his first ever boxed mac and cheese with you, as random as it was, after you insisted it’s the greatest inexpensive food on earth; him beforehand saying, “what? y/n, that’s fucking powder…” but after he tried a bite of yours, he reluctantly said, “it’s not that bad… i might see the appeal.”
— boyfriend!rafe who… gives you ‘ultimatums’ when buying you clothes (although, you always insist you don’t need them), saying he’ll get you whatever you want as long as you try on some of his picks first. he would have gotten whatever you wanted regardless, he just liked seeing you model for him, which, secretly, you knew.
— boyfriend!rafe who… buys you extremely expensive jewelry and lies about the price, saying it’s a hundred times cheaper than it is to avoid you trying to give it back. he enjoys watching the dainty bracelet on your wrist or gold studs in your ears glint in the sunlight, knowing that you’re clueless on that fact that they’re the nicest money could buy — he needs only the best for his girl.
— boyfriend!rafe who… truly hated physical touch until you showed him it could be gentle — that it could be sweet, and warm, and kind, and didn’t have to leave him bloody or sore. he loves when you run your nails gingerly across his scalp or hold his hand in your lap, twisting absentmindedly at the rings adorning his long fingers; a type of touch (and love) he’d never felt before
— boyfriend!rafe who… craves your validation, no matter how big or small. he just needs to hear that he did something right, something good, something you’re proud of. he wants to hear you tell him he did a great job at making you dinner or picking out a dress for your spontaneous outings — your approval means so much more to him than you’d ever know.
— boyfriend!rafe who… uses his high status to (begrudgingly) help your pogue friends get out of whatever trouble they land themselves into, knowing it means alot to you and takes a weight off your shoulders: “m’doing this for you, alright? not them, you.”
— boyfriend!rafe who… is pretty heavy on pda. he doesn’t care whose watching when he lazily drapes a possessive arm around your shoulders, or when he kisses you messily with full force; whether it be a kook or pogue witnessing his shameless affections, he didn’t care — who’d dare to say something about it?
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 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist
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fushitoru · 1 month ago
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all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic
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pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader
summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.
warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself
a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33
general masterlist
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You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.
When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.
You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”
He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”
You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”
“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”
Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.
One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.
He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.
Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.
“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.
Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.
“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.
“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”
“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”
The room went dead silent.
Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.
Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”
You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”
“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”
“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.
“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”
“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”
He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”
“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.
You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”
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Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.
After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.
As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.
He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.
You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”
He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”
The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”
You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”
His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.
“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”
Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”
“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.
You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.
Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.
His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.
When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”
Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”
At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”
Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.
Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”
Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”
“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.
Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.
“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.
“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”
You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.
“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.
“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”
“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.
Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.
A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”
You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.
“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”
Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”
Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.
“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”
And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.
You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.
And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”
“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.
It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.
“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.
He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”
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reidrum · 7 months ago
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close to home | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x reader
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a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe
cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares
wc: 2.4k
summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar
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Whenever the BAU has a case based in the D.C. area, it’s always a little easier on the team. Familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. The hard part about home cases is knowing there’s a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.
Spencer and Callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. The unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. Spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what Garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. Morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. He felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by Hotch and Garcia entering the bullpen.
“Police just got a 911 call about a break in, but there’s a witness this time. She was home when it happened and it looks like he didn’t expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. I think it sounds like our unsub. Morgan and Reid, I need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.” Hotch explained.
Morgan and Reid nodded as Garcia spoke up, “I just sent the address to your phones, it’s a house on Hillcrest so it's not that far from here.”
Spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say Hillcrest, “Did you say Hillcrest?”
“Yeah, Hillcrest Drive. It’s like, a 15 minute drive, not that far.”
He felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. That was the street you lived on. He tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.
“Garcia, what’s the house number?”
“Reid, I already sent it to your pho-“
“Garcia, what is the house number,” he spoke again. 
Please don’t say 1159. Please don’t say 1159. Please don’t say-
“1159.”
Fuck. The color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. Spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you. Last night? This morning? He doesn’t check on you as much as he does when he’s not on a case, but oh my god why can’t he remember the last time he saw you.
“Reid,” Hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, “What is it? What do you know?”
He shook his head, “Nothing. Morgan, let’s go.” he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.
Morgan, Garcia, and Hotch all looked at each other in concern, before Morgan spoke up, “I’ll see what’s up.” The latter two nodded softly, though the worry didn’t let up in their eyes.
Morgan walked up to the car to find Spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.
Spencer was alerted by Morgan’s presence hearing the car unlock but he didn’t even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. Morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.
“Okay Reid, spill it. It’s obvious you know who lives here.” Morgan speaks up.
“Just drive, please.”
“Because if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.”
“Morgan, just drive.” he borderline yells.
He raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, “Listen kid, i’m just trying to help you. I can see you’re upset but we’re on the same side, you know that.”
Spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didn’t even know about. He’d kept you a secret for many reasons— your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. After what happened with Maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didn’t get tangled up in his line of work.
Some job he did of that.
The one thing he regrets about how he handled the Maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. For not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. He’d always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.
He loved you so much. You were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. A breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. You were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. He still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.
“Any risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.”
Tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. If you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.
He cleared his throat, and Morgan’s ears perked up, “My uh, my girlfriend lives there. Where the unsub, at- attacked.” he voiced softly.
Morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, Spencer missing the way his face dropped. He tightened his hands on the wheels, and without hesitation he turned the lights and siren on and shifted gears to speed up.
__
The car pulled onto your street and the first thing Spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. Morgan doesn’t even put the car in park before Spencer’s bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.
He’s asking all the paramedics he’s passing if they’ve seen you or know if you’re being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didn’t know. The tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.
He whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and he’s never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. You watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. He’s definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. He’s overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows you’re safe and okay.
“Hi,” you choke out muffled, “Funny seeing you here.”
He pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. His heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.
“Hi, honey,” he lets out tearfully, “Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not. But what did the paramedics say? Did they give you anything? Are you sure they checked all your injuries? You know what, let me go call the guy over. I’ll be two seconds.” his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck you’re sat in to find the emt.
Upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.
You were okay, but at what cost.
The EMT leaves you two and Spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight he’s hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. It’s at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.
Spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as you’re attempting to beat your body’s fear response. The slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.
“It’s over, baby, they won’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”
You sniffle, “I know, I just can’t believe this happened. To me. To us. It’s not fair to you.” trailing off the last two words.
“To me? Wh- what do you mean?”
You take a deep breath, “I don’t mean to bring it up again, I just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience you’ve had. and I hoped that I wouldn’t be in a position to make you feel that way again. I don’t know why this happened, I'm sorry.”
He looked down at you incredulously, genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. It was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.
“Oh sweetheart,” he chokes out, realizing you’ve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, “What happened is not your fault, do you understand me? My job is to always worry about you and your safety. When Garcia said the address I…I couldn’t even process it, I don’t even know how I got to the car,” he shook his head, “But I am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. I will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?”
“Okay,” you take a shaky breath, “I love you.”
“I love you.” he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
Both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be SSA Derek Morgan. You knew Spencer hadn’t told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.
Spencer’s grip didn’t let up when he bent down and whispered, “It’s okay, he knows.” You look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.
“Reid, I already talked to the detectives and we’re good to go when you’re ready,” he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, “Hi sweetheart, I’m Derek Morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”
Spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, “Hi Derek, I’ve heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you too.”
“I wish it were under better circumstances,” he sighs, “Listen, I know it’s all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if you’re able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat before protesting, “Absolutely not. We can do it later, it’s fine.”
“Reid-“
You look up at him placing your hand on his chest, “Spence, It’s okay. I want to help, please.”
He rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, “Okay, but i’m not leaving you alone for a second.”
“I didn’t think you would.” you smile.
“Alright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.” Derek teases.
Spencer groans, “See, this is why i didn’t say anything.”
“You think I’m bad? Wait till Penelope meets her.”
__
The three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to Spencer’s apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. You end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. Spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.
“She’s cute,” Derek starts, “Can I ask how long?”
“Nine months.” he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.
“Pretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? Maybe we’re not as good profilers as we thought.”
“Imagine that,” he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, “Look.”
Spencer’s holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and Spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. You’re sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. The first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. The second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. The last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.
The edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. It was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.
“You look really happy, kid.” Derek says, thinking about the many times he’s seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering he’s had at the hands of his job. His heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.
“I am.”
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wonusite · 1 year ago
Text
Endless Adoration
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❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞
PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader
GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating
A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.
Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.
His little sister, however, does not see it that way.
Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.
Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.
“It’s caramel.”
You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”
Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.
Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.
“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.
“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”
Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.
“It’s caramel.”
“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”
Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”
It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.
“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”
Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.
“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”
It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”
Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.
“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”
“You what?”
His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.
Fuck.
You were going to kill him.
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It’s not Mingyu’s fault.
When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.
“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.
Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.
Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.
You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.
Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.
Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”
The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.
“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”
He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.
“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”
The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”
Fuck.
Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.
The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.
“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”
Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.
“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.
Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”
All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.
When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.
You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.
You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.
“Are you ready?”
Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.
“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”
You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”
The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.
“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”
“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.
Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.
You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.
“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”
Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.
“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”
His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.
“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.
Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.
“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.
Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.
“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”
Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.
“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.
You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”
Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.
The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.
When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.
Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.
The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.
“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.
You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.
Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.
“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”
The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.
Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.
Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.
“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.
“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”
You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”
Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”
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In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.
The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.
It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.
The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.
“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.
His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.
“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”
Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.
Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.
“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”
Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”
“Why? That’s why I have you.”
Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.
By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.
The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.
“Here.”
You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.
“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.
The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.
For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.
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Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.
He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.
Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.
It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.
Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.
“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.
Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.
Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.
Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.
These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.
Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.
In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.
At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.
As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.
After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.
Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.
When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.
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“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”
It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.
“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”
Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.
Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.
“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”
The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.
“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”
“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.
“You’re not?”
“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”
Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.
“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”
He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.
The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.
If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.
Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.
“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.
The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.
Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.
“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.
As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.
You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.
“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”
“I want you to fuck me now.”
Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”
He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.
“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”
You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.
Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.
“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”
You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.
“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.
Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.
“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”
The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.
“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”
When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.
Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.
You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”
That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.
“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”
You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.
Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.
Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.
If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.
Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.
“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”
Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.
“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.
Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.
“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.
Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.
It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.
“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.
Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.
His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.
“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”
Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.
Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.
Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.
“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.
Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.
You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.
When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”
You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.
Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.
“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.
You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”
He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.
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taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors
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mooomuzan · 21 days ago
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─── SANTA TELL ME
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they spend christmas with you ! sae , rin , kaiser , isagi , nagi , reo , fluff
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ღ — Sae doesn’t do cliché Christmas traditions. Instead, he drags you to an upscale restaurant, every detail of the night meticulously planned, yet somehow effortless. The gift? A small velvet box set on the table between the two of you. He watches your reaction with calm detachment, but the faint smirk curling his lips reveals his satisfaction when you light up. “I didn’t get this just anywhere,” he says, leaning back in his chair, his tone cool but teasing. Later, as snow falls lightly outside, he walks you home, his hands stuffed in his pockets, but his shoulder brushing yours every step of the way.
ღ — Rin isn’t one for grand gestures, but the thoughtfulness in his actions speaks volumes. He hands you a gift—simple wrapping, neat folds—his gaze unwavering, as if daring you to find fault with it. “Open it,” he says curtly, his voice carrying that familiar edge. But when you lift the lid and see the item—a rare piece you’d mentioned only once in passing—there’s a faint flush on his cheeks, barely noticeable. He doesn’t look at you, but the way his hand lingers briefly over yours tells you everything. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, low and dismissive, but the care in his choice betrays him.
ღ — Kaiser makes Christmas a spectacle, just like everything else he does. He doesn’t just hand you a gift—he orchestrates an entire scene. The lights are dim, the tree sparkles with precision, and in his hand is a sleekly wrapped box with his signature flair. “I picked this out myself,” he says smugly, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that dare you not to be impressed. Inside is something extravagant—a rare piece of jewelry or an item tied to an inside joke only you two share. When you look up, he smirks, leaning casually against the wall. “You deserve the best, don’t you?” he says, but the way his fingers linger at your chin when he tilts your face toward his is surprisingly tender. Later, as snow falls outside, he pulls you close, his voice low and intimate. “You’re my star this Christmas,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your temple, and for once, the arrogance melts away, leaving only sincerity.
ღ — Isagi is all nervous smiles and excited energy as he places the gift in your hands, the wrapping slightly uneven but clearly done with care. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes as you peel back the paper. When you pull out the scarf he’d seen you eyeing weeks ago, his grin widens, warm and unrestrained. “Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft but eager, and when you nod, he pulls his own scarf off to wrap around you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Merry Christmas,” he says, his voice full of sincerity.
ღ — Nagi’s idea of Christmas is low-key but meaningful. He shows up late, as usual, holding a gift bag he clearly picked up last-minute, but when you pull out the contents—a limited-edition game you thought was sold out—your jaw drops. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles, leaning against the wall, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Figured we could play it together.” Later, you find him sprawled on your couch, the glow of the TV reflecting in his lazy smile as he hands you the controller. “Merry Christmas,” he says, his voice soft, his focus entirely on you despite the game.
ღ — Reo’s Christmas is extravagant, as expected. He surprises you with a beautifully decorated room, a tree dripping with lights and ornaments, and a pile of gifts that feels almost overwhelming. “I wanted to make this perfect,” he says, his voice warm but tinged with nervousness. The gifts are thoughtful—things you’ve mentioned wanting, alongside ones you didn’t even realize you needed. But the one that means the most is a handwritten letter, tucked inside a small box. “Read it later,” he says softly, pulling you into a hug as the snow falls outside. His arms tighten around you, and for once, he doesn’t need words to show how much you mean to him.
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wheres-mylove · 4 months ago
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puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader
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Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!
Word count: 2.5k
A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.  
She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.
Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.
“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.
“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.
“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”
“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”
Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”
The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”
“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”
“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”
With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.  
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.
She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.
She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.
Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.
“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”
Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.
“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”
Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.
The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.
“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”
And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.
“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.
She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.
“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”
She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?
“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.
“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.
The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.
She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.
“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”
Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”
Ah. The young Stark. 
“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”
The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.
The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.
“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.
It was the girl’s turn to laugh.
“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.
“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”
“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.” 
“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”
Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.
“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”
Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.
“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”
“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”
“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”
(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”
“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”
Smooth, Cregan, smooth.
Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.
“Now, let’s help you with that.”
That old hag was right. He had good arms.
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The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.
But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.
Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.
Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was. 
Helaena Targaryen.
“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before she even had a chance to say hello.
“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” she shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”
“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”
“I mean,” the girl sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”
He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.
Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”
(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”
“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”
The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”
“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”
(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”
“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”
She knew he wasn’t.
“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”
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A strange noise woke her up.
It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.
“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.
Frosty?
She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.
He wanted her to follow him.
“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty kept looking back at her to make sure she was keeping up.
In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.
“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.
“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.
“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.
“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.
“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”
Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”
“You really got that worried?” 
“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”
That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.
“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”
“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”
Cregan placed the mug in front of her.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.
Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.
“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”
Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.
“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.
“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.
(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?
“Are you asking me out?”
He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”
“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.
“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”
He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”
She liked him so much.
“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?” 
“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.
Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.
Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.
Well done, human.
979 notes · View notes
sergeantbarnessdoll · 8 days ago
Text
Treat You Better » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Ex Boyfriend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky explains how much better he would treat you compared to how his son treated you.
Warnings: Smut (18+), Fluff, language, age gap (reader is in her 20s), crying, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, size kink, praise kink, vibranium arm kink, daddy kink, Bucky’s dog tags, aftercare, pet names
A/N: I wrote this a little over a year ago, but I accidentally deleted it so I wrote it again. Enjoy!
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buck-star
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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Bucky has noticed that you haven’t been coming over lately. You always come over to hangout with his son Aiden, your now ex boyfriend. Aiden broke up with you, because he found someone prettier than you. Now, here you are, with a box full of Aiden’s stuff that he left at your house and standing outside of his dad’s house. Bucky smiles after he opened the door when he seen you.
“Hi, Y/N.” Bucky greets with a smile, stepping aside to allow you to come inside the house.
“Hi, Mr. Barnes.” You say.
Bucky knew something was off with you by the sound of your voice. It doesn’t sound like your normal cheery and sweet self.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Can you tell Aiden that I dropped his stuff off please?” You asked, completely bypassing his question and putting the box on the table.
Bucky gently grabbed your arm before you could walk away. He knows something’s wrong with you and he’s going to figure out what it is.
“What’s wrong?” He asks again with worry in his voice.
“I don’t want to unload my problems onto you.” You muttered, your voice cracking.
You looked down at your feet, avoiding eye contact. Bucky gently tilted your head up so you were looking in his blue eyes.
“Talk to me.” He says softly.
You didn’t say anything. Bucky didn’t miss the way your bottom lip quivered. He seen a couple tears roll down your cheeks.
“Did my son do something to hurt you?” He asks.
You nodded your head yes.
“Did he cheat on you?” He asked. “I swear if-” You cut him off.
“Aiden didn’t cheat on me.” You finally spoke up.
“Then what did he do that has you so upset?” He asked.
“He found a girl prettier than me and broke up with me.” You tell him.
That’s when you broke down into tears. Bucky immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. You laid your head again his chest as you cried your eyes out. He rubbed your back soothingly to help calm you down.
“Look at me.” Bucky whispers.
You sniffled and looked up at Bucky with teary eyes.
“I want you to listen to me when I say this.” He wipes your tears away. “You are beautiful. Don’t ever say you’re not.” He says softly.
“Thanks.” You sniffled again. “You’re just saying that to be nice.” You say, looking down and fiddling with his shirt.
Bucky tilted your head up to get you to look him in the eye.
“I’m saying it cause it’s the truth.” He caresses your cheek softly. “My son is an idiot for not seeing that.” He says softly.
You stared in his beautiful blue eyes, getting lost in them. Before you knew it, your lips were on his. You realized it after a few seconds and pulled away.
“I’m so sorry!” You apologized. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
Instead of saying something, he kissed you passionately. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. Your hands grasped his shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands. You melted into his touch.
“Let me show you how beautiful you are.” Bucky says against your lips.
You nodded your head, giving him permission to do so. Bucky picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You carded your fingers through his soft brown hair and kissed his neck as he carried you to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut with his foot before he gently laying you down on his bed.
Bucky hovered over you, his Army dog tags dangling above your face. You grabbed the chain of it, giving it a tug to pull him down for an eager kiss. He lightly chuckled at your eagerness. This kiss was more eager, but also passionate. Bucky’s lips were soft against yours. The stubble of his beard scratched against your skin as he kissed you, which you loved.
Bucky’s hands trailed down your body, disappearing under your shirt. One hand warm and one hand cold against your skin. His hands rubbed up and down your sides. His hand then found the bottom of your shirt. He pulled away from the kiss, looking at you for permission, which you gave him. You sat up just enough for him to take it off and throw it somewhere in the bedroom. He got quickly entranced by your beauty.
Bucky leaned down, kissing along your skin and marking it up. You sighed contentedly while running your fingers through his soft hair.
“You’re so beautiful.” Bucky softly murmurs against your skin.
You blushed when he called you beautiful. You haven’t been called that in a while.
One of his hands slid to your back, expertly unclasping your bra. He took it off of you and dropped it on the floor. Bucky eyed your breasts before marking them up with hickeys. He slowly kissed his way down your body, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. He looked up at you for permission, which you gave him. He unbuttoned and unzipped them. You lifted your hips so he could take your shorts off. Your panties are now exposed to him. The wet spot on your panties was now visible to him.
Bucky couldn’t help but admire the lace fabric on your body. His fingers traced the floral pattern on your panties. He then kissed your hipbones through your panties before placing soft kisses on your inner thighs after spreading your legs apart so he could get in between them. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and stopped, looking up at you for permission. You nodded and lifted your hips just enough for him to take your panties off.
You shivered when you felt Bucky’s breath against your wet pussy. His vibranium thumb rubbed your throbbing clit. A gasp left your lips when you felt the feeling of the cool vibranium of his thumb. As Bucky continued to rub your clit, his tongue licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He moaned at your taste. Your hands found their way to his head. Your fingers began tugging on his soft hair when he started eating you out.
“Oh, Bucky!” You moaned loudly.
The sound of your moans was music to his ears. Bucky loves the way his name sounds when you say it and moan it.
“Does that feel good, babydoll?” Bucky asks gruffly.
“Mhmm, yes!” You moaned, nodding your head.
You gasped when the tip of his tongue prodded your entrance as he licked from your entrance to your clit again. Bucky brought his vibranium hand to your pussy, one of his fingers circling your entrance. He took his mouth off of your pussy momentarily so he could watch his vibranium finger slide in your pussy.
“Fuck…” He mumbles, watching his finger move in and out of your pussy at a slow pace. “I can’t wait to feel this sweet pussy around my cock.” He practically moans.
Bucky added another finger, moving his fingers faster. He curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, making you moan loudly.
“Did I find your little spot, doll face?” He asks teasingly.
“Yes.” You nodded your head vigorously. “Please don’t stop.” You begged.
Bucky latched his lips back onto your clit, sucking on it as he fucked you with his vibranium fingers. Pleasure took over your body quicker than ever before. It’s like Bucky has known your body long before this. At least, that’s what it feels like for you and him.
“Daddy!” You blurted out in a moan without realizing it.
He took his lips off of your clit and looked up at you with a smirk on his face. You looked down at him, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you realized what you just called him.
“Mr. Barnes, I-” Bucky cut you off by curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot, making you moan loudly.
“So I’m daddy now, huh?” He asks teasingly.
“I didn’t- I mean-” You couldn’t figure out what you wanted to say due to the pleasure you were receiving from his vibranium fingers.
“Say it again.” His voice sounded husky and low. “I want to hear you fucking say it again.” He says, curling his fingers again.
“Daddy!” You cried out in pleasure.
Your moans went straight to his cock, making it uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He was jonesing to feel what your pussy feels like wrapped around his cock.
Bucky put his mouth back on your clit, sucking on it while his vibranium fingers continued to fuck you. You could feel your orgasm building up faster than ever before. You felt like you were about to fall over the edge. Bucky could sense it too.
“Cum for daddy, babydoll.” Bucky says.
You did just that. You came so hard that you soaked his face and vibranium hand. His vibranium fingers fucked you through your orgasm. His vibranium thumb gave your clit one last rub before he took his fingers out of your pussy.
You laid there trying to catch your breath from the mind blowing orgasm your ex boyfriend’s dad just gave you. It felt like you were on cloud nine. You’ve never came that hard before. Not that you remember.
After a moment, you lifted your head to look at Bucky. A pouty formed on your lips when you noticed that Bucky was still fully clothed and you were completely naked on his bed.
“What’s with the pout, pretty girl?” Bucky asks, caressing your cheek with his right hand and rubbing his thumb across your pouty lips.
“You’re still fully clothed.” You say, the pouty staying on your face.
Bucky chuckles before hovering over you and kissed you. He then got off the bed to take his clothes off. You watched with hungry eyes when you seen his perfectly sculpted body. A shiver shot through your body when he unbuckled his belt, along with unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. You were practically drooling when he pulled down his jeans and boxers in one go, revealing his hard cock.
“You want daddy’s cock, babydoll?” Bucky asks, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroked it.
“Yes I do, daddy.” You answered, almost whining.
Bucky chuckles lightly before getting on the bed in between your spread legs. He put your legs on his thighs before lining his cock at your pussy. He rubbed his cock against your pussy, getting it wet with your slick.
“Daddy…” You whined.
“Alright, alright. Daddy will give you his cock now.” He says.
Bucky slowly slid his cock in your pussy, inch by inch. A soft moan fell from your lips the more his cock entered you.
He’s the biggest you’ve ever had. He’s definitely bigger than your ex boyfriend.
Bucky allowed you to adjust to his size when his cock was fully inside of you. You nodded, giving him permission to start thrusting. Bucky pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you and then thrusted back into you.
“Oh my god!” You moaned, throwing your head back against a pillow. “You’re so big!” You moaned again.
Grunts fell from his lips from how tight you are.
“Fucking tight…” Bucky grunts lowly. “He didn’t fuck you good, did he?” He asks.
“No.” You shook your head and pouted.
“I’ll show you how a real man does it, babydoll.” He says.
“Yes please!” You begged in a whiny voice.
Bucky’s right hand grasped onto the headboard while his vibranium hand put one of your legs over his shoulder and started fucking you at a pace you’ve never experienced. You sure as hell know that you love it.
Your hands scrambled to find something to hold onto. One hand held onto his sheets beneath you, clutching the fabric in your hand while you put your other one on his abdomen just to feel it. His abs flexed against your hand every time he thrusted into you.
Pleasure took over you. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You never wanted it to end. You were loving everything about this and so was Bucky.
“You feeling good, doll?” Bucky asks.
“Mhmm, yes!” You moaned.
Your moans were like music to Bucky’s ears.
He increased the speed of his thrusts. His cock was hitting all of the right spots. You arched your back in pleasure. Bucky got an eyeful of your breasts when you pushed them up towards him. He dipped his head down, kissing along your soft skin. His teeth nipped on your skin to mark up your breasts. He then kissed his way up to your neck and kissed just below your ear, a soft moan leaving your lips.
“You’re being a good girl for daddy.” Bucky praises, whispering in your ear.
You moaned at his praise. Praise kink… unlocked.
“You like it when daddy praises you, doll?” He asks.
“Yes, daddy.” You answered in a moan.
You grasped onto his bicep, digging your nails in his skin. Bucky moans when he felt your pussy squeeze around his cock.
Bucky then readjusted the two of you. He took your leg off of his shoulder and wrapped it around his waist, along with your other leg. His right hand left the headboard and he hovered over you, caging your head in between his arms and his dog tags dangling just above your chest.
“Look at me, pretty girl.” Bucky demands softly.
You looked up at him in your pleasure filled state. Lust clouded his blue eyes. He had a soft expression on his face. His vibranium hand gently cupped your cheek, caressing it. His vibranium thumb rubbed against your bottom lip. You voluntarily parted your lips for Bucky to slide his thumb in your mouth. You closed your lips around his thumb and began to swirl your tongue around it like you would do to suck his cock. Bucky watched intently.
“Fuck…” He grunts softly.
You grinned around his thumb innocently. That made Bucky want you more. He sped up his thrusts at the sight of the innocent grin on your face.
He took his thumb out of your mouth and kissed you hungrily. You moaned against his lips. Your hands found their way to his head, carding your fingers through his soft dark brown hair.
You felt like a coil tighten in your stomach. Your second orgasm was building up quicker than your first one.
“I’m close again.” You whimpered softly.
Bucky’s vibranium hand snaked its way down your body to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles to help your orgasm build up even more.
“Cum for me, gorgeous.” He pants.
You moaned his name loudly when that coil snapped, coming harder than you did the first time. Your legs were trembling against his sides. Bucky gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. He could feel himself close to coming too. He tried to unwrap your legs from his waist so he could pull out of you and not cum inside of you, but you weren’t haven’t it. Your legs tightened around his waist.
“You gotta let go, doll.” Bucky coos, gently tapping your thigh with his vibranium hand.
“No!” You whined.
“I can’t cum inside of you.” He pants, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
“I want you to.��� You tell him. “Fill me up, daddy!” You moaned.
“God damn…” He moans.
Bucky leaned his head against your shoulder, his face in the crook of your neck. You kissed his neck softly before nipping on his skin to give him a hickey.
Bucky finally came, coming inside of you and painting your walls with his cum. His thrusts slowed down before he pulled out of you, his cum leaking out of your pussy. He laid down next to you and covered the two of you up with a blanket. You snuggled yourself against his side and he wrapped his arm around you. You laid your head on his chest, his fingers playing with his dog tags.
“Be mine?” Bucky asks after a couple moments.
“What?” You asked, lifting your head.
“Be mine?” He repeats. “You deserve to be loved and treated the right way by a real man. You obviously didn’t get any of the from my son. I can give you that and more.” He says.
You stared in his blue eyes for a moment, thinking about it. Bucky has a point. His son never gave you one ounce of love. You need that from a real man. That man happens to be Bucky.
“I’ll be yours.” You finally said with a smile.
Bucky smiles and kisses you passionately.
“Let’s take a shower and cleaned up.” He whispers against your lips.
You hummed in agreement. Bucky stood up and carried you to the bathroom, setting you on the sink counter. He turned the water on in the shower and waited a couple minutes for it to heat up. He walked back over to you and stood in between your legs, rubbing the tops of your thighs with his hands.
He then carried you to the shower and cleaned you up gently, pressing soft kisses against your skin as he did so. You leaned against his body, looking up at him with a smile on your face and the look of adoration. You reached up, putting your head on the back of his head and carded your fingers through his wet hair. Bucky smiles at the feeling. He then leaned his head down, kissing you sweetly and passionately. He wrapped his arms around your midsection, holding you close to him. After a few seconds, he pulled away from your lips, looking deep in your eyes with love and adoration.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky murmurs softly.
“I love you too, baby.” You softly murmured back.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
609 notes · View notes
rottenfyre · 22 days ago
Text
⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻
“ The Second Son: Blood Stained Bonds ”
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Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 1
Summary: After his death you left everything behind. You're still Bruce daughter but no longer a part of family. You had a new life and everything was fine, until the day someone left a box outside your door...
Warning: Physically violence/Choking.
Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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“You sure you’re ok?” he asked as she kissed him lightly on the lips.
“I’ll be fine,” she said smiling.
He searched her face for a moment before nodding, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back late.”
As Daniel left, she closed the door behind him and exhaled, her chest tightening. She shook it off, slipping out of her shoes and heading straight for the shower. Maybe hot water would ease the tension coiled in her spine.
The steam filled the small bathroom quickly, clinging to the mirror and fogging the glass. She stepped under the stream, letting the water rush over her skin. It was almost too hot, but she relished the way it scalded, burning away the nerves she carried like an old scar.
She hummed softly, a melody that she didn’t recognize but felt familiar all the same. Her thoughts wandered as the water cascaded over her, but something pulled her back.
A sound.
She froze, water streaming down her face. She strained her ears, her breath catching in her throat.
Nothing.
It was probably nothing. The pipes, maybe. This building wasn’t new, and the plumbing always made strange noises. She shook her head, laughing softly at her paranoia, and returned to her shower.
But the feeling didn’t go away.
She felt it then—the distinct sensation of being watched. Her fingers tightened into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She counted slowly in her head, telling herself she was imagining it, that she was safe. Safe.
The ringing of the doorbell shattered the silence.
She jumped, her heart slamming against her ribs. The water continued to pour over her, but the incessant ringing pulled her focus. It didn’t stop.
“Seriously?” she muttered, cutting the water off and grabbing a towel. Wrapping it hastily around herself, she stormed out of the bathroom, her wet feet slapping against the tile floor.
The ringing continued, grating against her nerves.
“Alright, alright!” she yelled, yanking the door open with more force than necessary. She grabbed the towel, wrapped it tightly around herself, irritation bubbling to the surface. The ringing didn’t stop. Again. Again. Over and over, like whoever was behind the door had nothing better to do than torment her.
“Coming!” she yelled, stomping toward the door, her wet feet leaving angry prints on the hardwood.
No one was there.
Just a box.
She blinked, her gaze dropping to the large cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat. There was no note, no markings, nothing to indicate where it came from or who had sent it.
She sighed, irritation flickering through her. Probably Bruce, she thought, stepping forward and dragging the box inside. She left it by the coffee table, her focus already back on her shower. The towel was damp against her skin, and all she wanted was to feel clean and warm again.
By the time she was out of the shower, dressed in an old sweatshirt and leggings, she’d nearly forgotten about the box. She made a cup of tea, settling onto the couch with the remote, flipping through channels.
Everything was dull. Every show, every movie. Nothing held her attention. Her gaze drifted to the box.
It sat there, innocuous yet somehow foreboding.
She hesitated before setting her tea down and kneeling in front of it. The tape peeled away easily, the cardboard flaps opening to reveal its contents.
Her breath caught.
The first thing she saw was the Batgirl suit.
Her old suit, neatly folded, its colors dimmed by time and wear. Beneath it were other items: a small photograph, trinkets she hadn’t seen in years.
She reached for the photo first.
It was a picture of her and Jason. He was grinning, his arm slung around her shoulders, while she was caught mid-laugh. The memory hit her like a wave. She’d teased him relentlessly that day about his messy hair, and he’d retaliated by messing up hers until they were both in a fit of laughter.
"You look like you just rolled out of bed Jaybird," she said with a smirk, poking fun at him.
Jason rolled his eyes but grinned back. "Says the girl who hasn’t combed her hair in days."
She laughed, flipping her own hair over her shoulder dramatically. And just like that, they’d been caught in a moment of unguarded joy.
Jason, ruffled her hair, making it even messier than before. “There. Now you look like me!” he teased.
She gasped in mock horror, instantly reaching up to fix her hair. “What did you do?”
Her fingers trembled as she set the photo down and reached for the next item. A bracelet he’d made for her—clumsy knots of red and green string. She’d worn it for months until it fell apart.
“You like it?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.
“Of course I do,” she’d replied, smiling softly as she accepted the bracelet. It was clumsy, but in that moment, it felt like the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given her.
Then came a note in her handwriting. She remembered writing it, a quick scribble of encouragement before a patrol.
“You’ve got this, Jaybird. Show them what you’re made of.”
“You okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, a rare crack in his usual persona.
She hadn’t answered right away. Instead, she had sat beside him in silence. The hurt from the night before clung to her like a second skin. She hadn’t expected him to do anything—she didn’t need pity. But then, he did something she would never forget.
Without a word, Jason had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. It wasn’t some grand gesture, nothing theatrical. Just a simple, genuine hug. His cheek had rested against her hair, and for the briefest moment, she let herself feel weak. She let the tears threaten to spill.
“I’m here,” he had whispered, and his voice had been steady, warm. “We’ll get through it. Together.”
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. She clutched the note tightly, her chest heaving with silent sobs. The weight of everything she’d buried, everything she’d run from, came crashing down.
She remembered the good moments, the times Jason had made her laugh until her stomach hurt. The way he’d always looked at her, like she was the only person who mattered. The trust in his eyes when she’d told him they could make Bruce proud together.
She wiped her cheeks, but the tears kept coming.
Her gaze drifted back to the box. Something else was in there. Something heavier. She hesitated, her hands trembling as she reached for it.
It was a crowbar.
Bloodstained.
Her breath hitched, and the air seemed to leave the room. She dropped it, scrambling backward, her heart racing.
The shadows in the room seemed to shift, and for the first time, she felt utterly alone.
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The phone was cool against her ear as she sat cross-legged on the couch, staring at the opened box on the floor. Bruce answered on the second ring, his voice as steady and deep as she remembered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Bruce," she said softly. Her voice cracked despite her best effort to sound normal.
"Y/N." Relief washed over his tone, and she could almost see him leaning back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "I didn’t think you’d call back so soon."
She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’ve been meaning to. Just... been busy."
There was a pause, the kind that stretched uncomfortably long. Bruce, for all his control, didn’t handle emotional conversations well.
"How’s the family?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Bruce seemed to relax at the shift in focus. "They’re doing well. Dick had taken over Blüdhaven. Tim’s been working on a new case—too much, if you ask me. And Barbara’s focused on her tech projects."
"And Alfred?"
"Still the same. Still trying to make me take a day off. But he missed you. Everyone does." There was a faint smile in his voice now. "How about you? How’s university?"
"It’s good," she replied, twirling a strand of her damp hair. "They say I'm good, if I continue like that I will be a certified doctor."
"I’m proud of you," Bruce said quietly.
Her throat tightened at the sincerity in his words. "Thanks," she murmured. "And Daniel’s great. He’s... he’s good to me."
Bruce didn’t respond immediately, and she could hear the faint hum of the Batcave in the background.
"You’ve built a good life for yourself," he said finally. "But Gotham will always be your home, Y/N. You’ll always have a place here. You’ll always be my daughter."
Her smile faded, and she bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. "I can’t come back, Bruce," she said, her voice trembling. "Not after what I did."
"Y/N..." His voice softened in a way that was rare for him. "It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you both."
She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. "I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself. Jason—" Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard.
"Jason wouldn’t want you to carry this guilt," Bruce said firmly. "Neither do I. You didn’t fail him, Y/N. I did."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. She looked at the box on the floor again, her gaze locking onto the crowbar.
"Bruce," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "That box you sent—"
"What box?"
Her stomach dropped. "The one with my Batgirl suit. And... other things." She hesitated, her voice growing unsteady. "There was a crowbar in it, Bruce. It was bloodstained."
"I didn’t send you anything," Bruce said, his tone sharp now. "Y/N, what are you talking about?"
Her heart began to race. "You’re telling me you didn’t send it? You don’t know about the box?"
"No. I don’t know what you’re talking about."
The sound of glass shattering made her jump, and her head snapped toward the kitchen.
"Y/N?" Bruce’s voice was urgent, but she barely heard him.
"Something broke," she said, her voice distant. "I’ll call you back."
"Wait—"
She ended the call, her hand trembling as she set the phone down. Her gaze flicked to the crowbar lying on her desk.
Swallowing her fear, she grabbed it, the cold metal heavy in her hand. Slowly, she moved toward the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the floor.
The house was eerily quiet except for the faint creak of the floorboards under her weight. She tightened her grip on the crowbar, her pulse hammering in her ears.
When she reached the kitchen, she hesitated, her breath hitching as she peeked around the corner.
The window was open, a chilly breeze fluttering the curtains.
Her eyes darted to the broken mug on the floor and the small, furry figure perched on the counter.
A cat jumped down from the counter, its fur bristling as it hissed at her before darting out the open window.
She exhaled shakily, her knees threatening to give out. She lowered the crowbar, leaning against the counter as her heartbeat gradually slowed.
“Just a cat,” she muttered to herself. “Just a stupid cat.”
But the feeling didn’t leave her.
The sensation of being watched lingered, a prickling at the back of her neck. She glanced around the room again, her grip on the crowbar tightening.
“Stop it,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You’re just imagining things.”
She turned back to the box in the living room. Her mind raced with possibilities. If Bruce hadn’t sent it, then who had?
Joker?
No. It had been years. He had no reason to come after her now. But the thought nagged at her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
She glanced at the crowbar again, her stomach twisting. She needed to talk to Bruce.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t over.
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She felt it before she saw it. The impact of something heavy hitting her, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her vision was distorted, the world around her a wash of blurry shapes and smears. Everything was red—vivid, suffocating red that stained her mind and her skin, pressing down on her like an iron weight.
She was screaming, but the sound wasn’t hers.
She couldn’t breathe. The air was thick, suffocating, and she gasped for it, but it was as if her lungs couldn’t fill. Something—someone—was there, near her. She could hear him, his voice rising above.
His voice.
It was faint at first, but then it became clearer, cutting through the disarray.
“Don’t… don’t… please!”
Jason...
His voice, strained and desperate, barely reaching her through the fog in her mind.
“Please, please don’t... Don’t do this!”
She tried to focus, to clear the haze in her head. But it was so hard. What’s happening? Everything felt so wrong. Was he crying? Was he... begging?
Wait.
Why was he begging? Why was he crying?
His voice broke, and it stabbed her like a knife. Don’t cry, she thought, almost absently. Don’t cry, Jason. It’s not your fault.
He didn’t want her to be hurt.
Her chest tightened at the thought, and her vision flared with red-hot pain.
Why are you crying, Jason?
His voice broke through again, desperate, louder this time.
“Y/N!”
Her pulse stuttered at the sound of her name, raw with agony. She wanted to reach out, but her hands wouldn’t move. The world spun faster, and she couldn’t stop it. The walls around her were closing in.
She tried to focus on him—on his voice—but everything was blurring again. Why was he crying? Why was he… Why was he yelling?
It’s my fault, she thought desperately. I’m the one who did this. I ruined everything.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, everything went still.
She gasped for breath, but her body wouldn’t obey. Her chest constricted, and she tried to scream again, but the world around her was just too far away. The red haze thickened.
And then, everything went black.
She awoke with a start, gasping as though she had been submerged underwater. Her body trembled violently, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving for air.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
What was that?
She sat up in bed, her eyes wide as she tried to steady her breath. She hadn’t had a nightmare like that in so long. She thought she was done with them. But that voice… Jason’s voice, still echoing in her ears. The sound of his crying. The desperation. The guilt.
A soft ringing broke through her daze. The doorbell.
It was raining outside, the soft patter of the storm barely reaching her through the walls.
She stood slowly, wiping the sweat from her brow as she grabbed the crowbar from beside her bed. There was something about the ringing that set her nerves on edge. Something... wrong.
She moved cautiously down the stairs, every step creaking beneath her. Her hand gripped the crowbar tightly, knuckles white. She stopped at the door, staring at the peephole, but saw nothing—just the darkness of the storm.
She swallowed hard and turned the handle, swinging the door open.
Empty.
Her breath escaped in a shaky laugh as she shook her head. She was being paranoid.
Just a mistake. Just the wind. Or maybe a neighbor…
She laughed at herself again, weakly. How stupid could she be?
She started to close the door, her hand gripping the handle, when a sudden force slammed into her.
Her breath was crushed out of her as a hand gripped her throat, yanking her backward with brutal force. The crowbar fell from her hand, clattering uselessly to the floor as she was slammed against the door with such force that the wood shook.
She couldn’t breathe. Her hands flew to her neck, scratching, clawing at the hand that was squeezing the life out of her.
Everything was a blur, her vision fading in and out. But there were two eyes—two wild, unhinged eyes—staring at her through a mask of red. A twisted, maniacal grin was visible beneath the blood-streaked fabric. She gasped, her lungs screaming for air, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free. She was weightless now, her feet no longer touching the floor as the pressure on her throat intensified.
She kicked out, her feet uselessly struggling to find purchase. Her vision began to dim, a ringing in her ears drowning out the world. Everything was spinning. The edges of her vision were dissolving into darkness.
Is this how it ends?
Her throat tightened, her eyes burning with the effort of holding onto consciousness.
Is this it?
Her thoughts flickered. The coldness of the hand around her neck, the darkness closing in, everything felt too heavy, too wrong. She had no strength left. Her muscles screamed in protest, but they didn’t obey.
Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her sight. Her lungs burned with every desperate, ragged breath.
And then, the grip released.
She crumpled to the floor, gasping for air as her vision swam and her chest heaved.
Through the haze, she looked up, but everything was dark, save for the faint outline of a figure standing above her. She could barely make out the shape of a face, the contours of a body, but there was one thing she saw clearly.
Two eyes.
Green.
Tears filled those eyes, glistening in the dim light, staring at her with an intensity she couldn’t understand.
They were familiar.
But she couldn’t place them.
She blinked, but everything was slipping away.
Her mind was going blank, her body growing colder by the second. The last thing she saw was the figure, the two green eyes... and then, everything went dark again.
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Next: Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.
@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.
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rheeblogs · 15 days ago
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★ — HELP WANTED
★ — pairing : canon/contractor!abby anderson x fem!reader
★ — as a new homeowner, paying full price to get a remodel on things was so expensive. luckily abby anderson gave pretty faces major discounts.
★ — warnings : sexual content
🔖 : @thaatdigitaldiary @d3arapril @rosemariiaa @ashortyluvsports
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you weren’t much of a handyman—or handywoman, for that matter. when you moved into your new house, you quickly realized that the charm of its old bones came with a laundry list of things that needed fixing: a leaky faucet, creaky doors, shelves that threatened to collapse if you so much as looked at them.
that’s how you met abby anderson.
the first time you saw her, she was unloading a truck across the street, all lean muscles and work boots, her blonde braid sticking out from under a baseball cap. you didn’t think much of it at first, too busy trying to wrestle a box through your own front door. but when you dropped it with a loud thud, she appeared out of nowhere.
“you need a hand?”
her voice was warm, slightly teasing, and when you looked up, you were momentarily struck by her presence. abby was… well, extremely beautiful. sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a crooked smile that could melt steel.
——
after helping you with the box, abby quickly learned about your diy incompetence.
“so,” she said a few days later, leaning against the doorframe as you struggled to fix a curtain rod. “you always this good with tools, or am i just special enough to witness it?”
you turned, rolling your eyes at her smirk. “yeah, yeah, laugh it up. at least i’m trying.”
she chuckled, her gaze dropping to the small pile of mismatched screws and nails at your feet. “tell you what—how about i come by this weekend and help you out? i’m pretty handy, if i do say so myself.”
you hesitated, but the truth was you needed the help. “are you sure? i don’t wanna intrude.”
“darlin’,” she said, stepping closer and giving you a lopsided grin. “it’d be my pleasure.”
——
that sunday, abby showed up in a tank top and work pants, a toolbox slung over one shoulder. she whistled low when you opened the door.
“well, look at you,” she said, her eyes dragging over the black cropped tank you had on, showing off the bold tattoo on your right shoulder. “you dress up for me?”
you blushed, shaking your head. “you wish.”
“maybe i do,” she replied, her voice dropping slightly as she brushed past you, her shoulder grazing yours.
the day passed with abby fixing things at lightning speed while you hovered nearby, asking questions and offering her water or snacks. she made it impossible to concentrate, the way her muscles flexed when she tightened screws or hammered nails.
at one point, she caught you staring.
“enjoyin’ the view, ma’am?” she asked, smirking as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
you stammered, “i—i was just tryna’ make sure you were doin’ it right, that’s all.”
“uh-huh.” she leaned closer, her voice dipping into something more intimate. “if you’ve got any other… inspections in mind, let me know.”
your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.
——
by the time the sun set, abby had fixed more in one day than you thought possible. the two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by tools and scraps, laughing about the crooked shelf you had tried to install before she arrived.
“i can’t believe you thought duct tape would hold that up,” she teased, nudging you with her knee.
“look, desperate times, desperate measures,” you defended, shaking your head. “besides, you’re the expert. that’s why i have you now.”
her smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “yeah,” she said quietly. “you do.”
the air between you shifted, tension crackling like a live wire. abby’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt your breath catch.
“i—“ you started, but the words got stuck in your throat when abby reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“you’re something else, y’know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “been drivin’ me crazy all day.”
your heart hammered in your chest. “abby…”
“tell me to stop,” she said, her forehead nearly touching yours now. “i will. just say the word.”
instead of answering, you closed the gap, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that was so soft at first but quickly deepened. abby’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as the tension of the day finally snapped.
when you pulled back, breathless, she smirked. “so… does this mean i’m gettin’ that ‘thank-you’ dinner you promised?”
you laughed, tugging her back in. “dinner can wait.”
——
abby had you sprawled against your bed, the same bed that she fixed hours earlier. your bra was thrown across the room, landing on the vanity she just remodeled.
“fuckin’ beautiful, i fuckin’ knew it,” she says, looking at you like prey, and you can feel yourself salivating at the way her muscles bulge when she manhandles you. “spread those legs, sweetheart, lemme’ see you.”
you spread yourself to abby’s liking, your pants and panties discarded on your rug, leaving you fully bare in front of your next-door-neighbor.
her mouth damn near waters at the sight, your folds glistening in slick, simply because she talks to you nice. abby eats that shit up, making sure the neighborhood knows she does this to you.
“let me in, baby.” she says, as her fingers start pumping in and out of your pussy, the squelching noise driving her batshit crazy. she’s on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “pussy’s talkin’ to me, isn’t she?” she says, inserting another finger inside of you.
“shitttt, abby, don’t talk like that.” you whimper, causing abby’s pace to speed up when she hits that sweet spot inside of you, causing your moans to grow louder and louder.
“shh… gotta be quiet sweetheart, you just got here—you want the neighbors to know my name already?” she whispers against your skin, leaving messy kisses along your tits.
she’s forcing you to grind into her fingers, the show your giving alone making her boxers a soaked mess.
“p—please, abby…” you pant, your head spinning and baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
“i’ll give it to ya’ sweet girl, always so fuckin’ patient, yeah?” abby’s breath starts to hitch as you dig your nails into her back, her chest clad with a black sports bra.
“gonna… abby please, i’m so close—,” you manage to let out, and abby takes this as a signal to let you finish. she holds your body down, pumping at lightning speed, listening to your moans grow and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“c’mon sweetheart, all over my fingers.” your stomach snaps, and sudden flow rushes through your body and right onto abby’s digits. you were shaking, abby’s thick fingers leaving you in a trance, all of her handy work being put to use.
“jesus, abby. you do this to all your new neighbors?” you say, attempting to catch your breath.
“nah, just you honey.”
——
the night stretched on, filled with whispered laughs and stolen kisses, and for once, you were thankful for all the broken things that had brought her to your door.
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pprodsuga · 1 year ago
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i’m serious about you
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summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date
note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!
i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!
warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns
masterlist :)
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“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”
You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.
“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”
“Do you like this bakery?”
Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.
“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”
He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.
You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.
You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.
Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.
This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.
The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.
“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”
“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.
He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”
“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”
Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.
“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”
A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.
He panics.
“I must be special.”
Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.
“Yeah, you are.”
Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.
He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.
You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.
“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.
“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”
Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.
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rue-isabelle · 1 month ago
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Part 1 Part 3
Aphrodite of Formula 1, Part 2
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The Monaco paddock was buzzing, but not with the usual pre-race excitement. The drivers were all acting out of character, their girlfriends were growing increasingly frustrated, and the fans were having a field day tracking every move. The reason? Yn, as always, was oblivious to the chaos surrounding her.
---
Max and Kelly
Max leaned against a railing near the Mercedes garage, completely engrossed in conversation with Yn. She was telling him about the time she had to coordinate a last-minute team dinner for 30 people, her laughter filling the air as she recounted the chaos.
“You’re incredible,” Max said, shaking his head. “I can’t even organize my own breakfast without someone helping me.”
“It’s just practice,” Yn said modestly.
Kelly, meanwhile, stood outside the paddock, furiously scrolling through her phone. Max had promised to pick her up an hour ago, but there was no sign of him. She stormed into the paddock, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement, until she spotted him.
“Max!” she called sharply.
Max blinked, his attention snapping back to reality. “Kelly?”
“Yes, Kelly!” she spat. “The one you were supposed to pick up an hour ago?”
Yn’s smile faltered. “Oh no, Max, if you need to go—”
“No,” Max said quickly. “It’s fine. She doesn't matter as much as she thinks she does.” He turned back to Yn. “So, you were saying about the dinner?”
Kelly’s jaw dropped. “You’re seriously just going to ignore me?”
“I’ll catch up with you later. Go and be a mom for once,” Max said dismissively, earning an incredulous glare from Kelly as she stomped away.
---
Charles and Alexandra
Charles had been in a great mood all day. Why? Yn had laughed at his joke earlier, and the memory had been replaying in his mind ever since. When the day ended, he spotted Yn leaving the paddock and hurried to catch up with her.
“Yn! Do you need a ride?” he asked, his smile wide.
“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but I don’t want to trouble you,” Yn said.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Charles insisted, opening the passenger door of his car.
“Alright, thank you,” Yn said, climbing in.
Meanwhile, Alexandra stood in the paddock, waiting for Charles to take her back to their hotel. A mechanic approached her, not wanting to talk to her but having lost 'rock-paper-scissor' earlier against the others.
“He left,” the mechanic said awkwardly. “With Yn.”
Alexandra’s face turned red with fury. She let out a scream of frustration, startling everyone around her.
“Are you kidding me?!” she shouted. “What is wrong with all of you?! Why does he prefer this stupid bitch over me. I’m the one he should be fucking, not driving this slut home. Oh, she will pay!!”
Phones whipped out, capturing her meltdown as she stormed through the paddock, cursing under her breath.
By the time Alexandra returned to her hotel, videos of her tirade were all over the internet. Fans mocked her relentlessly, calling her a “gold digger” or "the wicked bitch is out again" and posting memes about her jealousy.
Charles, however, didn’t care. Yn had laughed at his joke earlier, and that was all that mattered.
---
Pierre and Kika
Pierre handed Yn a beautifully wrapped gift box, his smile warm. “I saw this and thought of you.”
Yn opened the box to find a limited-edition Hermès handbag. Her eyes widened. “Pierre, this is too much! I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can,” Pierre said. “You deserve it.”
Kika, meanwhile, had been plotting her next move. If Pierre thought a handbag was impressive, she’d go bigger.
The next day, Kika handed Yn a set of car keys.
“What’s this?” Yn asked, confused.
“A Lamborghini,” Kika said proudly. “It’s yours. Matte black, just like I imagined for you.”
Yn stared at the keys, speechless.
Before she could respond, Kika leaned in and kissed her on the lips, letting her tongueget a taste of Yn's sweet mouth. “I hope you like it,” she said with a wink.
Pierre watched the scene unfold, his jaw tightening. “A Lamborghini?” he muttered under his breath.
---
George and Carmen
Yn joined George and Carmen for a rare day off, excited for a relaxed shopping trip. But George had other plans.
As they browsed a boutique, George held up a sleek, form-fitting dress. “Yn, you should try this.”
Yn blinked. “Me? That’s not really my style.”
“It is now,” George said firmly. “You shouldn’t hide your beauty.”
Carmen nodded approvingly. “That’s so thoughtful, George. Always looking out for her.”
Yn reluctantly tried on the dress, emerging from the fitting room. George stepped closer, adjusting the fabric on her chest. He gave her perfect tit's a squeeze, making it look like he was adjusting the area.
“Perfect,” he said softly. His heart was hammering, his hands not wanting to leave her breast. It was only then that he noticed that Yn wasn't wearing a bra. Her peaky nipples winked at him. He softly stroked over them with his thumbs, before catching himself.
Yn laughed. “You’re too much.” She didn't notice anything, to engrossed in her conversation with Carmen.
Carmen, obviously to everything that George just did, smiled, thinking to herself how sweet George was to look out for her pseudo-sister.
---
Oscar and Lily
Oscar was supposed to be taking photos for Lily’s social media, but his camera seemed to have a mind of its own. Every few minutes, it drifted toward Yn, who was seated nearby, absorbed in her work.
“Oscar,” Lily said, tapping her foot. “Hello? I’m over here.”
“Right,” Oscar mumbled, snapping a quick photo of Lily before turning his camera back to Yn.
Lily sighed but didn’t bother protesting. “You’ve got it bad,” she said, shaking her head.
Oscar grinned sheepishly. “She’s just… perfect.”
---
Carlos and Rebecca
Carlos sat in the paddock, scrolling through his phone. His screen was filled with photos of Yn, her smile lighting up every shot. His panst started feeling tighter, his dick fighting to break free from his trousers.
He didn’t notice Rebecca walking up behind him until she leaned over his shoulder.
“Seriously?” Rebecca said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just popp a boner in public because of a fucking picture?”
Carlos nearly dropped his phone. “I wasn’t—”. He quickly brought his hands in front of his trousers. However, when he made contact with his dick, he couldn't help imagine Yn on her knees for him, making him moan rather loud.
Rebecca just scoffed at him, feeling disgusted that he acted like that towards Yn in public. She looked him up and down, before muttering "Pathetic Pussy" so only Carlos could hear, and left.
That evening, Rebecca found Yn in her hotel room, exhausted. “You need to take better care of yourself, my love,” Rebecca said gently, brushing Yn hair away from her face.
Yn tried to protest, but Rebecca guided her to the bed and began massaging her shoulders. “You’re too kind,” Yn mumbled, her eyes drooping. Slowly, Rebecca brought her hands lower and lower towards her ass, giving it a squeeze and a soft pad, so Yn would stand up.
Rebecca tucked her in, smoothing the blanket over her. “Goodnight,” she whispered, climbing into bed and wrapping her arms around Yn as the big spoon.
Yn, half-asleep, murmured, “Thank you.”
Rebecca smiled. “Anything for you.” Afterwards, while Yn was asleep, he put one hand on Yn book, playing with it. At the same time, she was sucking a hickey carefully on her neck, licking and kissing her neck afterwards.
---
Despite the chaos, Yn remained blissfully unaware of the war raging around her. For her, it was just another busy race weekend. For everyone else, it was a battle to win her heart, no matter the cost.
@omgsuperstarg
@seonghwaexile
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zepskies · 1 month ago
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'Twas the Night...
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean listens, sometimes when you least expect it. This year, Christmas begins to become something new for both of you.    
AN: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa gift for @eldritchlibertine! The idea is based on this request from @whichwitchwanda (a story prompted from the header image).
Word Count: 2.4K
Tags/Warnings: Fluff and more fluff! Christmas feels. ❤️
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A door burst open, and your eyes raised from the page. You nearly dropped your book into your lap when you saw it—the wide, bristled top of an evergreen tree trying to shove its way through the door of the bunker.
Or rather, it only seemed that way.
All the way up at the top of the rod iron staircase, grumbled cursing and muttering and arguing filtered down to you in the common room, where you were leaning back in your seat with an old copy of Wuthering Heights. You sat up, an incredulous smirk beginning to curve your lips.
“Dean, it’s not gonna fit.” That was Sam, obviously. You’d recognize his testy bitching anywhere.
“You kiddin’ me? All that work I spent sawing this thing outta the ground, I’m gonna damn well make it fit. Come on, put your big boy pants on.”
The equally familiar gruff, grousing tone of your man’s voice almost made you snort. You set down the book on the table and debated whether you were going to get up and try to help, or let them hash it out. You were surprised they hadn’t called out for you yet.
After a few more seconds of listening to their frustrated huffing and puffing, you shook your head and got up. You reached the top of the stairs, and their sounds of irritated, breathless struggle became even clearer.
“Dean,” Sam protested.
“Shut up. I’ve almost got it…”
“You’re gonna break the damn frame—”
“Something tells me you didn’t get this thing at Home Depot,” you remarked.
There was a pause, and Dean called your name questioningly. He also sounded a bit embarrassed.
“Yep, I’m here, Chevy Chase,” you said, laughing as you grabbed the branches that were stuck in the doorway. You bent them at the angle the guys needed to get the whole thing inside, and all too quickly you had to step out of the way as Sam and Dean broke through the doorway with the rest of the tree.
Sam caught himself on the wall, while Dean threw a hand out to grasp at the railing of the stairs. You grabbed Dean’s arm to help steady him. Once he had his feet planted, he slung an arm around your waist and looked down on you with a satisfied smile—one that he then aimed at Sam.
“See? Told you it would fit.”
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“Where did you even get this thing?” you asked. You eyed Dean in curiosity, even as you were helping him stream the lights around this seven-foot monstrosity. You’d also taken great delight in putting on some holiday music. Now, Frank Sinatra’s “White Christmas” was playing from a Bluetooth speaker on the War Room table.
Dean shot you a distracted smile as he worked in concentration, bringing a string of lights around the part of the tree that was closest to the wall. He handed off the other end to you, and you wrapped the line of multicolored lights around.
“Eh, there’s a nice bit of forest a few miles out of town,” he said. Your brows raised high. You’d suspected, of course, but you still shook your head with a smile.  
“You know you need a permit for that, right?” you said.
“I tried to tell him,” said Sam. He was on his way up the stairs, heading out back to the car to get the box of ornaments he and Dean bought at Walmart this morning along with the pretty multicolored lights, all while you were still sleeping.
Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, but just kept focused on his task. Once he started something, he had to finish it, you noticed. And when he got into something, he was Mr. DIY, putting in his all. You liked watching the crunch between his brows, the set of his lips, the sureness of his hands while he mentally calculated what they were going to accomplish next.
Most of all, you liked the look of self-satisfaction when he was done, and happy with his finished product. It didn’t matter if he was tuning up the Impala, making a home-cooked meal for the three of you, or decorating a wild tree. That face was the same. 
“Illegally obtained tree aside,” you said, not bothering to temper your smile, “I thought you guys didn’t really celebrate Christmas. Or any holidays, for that matter.”
Dean gave you a small grin, though again, he seemed a little embarrassed. He freed one of his hands to scratch at the back of his head.
“Yeah, well…weren’t you the one who was talking about the Christmases you had growing up?” he said.
You blinked, your mouth gently falling open in surprise. That had been a couple weeks ago, when the first snow of December began to fall over Lebanon. Late that night, after settling into bed together, you’d turned towards him in his arms. Maybe it was the turn of the season making you nostalgic, but somehow the conversation drifted into you making a confession, about what you missed the most about your family.
Your parents had passed on, and your sister was distant. She had her own family and her own life, and she wanted to keep it far away from the things you hunted. You couldn’t blame her, even if the thought of her always pierced your heart.
Beyond than that, what you missed was the house where you grew up, small but cozy and lived in. You missed the smell of pine and cinnamon that filled the living room every day of December. You missed the nights you and your sister curled up by the fire late at night playing imaginary games, long after your parents’ had put you guys to bed. You missed your mother’s cooking, and helping her bake molasses cookies on Christmas Eve.
You missed togetherness, the feeling of warmth and safety.
You tilted your head at Dean.
“Yeah, but…” you trailed, not willing to finish the thought as another suspicion grew in your mind.
“Just thought we could do some of that this year for you, that’s all,” he said. And he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. His hands were busy untangling some lights. “Matter of fact, we could all use the time off.”
You couldn’t help but pause. Your breathing shallowed, and no matter how much you fought it, tears stung in your eyes. You bit your lip to try and hold it all at bay. When Dean glanced up at you, he had to do a double take. It made you smile, despite your slightly blurring vision.
“Hey, what—”
You dropped your end of the lights and went to him. You raised up on your toes so you could wrap your arms around his neck in a warm hug. Dean uttered a surprised huff, but his arms came around your waist and gathered you closer. He soon realized he was still holding onto the tangle of lights, and he hung them on a nearby tree branch for now. His smile overtook his surprise and crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“I love you. You know that right?” Your voice was muffled in his neck, but he heard you well enough. He chuckled and slipped a soothing hand up and down your back.
“I do know, actually,” he said, his voice warm and teasing.
A giggle escaped you. You tugged on his short hair in retaliation, making him chuckle.
“Hey,” he warned, but it had heat of a different kind. His hand began venturing down to your ass, but before he could do some retaliating of his own, a door swung open and Sam came down the stairs hefting a couple different boxes of ornaments.
He raised a brow, though he smiled at the way you and his brother were entwined. You half pulled away to nod at Sam, sniffling at quickly wiping at your face. Dean dried some of the wetness from the corner of your eye with a curled finger. You glanced up at him and couldn’t help blushing, smiling, despite your embarrassment.
Dean still had an arm wrapped around your waist as you peered over at the boxes Sam set down near the tree. One of them caught your attention and made your eyes widen.
“Oh my God. They’re Scooby Doo themed!”
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The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the tree with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby echoing throughout the common room. After you made a trip to the grocery store, soon the smell of cinnamon, brown sugar and rich molasses joined the scent of pine throughout the entire bunker.
It was a Christmas Eve well spent. The night was filled with a rewatch marathon of Home Alone and Christmas Vacation. You agreed to Dean throwing in Elf into the mix, as long as you got to watch Love Actually, and The Holiday with Jude Law. Dean complained more than Sam about your girly chick-flicks, but he became just as invested in Colin Firth pouring his heart out in mangled Portuguese to Aurelia as you were, if less teary-eyed.
When The Holiday came around though, he was half asleep as he laid sprawled across your lap and the couch. Your nails gently massaging his scalp nearly did him in, along with Sam’s heavy-ass pour of eggnog. It was tradition, at this point.
By the end of the movie marathon, you were the one snoozing from your corner of the couch, your hand still in Dean’s hair.
He carried you to bed that night, your eyelids heavy as you teetered back and forth between slumber and the waking world. At least you were already in your pajamas. All he had to do was tuck you under the sheets on your side of the bed, then slip in behind you afterwards.
His arm draped around your waist, and you curled towards him, half on instinct as you let out a deep breath. Dean smiled as you settled against his chest. Your soft snores soon greeted his ears. Only then did he let himself rest…
Just not for long.
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You woke earlier than you planned to in the morning, mainly because your man pillow was no longer beside you. You reached out a hand and found Dean’s side of the bed empty and cold, the covers pulled back. With a frown, you opened bleary eyes and checked your phone. It was around the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m.
What the hell was Dean doing up at the crack of dawn?
Unless… You paused as your memory served you a grim reminder. Unless he’d had a rough night, kept up by memories and dreams he didn’t always want to talk to you about. It wouldn’t be the first time he came back to bed after a few hours with the heady smell of bourbon on him.
You got up with a sigh, rolling your neck as you did so. You just wanted to check on him. Maybe you could even persuade him to come back to bed.
You threw on a sweater over your pajamas and some fluffy slippers Sam bought you for your birthday—all to shield you from the bunker’s chilly air and ice-cold floors. You’d have to remind Dean to check on the heater.
You padded out of the bedroom and down the long hall…and became distracted by the Christmas tree in the common room. It really was beautiful all lit up. The lights softly flashed in green, red, purple, and gold. Traditional red and gold ornaments hung beside the Scooby Doo themed ones, with Fred and Daphne front and center, along with the rest of the gang scattered throughout.
And then you found Dean.
“Damn it…friggin’ piece of shit ribbon…” 
Dean’s muttering drew your attention to his hunched figure kneeling at the base of the tree. Your head tilted in wonder as your face broke out into a smile. What the hell is he doing? You tried to be light on your feet as you approached him from behind. Peering over his shoulder, you could almost see what he was trying do with some shiny red wrapping paper and a big golden bow.
Your heart swelled. Had he really gotten you and Sam something for Christmas too? He didn’t need to get you anything…
Dean’s hunter reflexes must’ve been tingling though, because suddenly he sat up straighter and looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw you standing there in your pajamas, arms crossed over your robe.
He actually jolted, muttering a curse as he tried to cover up what he was doing.
“What’cha doin’, babe?” you asked. Your eyes gleamed with amusement.
Dean tried to get up, but his foot slipped on a stray ribbon. He careened back onto his ass and knocked into the tree. Not only did its branches poke into his face and arm, making him wince, but he managed to displace a couple of ornaments, sending them tumbling to the floor by his hand. He grunted and raised up onto his forearms. For the pièce de résistance, that lovely golden bow landed right in his lap.
With raised brows, you took in the sight of your man—all bedraggled and looking sheepish (and adorable) as hell. Your hand went up to cover your mouth, but you were unable to quiet the giggle that bubbled up and escaped your lips.
Dean cleared his throat. “Hey.”
You glanced down at the bow, almost perfectly placed in his lap.
“Hey,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile.
You lowered down to kneel in front of him, and you took his face in your gentle hands before you leaned in for a sweet, sensuous kiss. Dean breathed into it. Your eyes shut along with his as you savored the moment, and him.
When you parted, your smile remained as you fingered the shiny edge of the bow. Dean began to smirk as well, despite how warm his face had gotten. His big hands found their way to your hips, welcoming you when you took a comfortable seat over his thighs.
You whispered against his lips, “I already know which present I’m gonna unwrap first.” 
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AN: Lol there we go, a cheeky ending for you! Let me know if you liked this! ❤️💚
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muniimyg · 2 months ago
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𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
series m.list // taglist
note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)
EDIT: mochi < injeolmi
//
as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one hand—all he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.
he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. 
his smile drops instantly.
“hey,” yoongi’s voice softens, concern etching into his features. “___, what happened? w-why are you crying?”
you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in. 
“i don’t even really want pickles and peanut butter,” you admit. “i just… it’s… this isn’t about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.” 
yoongi’s brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt. 
“okay, then what is it about?” his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"
you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability. 
“i just…” you take another breath, steadying yourself. “i didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.”
yoongi’s eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.
“wait—you could’ve just asked me to come over. i would’ve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?”
a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms. 
“yeah. we’re friends, yoongi, but we’re not friends.” you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. “we’re not close like that. i guess i’m just freaking out because as much as i want this—fuck, i want this so bad… i’m upset that i’m having a baby with someone i can’t even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?”
yoongi’s heart clenches. 
he’s struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 
“i get it,” he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. “can i come in? let’s talk about this please.”
you nod and move aside for him. 
yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.
he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in. 
when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a second—confusion prickles at the back of his mind. 
why aren’t we sitting in the living room? he wonders. 
he’s never been inside your bedroom before. 
… but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.
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the room feels more intimate than he expected.
the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;
“s-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. i’m more comfortable in here. is that okay?” 
yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit. 
then, you both settle on the bed.
the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance they’ve been struggling to cross.
“are you regretting this?” you ask, voice quiet and afraid. 
yoongi shakes his head instantly. 
“no. i’m not,” he answers. “are you?”
you also shake your head. 
“no… but, i do wish i thought it through more.” 
he titls his head. “specifically about what? about me?”
you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you two…
and it’s hard.
it’s difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.
friends. 
until sometimes, when you two are alone.. it’s friends. 
“let’s be honest,” yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. “we’ve always had this weird… in-between thing. but if you need me, you don’t have to make excuses. i’m already here, aren't i? and i’m committed to the baby—our baby. to you, even… so, tell me where your headspace is at. i’ll match it. i’ll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.”
you look at him, eyes searching his for something… then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.
“we’re about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that… i care about you. always have. so, please don’t think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.”
you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod. 
“okay.” 
and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between them—something real and raw and hopeful.
you and yoongi have never been close. 
there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongi’s help.
no. 
there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the least—if anything; considering the current happenings—maybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends. 
everyone in the friendgroup is. 
you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each other’s backs when needed—but that’s it. 
or at least it should be.
again, until you’re alone together... then, it’s different. 
there’s this undercurrent.
something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. it’s the way he leans in when he’s talking to you. it’s the subtle touches he probably doesn’t think about… all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing… but you know what is it. you know who he is. 
and that’s what’s confusing. 
in the midst of this in-between—you don’t know how to word what he makes you feel. 
safe?
nervous?
loved?
and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you are—or what you aren’t—hasn’t changed at all. 
you’re still friends.
friends. 
“can we talk about this?” you speak out. “like first… what are we?”
yoongi’s eyes widen. 
he wasn’t ready for this question, but he also doesn’t hate it. he’s been wanting to know too. he’s been thinking about it too. 
“what do you want us to be?” 
you gulp, not knowing if he’ll like the answer you’re about to give. 
“friends,” you tell him. “is that ridiculous?”
yoongi shrugs. “only if you make it to be.”
“it’s just… i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didn’t even save your number in my phone until last year. we’ve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi… also, i don’t know your favourite colour. i don’t know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobi’s… yours is in february, right?”
“march.”
you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss. 
“fuck—s-see what i mean?” you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. “i’m sorry. we’ve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didn’t think this through—”
“it’s fine,” yoongi says, patting your back. “we’re not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. don’t act like you don’t just because you’re scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes out—you’re stuck with me for life. i mean, it’s our baby.”
your lips curve into a small smile. 
“is our baby gonna have two cribs?” you blurt. “hyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seats—”
“one then,” yoongi simplifies it for you. “move in with me or i move in with you.”
you blink at him. 
“...hear me out,” yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if he’s trying to make sure every word sticks. “we already spend so much time together—in our friendgroup setting at least… and i know it won’t be perfect. we’ll annoy each other, i’m sure, but it’ll be easier. for both of us. we won’t have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.”
you swallow. 
the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture he’s painting—one home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying. 
“yoongi…” you start, your voice wavering. “it’s not just about convenience. moving in together means… a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?”
he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you. 
“i get that,” he says. “but we’ve already made things complicated, haven’t we?” his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. “this way, at least, we’ll be complicated together. and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out, for the baby’s sake. we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to at least try.”
you want to say yes.
to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen. 
“i don’t know,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. “it’s a big step… and i’m scared of what it could mean… for us.”
yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 
“i’m scared too,” he admits softly. “but i’d rather try and fail than not try at all. just… think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.”
you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. 
“hahaha… okay. yeah, i’ll think about it,” you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"
yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues. 
“okay, if we’re doing this, I want to do it right,” he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. “since we're confessing.. truth be told, i’ve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i don’t want to be the dad who just shows up when it’s convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing… i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loop—in it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if it’s something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.” 
you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way he’s looking at you—it’s like he’s already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you don’t.
“and i'm serious about appointments,” yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “i want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority… i’m gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like we’re doing this together.”
a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment. 
“you really mean that,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. “yoongi…”
“of course, i do.” he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. “we might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybe…” he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “maybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.”
a beat.
“shit, do we have to talk about that now?”
he laughs. 
“no,” he shrugs. “i’m not in a rush. i’m cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.”
you roll your eyes and he chuckles.
then, you’re silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability he’s showing, the way he’s extending himself for both you and the baby. 
“okay,” you finally say. “i’ll call more. i’ll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.”
yoongi snickers at you. “... and when we’re finally living together… we’ll figure out a routine that works for both of us. we’ll make it as easy as possible… for all three of us.”
before you know it, you launch yourself at him.
you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like he’s anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.
when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest. 
“can you… stay the night?” you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. “i guess that’s what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.”
yoongi snorts at you. 
“i knew it.”
he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though he’s teasing you, there’s something so reassuring in the way he says it. 
“i'm already in my pajamas... i’ll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.”
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as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, and…
a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours. 
his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him. 
it’s for him. 
you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.
what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?
it tugs.
it skips a beat.
it races.
it falls for you a little more.
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when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.
neither of you knows quite how to lie together. 
you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips. 
“ugh,” you mumble, “my back hurts.”
yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up. 
“here, let me help,” he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.
you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.
just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly. 
“yoongi?”
“mhmm?
“injeolmi...” you whisper.
yoongi stirs, confused. 
“huh?” he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. “are you craving injeolmi? i’ll get you some tomorrow–”
you smile sleepily, eyes already closed. 
“no.. our baby looks like injeolmi,” you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. “the ultrasound… injeolmi. let’s call our baby injeolmi for now.”
yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips. 
“injeolmi,” he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “okay. baby injeolmi it is.”
wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;
baby injeolmi, you are so loved.
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pucksandpower · 9 months ago
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April Fools?
Lando Norris x Hamilton!Reader
Summary: maybe telling your father the big news on April Fools’ Day was not the best idea
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Lewis is lounging in his driver’s room, reviewing data from the last practice session, when there’s a tentative knock at the door.
“Come in,” he calls out, not looking up from his computer screen.
The door creaks open slowly and Lewis glances over to see you and your boyfriend shuffling awkwardly into the room, neither of you making eye contact with him.
“What’s this then?” Lewis says with an amused chuckle at your strange behavior. “You two look like you’re about to face a firing squad.”
You and Lando exchange a nervous glance but remain silent, shifting your weight uneasily.
Lewis sets down his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Well, out with it. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”
You open your mouth but no words come out. You look pleadingly at Lando who seems equally incapable of speech, his lips moving soundlessly.
“I haven’t got all day here,” Lewis raises an eyebrow. “One of you needs to start talking.”
You take a steadying breath and then the words come tumbling out in a rush.
“I’m pregnant!”
There’s a beat of silence as Lewis processes what you’ve said. Then he lets out a loud laugh, slapping his knee in amusement.
“Nice one! You two really had me going for a minute there. Very funny prank!”
Lando finally finds his voice, though it comes out as more of a terrified squeak. “She’s … she’s not joking. Y/N is pregnant. With my … with my baby.”
Lewis just keeps laughing so hard that tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. “Oh come off it, you can drop the act now. I’m not falling for silly April Fools’ pranks!”
“Is … is it April Fools’ Day?” You ask hesitantly, a crease forming between your brows. “I didn’t even realize what day it was ...”
Lewis’ laughter slowly trails off as the serious expressions on your and Lando’s faces register. His eyes narrow as he looks between the two of you.
“You’re … you’re actually pregnant?” He asks slowly, needing confirmation one last time. “With Lando’s …”
Lando gulps audibly and gives the smallest of nods. “Y-yes sir.”
A rushing sound fills Lewis’ ears as the reality slams into him. His little girl, his baby, is having a baby of her own. With a driver no less — one of his competitors!
The room starts spinning dangerously.
“You …” Lewis growls, rounding on Lando with a look that could incinerate him on the spot. “You got my daughter pregnant?”
“I … I …” Lando squeaks, taking an unconscious step back.
“Start running,” Lewis rumbles in a tone of deadly calm. “You’ve got three seconds.”
Lando’s eyes widen in terror and he immediately turns to bolt out the door.
“One …” Lewis counts, rising to his feet with jerky movements.
“I’m too young to die!” Lando wails, throwing the door open and fleeing at a sprint down the hallway.
“Two …” Lewis continues menacingly, stalking after him with murder in his eyes.
“Dad, wait!” You cry out in a panic, but it’s too late.
“Three!” Lewis roars, now fully giving chase after a petrified Lando.
He tears down the corridor and out into the paddock area, drawing confused stares from crew members and team personnel.
“I’m too young to be a grandpa!” Lewis bellows at the top of his lungs, rapidly closing the gap on the fleeing Lando.
You hurry after them, catching up just as Lando races past a very confused group of mechanics, Lewis in hot pursuit.
“Don’t let him hurt me!” Lando screams as he dodges around equipment boxes.
The commotion has drawn the attention of the entire paddock by now. Cameras are out and clicking furiously as the most famous driver on the grid chases his terrified competitor in circles.
Finally, Lando trips over a stray tire and goes sprawling to the ground. Lewis is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt front and hauling him up until they are nose to nose.
“Please … please don’t kill me,” Lando whimpers pathetically.
Lewis glares at the younger man for a long moment before his expression softens just a fraction. “I’ll let you live. On one condition.”
Lando nods frantically in agreement before Lewis has even named the condition.
“The baby gets my name. You two are naming it after me. No arguments.”
For a brief second, relief flashes across Lando’s face. Then his eyes go wide again in fear. “Ah well … you see … the thing is ...”
“Spit it out!” Lewis growls.
“Y/N … she wants to name the baby Nico. After Nico Rosberg.”
A muscle twitches dangerously in Lewis’ jaw and he drops Lando back to the ground in a heap.
“Oh, for fu-”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Lando’s desperate shrieks once again fill the air, echoing across the paddock. “Lewis, please, have mercy!”
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luveline · 4 months ago
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Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 
“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 
“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 
“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 
“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”
You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 
“But how does she know?”
“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 
“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 
You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 
“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 
You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 
“It’s a secret.” 
“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 
“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 
Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 
“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 
You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 
Jack watches you. 
“Dad got really mad.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 
Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 
“Want a hug?” you whisper. 
Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 
This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  
“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 
You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 
“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 
“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 
“Thanks, Jack.” 
He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 
“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”
“What?” 
“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 
“Mom says everything is hard now.” 
You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”
“You’re leaving?” 
“Sorry, Jack.” 
Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 
“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.
“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 
“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.
“I better go.”
“Honey, what’s really going on?”
“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”
You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 
You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 
“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 
It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 
Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 
Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 
“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 
He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 
Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 
“I have something to tell you,” he says. 
You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 
“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 
You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 
“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 
You stare. 
Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 
“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 
“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 
“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 
What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 
You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 
“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 
You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 
“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 
“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 
“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 
“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”
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