#by the way. before I go back to sleep and forget.

[cream1111]

🍎 phone call. . .ᐟᅟ

⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀caleb/mc!reader, 1.6k, incest, somno, dubcon, mutual masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping. @rukii-afterdark , order up! ! part 1

ring ring . . .

you jolt up, eyes popping open before they settle onto your phone, with a groan you pull it closer. squinting  your  sleepy  eyes  at  the  bright  screen, you see the caller's name. caleb. you sigh, it's  1am,  much  later  than  he  usually  calls. you answer and let the phone fall next to your head.

“gege,  why  are  you  calling  so  late?”  you  whine, fighting back a yawn.

“aw,  did  i  wake  you? you sound like you're half asleep”  caleb  sounds teasing but sympathetic, and  slightly  out  of  breath...  maybe  he's  settling  into  bed  himself.

“yeah  a  bit,"  you groan a bit, your annoyed tone remaining playful "but  it's  ok…  what's  up?”  you  ask,  closing  your  eyes,  and  snuggling  back  into  your  bed.  letting  your  phone  rest  on  the  pillow  next  to  your head. 

“it's nothing serious,  i just missed  you,  l⎯”  his  breath  hitches. you  peek  your  eyes  open and  glance  at  your  phone, wondering if the call dropped. you don't have the volume very high, so you're not sure. you  pull  it  closer,  it looks like the call is still going. you press it against your ear.  it's not entirely silent, there's  a  shuffling  sound,  but it's  faint.

“are  you  ok?”  you  murmur,  confused. the shuffling seems to stop, but it's hard to tell under the barely audible droning static his mic is picking up. you let your eyes drift shut again.

“sorry,  yeah,  just,  long  day.”  he  replies  quickly,  his  voice  sounding  more  strained.  “what  about  you?  miss  me?” 

“of  course,  everyday,  you  know  that.” you'd roll your eyes if they weren't already closed. as much as you love talking to caleb, you really are tired. "listen, it's late⎯"

"i know, pipsqueak. i'm sorry for waking you. i just wanted to hear your voice." there's a tinge of urgency to his voice. you would've hurried to hang up if you didn't notice it. it makes you feel a bit guilty. he pauses, you wait to see if he'll say more. "how about this, how about you just go back to sleep but keep me on call. hearing your sleepy breathing always puts me at ease"

is that all?

"you're so cheesy," you tease. then you hum, pretending to think about it. but you're just as bad as he is, you can't ever say no to him. "yeah, fine, but i'm really going to bed, you better not keep talking to me. i won't even answer, i'll just snore"

he let's out a soft chuckle. "that's fine, snore all you like" he replies. "sleep well" he whispers, honey sweet. he's always been so sweet with you.

"goodnight" you mumble, already feeling the drowsiness washing over you. you try to quell the small excitement that caleb even wants to do something so lovey dovey with you. it warms your heart a bit, not that you'd admit it out loud. even though it's not that much of a leap, you've fallen asleep together so many times, something about it feels a little more intimate. that he misses you enough to try and pretend you're both sharing a bed. it makes it easier to pretend he is here, he's home and he's with you, keeping you warm.

your breathing evens out, you almost forget you're on the phone.

. . .

through your sleep you hear something, softly, distant. you focus, waking just a bit. you're alone. but you remember you fell asleep on the phone with caleb. is he talking? something woke you, you're pretty sure. you rouse yourself, focusing, listening.

nothing. it might've been in your dream. though you figure you'll scold him anyways, tell him to keep quiet or you'll mute him. but then you hear it again, clearer now.

"h-hah..."

no way. there's no way, is he⎯

"ah⎯ fuck"

you freeze. a blush heating up your face. you shift closer, turning up the volume as quietly as you can. just to be sure. you hear the sound of something moving, fast, wet. he's...

he's jacking off. it sounds so obvious now. the soft panting, the rhythmic sound of his hand on his well lubricated cock. a heat surrounds you, you feel like you're suffocating at the implication. there's also a gnawing unease, that you're misinterpreting this and there's some reasonable explanation that you are blind to. maybe you're just hearing what you want to hear.

you've always wanted him, more than a sister should. you rationalize it sometimes, you're not siblings, not really. it's not hard to want him, it seems just about every girl at his school would agree with you. but the shame helps you weigh those thoughts down, tuck them away in a deep corner of your mind. your relationship is unconventional, but you're just close, you just love each other, would do anything for each other, there's nothing wrong with it. you've held onto this justification for a long time.

but maybe it's a lot simpler than that.

you're not entirely sure about what's happening, if he's doing what you think he's doing. but… it couldn't hurt to pretend.

your rationalizations fade, you push the shame to the side, and you dip your fingers, along your chest, slowly, savoring the feeling. focusing on the panting, the faint sound of his hand.

your fingers dance along your skin, you're teasing yourself, until you slip them past your pajamas, over your panties. you palm yourself, rubbing, imagining the sweet friction was against him, anywhere — his hand, his thigh, his face. you realize, rather quickly, a wet spot has already formed, and you flush, feeling embarrassed with yourself.

did just the thought of him, the sound of him, do this to you?

when did you become so dirty.

you can't help the soft noise that leaves your lips at your discovery, and you realize suddenly that caleb quiets on the other the line.

you pause as well. holding your breath. for a second you can't hear anything. does he think you're awake? does he think you're doing the same thing? does he want to end the call?

"f-fuck..." he moans out, the sounds from before continue, faster, more enthusiastic. you're not sure what he thinks, but whatever it is, he's keeping it to himself.

the idea of him getting more excited, it lights a fire in you. you rub yourself faster. you try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't help the huffs and sighs that leave your lips. it's not that obvious, you think. but caleb seems to get more eager with every tiny sound you make. it's good incentive.

you can't help but think about the situation, both of you touching yourselves while on the phone, not acknowledging it, leaving room for plausible deniability. the idea that you're reading this wrong sends a shiver down your spine.

“ngh.. please” he whispers, barely there. and you don’t know what he’s begging for but you want to give it to him. you rub harder, then sigh in frustration. it's not enough. you flip, shifting onto your stomach, trying your hardest to stay quiet. you place a pillow between your legs, and waste no time before grinding against it.

you huff, loving the feeling. even if you're misunderstanding this, you like pretending. that it was his warm body heating you up, making you feel good. with your phone placed next to your ear, you imagine he was there, groaning behind you, just out of sight, touching himself for you.

you let out a whimper at the thought, a little louder. his response is immediate, a low groan. to your surprise, he speaks.

"you⎯ mm... you must be having a nice dream, pipsqueak."

you bite your lip and keep still at his words. does he want you to respond? does he really think you're still sleeping? you don't want to acknowledge it. you continue, quieter, a little shy. you don't want the illusion shattered. grinding your hips into the mattress, desperate.

you imagine his body, and it's not hard. you've memorized the feeling of his frame against yours. he's pressing into you, in time with his groans, you move at the same pace, whimpering when you buck back against the empty air. but you pull yourself back into your fantasy, he's there, his soft sounds are for you, only you.

"fuck," he hisses out, seeming to bite back the sound.

it's becoming too much, your mind is getting so cloudy, reason and shame seem like distant concepts. in this moment, it’s just the pleasure between you two, his touch, his kiss, his body, him.

"i'm— i'm gonna-" his whispers spur you over the edge.

you can barely hear his grunts as he releases with you. your mind goes blank. you don't bother with being quiet, couldn't if you wanted to. you rut helplessly, greedily, panting and whimpering all the while. as satisfaction washing over you. he hums, before letting out a satisfied sigh himself, and you smile sleepily into your pillow.

but as your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, and your face cools down, you're left with a pit in your stomach. the room feels colder, the call is quiet, the guilt comes rushing back all at once with nothing to keep it at bay. did you two really just do that? were you really that reckless?

what are you going to do in the morning?

"shit, i made a mess." he mumbles, but he doesn't sound too upset about it. in fact he sounds a little smug. you don't reply, but it calms you a bit, brings you comfort. a vague acknowledgement at this new game you two are playing. with all it's plausible deniability. you decide you'll follow his lead.

so when he yawns, you let the sound soothe you, you let sleep surround you. you leave your shame to him. he's always been the source, he can shoulder it for you.

it's only fair anyways, you were just sleeping, and he's the one who called you.

he made the mess, he can decide if he wants to clean it up.

[fear-is-truth]

CHO SANG-WOO (조상우)

₊‧꒰ warnings ꒱ ‧₊˚ soft dom!sang-woo ۶ৎ age gap ۶ৎ s1 spoilers ۶ৎ nsfw 18+ . . . headcanons ˚₊˙⋆ ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊. ˚₊‧꒰ note ꒱ ‧ i was trying to be realistic so…

PRE-GAME

۫ ꣑ৎ he takes you to meet his mother early on—this is huge, considering sang-woo is a private person, and his mother is the only family he has. so if you meet her, it means he sees a future with you. she adores you, treating you like the daughter she never had.

۫ ꣑ৎ your parents simply love him. they can’t believe their child is dating a graduate from seoul national university. it doesn’t even matter that he’s a few years older than you—they brag about him constantly. “he’s a genius,” they tell their friends. “successful, hardworking. polite, too.”

۫ ꣑ৎ if you don’t like him smoking, he promises to cut back. never smokes in your presence, doesn’t lets the scent cling to his clothes when he comes home to you. he’s careful about it, rinsing his mouth before kissing you. if you catch him sneaking a cigarette on a particularly bad day, he sighs and stubs it out before you even have to say anything.

۫ ꣑ৎ sang-woo thrives on intellectual conversations, especially enjoys debating with you, because he finds your mind fascinating.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s a perfectionist in every aspect of his life, including your relationship. sang-woo holds himself to an impossibly high standard, and sometimes, that extends to you—he doesn’t mean to be critical, but he has expectations, and when they aren’t met, he gets frustrated. he learns, over time, to be gentler with you, to let go of the idea that everything needs to be perfect.

۫ ꣑ৎ chronic insomniac. but if you’re beside him, if your hand is resting on his chest or your leg is tangled with his, he sleeps a little easier. on nights when sleep won’t come, he watches you instead.

۫ ꣑ৎ occasionally gifts you with expensive jewellery, but nothing gaudy. real gold and diamonds—elegant in their simplicity. he prefers to see you in things with longevity that won’t lose their value. doubles as an investment piece, not just accessories.

۫ ꣑ৎ no matter how busy he is, sang-woo never forgets important dates. your birthday, your anniversary, even the day you first met. he never brings it up in advance, but he always has something special planned.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s disciplined, wakes up at the same time every day, drinks his coffee black, works for hours without rest. but for you, he bends—just a little. if you want to sleep in, he lets you, only sighing fondly when you roll over and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his back. “five more minutes,” you moan, and against his better judgment, he stays.

۫ ꣑ৎ not outwardly possessive, but he is a bit controlling. he won’t tell straight up dictact who you can and can’t see, but he will casually criticise them if he thinks they’re a bad influence. he won’t demand your location either, but will insist that you check in with him, just so he “knows you’re safe.”

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s very reliable (until he isn’t) at first, he’s the perfect lover. calls when he says he will, never forgets your birthday or anniversary, handles things efficiently. but as his debts mounts and pressure builds, there’s a certain tightness in his jaw when money is mentioned. he won’t talk about it. he won’t let you in.

POST-DEBT

۫ ꣑ৎ not emotionally available, prefers to keep things bottled up. when sang-woo is stressed, he withdraws into himself.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s haunted; the investment failure eats him alive. gradually becomes distant, distracted, and hates when you ask questions about his finances. sang-woo lies—first to you, then to himself—because the truth is unbearable.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s frustrated at himself, but it manifests in other ways—he snaps over small things, withdraws from conversations, goes through more cigarettes per day.

۫ ꣑ৎ still tries to take care of you. he won’t let you pay for things, even if he can’t afford them. he’ll miss meals before letting you notice that money is tight. his pride is too big to let you see how bad things have gotten.

۫ ꣑ৎ he hates that you don’t leave; he wants to tell you to go. you should be with someone who isn’t drowning in debt and in constant fear of the police. but he can’t bring himself to say it. instead, he avoids you, keeps you at arm’s length.

۫ ꣑ৎ if you ever found out about his debt, the man would break down—nobody is supposed to know. not his mother, especially not you. if you find out and don’t leave? he’ll be both relieved and devastated, because you should leave. and yet you don’t.

۫ ꣑ৎ he debates leaving you “for your own good.” he genuinely thinks you’d be better off without him. if you catch onto his self-destructive tendencies and reassure him that you want to be here, he just stares at you like he doesn’t understand why.

NSFW

۫ ꣑ৎ not the type to outright deny you, but when he’s teasing, it’s in an excruciatingly nonchalant manner. he’s busy, he says, without even looking up from his laptop. too much work, too little time—yadda yadda. he makes you wait, makes you impatient, until he finally shuts his laptop and pins you to the mattress as if he hadn’t been ignoring you for the past hour.

۫ ꣑ৎ doesn’t experiment much, because he knows what works and doesn’t see a reason to change it. but if you want to try something, he won’t shut it down, either. he’ll simply raise an eyebrow, consider it for a second, and say, “if that’s what you want.”

۫ ꣑ৎ doesn’t talk much in bed, but because he doesn’t see the point. he’s focused, too busy paying attention to you to bother with unnecessary words. at most, you’ll get quiet groans, maybe a low, approving hum if you’re particularly responsive.

۫ ꣑ৎ mostly vanilla sex. no elaborate kinks, except for the occasional bondage using ties (but it’s more for effect). he likes routine, and that applies to the bedroom too. sang-woo knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how to get the reaction he wants out of you.

۫ ꣑ৎ when he’s stressed though, he gets rough; burying his face in your neck as he fucks you like he’s trying to forget everything else.. not intentional, just a byproduct of the pressure he’s under. afterward, when he realises how rough he was, he’s gentle again—hands smoothing over your skin, lips pressing on your temple as an apology.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s a soft dom!!!! and you’re his pillow princess, whether you intended to be or not. he prefers to the one doing the work.

SQUID GAME

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s shocked to see you there. horrified, even. sang-woo was ready to do what it takes to win, but you weren’t supposed to be here.

۫ ꣑ৎ will not let you slow him down. sounds cruel, but sang-woo is in survival mode. he will help you, but only as long as it doesn’t jeopardise him.

۫ ꣑ৎ if it comes down to a split-second decision—you or him—sang-woo doesn’t want to think about what he’ll choose.

۫ ꣑ৎ tells himself he doesn’t afford to love you under the deadly circumstances. but when he closes his eyes, all he sees is you.

pic creds to AESTHCORE_276 on pinterest

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[n1ght0f-nyx]

simon riley headcanons- returning home to you

simon riley x reader headcanons

He’s not used to the quiet. The first few nights, he has trouble sleeping because he’s so used to the hum of machinery, distant gunfire, or the chatter of his squad. You often wake up to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

His hands are always reaching for his gear, even when it’s not there. You’ll catch him unconsciously checking for a weapon he doesn’t need. It takes time for him to relax his instincts.

He still wakes up early out of habit, but instead of rushing to gear up, he just watches you sleep, memorizing the peace in your expression.

He isn’t the best with words, but his love is shown through touch—tight, lingering hugs, a hand on your lower back when walking, or resting his head against yours when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable.

The first time you cup his face after he gets home, he leans into your touch like a starved man. It’s been too long since he’s felt something so gentle.

The mask comes off more often at home, though it still takes time. If you ask him to, he won’t hesitate, but he likes it when you don’t pressure him.

He’s protective—almost overbearingly so. You go to the store alone? He’s tense until you’re back. You mention someone acting suspicious on the street? He’s scanning for threats next time you step outside together.

At first, he forgets how to just be at home. You find him pacing sometimes, restless, unsure of what to do without an objective. It helps when you give him small tasks—cooking dinner together, fixing something around the house, or even just watching a show with you.

If you make a habit of reading or watching TV at night, he eventually joins you. He doesn’t always follow the plot, but he likes the routine of sitting beside you, feeling normal for a change.

Loud noises still make his heart jump, but he hides it well. If you’re holding his hand when it happens, you feel the way his fingers tighten slightly before he forces himself to relax.

He has nightmares, but he tries to keep them to himself. The first time you wake him from one, he flinches away instinctively before realizing it’s you. He hates that. You start waking him more gently, murmuring his name, grounding him before he jolts awake.

He appreciates when you don’t push him to talk about things. Some days, he can open up a little—mentioning a funny moment with his team or something that happened on a mission. Other days, he just wants to exist beside you, no questions asked.

If he leaves again, he always leaves something of his behind for you—his old dog tags, a hoodie, something small but important. It’s his way of making sure a part of him stays with you.

He’s fiercely loyal. The thought of losing you after everything else he’s endured terrifies him. He doesn’t say it often, but when he does, it’s raw and heavy: “I don’t wanna lose you too.”

He rarely asks for comfort outright, but when he finally lets himself rest his head in your lap, or lets you hold him close after a hard night, it means the world to him.

[kawhh]

I was gonna go on anon with this, but you know what? I'm a whore for all three of our boys and I'm proud. So with that being said, what about being shared between Jack, Quinn and Trevor? Thoughts?

UNASHAMED WHORES UNITE. (before I sleep, it's 1am and I need a nap)

It keeps me up often. I'll admit. There's something about the balance of all three of them and how they'd make eachother worse.

They all have different levels of restraint but they'd all end up complete monsters. Constantly poking eachother. To the point of even making Q snap.

I feel like trevor would be the first to touch you. Forcing you on his lap, hooking your legs open. The way he'd trail his fingers slowly up your thighs, the way he'd threaten to violate you, hooking his thumbs under the lace of your underwear, snapping it back against your skin.

Burying his head in your neck, smirking at the brothers. If they're gonna be cowards about it, he's not gonna let that delay him ruining the cute little slut in his lap. A cruel look in his eyes as he bounces you slightly in his lap, forcing you to feel his cock press against you. Only getting harder with how they're glaring at him. Oh, if looks could kill.

Taking it further, licking a stripe up your neck as he lets his fingers dip under your underwear, close enough to your adorable little hole that he knows they won't know if it's actually touching you. Moaning in your ear, pretending that he's feeling you soaking his fingers.

He can see it working, he can see how worked up Jack's getting. His clenched fingers are pale. The slight tremble in his arms, the restraint he's using to not pounce on you. He swears he's almost drawing blood with how tight he's biting his lip. He won't take long. Just needs a little push.

"Mhmm.. Jaaack.. you really should feel how fucking soaked our little slut is. She's clenching around nothing.. such a fucking whore. Soaking my hand."

Biting your ear, making you squeak, giving your clit a harsh stroke, relishing in how Jack's eye's twitch at the sound of your arousal.

He's not focusing on Quinn. He won't snap until it's both of them bullying you. Too much of an ego. Too much self praise of his control.

The sound's too much for Jack, he's grabbing your ankles, yanking you down the bed. He can't handle not touching you. Can't handle someone touching his property. Trevor can't fuck you like he can. He's too selfish. He won't focus on you. Too focused on his own need to cum. Unlike him. He'll have you screaming before he even bottoms out in you.

Trevor's forgetting the numbers advantage. If he can get Quinn to snap, they're so in sync that he won't stand a chance. You'll be begging to be shared between them. You could wake up every morning with them, spit roasting you for breakfast.

He lets out a borderline growl as he watches Trevor rest your head against his cock. See? Selfish. Even now he's trying to get his dick sucked instead of worshiping you.

Fuck that.

He's yanking you even further down the bed, ignoring your comfort now that he's wrapped up in this ego battle. Blinded with how irritated he is. Giving you no warning as he rips your underwear, diving in to bite your hip, tearing the scraps from your body with his teeth. Glaring up at Trevor. He's still smirking. Still thinks he has the advantage. So what if he was the first to touch you?

Slapping your soaking pussy, the smugness increasing in his glare as you moan and jolt. Pussy clearly knows who it belongs to. Resting his head against your inner thigh, slowly leaving kisses around your hole, teasing you, the way you squeak if he gets too close.

Seeing Trevor twitch, kissing you directly on your tight, wet hole, frenching your cute little lips. Dragging his tongue along your walls. Eyes rolling back in his head at your taste. 'Course his girl tastes delicious. Digging his hands into your ass, lifting you up towards him. Needing more leverage to tongue fuck you. Smothering himself in your arousal. Feeling it drip down his chin, soaking the bed.

He can feel Quinn sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, looking up briefly to see him stroke your hair.

"Being a good girl for Jack, angel? Yeah? You gonna cum on his face? Warm your cunt up for me, yeah?"

You're crying at the contrast. The softness of Quinn's actions.. the brutal way Jack's swirling his tongue inside of you. Firmly trapped in their grip, far away from Trevor.

Helpless to defend against the way Jack manhandles you, flipping you onto your stomach, tugging your hair back, forcing you to look at Trevor. Murderous looking Trevor. He's suddenly thrusting into you, giving you no warning, no time to warm up. Going back on his need to make you cum and scream first. He needs this. Feeling his balls slap against your skin, the sound echoing through the room. Every slap making Trevor twitch.

Hammering into you, pushing you further into the bed. The drag of his cock against your walls is brain numbing. You don't know if you're crying, screaming or dying. He's slamming into your cervix, a little circle to his hips at the end of every thrust, making sure you can feel how big he is, how he fucks you better than anyone ever will.

Yelping as you feel hands on your ass, taking a second to realise what's happening. You'd almost forgotten. Whimpering as you're attacked with an even harder thrust, like he's telling you off for forgetting Quinn in your cock drunk haze.

Trying to squirm up the bed as your feel Quinn playing with your ass, stretching you apart to spit on your untouched hole, giving Jack a better view of how your cunt is gripping him, desperate to keep him inside.

It's no good. Good little sluts don't crawl away from what they're being given. You're being yanked down towards them, feeling like you're actually going to split apart on Jack's cock. Your vision blurs at the brutality.

Feeling Quinn slowly drag his thumb around your hole, threatening to push in. The pressure, the threat, making you whine loudly, begging them for mercy.

"Want me to really show you a good time, angel? Or do you want us both in that stretched little cunt?"

Jack's collapsing against your back at his brother's words, the darkness in his voice. Slamming into you one last time before he floods you. Watching his cum leak out, eyes widening as Quinn scoops it up with his thumb, pressing it against your ass. Forcing it in slightly, giving your ass a smack as a parting gift.

You're barely conscious, dragging your face up the soft bedsheets, glancing up at Trevor. He's a fucking mess. You can see his cum soaked boxers from here, the redness on his cheeks. The way he's just staring at you.

You're being grabbed, the brothers half throwing you up the bed, making you land close to Trevor. They're sandwiching you in a huddle on the bed before you can move. Quinn holding your leg up against his grip, grinding himself against you.

"Best you get some sleep.. before you wake up with my cock down your throat. Still have to show you who the best brother is, don't I?"

[meadowfics]

I apologize if you're not taking requests at this time. I just have to get it down before I forget lol.

What if Kang Dae-Ho and reader meet during the games and somehow survive and get married and have a kid who one day comes home from school wanting to play these children games they learned from their classmates/teachers (the games they played) and maybe it brings up the bad memories. Like kinda angsty but with a comforting ending something.

childhood dreams, adult nightmares

kang dae-ho x wife!mother!reader

seo-ah does not understand the effect of a childhood game on you

I am adding this to my, "kang family" series since this is such a good concept! thank you for requesting <3

warning: PTSD mentions, yes dae-ho and y/n were in the games in this AU before seo-ah and byeol came along :(

there is a link to see seo-ah's little cute sneakers to make your day <3

four years ago, you never thought you would live to see this life.

the quiet suburban home in the countryside in korea.

the warm smell of baby lotion and freshly brewed tea lingering in the air. the sound of your three-year-old daughter, seo-ah, giggling as she kicks off her tiny pink strawberry sneakers by the door.

the little girl's excitement was bubbling over after a long day at daycare.

you never thought you would survive at all to see this life,

or any life outside of comfort,

or any life outside of poverty,

yet here you are.

your hands tighten slightly on the baby carrier strapped to your chest, where byeol is sleeping peacefully, her tiny face nestled against your sternum, breaths warm and steady.

byeol's weight is small but grounding, a reminder that she is real. that this life is real, and you did survive the worst.

you and dae-ho had spent the day running errands, taking turns carrying byeol, rocking her, feeding her, going through the motions of parenthood with the quiet ease of two people who had built a home out of the wreckage of their past.

when you talked to dae-ho's oldest sister, and your sister-in-law, hana, a few months back, she suggested that seo-ah is at an age where she needs more social interaction with kids her own age.

so, dae-ho and you put seo-ah in morning daycare so she can play, start her learning, and make some new mini friends.

today had been a good day.

until seo-ah says something that freezes you in place.

"eomma, we played a new game today at recess!"

seo-ah announces, pulling her backpack off and tossing it onto the floor. the girl's cheeks are flushed with excitement as she bounces on her toes.

you smile, adjusting the strap of the baby carrier, watching as she pulls out a small piece of construction paper with crayon scribbles all over it.

"oh yeah? what game, baby?"

she grins, bright and carefree, completely unaware of the way your world is about to tilt on its axis.

"I think it was called... hm? wait! red light, green light! it was red light, green light!"

your breath catches in your throat.

your hands go still.

your entire body stiffens, as if your muscles are locking up, as if your nervous system is throwing every alarm at once, a tidal wave of ice-cold fear crashing down on you.

red light. green light.

breathe.

breathe.

you can't.

your ears ring.

your vision blurs at the edges.

your heartbeat thunders in your chest, loud and panicked, drowning out the warmth of the home around you.

"eomma?"

seo-ah tilts her head, blinking up at you with wide, innocent eyes.

she doesn't know.

seo-ah doesn't know.

act normal, y/n.

you force a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"o-oh, yeah? who taught you that game?"

your voice feels distant, wrong, like it doesn’t belong to you.

"seonsaengnim said it’s really fun! we played it outside, and i won once!"

she beams, clearly proud of herself.

your stomach churns. nausea twists inside you like a knot pulled too tight.

images flash behind your eyes, unwelcome and cruel.

you remember when you won once, too.

except, you would have died if you didn't.

the sun beating down on your skin. the crack of gunfire. bodies collapsing around you, limp and lifeless. the screams. the silence.

stop. stop. stop.

"eomma?"

you snap back to the present, your nails digging into your palms as you force yourself to focus on your daughter.

on her soft voice, her curious eyes she got from you, the way she’s still waiting for your response.

before you can say anything, dae-ho’s voice calls out from down the hall.

"seo-ah, baby, use your inside voice! your sister's sleeping."

your head turns instinctively.

dae-ho is in byeol’s nursery, gently rocking her bassinet as he hums under his breath, soothing her. t

he sight of him...tall, strong, always steady...should bring you comfort.

right now, you don’t want him to see you like this.

you don’t want to trigger him, too.

"w-why don’t you go wash your hands before dinner, hm?"

you tell seo-ah, ruffling her hair.

she pouts but obeys, skipping off toward the bathroom, humming a song to herself.

as soon as she’s gone, you let out a shaky breath and press a hand to your chest, as if that will somehow slow the frantic beating of your heart.

you close your eyes. try to shake it off. try to remind yourself that this is not then.

this is not the games.

however, your body doesn’t understand the difference.

its been a while since you remembered those games. your brain tries to block that memory all of the time.

today, the memories were clear as day.

your legs feel weak as you make your way to the bedroom, setting the empty baby carrier down carefully before you sit on the edge of the bed.

your hands are still trembling, your lungs still tight.

you need to pull yourself together. you can’t let dae-ho see you like this.

you can’t—

“baby?”

your husband's voice is soft, but it startles you anyway.

you snap your head up, meeting his gaze.

dae-ho is standing in the doorway, brows furrowed slightly, his expression unreadable.

your stomach twists.

he noticed.

of course he did.

you try to muster a small smile.

“hey.”

he studies you for a long moment before stepping forward.

“what’s wrong?”

don’t tell him.

don’t tell him.

you don’t want to see that look in his eyes.

the same look he had the night you both finally got out, the night you collapsed in his arms, covered in blood that wasn’t your own, shaking so violently he had to hold you together.

the night before that when the rebellion happened. when you had to comfort a shaking dae-ho since the gunshots reminded him of his time in the marines.

he had worser PTSD symptoms than you did, if you had to compare.

however, dae-ho is patient.

he crouches in front of you, resting a warm hand on your knee.

"talk to me, baby."

you let out a slow breath, your throat tight.

“seo-ah told me that she--um--played… red light, green light today at daycare.”

he stills.

"it reminded me of.."

for a long moment, neither of you say anything.

dae-ho's fingers flex against your knee, his jaw tightens, his own breathing uneven. the ex-marine's eyes darken in a way that makes your stomach drop.

"oh."

you nod.

"yeah."

a heavy silence falls between you, thick with memories neither of you want to relive.

“i didn’t want to tell you,”

you admit quietly.

“i didn’t want to make you—”

“it’s okay,”

he cuts in gently.

“you can tell me anything.”

you can see it.

the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curl into fists before he slowly unclenches them.

he’s not okay either. but he’s trying.

just like you.

he takes a deep breath, then reaches for your hands, lacing his fingers through yours.

“she’s safe,”

he says, and you can’t tell if he’s reminding you or himself.

“she’s here. alive. she’s okay.”

you nod, squeezing his hands.

"i know. i just—" you swallow hard.

"it still gets to me."

"i know, sweetheart."

his voice is so soft it almost breaks you.

he moves to sit beside you, pulling you into his arms. the warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, is the only thing keeping you from spiraling again.

"breathe with me,"

he murmurs against your hair.

so you do.

inhale.

his chest rises with yours.

exhale.

dae-ho's arms tighten around you.

the two of you sit like that for a long time, breathing together, grounding each other.

you don’t know how much time passes before you finally whisper,

“do you think it’ll ever go away?”

he doesn’t answer right away. then, he sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"maybe not completely but we have each other, right?"

you close your eyes, nodding.

"yeah."

"and seo-ah. and byeol."

his voice is steadier now.

"we survived, baby. we made it. no one is taking anything from us ever again."

dae-ho's words settle into your bones, solid and warm, and you believe him.

you press your face against his chest, soaking in the quiet comfort of him.

the past will always be there, unfortunately, waiting for moments like this to creep in.

you are here alive with dae-ho. together.

alive.

kang family masterlist here

[atlabeth]

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep. 

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night. 

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you. 

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI. 

But then there’s also… you in general. 

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about. 

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his. 

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him. 

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one. 

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again. 

That bums him out even more, though. 

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back. 

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear. 

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles. 

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on. 

“Gideon?” he asks again. 

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.” 

His blood goes cold as the words finally register. 

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker. 

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words. 

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger. 

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time. 

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.” 

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance. 

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you? 

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this? 

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along. 

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You. 

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous. 

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here. 

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear. 

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion. 

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” 

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours. 

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say. 

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.” 

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear. 

“I’m assuming you heard that?” 

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?” 

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.” 

“...Good.” 

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls. 

“I’m not—” 

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway. 

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him. 

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.” 

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip. 

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.” 

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips. 

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.” 

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door. 

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather. 

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking. 

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well. 

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger. 

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus. 

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about. 

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it. 

“What the h—” 

“Footprints,” he whispers.  “Th— they’re almost gone, but—” 

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm. 

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.” 

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—” 

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks. 

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters. 

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!” 

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here. 

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.” 

“He was watching us—” 

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.” 

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this. 

“Just look at me,” he says softly. 

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else. 

“Breathe with me.” 

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge. 

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Better,” you murmur. “I—” 

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him. 

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.” 

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background. 

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay. 

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.” 

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.” 

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more. 

“Gideon?” 

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.” 

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says. 

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—” 

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts. 

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.” 

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.” 

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest. 

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets. 

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka. 

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open. 

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.” 

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.” 

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.” 

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug. 

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear. 

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments. 

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.” 

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.” 

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one. 

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real. 

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.” 

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—” 

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.” 

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all. 

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired. 

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite. 

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.” 

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.” 

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket. 

“What’d he want?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.” 

“It’s not good for you.” 

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.” 

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.” 

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead. 

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.” 

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.” 

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?” 

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say. 

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.” 

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks. 

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.” 

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.” 

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate. 

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you. 

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there. 

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse? 

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.” 

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.” 

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says. 

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it. 

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you. 

-

“Very cozy,” you say. 

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds. 

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.” 

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.” 

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.” 

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. ���Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.” 

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around. 

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth. 

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up. 

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.” 

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?” 

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug. 

“Okay.” 

He blinks. “Really?” 

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.” 

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.” 

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

You chuckle. “Still fighting.” 

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to. 

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything. 

“What a day,” he mutters. 

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.” 

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.” 

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.” 

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.” 

You pause. “You’re… probably right.” 

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?” 

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.” 

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.” 

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.” 

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.” 

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.” 

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.” 

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.” 

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.” 

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?” 

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.” 

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?” 

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science. 

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”  

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows. 

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.” 

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position. 

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.” 

 “Of course,” he agrees. 

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science. 

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate. 

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.” 

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance. 

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.” 

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.” 

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.” 

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?” 

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything. 

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you. 

It’s ironic. 

“Me too,” he eventually manages. 

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good. 

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible. 

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone. 

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep. 

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

[thequeenofcurses]

Death of a Bachelor Part 2

The Wedding

summary: you're marrying the one and only special grade sorcerer: ryomen sukuna. wk: 5.1k (sry)

<- Part 1

Sukuna POV | 3:00 am

“You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t believe it was worth it,” Nanami’s words echoed in Sukuna’s head throughout the night, sneaking into his dreams. Was tying himself down, forever, really the right decision?

Sukuna tossed and turned before eventually he just sat up and threw his covers off of him. He didn’t bother to throw a shirt on and walked straight to the kitchen. Maybe some water will help. He chugged the glass then drank another and another, yet his head still remained foggy. Fuck. I’ve never felt like this before. What the hell is this?

Not wanting to bother waking you with a text or call, Sukuna unlocks his phone and types a message to the one person he can trust to talk to right now. His assistant.

Sukuna: I know you’re awake. You want to swing by? Uraume: No. Sukuna: I wasn’t asking Uraume: IT’S 3AM SUKUNA! Sukuna: Look I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, just get over here.

Ten minutes pass until Uraume’s short figure is knocking at Sukuna’s door. They quickly enter Sukuna’s security code and just walk through the door, finding a shirtless Sukuna downing another glass of water in his kitchen. 

“You made it,” Sukuna’s voice was lighter than his normal tone. You and Uraume are the only two people who get to see or hear that side of him. “I know it’s late, I just– ”

“Nervous?” Uraume concluded with a nod.

“I don’t get nervous.”

“Sure…” The silence was thick enough to slice through the air. “So, why was I summoned here at three am.”

“Stop acting like you weren’t already awake.”

“Maybe I was busy.”

“You don’t have a life,” Sukuna smirked. “I am your life.”

“Whatever,” the white haired assistant grumbled with an eye roll. They sat on a barstool near the kitchen island, arms together, waiting for an explanation. 

Sukuna paced. “I don’t want any more damn water, but –” he walked back and forth around his large kitchen. “I love y/n, I really do. But for the first time in my life, something is happening to me that I can’t just overcome with my raw strength or power. It’s… unsettling.”

Uraume raised an eyebrow, watching as Sukuna continued his pacing like a caged animal. “You’re unsettled because this isn’t something you can just fight your way through. You actually have to feel it.”

Sukuna stopped mid-step, scowling at them. “Tch. Don’t start getting all philosophical on me.”

Uraume shrugged. “Just saying. You’re afraid of something, and it sure as hell isn’t her.”

Sukuna exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not afraid.” The words came out too fast, too defensive. Even he could hear it. He turned, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. “It’s just… different. No opponent. No enemy. Just me deciding to be with her. And no matter how strong I am, I can’t control the future.”

Uraume tilted their head. “So? You still want to marry her, don’t you?”

Sukuna’s jaw clenched. His thoughts flickered to you, your laughter, the way you challenged him without fear, your unmistakable otherworldly beauty, your strength, the way your nails dig into his back when he’s giving it to you so good. The way your touch softened the jagged edges of his world.

“…Yeah,�� he admitted, his voice quieter now. “More than anything.”

Uraume smirked, standing up. “Then quit your bitching and go to sleep. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Sukuna groaned. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“Just returning the favor.”After a hug and a promise to be early at the wedding, Uraume let themself out. Sukuna trugged back to his bed and tried to get some rest. He really did try. His mind was flooded with thoughts of you and the joy you bring him. From memories of how you two met, fighting curses together, your first date, to the moment he proposed to you.

Fuck it. I have to see her.

Your window was unlocked. Again. As frustrating as it was, you forgetting to lock it, Sukuna was glad he had an easy way to get inside your room. Damn it, woman he thought. You’re gonna be the death of me.

You’re mumbling in your sleep when the movement and sound of your blankets rustling cause you to wake. You blink back your tiredness, head still pounding from the previous night. It takes a few moments until you spot those iconic black tattoos. Sukuna had made his way into your bed.

“K-kuna?” you gasp confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I just,” he started. He gently placed a large hand on your head, running it through your hair. “I needed to see you.”

“You know, it’s bad luck to see a bride on the day of her wedding,” you joked. Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding him close as you nuzzle into his touch. “You okay?”

“Tch. Of course, I am,” he scoffs, but the way his thumb brushes against your cheek betrays his words.

You hum sleepily, watching his sharp eyes soften under the dim light. “You sure? Because I think you might be the one getting cold feet.”

Sukuna huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re really testing me, sweetheart.”

You grin lazily. “Just making sure you’re not gonna ditch me at the altar.”

His grip tightens slightly, just enough to remind you of his strength. “I should be worried about you running off,” he mutters. “Wouldn’t put it past you to get second thoughts at the last second.”

You let out a soft giggle, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Good.” There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You better not change your mind, woman. If you leave me at the altar, I’ll burn the whole damn city down.”

Your body leans into him, so naturally. He gives you another kiss, this time on your mouth. And then another, each kiss getting more and more dominating. “I should take you right now. Make sure you know exactly who you belong to before you walk down that aisle.”

You gasp into his mouth, nodding at his offer. He’s already seen you. Your wedding luck can’t get any worse if you let him have his way with you. Each kiss of his seemingly takes your breath away. You're panting like an animal before Sukuna finally slows down, gripping the sheets instead. This isn’t the time, he thinks to himself.

As your breathing evens out, Sukuna pulls back, letting you lay on his chest. It only takes a few moments before you’re drifting off again and he’s watching the way your lips part slightly in sleep. His hand drags over your blankets before he finally pulls away, slipping out as quietly as he came. After seeing you, his head is clearer than ever. Once Sukuna reaches his home, he’s finally able to peacefully sleep.

The next time Sukuna opens his eyes, golden sunlight spills across his sheets, creeping up his bare chest like a silent reminder that today is the day.

For the first time in hours, he feels rested. No more restless pacing, no more unanswered questions. He knows what he wants. And in just a few hours, you’ll be his.

A sharp knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts.

“Get up,” Uraume’s voice cuts through the morning stillness. “It’s your wedding day.”

Sukuna exhales through his nose, running a hand down his face before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As soon as he opens the door, Uraume pushes past him, already assessing the situation with their usual cold efficiency.

"At least you don’t look like shit," they remark, scanning his face.

Sukuna smirks. “And here I thought you were gonna say something sentimental.”

“Why would I start now?” Uraume shoves a garment bag into his chest. “Shower then get dressed.”

Sukuna sighs but doesn’t argue. He strips out of his sweatpants and steps into the bathroom, quickly showering before putting on his crisp, custom-tailored suit waiting for him. Black and red, sleek, fitted to perfection, because of course, he refuses to look anything less than perfect. His hands move on instinct, buttoning the cuffs, adjusting the collar.

As he fastens the last button, Uraume watches him carefully. “You’re really doing this.”

Sukuna meets their gaze in the mirror. His reflection stares back, tattoos sharp against his skin, eyes burning with something rare and untamed.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I am.”

A rare, knowing smile tugs at Uraume’s lips. “Then let’s go. Can’t have your bride waiting.”

The ride to the shrine is quiet. Sukuna stares out the tinted window, fingers tapping idly against his knee. Uraume sits beside him, but neither of them speak. There’s nothing to say.

For the first time in years, he’s not walking into a battlefield. No enemies to kill, no grudges to settle. Just a shrine filled with people waiting for him to witness him make a promise he never thought he’d be the type to make.

The car slows to a stop just outside Meiji Jingu Shrine, its towering torii gate standing tall against the early morning sky. The sun filters through the dense forest surrounding the grounds, casting golden rays onto the stone pathways leading to the main shrine complex. The air is crisp, laced with the faint scent of cypress and incense.

As soon as Sukuna steps out, a familiar voice calls his name.

"Uncle Sukuna!"

He turns just in time to catch Yuji barreling toward him, weaving past guests and attendants. The kid skids to a stop right before impact, grinning up at him with the same bright-eyed excitement that always makes Sukuna sigh. Choso follows at a slower pace, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his formal kimono, his expression more reserved.

"You look cool," Yuji says, rocking on his heels. "Like, scary cool. But also, like… kinda groom-y."

Sukuna scoffs. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

Yuji nods enthusiastically. "Obviously."

Choso elbows him lightly. "Don’t be annoying." Then, turning to Sukuna, he hesitates before muttering, "You clean up well."

Sukuna raises a brow. "That’s the best I’m getting?"

Choso shrugs. "Yeah."

Tch. Brats.

Still, he ruffles Yuji’s hair, earning a squawk of protest, and nods at Choso in acknowledgment. This was it. His nephews, the only family he had. And somehow, knowing they were here made something settle in his chest.

"Alright," Uraume cuts in, ever the practical one. "It’s time."

Sukuna exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders. Then, without another word, he steps beneath the torii gate, following the path leading toward the main shrine, where the rest of his life is waiting.

The path toward the shrine is lined with guests, all of them bowing their heads in respect. Sukuna doesn’t care for the formalities, but he appreciates their sincerity. This isn’t a day for indulgence or power, this is something deeper. Something... personal.

Yuji and Choso follow closely behind him, their presence a reminder of why he's here. His nephews, his family. The only ones who ever mattered to him. Their voices barely audible above the murmur of the crowd, until they scramble off to find their seats.

The main shrine comes into view, an elegant structure framed by tall trees and hanging lanterns. The guests are seated in rows, faces mostly unfamiliar, though a few nod their heads in recognition as he approaches.

He can already feel the weight of all their eyes on him. The anticipation. The expectation.

Just before he reaches the steps leading to the shrine, he quietly hands Uraume a small velvet box from his pocket. They take it without question.

It felt absurd to be holding onto them – the rings. Marriage, commitment, wasn’t something he ever saw himself doing. But here he is, with his past behind him and a future he never expected waiting ahead.

As he ascends the stairs, his mind drifts to you. You’re just beyond these doors. Waiting.

He could hear the soft murmurs of the crowd, feel their gazes tracing his every movement.

There’s no turning back now.

The thought flickers across his mind, but before he can give it too much attention, Nanami’s voice cuts through his thoughts, clear and sharp: “You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t believe it was worth it.”

His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no denying the truth in those words. He’s here because, despite everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, this matters.

He doesn’t know when it happened, when you became more than just a fleeting moment in his life. The woman who challenged him. Who made him feel things he couldn’t control.

It doesn’t matter.

Sukuna steps inside the shrine, his heart thrumming in his chest, loud enough for him to hear it over the soft sounds of the ceremony music.

Nanami’s words echo again, not just in his mind, but in the space around him. The weight of the promise he’s about to make settles in with a gravity he can’t ignore.This is worth it. For you.

The moment the ceremony begins, Sukuna stands at the altar, his gaze momentarily flickering toward the door. The air is thick with anticipation, and the soft rustle of the crowd fades into a distant hum. Then, like a dream unfolding before his eyes, you step into the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the temple’s sacred light.

Your wedding dress is a vision of elegance, designed to make even the most confident man lose his composure. The black and red fabric hugs your body in all the right places before cascading into a soft, layered skirt that flows gracefully as you move. The lace is so soft, almost translucent, a whisper of romance in every stitch. The long, flowing train drags gently behind you, catching the light with each step, creating an almost dreamlike aura as you make your way toward Sukuna.

His breath catches in his throat the second his eyes land on you, and for a moment, the world around him blurs. His heart beats a little faster, more erratically than usual, as if the weight of the moment has hit him all at once. You're breathtaking. This vision of you in this dress, is nothing like anything he ever imagined. He can’t look away, his sharp red eyes drinking in the sight of you as though he's afraid this moment will slip away if he dares to blink.

Sukuna can’t help but feel a tightness in his chest as he watches you approach, the red veil adding to your allure, making the moment feel all the more surreal. This woman, walking towards him, is no longer just the one who challenged him: she is the one who has captured his heart in a way he never thought possible.

You walk toward him, and despite the crowd’s presence, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to pull you into his arms, but he remains still, unable to tear his gaze away. His heart swells with pride, love, and an emotion he rarely allows himself to feel so fully. You are his everything.

On your slow descent toward the love of your life, you hear lots of happy chants and whistles from your co-workers. The loudest of them all being from the one and only Satoru Gojo. You shake your head at his aloofness and keep your composure.

When you reach the altar, Sukuna’s hand finally moves, the tremor in his fingers betraying his usual confident demeanor. He reaches out for you, his thumb brushing against your hand as if confirming you're really here, with him, in this moment. The dress, the ceremony, everything fades as he pulls you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're perfect," Sukuna mutters under his breath, a soft growl of appreciation that somehow, only you can hear. There's a flicker of something deep in his eyes, something tender, something real. His lips press together in a firm line as he forces himself to maintain his composure, but the awe in his expression is undeniable.

Like a deadly silent ninja, Uraume quickly sneaks past the old priest to hand him the rings then back to their seat. 

The priest smiles, happily accepting them. The soft murmur of the crowd fades into silence as you and Sukuna stand facing each other, hands clasped tightly. 

“We gather today to witness the union of y/n and Sukuna under the guidance of the kami," the short man starts. "Let us call upon the divine spirits to bless this marriage.” The man opens up the box with the rings, then gestures for you and Sukuna to take them. He nods, signalling for you two to state your vows.

The weight of the moment hangs between you; this promise, these words, are more than just tradition. They're a reflection of everything you've both experienced, everything you’ve shared, and everything that lies ahead.

Sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver from you as he begins, his voice steady but filled with depth, “I won’t lie and say I always believed in something like this. In love, in a promise like marriage. But you, Y/N… you’re different. You’ve turned everything I knew upside down. You’ve made me want to be someone better. So today, I vow to you, with everything I am, that I will never stop fighting for you.” He takes your ring and slides it onto your finger.

His voice drops lower, softer, yet the intensity of his words cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and true. “I vow to protect you, no matter the cost. To shield you from the world, and to make sure that, for as long as I breathe, nothing comes between us. You are mine, and I am yours. And I will never, ever let you go. Even if the world itself crumbles, I will stand by your side.”

He pauses, his eyes softening as they meet yours. For a brief moment, you catch the flicker of vulnerability in them, something raw, something real. He inhales, then continues, his words heavy with sincerity, “I vow to stand by your side, not just as your husband, but as your equal. To never let you feel alone, to always listen when you speak, and to give you everything I have. My loyalty, my strength, and all my love.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, a rush of emotions surging through you. Sukuna, the same man who once swore he’d never be tied down, now stands before you, giving you these promises, words that hold weight far beyond what any ring or ceremony could represent. The tears you are fighting so hard to keep back start to overflow, softly drifting down your cheeks.

His lips curl into a rare, soft smile, one only you could elicit, and he finishes, his voice steady but imbued with something deeper than words, “I vow to be yours in every way, now and forever.”

The crowd stays silent, but you feel the energy of the moment, the promise that is now sealed between you both.

You take a deep breath, feeling the gravity of what you’re about to say, and when you speak, your voice is clear and unwavering, despite the emotions swirling inside you. “I used to believe that love was just a word, a concept meant to keep people tied to promises they couldn’t keep. But then you came into my life, and everything changed. You showed me that love isn’t just about words or gestures. It’s about the actions, the choices we make, every single day.”

You take his ring and slide it onto his finger, your hands trembling slightly. “So today, I vow to you that I will stand by you, in the good and the bad, when the world is bright and when it’s dark. I vow to never give up on us, no matter the challenges we face. I promise to face them with you, because together, we’re unstoppable.”

You take another breath, meeting his eyes with a fierce sincerity. “I vow to love you, with everything I have, every single day. To choose you, even when it’s hard, and to never let go of what we’ve built. I promise to be your strength when you falter, your peace when the world is too much, and your home, always.”

A brief moment of silence passes between you, as if the weight of your words is sinking in, deep into your hearts. 

“I vow to honor you, not just as my husband, but as my equal, my partner, my family,” you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. “I’ll never let you feel unimportant, never let you feel alone. You’re the reason I can face the future with hope. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never have to face it without me by your side.”

Sukuna’s breath catches at the weight of your words, and for a moment, you both are lost in each other’s gaze—the vows hanging in the air, binding you together forever.

Finally, the old priest smiles, his voice soft as he claps and says, “You have both expressed your vows, your promises to each other. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

The crowd exhales in unison, the sound of applause echoing through the shrine, but all Sukuna hears is the steady rhythm of his heart. Out of the corner of his eye, Sukuna sees Geto throwing his fist into the air and Gojo waving a sign that says “Death of a Bachelor.” (Gojo’s handwriting is abysmal)

Without hesitation, Sukuna’s hand tightens around yours, and he leans down, pushing back your veil, pulling you close. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s anything but soft. It’s rough, commanding, and filled with the intensity of everything he’s promised. It’s a kiss that doesn’t hold back, just as he never does. The passion behind it burns hot, sealing the vows with the raw, undeniable force of his love. The tenderness he’s capable of is there, but it’s wrapped in the fierceness that defines him: no hesitation, no doubt.

For a brief moment, time stands still, the kiss, everything and nothing all at once, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is real. This is your forever.

The after-party began immediately, the transition from ceremony to celebration seamless. After a few obligatory photos, some formal, some candid (and more than a few where Sukuna looked like he was barely tolerating the process), he wasted no time leading you to the dance floor, his grip firm yet possessive around your hand.

The guests expected the first dance to be a typical “slow, romantic, something traditional” type song. Instead, the opening chords of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" echoed through the venue, the deep, familiar melody sending a ripple of surprise through the crowd.

You looked up at Sukuna, half amused, half touched. Of course, he'd do something unexpected. And yet, as he pulled you into his arms, swaying with effortless confidence, you knew there wasn’t a song more fitting for the two of you.

Your hands slid up to rest behind his neck, fingers tracing the short hairs at his nape. He held your waist, guiding you with an ease that made it feel as if you'd danced together a thousand times before. The world faded away as you moved in sync, each step, each turn, every brush of your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understood.

Sukuna leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured along with the song, his voice husky and deliberate. “No, nothing else matters.”

Your chest tightened, your heart swelling with so much joy it felt like it might burst. You tilted your head back just enough to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip. There was no one else in this moment. Just you and him.

When the song ended, a small, energetic pink blur rushed toward you.

"Uncle Sukuna, dance with me!" Yuji beamed up at him, his excitement boundless as he tugged on his sleeve. Behind him, Choso and Nanami approached, both at a more measured pace, Nanami looking like he wasn’t quite sure how he ended up here.

Sukuna let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Tch. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, brat."

Yuji just grinned wider, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor. The sight of Sukuna, formidable, untouchable Sukuna, humoring a child in the middle of his own wedding made your heart swell even more. Even Choso looked a little softer as he stood beside you, watching his little brother with something close to fondness.

Maybe someday you can have your own child with him.

You used the moment to mingle, accepting congratulations from guests, exchanging a few teasing words with Utahime, and even sharing a drink with Shoko and Nanami, who looked vaguely exhausted, but resigned to the festivities.

Eventually, Sukuna found his way back to you, as if drawn by an invisible thread, like he couldn’t stand to be away from you for too long. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“It’ll be time for us to go soon,” he murmured, his voice low and promising. “I’ve got plans for us.” The smirk he wore was nothing short of sinful, and the heat in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers curled into his jacket, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “What kind of plans?”

Sukuna chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to make you feel it. “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”

And with that, the night continued, filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and the unshakable certainty that no matter what came next, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the night stretched on, laughter and music filled the air, the energy never waning. But soon, the time came for the final part of the evening: the send-off. 

Surprisingly, Mei Mei had volunteered to help pack your honeymoon wardrobe. Probably, because she got to shop for everything herself, and the world knows that woman can shop.

Someone, probably Uraume, had rallied the guests to gather outside, lining the grand pathway leading to the sleek, black car waiting at the end. Lanterns and soft golden lights illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the night. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as everyone took their place, sparklers in hand, the flickering embers mirroring the stars overhead.

Sukuna stood beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders in a loose but possessive hold. He watched the scene with a raised brow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "Tch. Is all this really necessary?"

You laughed, nudging him lightly. “Let them have their fun. It’s not every day the mighty Sukuna gets married.”

His smirk was sharp as he leaned in. “Not every day someone makes me want to.”

The moment the two of you stepped forward, the crowd erupted into cheers. Sparks danced in the air as the sparklers lit up the path, and you felt the heat of Sukuna’s palm as he laced his fingers with yours. He led you forward, your steps slow at first, taking in the smiling faces, the warmth, the love that surrounded you.

Yuji and Ino were the loudest, waving their sparklers aggressively. Nanami stood off to the side, his nod of approval as subtle as ever. Uraume watched from the distance, arms crossed, but their lips twitched slightly, almost like they were proud.

Gojo, of course, was the most obnoxious.

“MY BOY! LOOK AT HIM!” He whistled loudly, practically bouncing on his feet. “DIDN’T THINK I’D LIVE TO SEE THE DAY!”

Shoko, standing beside him with a drink in hand, smirked. “I give it six months before she realizes what a pain in the ass he is.”

Mei Mei hummed in amusement. “I would’ve put money on him staying a bachelor forever. Guess love really does make fools out of us all.”

Geto chuckled from beside her, arms crossed. “If nothing else, it’ll be entertaining to see him domesticated.”

Sukuna acted as if he hadn’t heard any of them, but you felt the way his fingers flexed slightly around yours, the way his grip tightened like he was restraining himself from turning around and making very impolite comments.

Halfway down the path, Sukuna suddenly stopped. Before you could ask why, he turned to face you, eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable. Then, in front of everyone, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a deep, searing kiss, one meant to remind you, and everyone watching, exactly who you belonged to.

The crowd lost it.

Yuji let out a dramatic groan. “OH COME ON! GET A ROOM!”

Gojo cheered obnoxiously. “YEAH! THAT’S MY KING!” He clapped loudly, nudging Geto. “Tell me that wasn’t the smoothest shit you’ve ever seen.”

Geto sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. “I hate that I agree with you.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, raising her drink. “Cheers to that poor woman. She’s in for a lifetime of that.”

A mixture of cheers, whistles, and dramatic groans (most likely from Yuji) filled the air. When he pulled back, Sukuna looked maddeningly pleased with himself. “Had to make sure they know you're mine before I take you away.”

Your breath was shaky, but you managed to roll your eyes. “Pretty sure they already know.” You wave your hand with the wedding ring and wiggle your fingers.

With that, he led you the rest of the way to the car. The door was held open, and before you could so much as settle in, Sukuna was right beside you, his hand already back on your thigh. The car pulled away, the glow of the sparklers fading into the distance, and with it, the last remnants of the wedding night.

Sukuna exhaled, finally alone with you. His fingers traced slow circles over your skin. “You ready for the real fun to begin?”

Your stomach fluttered, anticipation thick in the air. “I should be asking you that.”

His grin was sharp, dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you're in for.”

And with that, your honeymoon truly began.

<- Part 1

A/N I meant for this to be short, but I got carried away writing. I hope you guys enjoy the fluff though <3 Only one more chapter left of this story :)

not sure if you wanted to be tagged but just in case you did: @moonchhu

masterlist | jjk masterlist

[sweetskullybones]

Dark Cacao Cookie x housekeeper/servant! Reader

Warnings/Trigger warnings: none!

Genre: fluff

Readers pronouns: they/them, she/her, he/him

At first, Dark cacao cookie didn't really pay much mind to you at all. He, of course, cared about all of his people equally. When you offered to help around his housing, he took your offer up and lead you around, just so you could get used to and adjust to his large housing.

The other cookie servants and you had bonded in a short period of time. You were the sweetest cookie in the baked batch of the other cookies in the kingdom, even Dark cacao cookies warriors were fond of you and your kindness. You helped the chefs in the kitchen clean up after breakfast, lunch and dinner so it wouldn't stress them out much.

However, When Dark cacao's son, Dark choco cookie was born; Dark cacao had slowly noticed overtime how gentle and caring you were with his son.. each morning when he woke up and checked to see if dark choco cookie was still sleeping,, you'd be there, spinning around in circles with his son cradled in your arms. Dark choco cookie would often accidentally refer to you as his mom/dad/other parent when speaking with other warriors/servants, or even with dark cacao cookie himself.

Other servants had spoken badly about dark cacao cookie when he wasn't home or wasn't in the room. They'd tell you things that were just absolutely not true, things like how they always felt uncomfortable in his presence when he was in the room with them, and how he never laughed or even cracked a smile when other servants joked around with him or cracked a joke to at least get him to laugh. They'd try and tell you no matter how hard you tried, nothing to smoothen the rough edges of his soul jam. You, refused to believe it.

You'd catch yourself staring at dark cacao cookie from time to time, feeling your face turn hot just by glancing at him.. you've never felt this way about him before, so what's the difference? Dark cacao had caught on pretty fast.

You'd gracefully trotted down the long hallway to Dark Cacao's room. You gently knocked on the door and swiftly opened the door and gently shut it behind you, holding his breakfast In a tray dish.. the smell of cooked pancakes, drizzled in syrup with eggs and toast filled with room ;; it honestly made your stomach growl.

"Your majesty i— oh..-" you zip your mouth shut quickly upon realizing that dark cacao was still asleep. You giggled when spotting how he didn't take his crown off his head.

You quietly walked over to the night stand next to his bed and placed the breakfast on top, next, you gently removed the crown from dark cacao's head and placed it next to his food. You turned on your heel to walk out the door, suddenly feeling two pairs of strong hands yank you into his bed. You, reasonably so, yelped out in shock and surprise, colliding next to dark cacao's body.

"Don't go. Stay." Dark cacao whispered softly into the back of your neck, smirking slightly against your neck.. wrapping his strong arms around your waist. Nuzzling closer to your body. Sighing softly. "Your majesty.. i-i cant stay here.. in bed.. with you." You spoke softly, fiddling with your fingers a bit. "I have work to do— and I have to wake your son up—"

"Who cares about that, my grace. You've been overworking yourself, just relax." Dark cacao hummed, feeling himself slowly drift off back into dream realm. He was right, fuck he was so right. You've been constantly overworking yourself to the point of exhaustion and nearly have dropped 'dead' from the wave of worl constantly bugging you. "Your grace.."

"You have romantic interest in me, dont you?" Dark cacao asked tiredly, to which you flinched a bit at the question. "Don't lie, tell the truth." You sighed softly, and turned around to face him, nuzzling into him back.

"If I'm honest, will you judge me? If you don't feel the same, we can just forget about all of this." You began, Dark cacao cookie didn't say anything, listening fully.

"Yes, I do, your majesty. I've been trying push these feelings away for a few weeks now. Our status are completely different from eachother and it would be completely inappropriate if we had started dating or romantically seeing eachother. You're just the most perfect king I could ever ask for. You care about the cookies in your kingdoms well beings, you look after your son, you treat your warriors with respect, and so on. I mean.. how could I not fall for you, my king?" You quickly explained, fumbling over your words and avoided eye contact.

Dark cacao's eyes scanned you tiredly for a moment, before gently lifting your chin up with his hand and pressed his mouth against your cheek.

"We can talk about our relationship status later, just rest with me." Dark cacao laid his chin on your head, drifting off back to sleep.

You felt your eyes get heavy, and closed them gently, awaiting whatever dark cacao's response would be later on in the day.

[acourtofthought]

I agree with your post that Azriel was an asshole in that scene 100%. But I think making it seem like Elain didn’t have a choice whatsoever in that moment is also why people keep saying the fandom infantilizes her. She was wrong too for thinking it was okay to do that especially when Lucien was there. Again I agree that Azriel acted like an ass there, but Elain wasn’t forced to do anything with him. Let’s start treating her like the adult she is in this fandom. If you want Azriel to apologize to Elain, then Elain should apologize to Azriel too because she was aware she’s a mated female and still chose to accept that kiss.

I actually don't agree with this take and it sounds like you're confusing infantilizing a character with what is you wrongly thinking a female somehow owes a guy something. A guy who, even if she's confused and secretly wants him, has not at this time been giving him any mixed signals therefore her actions were not in any way "cheating" or disloyal.

How was Elain in the wrong for exploring something outside of one likely super serious commitment after she just got out of a super serious commitment when she has currently made no commitment to anyone?

I LOVE Lucien, my heart breaks for Lucien but I also realize how much Elain has gone through.

Lucien lost Jesminda but spent the next how many centuries having casual liaisons with others. Yet for some reason people think Elain has to go from an engagement with Graysen immediately into a super serious mating bond which is a forever sort of thing. Somehow she has to accept her bond with Lucien RIGHT NOW because .....? Why? Why is she not allowed to have a hot girl summer before maybe deciding to explore the thing someone else decided for her. Make no mistake, I am all here for Elucien's story and the reluctant soul mates / arranged marriage trope but that doesn't mean she's not entitled to take time to herself without worrying about Lucien's feelings. Did you forget everything she's been through in the last two years on their timeline? Lost her entire life in the human lands, rejected by her fiance, forced to become a species she grew up fearing, had to stab someone, lost her father and on top of that everyone seems to expect that she focus on Lucien. Everyone but Lucien of course because he's a complete green flag which is why he is her endgame. But she's allowed to be a 24 year old girl processing trauma even if that means having a meaningless fling just to see if she's ready to get back on the dating horse.

Rarely does the fandom fault Nesta for all but confessing her love to Cassian, being willing to die by Cassian's side then turning around and (without any sort of discretion) sleeping with MANY other males, something he was fully aware of. I also do not remember Sarah having Nesta apologize to him for sleeping with others.

Elain did not set out to hook up with Az that night, she thought everyone was asleep. And yes, Lucien was in the house but as far as we know he was also asleep and not aware which means she was a lot more discreet than Nesta had been.

Elain does not need to apologize to Az for anything because Az was fully aware she has a mating bond. They both chose not to discuss her mating bond, Az never asked her whether she planned on rejecting it which means he was fine moving forward without those answers. And just because she has a bond doesn't mean she owes Lucien loyalty. Again, Nesta suspected Cassian was something to her yet she still went on to hook up with multiple others.

Infantilizing Elain is when others act like she's the only person who never had a choice therefore she HAS to end up with Az, that somehow ending up with Lucien isn't a choice because "we need to respect what she wants" as if she's not a fictional character whose wants can change from one book to the next.

Acknowledging that Az hurt Elain in that moment and not the other way around is what happened and I think if you somehow think Elain needs to apologize to HIM than that is you infantilizing a 500 something year old guy with communication issues.

Edit thanks to @zenkindoflove :- Here's your apology from Elain, anon: She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I'm sorry." "You don't - Don't apologize he managed to say. "Never apolgize. It's I who should...." He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he'd brought to her expression. "Goodnight."

The 24 year old apologized to HIM when he called things a mistake after he was the one who left his hands on her neck then titled her head. And instead of saying, "It's I who should apologize, I'm so sorry" he just decided he couldn't handle telling her he was sorry.

[lady-belz]

Give Me A Good Ride: A Dirty Shorts Fic

Park Jimin x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

Prompt: Hearing him moan while going down on him has to be the most satisfying sound ever.

Author Note: I may be slightly unhinged. Lol!

Story notes: Just Shameless Smut

A low groan slipped from his lips as his body sank into the cushions on the couch.

”That feels good.” he whispered as you massaged the muscles in his shoulders.

He had come home from working in the studio all day, feeling like a lead balloon. It had been a particular grueling session and he just wanted to sleep and forget the day ever happened.

You arrived home from your own work about a half hour after and spotted him sitting on the couch, head back, eyes closed. You knew he wasn’t asleep.

”Bad day?” you asked, slipping up behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders.

”Long day.” he mumbled, not opening his eyes. You started squeezing his shoulder muscles and he groaned at the feeling.

”Let me help you relax then.” you replied, moving one hand to the muscle at the back of his neck.

”Okay.” he agreed, sitting up slightly to remove his shirt. It never failed to make you hot and bothered, seeing his muscled and toned frame in all its naked glory. Jimin was a fine specimen of man and he was all yours.

You stepped away while he turned over and laid himself flat on his stomach. You made your way around the couch and straddled his thick thighs, staring hungrily at his naked back, his moon phase tattoo calling you like a beacon. You can’t count the number of times you traced your tongue over that tattoo, driving him to distraction to the point he would grab you and make fierce passionate love to you until you were both exhausted.

Shaking those thoughts from your head, there would be time for that later, you ran your palms hard across his back and shoulder muscles, making him groan in pleasure, the sound shooting straight into your core and making you throb. You bit your lip.

You continued your ministrations before you scooted backwards down his legs, your hands moving to his fantastic ass and squeezing those globes hard. He gasped in surprise, not expecting it and making you smirk. You tugged on the belt loop of his jeans.

”Take these off.” you requested, sliding completely off his legs. He didn’t argue, didn’t complain, just got to his feet and quickly removed them, revealing the fact that he had decided to go commando that day. “Fuck, Jimin!” you moaned, unable to help yourself.

A naked Jimin was a danger to your sanity Jimin… and he knew it, the grin on his face attesting to that.

You couldn't control what you did next if you tried. You stepped into his personal space and yanked him into a kiss. He gave as good as he got, biting your bottom lip before dipping his tongue into your mouth, making you moan. You ran your hands over his naked and toned chest before shoving him back, breaking your kiss as he landed sitting down on the couch.

Before he could catch his breath, you were on your knees between his muscular thighs, mouth wrapped around his cock. You relaxed your throat muscles, taking him all the way down and the moan that fell from his lips was the most satisfying sound you'd ever heard in your life.

Just knowing you could reduce him to that sound? It always made you hot.

Saliva coated his skin in a thin layer as your head bobbed up and down on his thick and pulsing flesh and his hand slid into your hair, grabbing on tightly and forcing your head down. He always did try to choke you – but he could never accomplish it, your gag reflex was non-existent.

“Fuck!” Jimin cursed, head falling back into the couch cushions as you sucked harder. You freed a hand from one of his thighs to gently caress his balls and he bucked up into your mouth.

His moans and gasps of pleasure were music to your ears as you let him fuck your mouth, chasing his own pleasure.

“Oh f-fuck!” he groaned loudly, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrust hard one last time, flooding your mouth with cum. You didn't waste a single drop, swirling your tongue all along his thickness as you slowly pulled away. He shivered from oversensitivity while you pulled off with a soft pop, licking your lips. You sat back on your heels, watching him struggle to catch his breath as he came down from his high.

He slowly raised his head after some time and pinned you with the darkest look he'd ever given you and you knew you were in for a wild ride. You got to your feet and stripped out of your clothes a few seconds before he yanked you into his lap, kissing you hard...

-End-

[moodymelanist]

Freak Like Me Chapter Three

happy day 5 of @sjmromanceweek everyone. it's time for our favorite trope: making Cassian beg.

Summary: Nesta works Cassian over.

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Cassian

Cassian was in a little bit of a daze on his way home, somehow managing to drive back to Columbia Heights and make it into his apartment safely. He wasn’t so scatterbrained that he was going to forget to text Nesta back, though, so once he’d locked the door behind him he pulled out his phone and checked in like she’d asked.

Cassian Hernández, 8:34 PM

Just got home

Nesta Archeron, 8:37 PM

Good. I’ll call you on Wednesday?

Cassian Hernández, 8:38 PM

ok :)

Nesta Archeron, 8:40 PM

Cute. Have a good night.

Cassian Hernández, 8:40 PM

You too

Cassian smiled when Nesta liked his message, but once he realized their conversation was over, he was at a bit of a loss for what to do for the rest of the night. Jacking off again was pretty much a given, but that wouldn’t kill all his time for the rest of the night.

In the end, he ended up jacking off twice, all the possibilities of what Nesta would do to him simply too much for him to handle. It was worth having to remake his bed before he went to sleep for the night.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

After work on Tuesday, Cassian found himself at yet another after work happy hour. Nesta wasn’t here to keep him company, but he figured catching up with some of his best friends was a pretty good consolation prize.

“Hey Cass,” Rhys said once Cassian was close enough, standing up from the booth to grab Cassian’s hand and give him a one-armed hug. He had on a crisp white button-up and a pair of perfectly tailored navy slacks as though he’d come right from Deloitte’s office; knowing him, he probably had. “Been a minute.”

“Good to see you too, Rhys,” Cassian said back with a roll of his eyes. He returned Rhys’ hug briefly before turning to clap Azriel on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Hey, Az.”

“Hey,” Azriel replied, raising his beer in greeting. He shifted to make room so Cassian could sit next to him and Cassian slid in gratefully. “How’s it going?”

Their friend group tried to meet up once a month when they could, but Amren was away on a work trip and Mor was away for fun, so that left the three of them. Their plans were never as elaborate as Mor or Amren’s so they usually settled with their usual happy hour and pool night at their favorite bar. 

Once they got some food in their stomachs, they paid their server, grabbed their drinks, and migrated over to the pool table in the back room. Someone had just finished a game, so they took a few minutes to rerack all the pool balls and organize them for a game of three before they got started.

“So,” Cassian began once he’d taken his shot. “What’s new?”

Azriel took his shot next before he answered. “Nothing new for me.”

“How’s Eris?” Rhys asked, reaching for the chalk so he could rub some on the top of his cue stick.

“He’s good,” Azriel responded, a tiny little smile breaking through his otherwise stoic expression. He and Eris had been dating for a few months now, and clearly things were going well. “He wants to go away for Valentine’s Day weekend.”

“Perks of dating a lawyer,” Cassian told him with a grin. Eris worked in one of those fancy offices on K Street, and he briefly wondered if he and Nesta knew each other before forcing himself to focus on the conversation in front of him. “Where are you guys gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel answered, shrugging. “Probably someplace warm. We’re both tired of freezing our asses off.”

“Amen to that, Az,” Rhys chimed in. He took a sip of his beer before finally taking his shot, and then it was Cassian’s turn. “Speaking of dating… I think I met someone.”

“You think?” Cassian took his shot and then turned to look at Rhys with a teasing smirk. “What, is she imaginary? Or does she go to a different school?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rhys retorted over Cassian and Azriel’s combined laughter. “No, she’s very real. She’s an artist.”

“An artist, huh?” Azriel asked. He caught Cassian’s eye just long enough for Cassian to tell they weren’t done teasing Rhys. “Surprised that didn’t make all your gold digger alarms go off.”

“She’s not like that,” Rhys immediately defended his new crush. She must have really been something for him to defend her so fast. “She runs a nonprofit teaching art to underprivileged kids, and she freelances on the side.”

“Very noble of her,” Cassian replied, grinning, “but I’m surprised you didn’t walk into your first date with a prenup ready to be signed.”

“You know Cass, you’re talking a lot of shit for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since…” Rhys trailed off for dramatic effect, pretending to count on his fingers. “Shit, actually, I don’t even know.”

“Fuck you, I dated Dierdre last year and you know that,” Cassian fired back.

“Cass, that was 2023,” Azriel said slowly, like he was talking to a little kid. Cassian rolled his eyes at how hard Rhys was starting to laugh; he supposed it was his turn on the chopping block. “It’s 2025 now.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Cassian said back. “But I just went on a date a few weeks ago, thank you very much.”

“At least you’re out there, buddy,” Rhys responded, laughing as Cassian half-heartedly tried to hit him on the arm. “I’m sure your person will come!”

Cassian rolled his eyes, doing his best to seem chill even though internally he was anything but chill thinking about the truth of his situation. He wasn’t about to get into the specifics of his arrangement with Nesta and how she was essentially leading him around by the dick when she wasn’t his girlfriend; his friends weren’t assholes, but he wasn’t about to get into his deepest, darkest desires in a bar in Adams Morgan. Rhys and Azriel could enjoy their teasing, and Cassian would have to just suck it up. “We can’t all be as lucky as you, Rhysie.”

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Teasing aside, it was good to catch up with Rhys and Az, and it took his mind off waiting around for Nesta to finally reach out. He made it home in one piece and managed not to rub one out for the first night in at least a week, which was a perverse accomplishment he’d keep to himself, thanks.

When the next morning finally rolled around, Cassian felt like a kid who knew his mom had gotten him something good for Christmas but he wasn’t exactly sure what was inside the wrapping paper. Nesta hadn’t specified what time she would call him, so he was just riding the high of knowing he’d talk to her at some point today rather than freaking out. 

He assumed she’d call him after work, and his intuition turned out to be correct; she called him while he was cooking dinner and he was more than happy to put down his wooden spoon to pick up his phone instead.

“Hello?” Cassian said, already smiling. He knew he should probably pull it together when it came to Nesta, but he really didn’t want to.

“Hi,” Nesta said back. She sounded like she was laying on something soft — he could hear her moving some fabric around, and he thought it was maybe her comforter or a nice, soft blanket. He liked the thought of her all wrapped up and cozy. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“No, I’m just cooking some dinner,” he told her. He eyed the flame on his stove and turned it down just a little bit. “How are you?”

“Hungrier, now that I’m talking to you,” she responded dryly, pulling a laugh out of him without even trying. “What’s for dinner?”

“One of those one pot chicken and rice recipes I saw online,” he answered. He gave the food one last stir before stepping back to sit at his kitchen island. “It’s my first time making it, so I hope it turns out okay.”

Cassian could tell Nesta was rolling her eyes at his attempt at being modest. “Save it, Bobby Flay. You know I don’t like you selling yourself short.”

“Okay, okay, I know my way around the kitchen,” he admitted. He was the unofficial chef of his friend group, but he wasn’t about to give her more fuel for the fire right now. “Just say the word and I’ll cook for you anytime, sweetheart.”

“Good to know,” she replied. “But speaking of saying the word…”

He laughed again. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“Gold star for you, Cassian,” Nesta responded, just on the edge of being patronizing. “What time are you coming over on Friday?”

“Maybe around 6:30 or 7?” Cassian offered. His office closed an hour earlier on Fridays, but he didn’t want to even think about risking being late considering DC traffic. “If that works for you?”

“Mhmmm… let’s do 7,” she told him. He could hear her typing, and he wondered if she was updating the calendar invite he was very sure she kept. “Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily, wondering now how much time she’d scheduled for him. An hour? Two? Longer? He supposed he’d finally find out in two days. “Anything else?”

“Greedy,” she said without much heat.

“You know I can’t help it,” he said back. It was maybe a little too honest, but she’d had his number within the span of drinks and an appetizer, so he’d left his shame behind him that same night.

“Fine. Don’t touch your dick more than necessary until I see you,” she told him casually. “I have plans for it.”

“Okay,” he breathed, his cock twitching in his pants despite his best efforts to stay calm. I should’ve jerked off again while I had the chance, he thought, but who was he kidding? It was more than worth giving up masturbating if it meant she’d lead him around by the dick, and wow, that was a fun thought. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“There’s a good boy,” she practically purred into the phone. “I’ll see you on Friday. Have a good night.”

Nesta hung up without waiting for his response. Cassian didn’t know how long he sat there thinking about Nesta calling him a good boy like that, but it was long enough that he jumped when the timer on his phone went off reminding him to check on his dinner.

His one pot meal came out a little crispier than he’d planned, but it was a worthy sacrifice. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Thursday passed in what felt like a blur, and once Cassian walked out of the office on Friday, he could hardly stop fidgeting. He had so much nervous energy that he had to do a quick workout once he made it back to his building, running through a shorter, less intense version of his usual full-body circuit. He didn’t know exactly what Nesta had in store for him tonight, and disappointing her was not an option. 

Once he sweated it out for forty-five minutes, he felt a little bit better. He left the gym in his building and headed upstairs to his apartment, already thinking about the nice, long shower he was going to take. He didn’t want to assume anything, but it was always best to be prepared; he took some time to clean up the hair around his dick and thoroughly scrub every crack and crevice on his body in case Nesta wanted to explore. He even made sure his fingernails were carefully filed down before he moisturized his face and body, and he took a few minutes to fluff out his hair properly before heading into his closet to figure out what to wear. 

Nesta had said to wear something comfortable, so Cassian figured he couldn’t go wrong with some of his nicer athleisure — this stuff was usually too nice to wear to the gym, so at least he could finally put it to good use. He looked through his dresser drawers until he found a white shirt and navy joggers, and he pulled on some socks and matching white sneakers to go with it. He didn’t know what to expect tonight, but hopefully this would fit his needs. 

Once he was dressed, Cassian made sure to put on deodorant and a little bit of cologne so he’d smell good without being overpowering. He still had about half an hour before he could reasonably leave, and while he’d normally make himself something to eat for dinner, he was a little too jittery to try and put some real food in his stomach. Instead, he grabbed two granola bars from his stash and plopped on the couch to try and distract himself with something on TV, half-paying attention to the newest episode of Abbott Elementary while he ate his snacks. 

Eventually, the time finally came for him to make the drive over to Nesta’s place, and Cassian hopped up like he’d been stung when he saw the time. He took several deep breaths before grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet and stepping outside of his apartment, and then he was on his way. He couldn’t stop bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he maneuvered DC traffic, but he knew he’d much rather get all his anxieties out now before he came face to face with Nesta. 

Realistically, he knew he was probably going to have a good time. He was more than attracted enough to Nesta, and she’d said repeatedly that she liked him and wanted to do this. He didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, but he did know he wouldn’t have to worry about pretending to want to be in charge, so at least he had that going for him. Nesta wouldn’t laugh at him, or make fun of him, or say he was a freak for wanting what he did — at least, not in a way that they wouldn’t enjoy. 

Cassian knew it would be more than fine, but that didn’t stop him from worrying a little bit anyway. If he wanted to really enjoy himself tonight, though, he was going to have to get his shit together before he saw Nesta, so once he’d parked and was waiting for the elevator to her floor, he tried to mentally hype himself up a little bit. 

It’s gonna be fine, he tried to tell himself. She likes you. She wants to make you beg until you cry. It’s gonna be more than fine. 

It worked a little bit, but eventually the elevator dinged on the fifth floor and it was game time. Cassian walked down the hallway, and once he reached Nesta’s apartment, he wiped his hands on his pants and took one last deep breath before he gently knocked on the door.

“Hey,” Nesta said once she opened the door. She had on a white button-up shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and instead of her usual braided coronet, half of her hair was pulled back from her face. She looked so beautiful with her hair down it was a miracle he was able to focus on what she was actually saying to him, and he managed to get it together just in time to hear her add, “Glad you made it. Come in.”

“Thanks,” Cassian said back, perking up like a dog with a bone at her choice of words. Her apartment looked the same as the last time he’d been here, though this time he noticed what looked like a Kindle sitting on her coffee table right next to an almost-empty glass of water. “Is that a Kindle? What are you reading?”

“Nosy,” she replied without any heat. She locked the door behind them before giving his sneakers a pointed look, and as he removed his sneakers, she added, “Yes, it’s a Kindle. Maybe if you’re good I’ll tell you what’s in my library.”

“I can do that,” he responded, grinning. He put his sneakers on her shoe rack and shrugged out of his coat before asking, “Where do you want me?”

She eyed him for a moment before beckoning him over to the kitchen. Despite her open floor plan, he hadn’t spent much time looking over here, but he liked the ample cabinet space and large island in lieu of a proper dining room table. “Wash your hands.”

Cassian draped his coat over one of her barstools before walking over to her sink, taking a few pumps of her floral-scented soap so he could wash his hands thoroughly. Nesta passed him one of her dish towels so he could dry his hands and he turned to look at her expectantly once he was done. 

“Did you eat before you got here?” Nesta asked, her gaze turning considering. He felt like she was staring straight through him as he leaned back against her kitchen counter, the fridge a cool wall to his right. 

“I had two granola bars,” Cassian answered sheepishly. At her unimpressed look, he felt compelled to defend himself. “I know, I know. I was just, ah…a little nervous.” 

“Nervous about what?” she questioned in that direct way of hers. 

“I didn’t know what to expect,” he told her honestly. He could feel the beginnings of a blush creeping across his cheeks, but he suspected it would only be the first of many tonight so he didn’t fight it too hard. “I was thinking about a lot of. Um. Possibilities.”

“Were you now?” she responded, the hint of a smirk appearing on her full lips as she took a few steps closer to him. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. It was almost hard to focus with her standing so close and looking at him like that, but somehow he managed to add, “I don’t eat much when I get nervous.”

Nesta tsked. “Big guy like you? We can’t have that, Cassian.”

“I— I guess not,” Cassian answered, nearly swallowing his tongue when she stepped so close to him that their fronts were pressed together. All the blood in his body rushed south so quickly it was a miracle he didn’t sway on his feet, and even if he’d wanted to move, he was pressed against her countertop with nowhere to run. 

“You said you’re good in the kitchen,” she said seemingly out of nowhere. She reached up onto her toes, and he had to hold back a whimper as she rocked right against his rapidly hardening cock. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he managed to say back. He was going to spontaneously combust or something, holy shit. “I am.”

“Why don’t we put those skills to good use, hmm?” she asked. He was mostly sure it was a rhetorical question, but that didn’t stop him from nodding like he was a goddamned bobble head. “We’ll put some food in your stomach, and then…”

Cassian choked on his next breath as Nesta managed to get a hand in between their bodies, her slender hand palming his cock through his pants before rubbing up and down a few times. “Nesta…”

“…And then we’ll see about the other big guy,” she finished. She squeezed his cock before stepping to the side to open one of her cabinets and pass him a wooden cutting board. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed as soon as he remembered how to form words. “Yeah. Okay.”

Cassian waited until Nesta had taken a seat at her island before he turned to open her fridge. It was decently stocked, and he pulled out a few things to try and assemble something that would pass muster. He somehow managed to make a passable charcuterie board with some meat, grapes, and cheese without losing his mind too much, despite his dick being distractingly hard and Nesta just being distracting, period. 

“Do you,” Cassian tried to say after a few minutes. Speaking coherently was harder than he’d anticipated, so he swallowed and tried again. “Do you have any crackers?”

He hadn’t made a ton of charcuterie boards in his life, but crackers tended to be on all of them. 

“No,” Nesta answered. “I hate dealing with the crumbs. Are you finished with that?”

“Yeah,” he replied, reaching out to subtly push one of the cheese cubes back into place. “I think so.”

“Looks good,” she told him. She leaned over the counter and reached over to snag the cheese cube he’d just pushed into place, keeping her eyes locked on him as she popped it into her mouth and made a satisfied little noise. “Mhmm. That’s good.”

“Thank you,” he managed to respond. His brain was bouncing between her saying something nice and the sound she’d just made like some kind of horny pinball machine, and he couldn’t pick which thing was sexier so he just gave up and decided on both. 

“You’re welcome. Now come on,” Nesta said, motioning for him to pick up the board he’d made. “We don’t have all night. Let’s go.”

Cassian dutifully picked up his board and followed Nesta down the hall and into the second door on the left, revealing the guest room she’d mentioned previously. It was half office and half guest room; there was a daybed with two bookshelves on either side on one wall, and a fancy desk and ergonomic chair on the other. He wasn’t entirely certain he’d fit laying down on that, but maybe that was the point. 

“I’ll take that,” Nesta told him once he’d looked his fill. He handed over the board and waited for her to tell him what else to do. “Shut the door.”

“Okay,” Cassian agreed. While she moved toward the bed, he turned and gently shut the door behind them; he didn’t bother to lock it considering they were the only ones here. 

When he turned back around, Nesta was sitting on the edge of the bed with the board directly to her left. He wanted to go to her immediately, but he wanted to be good even more, so he just stood there and let her look him over. 

“Come over here and sit,” she said after a minute or two. He crossed the room in a few long strides and was about to climb on the daybed when she tsked, and he froze the second his knee touched the comforter. “No. On the ground.”

Cassian slowly backed away from the bed and sank to the ground. Nesta handed him a pillow from off the bed and he took it, shoving it under his knees as he got as close to her legs as he dared. 

Turned out, he was feeling pretty daring. His face was basically pressing against her denim-covered thigh, and he couldn’t drag up an ounce of shame about it. She didn’t seem to mind, though, so he wouldn’t stress out about it. 

“Comfortable?” she asked once he’d stopped fidgeting. 

“Yes,” he answered, turning his face up so he could make proper eye contact. 

Cassian was by no means a small man, but the way Nesta was looking down at him made him feel like he was two feet tall in the best way possible. Looking at her was like staring directly into the sun, but he didn’t dare avert his gaze with how intensely she was staring at him. 

“You doing okay?” she questioned more pointedly. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. Then his brain caught up a little, and he realized she was trying to check in with him properly. “I’m good. I mean, I’m green.”

“Smart boy,” she replied, reaching down to run her hand over his hair. “Now open up.”

Cassian’s lips parted automatically just in time for Nesta to feed him a grape. It was perfectly firm and sweet, and she watched him chew on it for a few seconds before she said anything. 

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Nesta said, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 

Cassian’s swallow was so loud there was no way she didn’t hear it. “Thank you.”

“Was that so hard?” she told him. He shook his head no and she added, “Exactly. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He was a little curious what she would do to him if she had to tell him again, but the part of him that was so desperate to be good absolutely refused to even entertain the idea. So he just nodded and waited patiently for her to feed him the next bite of food, which turned out to be a little cube of cheddar.

“Thank you,” he murmured once he was finished chewing and swallowing. 

Cassian kneeled there and let Nesta feed him until he lost track of time. He could’ve been there for twenty minutes or twenty hours; he didn’t know, and he certainly wasn’t complaining. His focus had narrowed to the feel of her fingers pressing various food between his lips, to the satisfied expression in her eyes every time he bit down, to the bite of his knees digging into the floor despite the pillow there. 

She had him hook, line, and fucking sinker. He was more than happy about that.

“Last one,” Nesta eventually murmured. She guided what was apparently the last grape between his lips and her fingers lingered for a moment, somehow making his head spin even more than it already was. 

“Thank you,” Cassian whispered once he was finished. He didn’t know how it was possible to be this turned on just by her hand-feeding him, but holy shit was this in the top five hottest things that had ever happened to him.

Who was he kidding — this was definitely the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. She hadn’t even touched his dick properly yet, and he was two seconds away from panting like a dog and begging her to. He didn’t know how he was going to keep it together for whatever else she had in store for him, but Jesus Christ he was going to have to. 

“Why don’t you come up here and sit next to me,” Nesta said, stroking his hair again before she let go of him. “Go slow. I don’t need you falling all over yourself even more than you already are.”

Cassian’s cheeks were on fire as he slowly got to his feet, shaking out his legs a little bit after he’d been kneeling all that time. He had to hold back a sigh of relief as the blood came back to his legs, but judging by the amused look in Nesta’s eye, he could’ve just let the sound out. Something to file away for later, he told himself. 

“Take off your shirt and pants,” she told him after a few seconds. “And fold your clothes, for fuck’s sake. I’m sure your mother didn’t raise you to be a slob.”

“Okay,” he agreed, trying really hard not to cross his wires between his mommy issues and Nesta and failing miserably. It wasn’t really working, but he had other things to worry about right now, so he carefully took off his clothes and folded them like she’d told him to. “Where should I…?”

“The chair’s fine,” she answered. She sat back on her hands and watched him do as she asked, and he could feel her eyes lingering on him as he turned to neatly place his clothes on her chair. “Stand there for a second?”

Cassian turned to face her and did his best not to fidget as Nesta looked her fill, those gray-blue eyes sweeping over every inch of him with startling intensity. He could feel her gaze on him like a weight, as if she were touching him with those perfectly manicured fingers instead of merely looking him over, and when her eyes lingered on his hard cock tenting his underwear for several long moments, he had to start thinking about the Ravens and the Commanders losing their respective games to stop himself from coming on the spot.

“I see all that gym time is paying off,” Nesta told him after what felt like an eternity. He thought it was a compliment, but the slightly patronizing edge to her words had another blush creeping across his face. “Lose the underwear.”

Cassian’s hands shook a little as he followed Nesta’s command, and he folded his black briefs before putting them on top of the rest of his clothes. He was so turned on he hoped she wouldn’t keep him standing there much longer; his cock was leaking so much he might make a puddle on her nice floors, and who knew what she’d do to him then.

He kind of wanted to find out, but given the way her eyes were glued to his cock, he didn’t think he’d get a chance to, and he was one hundred percent okay with that.

“Come on,” Nesta eventually said. Her eyes flicked back up to his before she patted the space to her right a few times. “Come sit.”

Cassian took the few steps between him and Nesta and sat down on the bed next to her, trying not to hunch in on himself the way he wanted to. She was still fully clothed, so he tried to focus on that and how hot he thought it was instead of his slowly returning nerves.

Nesta eyed him up for a second before moving to grab the empty wooden board and put it on the ground. Once the bed was clear, she turned back to him and said, “Lay down for me.”

“Do you think I’m gonna fit?” Cassian asked, looking down at his long legs and back up at Nesta.

“Did I ask you if you would fit, or did I tell you to lay down?” she fired back without missing a beat. 

“Yep,” he squeaked out, already shifting so he could lie down. He’d come way too far to risk anything that would make her not want to touch his dick, so he mentally shook himself and grabbed a pillow so he could make himself more comfortable.

“Was that so hard?” she questioned once he was flat on his back. His legs were just the tiniest bit too short for the bed, so they just awkwardly hung off the edge.

“N–oh,” he replied, his voice shooting up an octave as she swung a leg over his middle and straddled him with no warning.

“What’s the matter?” she asked innocently once she was settled on his lap. She was sitting right on top of his cock, and he hissed when she reached down so she could pull it out from under her. “Don’t tell me I’m too heavy for you.”

“No, I basically bench you as a warm—fuck,” he swore right in the middle of his answer, losing his entire train of thought when she tightened her grip on him. He had to summon all of his strength not to buck his hips and risk sending her flying, and judging by the little smirk on her face, she knew that perfectly well.

“A ‘warm fuck,’” she repeated, laughing softly. He would’ve laughed with her if it weren’t for the way she still had her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around his cock. “That must be a new kind of exercise. Speaking of exercise… you don’t mind if I take you for a whirl, do you?”

“I think you can do whatever you want,” Cassian answered, a little dazed from the way she was perfectly handling his dick. 

“Gold star for you,” Nesta told him. Her grip on his cock tightened until it was just on the edge of being painful, and he couldn’t help but groan when she finally started to move, even though her pace was torturously slow.

“Is that the only thing I get?” he asked, panting just a little. 

“Do you think you deserve more than that?” she retorted. 

He nearly swallowed his tongue when she let go of his cock long enough to lick her palm and bring her hand back down. “Fuck. Uh. No?”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” she replied, clearly fucking with him. She picked up the pace just a little bit and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning. “Try that again.”

“Uh…” he trailed off. It was hard to think between her staring down at him like that and his cock in her hand, but he had to say something. “Whatever you think I — ah, God — deserve.”

“There you go,” Nesta said, really starting to pick up the pace now. He was leaking like a faucet, and between that and Nesta’s spit, everything was starting to feel a little too good. 

“Please,” Cassian moaned. He didn’t even know what he was begging for, but in his mind, there was nothing else to do but beg. 

“Please what?” she asked, clearly delighting in his suffering. 

“Please let me come,” he answered in a rush of words. He was torn between squeezing his eyes shut to try and hold off longer or watching her, but in the end it was impossible to really look away. She just looked way too good on top of him. 

“You know,” Nesta began, drawing it out. Cassian was holding on for dear life now, his nails digging into the mattress so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he tore through the fabric as he tried to hold off. “I technically never said you couldn’t, but… I guess you’ve earned it.”

“Really?” Cassian panted, questioning her like a dumbass. He really needed to stop doing that.

“You’re such a fucking masochist,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. She was really pumping him now, and every time she jerked her wrist upward she managed to perfectly hit a spot just under the head of his cock that was damn near making him go cross eyed from how good it felt. “Hurry up and come before I change my mind.”

“Fuck, fuck, Nesta,” he groaned, his hips bucking into her hand one last time as he finally let go. His vision went a little fuzzy around the edges as he finally came, a choked gasp escaping him as the pleasure hit him. It was overwhelmingly good, so strong that his toes curled, and Nesta wrung every last drop out of him until he turned into a whimpering mess from the overstimulation. 

Nesta thankfully took pity on him and eventually brought her hand to a stop, grabbing a towel from somewhere — under the pillow, maybe — to wipe her hand and his stomach off. “Take some deep breaths, baby. Just like that. There’s a good boy.”

Cassian took in one deep breath and then another, his heart rate eventually slowing to something approaching normal the longer he laid there. If he’d felt a little dazed the last time he saw Nesta, it was nothing compared to how he felt now; he couldn’t conjure up a single thought besides how good it felt to be touched like this, his mind buzzing pleasantly as he just focused on breathing and the feel of Nesta’s hands on him. 

“I’m going to get a washcloth and some water, okay?” she told him after a few minutes, her voice low and soothing. She shifted slowly until she was off of him entirely, and he missed her comforting weight immediately. “I’ll be back in a second. Keep breathing for me.”

Cassian barely even registered Nesta walking away, and by the time he properly realized he was laying on the bed by himself, she was already back. The washcloth was warm and her touch was gentle as she wiped him clean, and she made him sit up for a few moments so he could drink from the glass of water she’d gotten for him. “You good?”

“So good,” he answered, still a little dazed from the enormity of what had just happened. 

“Okay,” she replied with a tiny, private smile. She put the empty glass on one of the emptier shelves of the bookcase and tossed the washcloth into a tiny hamper in the corner of the room that he hadn’t noticed upon first glance. “Lay back down. I’m not done with you yet.”

Cassian did as she asked, pleasantly surprised when Nesta maneuvered them onto a cleaner, drier area of the bed and laid down with him. She gently pushed and prodded at him until he was half on top of her, his face perfectly pressed into the side of her neck, and when she started to run her fingers over his curls, he couldn’t have held his eyes open even if he’d wanted to. He made a happy little sound as her other hand drifted down to wrap around his back, her palm just cool enough to feel good against his overheated skin, and shifted his arms so they were properly cuddling. 

“You did so good for me,” Nesta murmured into his hair after a few minutes of laying there in soft silence, her voice warm. 

“Yeah?” Cassian mumbled back. He felt like he was simultaneously flying high and ready to sleep for ten hours. “I did?”

“Mhmmm,” she told him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. His skin tingled where she’d put her lips and he had to fight to hold back the full-body shiver that threatened to overtake him. “You were such a good boy. Very… eager.”

“If you say so,” he managed after a second. Trying to think straight right now was like trying to hold onto water, so he just gave up on it. Nesta could do plenty of thinking for both of them.  

“Lucky for you,” she replied, “I do say so.”

He laughed softly. “Think that makes me the luckiest guy around.”

“No arguments there from me,” Nesta said softly. “Now shhhh. Just relax for a little bit.”

“Okay,” Cassian said back, and then fell silent. Nesta kept running her fingers all over him, and if he was a cat, he knew he’d one hundred percent be purring right now. He was so comfortable laying here in her arms that he wished he could stay here forever, wrapped in her warmth and her reassurance that he was good, but he knew it would eventually have to end.

For now, though, Cassian could at least enjoy it while he had it. He snuggled further into her embrace and left his eyes shut, more than happy to let Nesta block out the world for as long as he could stand to let her. 

Eventually Cassian felt less like he was floating through reality and more like he was standing on solid ground, so he turned his face to try and look at Nesta properly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Nesta replied casually, like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down, dick first. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered after a moment. He still felt amazing, but things had faded down to a pleasurable buzz and he could actually string more than a few words together. “I’m feeling pretty good, actually.”

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. This close, her eyes looked incredibly blue, and he had to force himself to stay focused despite how pretty they were. “Me too.”

“But you didn’t…?” he asked, trailing off as he realized she hadn’t finished. At least, not that he’d noticed, and he tended to notice those kinds of things when he wasn’t experiencing one of the best orgasms of his life. 

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time,” she told him. Her pleasant expression turned decidedly more wicked as she added, “Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance.”

Cassian’s brain couldn’t keep up with all the possibilities suddenly unfolding before him. “Yeah?”

“Down, boy,” Nesta replied with a fond roll of her eyes. Cassian just grinned up at her, far too excited about the prospect of making her come to be embarrassed. “We’ll talk about it.”

“Okay,” he responded, still smiling. He probably looked a little insane, but if he could give her even a drop of what she’d given him tonight, he was allowed to be a little insane about it. “I’ll be patient.”

“Of course you will,” she told him. She patted his head like he was her pet, and hey, that was… a thought. “For now, let’s get you dressed.”

Cassian recognized the beginnings of a dismissal when he heard one, and even though he knew all good things had to come to an end, that didn’t stop him from holding back a pout as he slowly rolled off Nesta and collected his bearings. His clothes were easy enough to find and put back on, and he’d left his keys, phone, and wallet inside his coat pocket. 

He hated how easy it was to leave, but that was part of the game, too. 

“Let me know when you get home,” Nesta said once they’d left her apartment and started walking to the elevator. She’d put her slippers back on and he thought it was the most adorable thing in the world to watch her pad down the hallway in them, but he valued his dick way too much to say that kind of thing out loud. 

“I know the drill,” Cassian eventually said back. If he was dragging his feet just a little bit to extend his time in her presence, that was between him and the hallway carpet. “I guess I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“You will,” she confirmed. They reached the end of the hallway despite his best efforts, and she reached out to press the elevator button when they were close enough. “I’ll call you on Wednesday, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling. He just couldn’t help it as far as she was concerned.

“Yes, Cassian,” she answered. The sound of his name on her mouth was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, and judging by the knowing look on her face, she knew it. “You can just assume we have a standing phone call on Wednesdays.”

“Does it come with an itinerary?” he joked, pleased as hell to pull a soft chuckle out of her. She had such a pretty laugh that he wanted to hear it all the time. 

He wanted to do a lot of things with her all the time. It was starting to become a serious problem. 

“You can pick the icebreaker,” she told him dryly. 

“Nah, that’s all you,” he responded, laughing quietly. It felt good to go back and forth with her, but he knew his place here. “You’re the boss.”

The look she gave him right as the elevator doors opened damn near made his toes curl, and his lips parted in slight surprise as she reached up to tug a loose curl back into place. “Smart man. Have a good night.”

Cassian’s scalp tingled pleasantly his entire ride home. 

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[babybearnation]

polyam!lance/mick + omegaverse = general soft/smutty headcanons

(i blame my omegaverse obsession on you btw /lh)

you're welcome lol <3

omega!lance stroll x alpha!male!reader x omega!mick schumacher

smut below cut

fluff:

lance smells like blueberries and mick smells like cornflowers, a concoction that never fails to make you feel loved, safe and happy

a perfect pair of cuddle bugs, these two can always be found in each other's arms or clinging to you - it's like they have a cuddle quota they must fill every day

they were very nervous at the start of their relationship with you but you courted them so sweetly and were so patient with their anxieties that they couldn't help but fall hard and fast

neither of them can sleep without having some sort of physical contact with you - you usually end up trapped with lance on your left side, mick on your right, and their hands link over your tummy or back (depending on how you sleep - these two make sleeping on your side impossible)

both mick and lance get jealous over you interacting with other omegas but they react in different ways - mick gets quiet and teary but he always speaks to you about his feelings whereas lance gets angry and bitter, lashing out at you before he bursts into tears

lance is very catlike in that, should he feel inclined to, he'll walk up to you or mick and just casually start nuzzling his head against your skin, desperate for kisses and cuddles and affection

mick is what many deem to be the perfect omega - he's sweet and quiet and patient, but he's also very playful and fun and he's not above indulging lance in his chaos even when he's tired

these two have no qualms whatsoever about parading you around and showing you off to people - after all, you are theirs and they don't care who finds that annoying/irksome

smut (bottom!lance, switch!mick & top!reader):

lance and mick's scents always combine to create the most potent candle-esque scent ever when you three have sex and it's damn near impossible to forget it once you've smelt it, especially if your scent is thrown into the mix as well

lance is clingy during sex, his legs wrapped around the head or waist of the person in between them, but mick is perfectly content to sit to one side and watch, as much as lance begs for his touch

their first heats with you were intense but you made sure to take such good care of them with the help of the other omega and it made any and all heats the easiest to deal with because of it

pre-heat jealousy actually hits mick harder than it does lance. lance stays pretty much the same, if a little bit snippier, but mick fully snaps at people, threatening to hurt them if they get too close to you

both have a thing for marking you up but lance goes for scratching whilst mick goes for soft love bites - they both go absolutely feral any time you mark them up, though (the harder, the better)

even in heat, neither of them can last very long - the two of them are just such sleepy boys that it only takes 2-3 rounds for them to be satiated, both in and out of heat (whilst this can sometimes make your ruts harder, you never let them feel bad about it)

they require so much aftercare its insane - you'll have to somehow clean them up, get some water & food in them and (if they choose to put clothes back on) redress them all whilst they cling to each other sleepily and refuse to help you

mick gets shy post-heat as he doesn't like all the stares he gets but lance shines so brightly when he's covered in your marks and has a limp because of your knot that it slowly starts to rub off on mick as well

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[holyhaech]

6 pls with renjun 😈😈😈🐻🐻🐻🐻🍓🍓🍓🍓👅👅👅👅

letting go

f!reader x ravenclaw!huang renjun (angst, renjun's an asshole..sorry)

you met him in the middle of your 5th year. he was a fellow ravenclaw, but you had never interacted outside of house events.

that year was different though. 2023 was gonna be a year to behold. no more failing classes, no more sulking around. no, you were gonna own this year.

well, that was your plan anyway, until he came along. renjun huang. the name you’d never heard, but would eventually never forget.

you were on your way to the potions classroom, still waking from your 3 hours of sleep. he walked in before you, yet he didn’t hold the door open for you. silly detail to remember, but it sticks out to you now.

he always put himself first, no matter how many times he’d tell you not.

he was always bound for greatness. unfortunately, he was the first to notice.

“not a humble bone in his body” is what your friends would tell you. you knew you were stupid to fall for him, but you couldn’t help it. he had this pull, this charisma that attracted everyone who came into contact with him.

you should’ve known you weren’t special. after all, no one was to renjun huang. he was the center of his universe. hell, he was the center of everyone’s universe. everyone loved him. they adored him. no matter how worthless he made them feel, if you got even a glance from renjun, you were considered blessed.

you couldn’t stop after that quidditch game.

he flew by on his broom, snatching the golden snitch like always. you made eye contact with him, not the only one he was looking at, in retrospect. he won the game for ravenclaw. everyone was cheering him on, offering celebration in his honor, but he could only speed past them. he had better things to do, after all.

a year has passed and it was now valentine’s day. you had worked up the courage to finally give him the letter. your confession was sealed under the wax print of a yellow rose.

when you went to give it to him, you found you weren’t the only one. swarmed with girls, per usual. you stood in the back, not wanting to be first. you watched as he received letter upon letter, with not a single emotion found on his face. you saw, as the admirers left, him throwing away the letters.

each. and. every. single. letter.

he walked off, without a care in the world, as you watched in shock. you started crying, storming back to the ravenclaw dorm.

you entered the dorm with a sense of clarity.

fuck him.

no, not just “him”

fuck renjun huang. his name needs to be said aloud and cursed for generations.

so you decided to move on for yourself. you took the letter out of your robe pocket and point at the fireplace, “incendio.” you throw the letter into the fire, crying as you hear the words you wrote verbalize in your head. you watched as the yellow wax melted again, signifying a new beginning like a phoenix. when every last fiber of paper was turned to ash, you blew out the fire. you stood there and took in a breath as you feel your sorrow morph into an everlasting rage.

renjun huang will regret the day he broke your heart.

a/n: title is inspired by the song "letting go" by day6. i wanted to do a hogwarts fic, but i guess the angst monster won't let me out of his shackles yet. anyways...THANK YOU ELI FOR THE REQ.

[unforced3rr0r]

Not your girlfriend - CA

AUTHOR: I wanted to write something depressing….but I might write a happy part two if that’s something people want?

SUMMARY: You want more from Carlos and he can’t provide it.

WARNINGS: Angst, it’s just kinda miserable sorrryyyyy

Your room was shrouded in darkness only momentarily broken by the occasional car light and the glimmer of distant buildings out of the window.

The bed sheets were ruffled, pulled around your legs splayed out across your stomach. You watched your phone light up and then turn off, over and over. It was late. You should be asleep.

Each time your phone lit up the room your eyes watched it, hopefully reading each notification to no avail. He hadn't messaged.

You knew losing another game to Novak was going to be difficult for him, you had been there after the Olympics, wiped his tears and held him trying to help him forget the match.

You vividly remember the softness in his eyes after that game, the way he broke down convinced he'd disappointed his country. This time was different. It had been weeks since the match and you hadn't heard anything from him.

Forgotten was the usual post-match call, and the promise to fly you out or come see you the moment he got a chance. Instead, you were reduced to watching his Instagram stories and staring mindlessly at the read notification under the message.

You weren't his girlfriend, and he didn't owe you anything but when he found his way to your bed after each match and invited you to more and more events were you crazy to think it had gone beyond casual.

Trying to turn away from your phone that taunted you each time someone other than Carlos messaged you tried to fall asleep. The bed felt empty and cold, no matter how many layers you wore it didn't replicate the heat of lying next to him.

It was like you could feel the ghost of his hand against your body, staving off the sleep you desperately craved. Instead, you were being haunted by the memories of long nights spent with his body pressed against yours, his moans echoing through your mind.

Just as your eyes began to feel heavy and the memory of him subsided, your phone blared out behind you. You didn't need to turn towards it to see who it was, the ringtone alone indicated it was the very man who had been plaguing your mind.

For a second you considered ignoring it. Letting him feel what it's like to be waiting by the phone for your response. But every muscle and nerve in your body pulled you towards the phone, dragging you to pick it up.

Pressing the green button his voice flooded your senses, "Amor, ¿estás en casa?" (love, are you home?) The pet name sent shivers down your spine,

"Yeah, I'm at home." You tried to sound uninterested like you hadn't been sat by your phone for hours just waiting for his call.

"Estaré allí en diez minutos." (I'll be there in ten minutes.) You let out a scoff, taken back by the rashness. There have been times when Carlos impulsively visited you but never after not talking to you for nearly a week without reason. But before you could protest his voice came back through the phone, "Te extraño" (I miss you).

Your shoulders relaxed and your chest fluttered. The effect he held over you needed to be studied because you lost any semblance of a backbone when you were around him. "I'll see you soon then".

The next ten minutes were the longest of your entire life. tiding your room and making it look less like a warzone was the top priority but it seemed to take seconds and you found yourself sitting in the kitchen waiting for the knock on the door.

When it came your heart raced, but you moved towards the door. Pulling it open he stood casually, wearing jeans and a hoodie with his hair still buzzed although looking messier and his big brown eyes focused on you.

You moved to the side to let him into your apartment and he faltered slightly, watching you with a scrutinising gaze. Suddenly in your pyjama shorts, you felt exposed and vulnerable.

"How have you been?" You tried to ease the palpable tension between you as the regret for allowing him in began to creep in. But every time you looked at him your resolve crumbled so you needed to keep your distance.

He looked down at his feet, then up, meeting your eyes as he took a deep breath before talking. "AO was shit, you know how frustrating it is to come so close, again, and lose. Novak was injured and I still couldn't beat him, what does that say about my tennis." His shoulders were tense and as you dared to look at his face you could see the bags under his eyes had worsened.

You wanted to be there for him but you couldn't help but be annoyed that this was the first conversation you'd had in weeks.

"you could've called." you watched as his eyes met yours before quickly glancing away.

"I know"

"or texted" He shuffled from one foot to the other, though usually, the sight of him uncomfortable would cause a tightness in your chest, you couldn't help but push for answers. "Or really done anything other than randomly showing up at my apartment at 3 am after not texting me for weeks." you paused and looked at him, "I would've been there for you."

His gaze focused in on you and for a second a softness passed through his gaze before it shifted to frustration, he stood up straighter. "Come on, Y/N, that's not fair AO was-"

"No Carlos, you know what's not fair. You telling me before AO that you cared about me and wanted me to come watch your matches and sit in the coaches box to then not talking to me after one shit result." His eyes widened shocked by the outburst. You'd never opened up about how it felt to be his secret. With countless promises thrown your way to end up unfulfilled.

He stepped forward, the distance had shrunk and you could smell the aftershave that seemed to stain all your belongings after a visit. You knew it would hang around reminding you of this moment too. His large hand reached out to take your hand and in a moment of pure instinct, you stepped back.

"I can't do this anymore Carlos."

"What?" His brows were furrowed, deeply knitted together as he watched you play with the rings on your fingers.

"I don't want this anymore, I don't want to constantly be waiting by my phone for you, or hoping that this match is the match where you'll finally introduce me to anyone as your girlfriend instead of a friend. I'm tired of constantly having to listen to interviews and jokes about you being single, or you being rumoured with whichever woman it is this week. I'm constantly your second chance and sometimes it doesn't even feel like I'm second. I'm so tired of loving you Carlos when I don't even think you like me."

Your eyes began to water as you focused your eyes on the floor, you didn't want to cry in front of him, you were determined not to let him know the effect he held over you. He looked shocked. Sure he knew you cared about him but you truly doubted he ever thought it had gone that far.

"I didn't know"

But how couldn't he? You had spent countless nights laughing and talking until the sun rose. You'd spent afternoons cooking and laughing every time Carlos burnt something as simple as pasta. You'd fallen asleep next to him as he held you in a way that felt more intimate than any sex could and yet he couldn't tell you loved him.

You couldn't help but let the tears fall as you watched the man you loved watching you so cluelessly as if loving you was so distant from his mind that he couldn't even comprehend it.

"You should go." You walked past him back towards the door as his hand reached reach for your arm. He pulled you to face him his hand reaching your cheek and his eyes meeting yours. Tenderly he wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Por favor no hagas esto" (please don't do this) his voice was soft, a quiet plea as he so carefully held your face. You took a shaky breath in, lifting your hand to his, and watching as his brown eyes softened under your gaze.

For a moment you considered giving into him and falling back into the pattern you had gotten so used to but something inside you knew you needed to draw the line. You pulled his hand from your cheek, kissing his palm lightly before putting it down back at his side.

"I need more."

He began walking towards the door, his head down and shoulder slumped. Before he left he hesitated and just for a second your heart began to race thinking he was going to turn around and tell you he wanted more and he wanted it with you.

But he didn’t, instead he took another step forward out of the door and left without a goodbye.

Pushing the door closed your head fell against it as you let the tears rack through you. Suddenly the prospect of being without him felt so much more daunting than when he stood in front of you.

You slid down the door, sitting against it as you cried and waited for him to come back and knock on the door.

But, when the sun began to rise over the buildings and the tears had dried on your cheeks you realised it was truly over and while you would be broken his world would go on turning.

[astrasng]

kisses shared with ateez 𝜗𝜚

→ summary: ateez as type of kisses. they are down bad for you

→ warning: mainly fluff, nothing else

→ a/n: happy valentine's day to everyone ♡ make sure to treat yourself to something delicious and stay hydrated! ♡ ps: probably jongo's my fav from all of these

here's the masterlist to the event ^^

enjoy!♡

──── ⋆˚࿔ hongjoong || hurried kiss

hongjoong, the busy man he is, often forgets about giving you a kiss before leaving for work. and that often leads to hurried kisses, wanting to give you every single ounce of his love into one messy, i have to leave kiss before finally letting you go. he often can't control his feelings when it comes to you, especially when you are kissing him, your hands in his hair or around his neck, pulling him even closer, meaning that he's deeping the kiss too. starting with a soft kiss, that's what he thougth. it feels so good having your lips on his, so good that he can't let go even though he needs to go to work. and you know that too, but oh well, you're more important, right? because the minute hongjoong pulls away and whispers kiss me more in a hoarse voice tells you that you are more important than anything.

──── ⋆˚࿔ seonghwa || comforting kisses

seonghwa is simply someone who is a comforting person in general. his prescence often makes you calm whenever something stressful is happening in your life. the tone he's talking to you never heard being mean or sour,rather calm and warm. that also goes for his kisses. he often senses you being tired from a long day, only wanting to lay down on your shared bed or couch to sleep a little in seonghwa's arms, which he gladly accepts. whenever that happens, he can't help but press kisses all over your face, your temple, the top of your head or your closed eyelids which only makes you even sleepier. the feeling of his kisses spreads warmth all over your body, snuggling closer into his arms as he keeps his lips pressed on the top of your head. he feels so lucky to have you.

──── ⋆˚࿔ yunho || tingly kiss

the type of kiss that makes you want more and it leaves you feeling all tingly from yunho is just deadly. he always pulls away just before you could kiss him right back intensively, your hands still in his hair as his are steady on your waist. he smiles down at you, and then simply leaves. that's how easy it is for him, the control he has over himself making his ego even bigger when he knows how annoyed you feel at times like these. you can't help but touch your lips like in the movies, feeling your muscle still tingling in the best of the best of terms, literally still feeling his soft lips on yours. how lovingly he can press a kiss on your skin and lips, his body molding into yours to punctuate his unspoken words. in this way, not only his kiss, but his whole prescence makes you tingle with love.

──── ⋆˚࿔ yeosang || surprise kisses

yeosang isn't usually the one initiating the kiss first. he does, from time to time, but it always surprises you when he randomly kisses your temple, or your cheeks, god bless you your lips out of nowhere. even after all these years being together, still feels like it's a surprise feeling him walking up next to you or hopping down on the couch just to give you a kiss. it makes him often realize how rarely he makes the first move. it often makes him angry too, and often all those kisses are originally from him being beaten up on silly things like this. you told him once - don't be silly, i don't mind making the first move! making sure to reassure him that it really doesn't bother you. but still, it makes him want to initiate more things in your relationship, giving you everything you deserve because he loves seeing you being flustered by his sudden actions.

──── ⋆˚࿔ san || the i love yous

whispering i love you between kisses is san's specialty. doesn't matter where you are, or the circumstances. you can either be mad at him for some reason, or be in stupidly in love with him. he doesn't care, because san always wants to let you know how much he loves you. there isn't a time where he doesn't say it, or shows it to you. during cuddling or walking on the street - stopping in midsentence just to kiss you on the lips. deep, and long, feeling his emotions bored into that one single kiss. he whispers i love you when he feels like going in for a second kiss, or saying i love you so fucking much when you are both lost in a heated shared kiss which leads into multiple one.

──── ⋆˚࿔ mingi || kisses from behind

given mingi's height is easy for him to only drop his head lower and press kisses either on your shoulders, or the side of your neck. he grabs the opportunity when he sees you standing with your back to him,either doing something in the kitchen or looking at something at a supermarket. he loves walking up behind you and snaking an arm, maybe both, around your waist to pull himself closer and kiss your skin. it often makes you shiver just from his touch, feeling him behind you and hugging you from behind as he can't seem to stop pecking your exposed skin. sometimes he even murmurs I love your perfume or i missed you so much after a long day of not seeing you.

──── ⋆˚࿔ wooyoung || flustered kiss

wooyoung often sneaks kisses here and there, pressing a quick kiss before leaving on your forehead or cheeks. it doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is that he always gives you a kiss before leaving. but when he's home with you and the air is a little hotter than it should be? woo can't help himself to disattach himself off of you, your perfume pulling him in every time for more kisses and cuddles. and because of this, it often leads him kissing his way up from your wrist all the way up to your collarbones and lastly your lips. he focuses on your lips so much that by the time you two pull away you have to fight for air. he feels proud when he sees your face all flustered and red, ears burning off under his stare as he murmurs cute under his breath.

──── ⋆˚࿔ jongho || palm kisses

he's the romantic type. even if he doesn't necesseraly shows it, he is. he thinks kissing your warm palm of your hand says more i love yous than any other kisses. pressing a long, meaningful kiss in the center of your palm, all the way to your fingertips and to your knuckles feels like he's trying to erupt all the butterflies in your stomach. and he does, because you are left with the deepest shade of red on your face and chest, seeing him smirking under his breath by how cute you are. it's not unusual that he does this, he's a gentleman at heart, but you can't ever get use to him being this flirty and affectionate when it's just the two of you. kudos if he does this little moves of his infront of his friends or family with a wink in your way, you know that you'll marry this man no matter what.

a/n: if you've gotten to this point of my event, thank you so much for reading! i hope everyone had a good time, i tried to go with a more suave feeling for valentine's. ik i had a lot of fun, thank you so much for the notes and reblogs!

taglist: @arunainluv @myraet @peterm4rker @chenlezip

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

[skzthelomlhehe]

"Missed your birthday?! I'll make it right up to you!!"

A very disastrous yet sweet belated birthday date~

Jeongin x F!Reader

Genre: romance, hurt/comfort

Established relationship

Warnings: not much, just reader feels very disappointed and cries a lot. Slightly suggestive?

This isn't proofread so if you see any mistakes... No you don't 🤨🤨 whatever do you mean??

tag list: @bluesungology @diabolicalkitkat @capricorn-girl0112 @daysofskz-ateez @neginktn @seoul1207

Masterlist

8th February. A day marked on every calender of your house. An alarm set as a reminder on different variations of clocks you own. And yet... And yet... "Waaahh!!! Jeongin-ah!! Im so sorryyyyy!!!" "Noonaaaaaa~!! It's okay!!"

You had somehow managed to forget your dearest baby bread, your most lovingest boyfriend's birthday amidst all the chaos of your life.

Every year, you and your boyfriend aka Yang Jeongin made it your mission to make each other's birthdays a grandeur celebration. Despite him being an idol, he always took care of you. Always made you feel special on your big day and you tried to give back your best in return as well.

That is... Until this year. February started off hectic. Neck deep in work. Running around, attending calls, meetings etc etc. Coming home at 12 am and leaving at 5 the next day. You were extremely sleep deprived. The only thing that did go on in your head was, well, work.

On your way back home, you bought a small cake (cuz you couldn't find anything better at the time). By the time you were home it was already 12:34 am. You gently creaked the door open to find your lovely boyfriend laying on the couch, asleep. He was probably waiting for you to be home.

As quietly as you could, you took out the cake from the box and lit a candle before gently waking him up. "Happy birthday, agipang~" you whispered softly.

As his eyes fluttered open, his pretty lips perked up into a smile, "you're home, noona?" He shuffled to get up and you moved to sit beside him, "you didn't have to..." He mumbled. "Whatever do you mean?? Of course I had to!!" You claimed. "Now make a wish and blow the candle!"

He chuckled before closing his eyes and clasping his hands to make a wish. And moments later, he gently blew the candle. You placed the cake on the coffee table to hug him tight, "Happy birthday again, Jeongin-ah~" you mumbled. "Thank you, noona.." he chuckled.

As he looked down, he noticed you had fallen asleep. As endearing as it was, he also felt a pang in his chest. A stupid sting because he knew no matter how much he prays or begs, you'll have to go to work early in the morning and you wouldn't be back before midnight.

The next morning, you woke up on your bed. Your lover fast asleep beside you, looking as peaceful as ever.

You got up as usual, got ready, made him some food, gave a soft kiss on his forehead and went to work. But alas... You forgot one key thing. Seaweed soup. A traditional korean birthday dish that you cook for him every year. Ever since you guys were friends 4 years ago. And now, having dated him for almost 2 years, it's become even more important.

You went out to work per usual. Another day of hectic chaos. Another day of missing your boyfriend. So much so that you felt like crying.

Finally the clocks ticked by. The busy period subsided. It was already 10th February. You got home, tired and exhausted. Jeongin wasn't waiting for you at the couch. You got to your room and there he was... Lying peacefully on the bed. Slow, gentle breathing. The way the moonlight fell on his back made it seem like he was glowing.

Times and times again you get reminded of how much love you have for this man. You walked up to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

He groaned, his eyes fluttering open, "oh noona! You're home?" He got up immediately. Heck, you could even see puppy ears and tail with the way he looked at you. You sat down beside him, softly rubbing his cheek with your thumb as he leaned closer on your hand, "yup! Im back~" you smiled, "and I took a few days off too!"

He beamed up as he heard you. His smile growing wider. You gave him a kiss before getting up to freshen up. He whined, just a little, as he felt your absence once again. When you came out of the shower, he pulled you right in. Cuddling and hugging you like there's no tomorrow.

"gosh you little puppy! What's with you all of a sudden?" You giggled. "I just... I just feel really clingy all of a sudden..." He sighed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. If you could, you would say a lot of things, really. But the constant battle of Work every day for the past 10 days took a great toll on your body. And hence, before you knew you it, you were out like a light.

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed. You woke up, groggily. "Where'd he go...?" You mumbled. Taking your phone in your hand, you checked the time. 1:45 pm. Beside your phone was a sticky note.

"Hey sleepyhead. Good... Morning(?) I went out to get some stuff from the store and you were out like a light. Don't worry too much. I'll be home a little late. Rest up more if you wanna! - your agipang"

"The nerve of this man to not wake me up-"

You took your phone and opened your messaging app after like a whole week. Your heart sank as you read Chan's texts.

You felt so bad. He must have felt so bad too not having you with him like always. Just as you were thinking about how you could make it up to him, the door of your bedroom opened. And in came your beloved boyfriend with your favourite snacks.

"ah! Look who's awake! Ooh and i got you some snacks too!"

Just as he said that, with this... This loving tone of his... Water started spilling out of your eyes. "Waaahh!!! Jeongin-ah!! Im so sorryyyyy!!!" "Noonaaaaaa~!! It's okay!!"

"No it's not okay!! I missed your birthday! Im such a bad girlfriend!!"

"no come on! Don't say that! You were busy... I get it!!"

You sobbed even more like a child. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush that finally left your body after the hectic period but you just felt extremely emotional.

"I'll make it up to you! I'll plan the best date you've ever been on!!" You said, determined. He chuckled, coming closer to hug you and kiss you softly, "sure. If that's what you wanna do, I won't say no." He paused for a second, breaking away from the hug and looking down. His fingers intertwined as he sighed,

"I'm gonna be honest... I did feel a bit lonely and sad to not have you on my birthday... Sure, I had loads of fun with the members and my family on video call but... I missed your seaweed soup and the way you always make me feel so full..."

Even more tears came to surface as you heard him speak. You held him tight, repeating apologies and words of love over and over again.

In the end, you both ended up cuddling for a bit until he fell asleep in your arms. After making sure he was nice and deep in sleep, you got up slowly, making your way to the kitchen.

You felt so bad. So guilty. But you pushed your negative thoughts aside and started preparing to prepare the seaweed soup only to realise you were missing the main ingredient, the seaweed.

Panic was starting to set in because you had no idea when he would wake up. You ran to the store as fast you could. Thankfully, the store was significantly empty so you could get your stuff quickly.

It was a war, really. You rushed back as quick as you went. Panting, you tried to calm down. Food tastes the best when its made with love and care. Stressing out would only lead to mishaps. (I know a lot of y'all can't be calm in situations like these, so a little word for you; it's gonna be okay honey. Take it a little slow. You'll do great, I promise ❤️)

Midway through cooking you heard the bedroom door open. Jeongin walked out of the door, rubbing his eye, "what're you doing noona?" He asked groggily. "Making my baby some soup~" you chuckled.

He sighed and smiled, walking up to you and hugging you from the back, his head rested on your left shoulder as he watched you cook. You stirred the pot and pat his head simultaneously. Taking a spoonful of the soup and blowing on it, you held it close to his lips. Without a thought, he took a bite. "So? How is it?" You asked, a curious smile curving your lips. "Mmm~ as good as ever~" he replied, snuggling into you even more, making you giggle.

That night, you both ordered his favourite takeout and watched a movie as you ate. You stayed up all night planning the perfect date for him. An early morning walk down the lake, breakfast at his favourite cafe, working out together since he's been really into it for a while now, lunch at his favourite restaurant and then make your way up to a park to digest the food before heading to the amusement park.

It was the perfect date in your head... Until it wasn't.

You happened to wake up late since you stayed up all night. The morning walk was delayed significantly. The cafe you were supposed to go to happened to be closed. So you guys had to settle for some street food. The gym was overly crowded that very day for some reason so the workout was cut short. The reservation for lunch wasn't confirmed so you guys had to wait for about an hour and a half to get food cuz the place was packed.

By the time you got to the park, you fell sobbing. You felt like such a failure. "Im sorry... Im so sorry..." You sniffled, "this was supposed to be fun... This was supposed to be perfect... Im so sorry, jeongin-ah..."

Jeongin hugged you tight immediately, "don't cry, noona... I did have fun." "But... I... I ruined everything... Nothing went according to plan and i... I feel so disappointed..." (Hug me by I.N literally started playing as I'm writing this hahaha)

"don't be disappointed. I really liked the tteokbboki we had. God, I haven't had some in ages! You have no idea how much I had been craving it. And hey, we didn't get to work out well together but we got to tour around the place and have ice cream! And the food during lunch was definitely worth the wait! Most importantly... You were here with me. The very fact that you did all of this just for me makes me feel like the luckiest man alive! And didnt you say you had the amusement park thing? That's still left isn't it?" He cupped your cheeks within the palms of his hands and smiled. That loving, endearing smile.

You sniffled, nodding. He wiped your tears away and kissed your cheek. "Let's go to that park, yeah? We can still have even more fun! Although, I already did have fun with you. Anywhere is gonna be amazing as long as you're with me."

You hugged him again, kissing his lips softly, "I love you so much, Jeongin-ah.." you whispered. He smiled, "I love you too, noona~"

The amusement park was your last hope. It was the final cherry on top to your previously assumed 'perfect date'.

You had a bad feeling. You felt nervous. You kept fiddling with the gift that you had prepared that was hidden well inside your coat pocket as you made your way to the final destination.

To your utter (pleasant) surprise, the person you had contacted for help reached out to you to let you know the preparations were done. You beamed up immediately. "Jeongin-ah!! I need you to trust me okay?" You looked at him expectantly. "Uhh okay? I do trust you, though?"

"yeah I know but just said it anyway." You pulled out a blindfold from your purse. "What's that?" He asked, his eyebrow raised. "A blindfold~" you smiled mischievously.

He gulped, rightfully concerned and confused. He let you wrap the blindfold around his eyes and lead him inside.

After some walking, you guys finally stopped. "Alright... Im gonna take this off now~" you whispered in his ear. He flinched and nodded.

You slipped the fabric off his face. His eyes, softly opening and getting adjusted to the light surrounding him.

A beautifully decorated area right in front of the merry-go-round. Candles placed to form a heart. Rose petals scattered. Balloons with the letters of "Happy Birthday" surrounding the both of you as you two stood in the centre. "Wha... What's all this?" He asked, tearing up.

"Happy belated birthday, my love~" you smiled, finally pulling out the box from inside your pocket. You opened the box to reveal two rings. Promise rings. "I love you, Yang Jeongin. Will you be my forever valentine, my other half, my husband... And start a life with me? There's no rush. I'll wait for you for however long you want. However long you need. I just want you to be beside me..."

Love poured out of your lips along with your words. Jeongin's heart and yours beating loudly. "Yes! Yes I will!" He replied, full of excitement and love. He hugged you close, kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

Being honest, you felt your knees go weak from the kiss. As both of you finally broke out of the heat, he asked you to put the ring on him. So you did and he did the same for you before hugging you again.

"see. Now. I don't mind you asking me out like this... But this is only promise ring thingy, alright? I wanna propose to you, come on! This is unfair!" He whined, still in your arms. You giggled, "sure sure, Mr. Manly man~"

The time at the amusement park was like a movie. Going through different rides. Having cotton candy and other snacks. Buying funny head bands. So full of love and joy.

Back at home, the two of you head each other close. Love and lust intertwining. Sure, the day might've started off messy but... All's well what ends well, right?

You missed his birthday, sure, but you made it right up to him. You loved him and you were forever grateful he was born. And soon, when everything settles, the two of you would start a life together. Just the thought of it brought you immense joy.

... Fin~

The end was a tad bit rushed but I hope you guys liked it :3 again! A very happy belated birthday to our agipang! (Even though I'm 5 days late TvT)