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wafflefries13 · 19 days ago

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Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!

AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Part 2: First Dates

The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din.

“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full.

“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said.

Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.”

“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.”

“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly.

“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?”

“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.”

Ace:

“Ace!”

Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?”

“Do you want to go out with me?”

Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited.

“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?”

“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?”

Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”

“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.”

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.”

“What made you think that?”

“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.”

From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted.

Deuce:

“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?”

(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks.

“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?”

“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.”

Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her.

“(Y/N),” He began.

She clasped her hands together. “Yes?”

“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him.

Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much.

Trey:

“Ow!”

Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven.

“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!”

“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said.

“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?”

“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor.

“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!”

Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim.

“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”

“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn.

“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”

“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?”

Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”

Cater:

Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed.

He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one.

Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it.

Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before.

It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.

Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing.

(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.)

Riddle:

Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door.

“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!”

Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?”

(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!”

Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?”

Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses..

“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction.

‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’

“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?”

“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-”

“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.”

The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands.

“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.”

“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?”

“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love.

“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?”

(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?”

“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug.

Leona:

“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away.

(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached.

“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him.

“Hmm,” He replied.

“I have something important to ask you.”

“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.”

“Alright, ask away.”

“Will you go out with me?”

Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer.

“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.”

“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat.

Ruggie:

Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort.

“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled.

“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had).

“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!”

Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?”

Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh.

Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?”

“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?”

“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.”

Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?”

Jack:

Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown.

“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked.

“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk.

Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore.

Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?”

(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?”

“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.”

Azul:

Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently.

“Oh? I’d love to hear it.”

Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date.

“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?”

Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes.

“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?”

He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.”

Jade:

(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?”

“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.”

Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice.

“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-”

“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table.

Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire.

“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.”

“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased.

(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?”

Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.”

Floyd:

Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her.

She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often.

Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs.

“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?”

“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!”

Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.

“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.”

“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.”

Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.”

She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.”

Kalim:

Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work.

He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside.

“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?”

There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered.

“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything.

“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.”

Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?”

“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.”

“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.”

(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.”

They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace.

“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!”

(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?”

Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?”

Jamil:

“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil.

Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.”

“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!”

“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?”

Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.”

“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table.

Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!”

Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.”

“But you told me you liked her!”

“I said no such thing.”

Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.”

“There were no lines!”

“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back.

Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway.

(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.”

“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting.

Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name.

“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?”

“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.”

Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him.

“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway.

“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?”

(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.”

Vil:

Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing.

Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here.

Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk.

Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar.

“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles.

A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world.

Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?”

Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.”

Rook:

“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.”

“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.”

“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.”

Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said.

“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made.

“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off.

(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.”

“Bonjour, Trickster.”

“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.”

Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.”

“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading.

(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!”

“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?”

“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug.

Epel:

Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere.

He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever.

Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues.

Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’

That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood.

Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’

Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes.

“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?”

“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile.

She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?”

Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.”

Idia:

Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves.

The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support.

One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten.

“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!”

Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time.

“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!”

“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’”

Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice.

He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed.

He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts.

He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.”

Silver:

(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk.

(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.”

Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer.

(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees.

A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her.

“Hi,” She said. “Would you want to go out with me?”

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red.

(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?”

Sebek:

“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot.

“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged.

Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full.

Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!”

“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?”

Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?”

“Sure,” Epel said.

(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along.

Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality.

“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.”

“Blessing?”

“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?”

For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.”

Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.”

Lilia:

Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him.

So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two.

“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face.

“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.”

Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well.

“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly.

“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back.

Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.”

Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway.

“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp.

Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?”

(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage.

“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?”

Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?”

Malleus:

Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble.

“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles.

In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her.

“What’s all this?”

She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?”

Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said.

She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.”

“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show.

Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”

840 notes · View notes

illusioninfnty · 1 year ago

Text

learning curve ↠ day 6 ; dry humping

↠ monkey d. luffy x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dual virgins, luffy and reader are inexperienced, jealous!luffy if you squint, takes place a bit after opla season 1 so luffy is aged up

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“Luffy?” You call for your captain, peeking your head into his quarters. “Is everything okay?”

You noticed that your cheery and optimistic captain had been unusually quiet the past few hours. He never had gone that long without some sort of exclamation or crazy action, and his odd behavior was worrying to you. So when he finally retreated to his room, you decided to follow to see what was up.

“Oh!” Luffy’s eyes widen, as he says your name, clearly surprised to see you. He sends you a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug, going inside and closing the door behind you. You take a seat next to him on his bed. “I don’t know,” you start. “You just seem…distant. You can tell me what's bothering you.”

Luffy sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel just so frustrated. But no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it!”

You were confused too, unsure why Luffy wasn’t able to brush this off like he always did. Until a lightbulb went off. You remember Sanji mentioning urges that men get sometimes, and how they need a woman to fix it.

“It sounds like you might have some tension, you know, down…there.”

Luffy pauses, taking in what you said, before his eyes brighten. “I think you’re right!” he exclaims. “Oh wow, that makes a lot of sense now.” He goes quiet again, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, though.”

You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m able to help you with it.”

Luffy jumps up and grasps your shoulders. “Alright!” he cheers. He sits back down next to you and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. “That actually makes a lot of sense. The feeling always gets worse whenever I’m around you. I guess you have to be the one to fix it then, huh?”

“O-oh.” You stutter. Not only did you just discover that your captain (who you may have had a tiny bit of a crush on) was sexually frustrated, but he was like that because of you. A wave of heat rushed down your body.

“Yeah.” You confirm to Luffy, hoping to not seem too excited about this whole situation. “I just have to get on top of you.”

Luffy nods, spreading his legs and leaning back on his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the boner he’s sporting, which makes you heat up even more. You seat yourself right on top of it, causing the two of you to moan harmoniously.

You start to move yourself on top of Luffy, his clothed cock hitting your pussy in the perfect spot. The fabric of your underwear rubs against your clit, causing your wetness to begin to stain it.

You reach your hand down to palm him through his shorts, hoping that you're bringing him pleasure from at least one of two ways. Luffy looks up at you with curious eyes.

“How’d you know to do this?” he asks you.

“I heard Sanji talking about it. He says guys feel like that a lot. Pent up, ‘s what he called it.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Have you done this with him?”

“W-what? No!” Your hands scrunch up in his vest and you swallow hard. “This is actually my first time doing anything like this,” you admit sheepishly, eyes downcast.

Luffy grins. “Yeah, me too!” he says brazenly. “Guess we’ll figure out how to do this together!” He laughs.

You send a matching grin back as you continue to grind on top of him. You’re practically sopping now, an audible sound happening when you rock back and forth on Luffy. His cock throbs furiously, and you gasp when he grabs your hips.

He starts to rock back onto you, pumping his hips upwards into you. You lean forward as the sensation weakens you, and Luffy buries his face into your neck.

“Feels good…” he mumbles into you. You hum in agreement as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.

You increase your pace, wrapping your arms around Luffy as you both press close against the other, grinding each other uncontrollably.

Luffy suddenly stills your hips and moves you onto the bed, face down and ass hanging off the edge. You gasp in surprise.

“Want to try this,” he breathes out as he hovers over you. You’re met with him thrusting against you from behind, hips moving wildly as he lets out low groans behind you. Luffy wraps his arms around your midsection, holding you in place.

You’re strung out and helpless as Luffy humps into you, his pulsing cock hitting against your clit. Your wetness has fully soaked your bottoms, and Luffy is able to thrust his cock between your clothed lips with ease.

Your captain moves with reckless abandon, hips jutting against your own. Neither of you can talk past groans and whines. This act feels primal, both of you desperately chasing your release.

His hands on your waist tightens as he humps into you and his groans are loud in your ear. You arch yourself into him, attempting your best to rub yourself against his cock.

He moans out your name into the crook of your neck as his body covers your own. “You feel really great,” he continues, his voice cracking. He moves faster and faster against you, seeking his peak.

Your hands fist the bedsheet as you bounce back and forth against his thrusts and grinds against your clothed pussy. “Luffy!” you cry out. You can feel his hips start to move out of rhythm and he lets out a final low moan before you feel the stickiness of his cum seep through his shorts and onto your own.

Both of you are panting furiously, tired from your romp. Luffy rolls off of you, collapsing next you on the bed. You turn yourself onto your back and lean towards him, basking in the pleasure you just received.

Luffy turns his head towards you. “I don’t want you to do that with anyone else on the crew.” He says, with more seriousness than you’ve heard from him all night.

“I wouldn’t think of it.” You hesitate to continue as you prepare for disappointment with your next statement. “But—if you want, we can do this again soon. If you’d like to.” You mentally hit yourself in the head for stumbling over your words so embarrassingly.

He sits up, seemingly recovered from his orgasm. “Are you kidding? You don’t even need to ask! ‘Course we are!”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around your captain and giggling into his chest.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #one piece smut #monkey d luffy x reader #opla x reader #opla luffy #one piece live action #one piece live action x reader #monkey d luffy smut #opla luffy x reader

6K notes · View notes

aureatelys · 2 months ago

Text

she lives in daydreams with me

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k.......

content warnings: 18+ please MDNI, fluff and smut, service kink sorta, mild d/s undertones, oral (f) receiving, vaginal fingering, semi public sex, age gap duh, employee/boss relationship duh, an excuse to write hotch eating pussy ngl

It all started with a cup of coffee. Or: You've had a crush on your boss for a long time, but you've recently started noticing him going out of his way to do things for you without you asking. Or or: Aaron Hotchner likes to do things for people. And by people, he means you.

read on ao3 or below <3

It all started with a cup of coffee.

You had just walked through the glass doors and into the bullpen, still waking up and desperately needing a cup of coffee, when JJ walks by you with a stack of folders in her arms. She gives you that look and motions towards the conference room.

You sigh and follow her, not even bothering to put your bag down at your desk. “That bad, huh?”

JJ grimaces. “Isn’t it always?”

You choose not to say anything, because she’s right. Lately, the cases have been getting more gruesome, more violent, and you’re wondering if it’s starting to affect you at all.

You pass by Hotch as he’s leaving his office and down the stairs, most likely going to make a coffee. You nod at him, giving him a small smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Hotch says, curt as always. He makes eye contact with you briefly, silently telling you that he is still waking up as well and that he’s not being curt on purpose, before looking away.

Thankfully, it’s been a couple of months since you’ve joined the team, so now you know that Hotch doesn’t actually hate you like you suspected. In fact, he seems to have taken a liking to you based on the number of dry jokes and banter he’s participated in just this week. It definitely doesn’t help the tiny, miniscule crush you have on him.

You don’t know where it came from. Hotch has always been an objectively attractive man, but it’s not often you have a crush on a man who is your boss who is more than 20 years older than you.

Maybe it happened last month, when you were on the jet and he was placing files onto the table to run through theories, and you noticed just how large his hands were. Or maybe, it started when you had knocked before entering his office and he hadn’t noticed you because he was on the phone with who you assumed was Jack based on the excited whispers and soft smile on his face. Or, to your horror, maybe it started when you walked in for your interview, and you felt something stir in the pit of your stomach when he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on the form-fitting pencil skirt you had worn.

A very tiny crush, you think to yourself as you situate yourself in the conference room, throwing your bag underneath the table.

It’s still dark outside, barely 6 in the morning, and the entire floor was quiet while JJ set up the files and photos. You yawn and you’re just about to get up and make your cup of coffee since there was still some time left before everyone showed up, when a mug is placed in front of you.

You stare at it, halfway out of your chair, before the wonderful smell of that bad yet addicting office coffee hits you and you sit down.

You look up to find Hotch sitting down at the head of the table with his own steaming mug. He looks at you, not smiling, but his eyes are soft. “I hope I got it right.”

You look back at your coffee. It’s the perfect color. He even used your designated mug you brought from home, plain and pink, and the image of him carrying it through the office makes you want to giggle.

You don’t giggle, and instead carefully pick it up and bring it to your lips to take a sip. It’s warm and absolutely delicious, sweetened the way you like, which is a lot. How does he know, you blink, a bit shocked that Hotch was able to make your coffee perfectly, more perfectly than you’re able to make sometimes.

So you tell him. “This is better than when I make it. Thank you,” you say sincerely, and chalk up the warmth sparking in your stomach to be from the coffee.

“Don’t mention it,” Hotch says, the corner of his mouth quirking up before turning back to his own mug and taking a sip.

You feel pleased that he thought of you, and then a little anxious because why is he thinking of you? He’s never made you coffee before and you wonder how he knew you like your coffee tasting more like sugar than the actual coffee. You blame it on the fact that he probably saw how tired you looked and knew you needed a little caffeine to start the day.

“Morning ladies,” Derek announces, striding in with too much energy this early in the morning, and making you jump a bit. He laughs at your reaction and then notices the man sitting at the table, looking up at him wordlessly. “And Hotch.”

“Morning,” he says flatly, raising his eyebrows at him.

Derek laughs and chooses to situate himself between you and Hotch. You silently try not to be annoyed by that as you take another gulp from your coffee, and then internally beat yourself up because why would you be annoyed, he’s doing you a favor.

You start reading up on the file that JJ placed in front of you when Morgan asks “Hey, where’s my cup of coffee?”

You glance at him, still holding onto your mug like a lifeline, to find him looking at you almost offended. You shrug. “I didn’t make it.”

Morgan whips his head around to look at Hotch, who acts as if he didn’t hear him. “Where’s my specially made Hotch coffee?”

He doesn’t even look up. “I only have two hands.”

You snort, almost choking, while JJ laughs and Morgan scoffs before he gets up to go downstairs to the break room.

You glance at Hotch to find him smiling to himself, mirth in his eyes, and feel the warmth in your chest again despite how tired you feel.

It’s probably the caffeine.

The next time it happens, it’s after you had gotten shot.

To be fair, you’ve been shot a handful of times already since being on the team, but still. You hate being shot at.

Luckily, this time it was your leg and not your stomach like last time, which absolutely fucking sucked. You had been on bedrest for weeks and was going crazy in your apartment despite Penelope visiting you every day, bringing takeout or a steamy romance novel.

You’re currently in a hospital in Texas, leg in a cast, and starting to get antsy. They told you you’re going to be able to discharge later today, but you’re ready now.

“Relax,” Hotch says where he’s sitting at your bedside, not even looking up. He’s finishing up some reports from the case they just finished, laptop on the bed providing a warm presence against your thigh. You try not to ogle at his hands. How is he even able to work with hands that big?

“I’m just ready to go home,” you say through gritted teeth. “I don’t know why we can’t just leave now, I’m fine.”

“You’re lucky the bullet didn’t hit a nerve,” Hotch says, now looking up at you. There’s a frown on his face and his eyes are tired. The bags underneath his are deeper, darker, and you ignore the pang in your chest when you remember the frantic shouts of him calling for an ambulance after you got shot, the warmth of his hands on your calf to press against the wound.

“I’m fine,” you say, rolling your eyes. “What I’m worried about is what I’m going to do the next case we get.”

If possible, his frown deepens. “You’re not coming with us on the next one.”

Something like irritability rises up your throat. “Yes, I am. I can still work in this stupid cast.”

“Yes, but the doctor said you need rest,” Hotch states, sitting up a little straighter after seeing the look on your face. He knows how stubborn you can get, and this time is no different.

“I can rest on the jet, at the precincts.” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow defiantly at him. “I can still be helpful. I’m not useless.” Like hell you were going to go crazy in your apartment again, living off of frozen pizza and reality TV.

Hotch sighs, and whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by a nurse coming in to check your vitals one more time, your pain level, and then giving you the rundown to be careful, get some rest, blah blah blah.

Somehow Hotch is the one who is tasked with driving you to the airport after you get discharged, the rest of the team already on the jet. You hobble awkwardly through the parking lot with your crutches, and Hotch is right next to you with his hand on the small of your back in case you fall. His hand is warm, nearly setting your whole back on fire, and you shake that thought away as you stumble a bit into the passenger side of his car.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks as he puts your crutches in the backseat. His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you with concern, his hands already out to catch you just in case.

You fight a blush and sit down with a grunt. “Yep, I got it.”

The drive to the jet is quiet besides the low hum of the radio. You stare out the window the whole time, just happy to finally feel the warmth of the sun on your face.

“Do you need me to stop for anything?” You turn your head to look at Hotch. He has some stubble forming on his cheeks, hair mussed, and he’s wearing that brown quarter zip-up you like. He has his eyes on the road and turns to look at you, eyebrow cocked. His lips are chapped.

You are struck with the thought of how insanely handsome he is.

You clear your throat. “Nothing I can think of.”

Hotch hums. “Let me know if there’s anything you’re needing.”

You nod silently, and five minutes later, you’re on the tarmac and stumbling up into the jet. Hotch’s hand is at your back again, barely grazing you, and making sure you don’t fall down the stairs. He’s holding onto your crutches despite your protests, and you try not to feel a little indignant.

“There she is,” Morgan singsongs as you plop down into a seat with a sigh. “How’re you feeling?”

“Ready to go home to my bed,” you say, immediately slouching down to get comfortable.

“I feel that,” Emily laughs, nodding, and then she’s patting you on the shoulder before she sits behind you.

Hotch sits across from you, and you try not to think about how this seating chart has become a normal occurrence. He doesn’t seem to mind, however, based on the small smile he gives you.

He’s setting up his laptop and takes out a couple of files from the bag. He then reaches in and places something on the table in front of you. A water bottle and a small bag of trail mix.

“Oh,” you say, caught off guard and not knowing what else to say.

Hotch clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I know you don’t really like hospital food. So.”

You’re suddenly reminded of the coffee incident, where he somehow knew how to make your coffee exactly the way you liked it and continued to do so almost every day since. You can feel Reid staring a hole into the side of your face from where he’s lying on the couch across the aisle.

Your stomach grumbles then, loudly, and you hear Emily laugh behind you. Hotch glances up at you from where he already has a file open. The corners of his mouth just barely quirk up, almost smug. As if he knew that was going to happen.

You wonder when he had the time to get you a snack. It didn’t come from the kitchenette in the jet, having been out of stock of snacks for weeks, and he hadn’t really left your side while you were in the hospital.

“Thanks,” you finally say. You reach forward to open the bag of trail mix. “You didn’t have to.”

Hotch’s eyes soften, his eyebrows relaxed, and there’s concern and something else in his eyes when he says “I wanted to.”

You smile before you can help yourself, ducking your head, and hoping no one else can hear how fast your heart was racing.

You’re hit with the fact that Hotch was thinking of you, planning ahead to get you a snack and make sure you were fed before you guys made it home. You notice the lack of snacks for the rest of the team and try to ignore the thrill that goes through you. It’s like he knows what you want before you know yourself.

Like he’s taking care of you.

You nearly choke on a cashew when the thought occurs to you. Hotch’s head shoots up at the sound, looking alarmed, and it looks like he’s about to get up and hit you on the back when you wave him off. He doesn’t look satisfied until you take a swig from your water bottle and give him a thumbs up. He goes back to tapping away at his laptop, but you can tell he’s still watching you out of the corner of his eye.

It makes sense now that you think about it. He’s made a habit of checking in with you at the end of the day, offering to drive you home if you stay at the office too late. Whenever you check out a location while on a case, he always goes first. He makes sure you’re getting enough sleep, reminding you that you can take time off whenever you want.

You’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but ever since The Coffee Incident, you feel another pair of eyes on you more often than usual. Sometimes you would look up and see Hotch staring fixatedly on a particular file or his phone, but you can’t deny the prickling feeling you get on the back of your neck. You’ve noticed your fingertips touching more, sharing looks when the rest of the team argue, knees and feet knocking together underneath tables.

You’ve noticed that not only is Aaron Hotchner, your boss, very handsome but extremely and undeniably hot.

His broad shoulders, his tall stature. His cologne, the way he fills out his suits. His deep voice that’s able to dominate and control an entire room and make you weak in the knees.

“Interesting,” you mumble to yourself. Hotch glances at you with that same concern etched in his face, a question forming on his lips. You smile at him innocently and knock your knees against his underneath the table. It’s easy to find him with the annoying cast on your leg.

He knocks his knees back, gentler than he needs to, and a corner of his mouth just barely lifts.

You are absolutely sure now that Aaron Hotchner has a… thing.

You don’t know what to call the… thing, but there is undoubtedly a thing.

It’s late and you’re the last one in the office. Well, besides Hotch of course, because he practically lives at the office.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Emily asks, JJ on her arm. “I’m sure we can find something for us to do.”

You wave them away. “I’m almost done. Just got at least 2 more reports I need to finish my notes. Promise.”

Emily frowns, but you can see she’s slowly walking backwards to the exit. JJ looks like she’s trying not to tug at Emily’s arm to walk faster. “If you’re sure…”

You roll your eyes. “Go on and have fun with… whatever you guys are going to do. I don’t want to know.”

JJ gives you a wink over her shoulder and you watch as they head into the elevator, a skip in her step. And then they’re gone.

Even though you had just gotten back from the case, it takes you awhile to finish your notes hunching over your desk. It’s quiet in the building, silent besides the faint hum of the air conditioner and your pen scratching at the paper. Your hand cramps a bit and you seriously wonder why this has to be handwritten rather than being in the current century and use a laptop. You’re motivated by the thought of sleeping in tomorrow morning though, which means getting up at 9 instead of your normal 6.

You lean back into your chair, staring at your completed notes. You hear paper rustling from the office upstairs and look up to see Hotch’s door slightly ajar. You suddenly feel nervous being alone with him, as if you haven’ t been alone with him countless of times before. Recently, however, it’s been happening more, and you’re not quite sure how to feel.

You get up from your desk and stretch your back, groaning when you hear a pop. You take a deep breath, imagine your soft bed, gather your reports for the final signature, and head upstairs.

You knock, hear a faint “Come in,” and step inside Hotch’s office, closing the door behind you.

He has his desk lamp on, washing his office and his face with a warm golden glow. He hasn’t even looked up from where he’s writing his own reports, so you take the brief chance to stare.

He’s surrounded by piles of papers; messier than how he usually keeps his desk. His tie is loosened from around his neck and the top two buttons are undone. His sleeves are rolled up and you try not to stare at his thick forearms, the veins in his hands. He grabs a nearby mug to take a sip of coffee, no doubt already cold. Your eyes follow his mouth when he takes a drink, watch the way his tongue flicks out to lick his lips, and then to his face. Where he is watching you with a faint smirk tugging at his aforementioned mouth.

You clear your throat, fighting the blush that’s starting to crawl up your neck. You go to stand in front of his desk, files in hand. “I have the rest of my notes from the Florida case.”

Hotch’s face easily morphs back into his stern and professional look, but you can still see something dance around in his eyes. He takes the files wordlessly, opens one, and reads your notes for not even 5 seconds before he says “You have the names of the sisters mixed up.”

You blink, still trying to fight the nervousness you feel and the warmth pooling slowly at the pit of your stomach as you watch his hands. “Huh?”

Hotch points at the crooked paragraph you scribbled out. “The older sister is named Amanda, the younger sister is Cynthia. You have them mixed up.”

And suddenly the nervousness you felt from being in the same room as your boss, alone and in the middle of the night, is overtaken by sheer embarrassment. You must have been more tired than you thought. “I’m sorry.” You put your hand out for the file. “I can go fix it real quick.”

“It’s fine,” Hotch says, and somehow, you’re not surprised. “I got it.”

You think about the past couple of months and the small gestures he’s been doing for you. Even though you’ve known Hotch for a couple of months now, you can’t quite get a read on him. It’s confusing, he’s confusing. You hate to say that it feels like he’s giving you mixed signals. One second, he’s opening the car door for you when you’re on a case, the next he won’t even look at you when the team is at a bar for an evening. Now this? Offering to fix a mistake you made at work? Something indescribable crawls up your throat and you suddenly feel irritated, upset, and something else.

“No,” you say as professionally as you can despite the rush of blood you can hear in your ears. “I can fix it, Hotch.”

He looks at you then, something like surprise on his face. “It’s just a quick fix, I can do it.”

It’s just a little typo, why won’t he let you fix it, you think to yourself. Maybe it’s the stress from the case you just got back from, how late it was, or something else entirely, but you find yourself unable to stop yourself from saying “Why do you keep doing things for me?”

This time, it’s Hotch who blinks back at you. He puts his pen down and clasps his hands together, looking like he’s ready for a talk. “What do you mean?”

“This!” You wave your hand at him, now not sure exactly what to say. “You keep… doing things for me. Things that I am perfectly capable to do myself, you know.”

Now you realize what that nagging feeling in your throat was— anger. Has Hotch been doing this because of how old you were? Because you were a young and new agent, naïve and innocent and can’t do anything herself?

Hotch just looks at you blankly. You quickly try to read his face; he’s clenching his jaw, his hands where they were clasped are now clenched into almost fists, and his eyes are dark.

“You are perfectly capable,” Hotch says, slowly. “I do know that.”

You huff a bit. “That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Hotch is silent again before letting out a deep sigh. He closes his eyes, runs his hand over his face, and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve just ruined your friendship/professional relationship with your boss. You can almost see the wheels spinning in his head as he figures out what to say.

He smoothly gets up from his desk and is now standing in front of you, leaning against his desk. He’s close, nearly towering over you, and you can almost feel the heat of his body like this.

The close proximity makes you nervous, because this is different than sitting next to each other on the jet or in the car. It’s different because the entire floor of the building is empty and you’re alone in your boss’s office.

He finally opens his eyes, making sure to make eye contact with you. His hands open and then close, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “I do these things because I like doing them. For you.”

You stare at him, not sure what to say and feeling overwhelmed at the onslaught of emotions you’re feeling. You feel pleased, shy, giddy, anxious, and overwhelmed.

It makes sense that Hotch likes to take care of people. He’s a leader, a father, and his whole life is about helping those who are in need. You’ve seen it in the way he checks in with everyone, the way he humors Reid with his ramblings or lending an ear to Rossi. You’ve seen it in the way he talks to children and the way he tries to make himself appear softer, almost smaller.

You see it in him now. If it was anyone, Hotch would look stoic or cold, however you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are with the way he’s clearly biting at the inside of his cheek, the tense jaw, and the concerned furrow of his brow.

You’re still not sure what to say, but you know what you want to do.

So, you close the several inches between you and him with one step, grabbing the collar of his pristine button-up, and kiss him.

You’ve clearly taken him by surprise, but he pretends to act otherwise as he gingerly places his hands on your hips and kisses you back.

His lips are soft, addictingly so, and he tastes like coffee when he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. The feeling makes your knees weak and you think you let out a soft moan, but you’re unable to hear anything over the sound of blood in your ears. His hands, large and hot, roam from your hips and up your back, giving you shivers.

Hotch is the first one to pull away and you instinctively chase after him with your lips before he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure?”

You look up at him, not realizing you had to crane your neck so much to do so and feel that all-too-familiar feeling between your legs that makes you clench your thighs. His lips are already swollen, pretty and pink, the collar of his shirt wrinkled from where you were pawing at him, and his eyes boring into you like he’s going to eat you alive.

“Yes,” you breathe, looping your arms around his shoulders to pull him back in. Hotch goes willingly, almost eagerly.

Hotch kisses like he works—meticulous and focused, however his hands are needy with the way he runs them over your ass, your back again, and your breasts through your sweater. He still seems like he’s being careful, like he’s worried about breaking you. You weave your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pull out of pure curiosity, marveling at the way Hotch lets out a groan deep in the back of his throat.

That seems to set him off because now he’s groping you a bit harder, mouth trailing down your neck and peppering kisses in a way that makes you breathless. You can tell he’s refraining from biting and leaving marks, instead making sure to pay extra attention to the spot underneath your ear that makes you gasp and grab at the back of his shirt. “Hotch…”

“Aaron,” he mumbles against your neck before bringing his face back up to yours, noses nearly touching. “Please call me Aaron.”

He’s looking at you like you hung the moon, like he can’t believe you’re in front of him. His face is relaxed, void of any stress, a faint redness on his face, and his hair is so effortlessly messy in a way it makes him look so young and devastatingly handsome.

You nod and move your hands up the nape of his neck again to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble on your palms. “What are you going to do to me, Aaron?”

He groans again and the sound goes straight between your thighs. He suddenly spins you both around until you have your back pressed up against the desk, nearly digging into you. Your breath is knocked out of you, from surprise or desire you don’t know, but then Aaron has his hands at the hem of your sweater. He looks at you, silently asking, and then quickly taking it off when you nod.

His hands immediately gravitate to your breasts, kneading them through the plain black bra you’re wearing. You’re almost embarrassed that it’s so plain, but clearly Aaron doesn’t mind from the way he’s staring at them, thumbs pressing with the lightest pressure against your nipples through the fabric. You feel them tighten, sighing at the soft beginnings of pleasure, and think surely he’s able to feel them even through your bra.

“Fuck,” Aaron curses, and you have never heard him curse and definitely not like this. For some reason, it makes you hotter, and you scramble to bring your hands behind you to unclasp your bra.

And then his mouth is immediately pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your chest, between your breasts, and then onto your right nipple. You gasp and involuntarily arch your back to press closer to him, chasing his warm and wet mouth.

Aaron takes his time with you. He alternates between sucking hard to little kitten licks while his hand is rolling the other nipple between his fingers. You bite your lip in an effort to suppress your moans, trying to keep in mind that both of you are still technically at work. The thought of being caught during sex has never appealed to you, but for some reason, tonight it sends lightning down your spine. You could tell that you were already incredibly wet, probably soaking through your panties, and you spread your legs a bit to relieve some of the pressure. Aaron immediately steps in closer.

You suddenly feel the hot line of his hard cock against your leg through the several layers of clothing and it makes you moan even louder. “Please,” you gasp, nearly clawing at his back.

His mouth lets go of your nipple with an obscene noise and he’s back to pressing kisses against your neck now, soft and slow, as if giving you a second to catch your breath. “What do you want?” He murmurs, voice deep, and going straight to your wet pussy.

And there it is again— Aaron’s need to take of people. To take care of you.

You spread your legs more at the thought, feeling like you can’t breathe.

Aaron hums, stroking his hand along your thigh, and it feels like you’re burning through your slacks. “Is that you want?” The deep timbre of his voice makes you dizzy, especially when he talks to you like that; teasing, like he’s playing with you.

You nod, your words stuck in your throat. You feel the sweat start to gather at your forehead, your chest, and you can feel him staring while you’re trying to catch your breath.

“I want you to say it,” Aaron says before he’s lifting your hips up so you’re sitting at the edge of his desk. He then tucks his fingers in the waistband of your pants but makes no move to tug them down.

You glance helplessly at the door, thanking past you and the thought to close the door. You know there is a low chance of being heard since it’s almost midnight on a Friday, but again, the thought of being caught with your pants around your ankles and your bra off sends a shiver through you.

“Look at me.” And there’s a hand on your chin, pulling your attention back to the older man in front of you.

He looks absolutely wrecked despite all of his clothes being on. You didn’t notice his tie was gone, thrown somewhere in the office. Aaron is looking at you intently, eyes dark from how dilated his pupils were, and you can tell he’s just as affected by the way his chest is heaving up and down underneath his button-up.

“Tell me what you want,” Aaron whispers, his free hand running up and down your thighs. “And I’ll give it to you.”

Your throat clicks when you swallow, licking your lips, and you watch as Aaron’s eyes follow the movement. “Please eat me out,” you say breathlessly, and it almost feels stupid to say until Aaron is surging into you to press his hungry mouth against yours.

“That’s a good girl,” Aaron mumbles against your mouth and you want to melt into a puddle.

He finally pulls down your pants, helping you lift your hips up to take them off. He’s helping you take off your shoes and then suddenly, he’s kneeling on the floor in between your thighs.

You almost want to close them, suddenly feeling shy, until he has his hands on your knees to keep them apart. You can’t see his expressions from this angle, but you squirm when you feel his eyes and warm breath on your core, probably having soaked your panties right through. You wouldn’t be surprised if you soaked through your pants.

He lets go of your knee to trace your slit through your panties and you jump a bit in surprise, moaning nonetheless and grinding your hips up into his touch. You’re sensitive and have been teased for who knows how long, and secretly you’ve always liked getting dirty with some clothes being on. Blame Aaron and his penchant for suits.

And then he’s leaning in and pressing his hot hot mouth against your cunt through your panties.

You gasp, loudly, and your hands fly to the top of his head. That’s all the permission Aaron needs, it seems, as he begins by swiping his flat tongue up you before dissolving into slow languid licks. He’s not exactly touching you where you need him most, but it’s enough for now. He’s messy and you’re starting to wonder if a mix of his spit and your wetness is dripping onto his desk, onto the floor, and the thought makes your thighs shake. You know he’s doing this on purpose to make your panties wetter, and it’s so hot in a way you didn’t know was possible.

You feel him hum against you and you squirm against his hands, mewling when you feel them tighten on your thighs. You secretly hope he leaves bruises.

“Please,” you whisper. As much as you love the thought of him so desperate to get a taste of you, him willing to take what he can get through the fabric, you need more. “Aaron, please…”

He groans, something masculine and guttural, and then he’s moving your panties aside from your wet pussy and delving back in again.

His mouth feels infinitely better like this, and you can feel his tongue swiping into your opening, gathering the wetness and completely avoiding your clit. You whine, grasping at his hair a little harder, and wonder if that’s his smile you can feel against your pussy. You grind against his face, almost involuntarily, and he lets you, even enjoying it based on how he moans and moves his tongue faster, exploring.

He finally moves his tongue to your clit and your eyes nearly roll back at the pleasure wracking your body. You gasp and tighten your hold on his hair. It feels so so good, and again the thought of Aaron being so hungry for you he’s willing to do this in the office, his office. Stern and cold, highly esteemed SSA Aaron Hotchner. Your boss.

“Fuck, Aaron,” you whimper and look down at him on his knees between your thighs. His eyes are closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as if he’s just at his desk filling out paperwork or working on a case. Instead, he’s focused on eating you out so intensely, on making you feel so good, he’s so hot.

He opens his eyes at that, as if he could feel you watching him, and they’re a warm golden brown, pupils blown. His hands on your thighs tighten and he shifts from where’s kneeling on the floor. You could see he’s genuinely enjoying making you come apart with his pretty mouth as he flicks your clit ever so gently. You distantly wonder if he’s hard and leaving a stain through his own dress pants.

He gives a soft suck on your clit and your hips stutter, your breath catching in your chest as you feel that familiar pressure start building at the pit of your stomach. And it’s like he can immediately tell, because of course he can, and you suddenly feel one of his thick and long fingers enter you.

“Oh,” you gasp in surprise, eyes rolling back at the primal feeling of being filled. You wish it was his cock, God do you wish, but this is enough for now.

Aaron is still looking up at you and you can tell he’s about to move away to ask if this was okay, if you’re okay, but before he can, you put your leg on top of his shoulder and pull him in. You hope that that answers his question.

And because Aaron is Aaron and can somehow read your mind, he almost imperceptibly nods and puts his mouth on your clit again. His finger starts slow, despite how wet and open you are, as if he’s still teasing you. It’s almost enough for you; the steady sucking of your clit and something thick in your pussy, if he would only move a little faster.

“Harder, please, please,” you beg, unable to stop yourself, nearly babbling. It would be embarrassing if Aaron clearly didn’t like it based on the way he pushes his finger in deeper and harder, his sucking moving into hard licks to your clit.

It was good, so so good, and so intense that you wish you could swipe all of his files and folders off the desk and lay on your back to savor it. Instead, Aaron moves his tongue faster and that tidal wave is getting stronger. You instinctively push at Aaron’s head so you could catch your breath for at least a second because you don’t want this to be over just yet.

Aaron grunts and moves his free hand to your hip, grabbing you hard to keep you in your place. He inserts another finger, and it’s almost too much but it’s also just the right amount of fullness you want at the same time. He’s pumping them in and out of your wet pussy so fast, the lewd noises filling the office, maybe even carrying downstairs.

And then he’s curling his fingers just so, flicking your clit just so, and looking at you with eyes so dark and intense that you finally, finally come.

The shout of his name dies in your throat as you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, and feeling that blissful white-hot pleasure all over. Your pussy clenches around Aaron’s fingers as he keeps his fingers curled inside you. You can feel your hips stuttering, unable to make your mind up on whether to chase the feeling with his mouth or away, but Aaron makes that decision for you as his hand grips impossibly tighter and laps at your clit gently to help you ride out your orgasm.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you feel Aaron give a whisper of a kiss on your cunt, making you jump. He chuckles quietly and you blearily open your eyes to see him slowly standing up, hearing him groan when his knees pop. You don’t even have the mental capacity to make fun of him for it, especially when you see the look on his face as he steps closer between your shaking legs.

His hair is absolutely ruined thanks to your fingers and his eyes are soft with a touch of concern. There’s a near triumphant smug grin on his face, sweet dimples poking out, and the bottom half of his face is unquestionably glistening. He flicks a tongue out to lick his lips and you want him so bad.

You glance down and feel a shiver of pride and hunger when you see the line of his hard cock through his slacks, a wet spot barely visible.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nearly swoon at how low and deep his voice sounds. He uses his clean hand to swipe a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face and tuck it behind your ear. You can’t even imagine what a mess you look right now, face probably flushed and naked on his desk.

You nod, swallowing the dryness in your throat. His smile gets wider at that, if possible.

He leans in and gives you a gentle kiss and hums when you part your lips to taste yourself. The hand that’s migrated to cradle the back of your head trails down to the nape of your neck, gripping you in a way that was almost possessive. It’s hypnotizing and you feel breathless again at the thought of his hand around your throat.

You feel his cock pressing against your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most, and you reach to fiddle with his loosened tie before trailing it down his chest. You can feel his muscles flexing, his stomach tensing, before passing his belt and pressing your palm against him. “Can I…?”

He groans against your mouth before pulling away, leaning his forehead against yours. You can imagine the veins in his throat popping as he tries not to cant his hips against you.

You’re marveling at the size of him as you run your hand up and down his length. You had a feeling he was going to be big but not this big. Your mouth waters at the thought of him between your lips, hot and heavy, or pulsating in your pussy as he comes inside of you, filling you up. You can imagine his biceps tensing, the veins in his forearms showing, and the way his eyes would close as he chased his own orgasm.

So, you’re shocked and maybe a little offended when you feel Aaron’s fingers circling your wrist to pull your hand away.

“It’s okay,” he whispers against your lips before you could say anything.

“But I want to—”

“Not here,” he says, now rubbing your wrist like an afterthought. “I wanted to take care of you first.”

You huff a laugh, starting to understand now. Something warm unfurls in your chest at that. Aaron Hotchner had always seemed like the type to want to make the woman come first, maybe even multiple times before his own release.

He steps away, adjusting himself in his pants and fixing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes follow the motions, fixated on his hands, and for some reason you’re feeling hot again.

You must have made a noise because Aaron’s head whips up at you, that smug grin that he’s not even trying to hide anymore getting wider. He leans down to pick up your pants and helps you wriggle your panties back up your legs and to your hips. His hands linger on your inner thighs as if he can’t help himself and you notice his breath getting deeper, his mouth parted.

You’re just about to slide them off again, maybe even using your arm to finally slide all the papers on his desk off when he steps away again.

“My place?” He asks lowly. His gaze lingers on your thighs, your chest, and then back up to your face. The desire and want is plain as day on his face.

As if on cue, you hear the familiar sound of a custodial cart next door in Rossi’s office. Your heart leaps in your throat and you push off the desk to scramble and put your pants and sweater back on.

Aaron laughs at that, quietly again, as if they don’t work here and they’re about to get caught doing something they’re not supposed to be doing. Which, you guess, is somewhat true.

But then Aaron is on his knees again, your shoe in one hand and his fingers circling your ankle to lift up with the other as he looks up at you. His eyes are so sincere, sweet, as if he just didn’t give you the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life here in his office.

You smile at him, feeling the fondness grow impossibly larger in your chest, and let him help you put your shoes back.

You can return the favor in his bed.

#god forgive me please im so sorry #i havent written anything in forever and then i write this in a week lol like aight...#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner smut #mine #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine

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heavenlyraindrops · 6 months ago

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☆ “ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ.” | ᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous” | Chapter Two

☆ Warnings: profanity, blowjobs, light grinding, part two of a series but you can read it as a stand-alone too (the only context required: they fucked once before), author!reader, reader writes smut :)

☆ Word count: 2k, Available on: Tumblr, AO3

You stared at the phone clutched in your hands, held above your face. Ken’s number on the screen.

You’d gotten it about a week ago. You hadn’t spoken to him yet.

In all fairness, that was your fault. He didn’t have your number- you’d both been so dazed it was a miracle you’d remembered to ask him yourself, simply telling him you’d call him.

You hadn’t called him.

You sighed, your arms tiring out from the strain of holding up your phone, so you rolled onto your stomach, elbows digging into your bedsheets. The screen read the time- five to nine.

You bit your lip, and pressed the call button.

It took a couple of rings for him to pick up, and when he did, the silence was so deafening you didn’t even notice.

“Hello?” You asked tentatively.

“Hey- hey!” His voice was tired, weighed down by fatigue. It made something stir in between your legs. “[name]?”

“Yeah.” You ran your tongue over your lips nervously, listening to his soft breath on the other end of the line. “I’m not- I’m not bothering you, am I?” You asked weakly. He gave a low laugh, and oh my god it sounds so fucking hot.

“No,” he murmured. “You’re not bothering me.” Your chest untightened, despite the fact you could tell he sounds like he just woke up.

“Plus,” he continued, “If I got to hear your voice I’d hardly call it something bothering me.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, but didn’t say anything, biting the inside of your cheek.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t call, you know.” You eased yourself onto your side as he spoke, pressing the phone against your ear. “So. Did you need anything, or…”

“No,” you said quickly, then froze up, wondering if it came out wrong. “N-no, I mean, I just wanted to wish you… good luck on your game tomorrow.” You buried your face half into the pillow, wrapping an arm around it. “You probably don’t need it, but…”

A few seconds of silence ticked by, and you wondered if you had angered him, when he spoke up again, voice still hoarse with sleep and now seemingly laced with something else you couldn’t- could have deciphered. But you pushed the thought away from your brain.

“You wanted to wish me good luck?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

Your eyes became half lidded, as excitement raced through you. “Yeah,” you mumbled, lips still pressed against the soft fabric of your pillow cover.

“And you think I don’t need it.”

You hummed softly. “You’re a good player.”

He paused, amused. “I was under the impression you know nothing about baseball.”

You frowned. “Well, I’m not, just, like, saying it.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know.”

Your face suddenly grew hot, and not just at the nickname. Instead of insinuating you were just saying whatever came to mind to flatter him- was he implying that you specifically researched stuff for him? Or that maybe it was just him that you looked up?

Well, he was right. But that was far beyond the point.

“All I’m saying is that you’re a good player. You got a problem?” Your tone didn’t match your words at all.

“Nah… I actually quite like it when you compliment me. Go on, do it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. “You’re good at baseball.”

“That’s right. And what else am I good at?”

You froze, muscles tensing up, then fell back face first into your bed, buzzing with embarrassment. “Don’t push it, Ken,” you mumbled, face burning.

He laughed again, slightly breathless this time, and you pulled your hand up and trapped it under your chest to stop it from sliding down below your waist. “Tell you what, sweetheart. If you wanted to wish me good luck so badly you called me while I was asleep, late at night-“

Your chest tightened with anxiety.

“-maybe you should come over and wish me good luck personally.”

You immediately shot up out of bed, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at the screen. “Y-yeah?”

“If you’re down.” His voice suddenly sounded slightly nervous.

“Oh, I’m down.”

“Great. I’ll see you th-“

You immediately cut the call.

You kicked the covers off of your legs, hands searching blindly for your keys as you pulled on a hoodie. A notification popped up on your phone- his number, a single text message, and address.

Oh, Lord, thank you for forcing me to go outside and undergo true human interaction that fateful evening.

“Hey.”

You stood outside his door, face flushed from the cold and shivering with your hands buried in your pockets. He looked you up and down.

“You got here fast,” he murmured, and you shrugged nervously.

“Excited to see you,” you tried, and he laughed, hand reaching out, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling you inside, up against him for a split second before he moved away, much to your disappointment.

“Get comfortable,” he said, flicking his head at the couch. You pushed your fists back in your pockets, following him over, where he flopped down, tipping his head back. You went to sit next to him but he grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap.

You let out a sharp breath. “What are you doing.”

“Helping you get comfortable,” he said nonchalantly, slipping his digits in between yours, kissing your fingertips. A shiver shot up your spine, and he tilted his head. “You know what? Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” You echoed.

“Yeah, get to know each other better.”

“We got to know each other at the dinner,” you pointed out, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and after that too, right?” He remarked. Your face slowly turned red, making him grin. “And I said better, baby.”

“Fine, better. What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Just ask me a question.”

“Fine.” You thought hard, but with him pressed up against you, hands on your thighs, it was hard for you to think clearly. “How’d you get into baseball?”

He tilted his head. “It made my parents happy watching it, so I thought…” He looked down, and smiled softly. “I thought, if I could do that, if it would make them cheer like they-“ he sighed, cutting off his sentence. “Then I’d have to. You know?” His thumbs were rubbing circles into your skin.

You leaned over, running your hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “That’s… sweet, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you think it wasn’t gonna be?”

“Considering how you act-“ you jabbed him in the chest, and he smirked. “-no.”

“How exactly do I act?”

You paused, then frowned. “I don’t know, confident?”

His hand went from your thigh to your hip. “What’s wrong with that?”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” His fingers dug into your skin. “So, why’d you become an author?”

You swallowed. “I like stories.”

He laughed. “Is that it?”

You smacked his chest. “Obviously there’s more. I’m just not good with words.”

“You’d think, being an author…”

“Whatever!”

“Don’t you work with words for a living?”

You stayed silent for a moment, then sighed. “I started daydreaming a lot when I was younger. I figured, if I could put those dreams down on paper, like other authors did, bring them to life, make people feel things-“ you shrugged, embarrassed. “Look, I don’t know. It just started with a massive maladaptive daydreaming problem.”

“Right.” He hummed, fingers splaying across your skin, creeping under the hem of your top. “For the record, I think that’s sweet too, you know.”

Your other hand was still buried in his hair. “Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling his breath on your lips.

“Maybe I should read one of your books some time. They’re really popular, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, then your eyes suddenly widened. “No way. No, you’re not reading them.”

He laughed, amused. “Why not? What’s stopping me?”

You glared at him.

“What did you say you write?” He continued. “Romance?”

Your face burned as you quickly looked away. “It’s not just that, okay?”

He hummed, eyes fixed on your collarbone, a few faded, barely-visible bruises. “Right. You ever include, like, sexual stuff in your novels?”

You almost shot out of his lap and threw yourself out the window right then and there. “Huh?” You spluttered. “What do you mean?” Yes, yes I do.

“Like, smut, or whatever it’s called. You write that?”

“How’s that relevant?” Your voice was slowly rising in pitch, and he smirked.

“Nothing, just wondering why you don't want me to read your stuff so badly. Plus, I could figure out what you like.” He tapped his finger against your side, and you swallowed.

“I’d probably like anything you do,” you laughed, albeit breathlessly. He raised an eyebrow.

“Or you can tell me.”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He smirked, a subtle roll of his hips making him grind up against you not going unnoticed. You sucked in a harsh breath.

“I bet you write down every little fantasy you have onto that paper, yeah?”

“I type it,” you retorted, albeit breathless as your body responded to his touch, involuntarily bucking your hips. His grip on them tightened, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue.

“So you do write that sort of stuff.”

You bit your cheek to smother a whimper, instead worming your hand down to palm his growing bulge. His breath hitched visibly, a muscle in his neck tightening as you stroked gently.

“Maybe,” you breathed, eyes glittering.

Getting off of him, you sank to your knees, nestling yourself in between his legs. You pressed a kiss to the tented fabric, making him tense up underneath. “Now, you want me to ‘wish you good luck personally’ or not?”

Your hand unzipped his trousers, and you could feel him holding in a breath as you pulled his length from his boxers- throbbing, a pearl of precum on the tip. You could feel your saliva gathering in your mouth as you swiped your thumb across it, making him flinch and almost buck up into your hands.

“You know,” he said, voice wavering. “Maybe I’ll win the game from this alo-“ he cut off with a light groan, lips falling open and head tipping back as you pressed your lips to the tip, tongue flicking out in tentative kitten licks. You locked your eyes onto his as you dragged your lips down to his base, licking a long strip up his shaft. “Oh, fuck.”

You hummed, and he shuddered as your tongue languidly traced a vein, his eyes lidded as his hand came to bury itself in your hair.

Another curse, alongside your name, fell past his lips as you wrapped your lips around his head properly this time, trying to take in as much of him as possible. It hit the back of your throat, which tightened, tears springing to your eyes.

“Oh yeah baby, just like that,” he breathed, voice shaky as you bobbed your head up and down, hips bucking needily against you as he collapsed into a few groans and murmured praises. His grip on your hair tightened. “Fuck [name] I think I’m going to cu-“

You simply hummed in response, vibrations running down his shaft and making him twitch, eyes innocent and wide-eyed, a betrayal of your lewd position.

The look alone was enough to tip him over the edge, and his fingers curled around your locks, yanking your head away from him as he shook, his cum dripping down his length. You reached for the box of tissues on the table.

After cleaning up, he looked down at you, and frowned. You tilted your head. “What?”

“You have a little…” cupping your face in both hands, he pulled it to his, tongue darting out to lick up a trickle of saliva that had escaped the corner of your mouth. It made you burn with desire, and you turned slightly to press his lips against yours.

“Good luck,” you whispered against him, and he pressed back in, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

“After I win,” he breathed, “I’m taking you on a proper date.”

You flushed. He pulled away, your chin in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him.

“And that’s a promise.”

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boopshoops · 1 year ago

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KJNGDSKJGNSDKJGNSDKJ ITS FINALLY FINISHED!! ITS DONE!! AFTER 57 HOURS OF WORK!!!!

I am so so so so so happy with how this turned out. This is the official teaser comic for my fanfic, The Creation of a Villain, available to read on my AO3.

I have so much planned, and I'm gradually restoring a healthy relationship with my writing, and I'm very excited to share it.

For those who are interested, I've got a few more teasers on what I have planned in store. (Marked with * if it contains mild spoilers for TCOAV)

-Adding onto the established magic system.

-Adding onto established classes/lessons.

-*MC happens to be just as horrible of a person as most of the students here, resulting in some gradual changes to the canon that become more and more noticeable as time passes.

-It's an aged up AU where NRC is an actual college, so characters get mild additions to backstories (as well as some height changes).

-*Lots of possible headcanons for Royal Sword Academy, including a B/side plot with another MC that is a student there.

-Inclusion of canon events, as well as some I create on my own.

-I love exploring character development, so there's gonna be more of that :>

-*She does, indeed, get attached.

-A lot more!!!

Thank you so so so so so so SO much for reading. It means a lot to me. If you have the time, I would REALLY appreciate a reblog given this took so much time to make. If not, that's alright too. I appreciate y'all either way <3

Expect more of this Yuu in the future! An official introduction post for her is planned and will soon be in the works.

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whenikissedthegiyuu · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 2024

Clothed Sex w/ Tomioka Giyuu

word count 977

18+ mdni. fem!reader, smut, making out, came out shorter and fluffier than i expected, sex (p in v), riding, missionary, holding hands, breeding kink if you kinda squint, oral sex (f receiving but it’s a crumb don’t get excited), pet names (sweetheart, darling), written in 2nd pov

kinktober 2024 mlist can also read on ao3

You glanced up at the sound of a door sliding open, Giyuu’s body visibly relaxed when he found you outside sitting in the garden of his estate. You grinned when he walked out on the engawa and stood up.

He sat down at the edge with a sigh, eyes following you as you shortened the distance until you stood between his legs and cupped his cheeks. He closed his eyes and held onto your wrists when you started rubbing your thumbs right underneath his eyes.

“Missed you.” He murmured, tugging your hands away from his cheeks to press his lips to your knuckles. “I’m never going on a mission with Shinazugawa again.”

He leaned forward to press his lips against yours, lingering for a moment before he grabbed your waist to pick you up so you would straddle his lap. You squealed in surprise and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him as you adjusted your position until you were comfortable.

“I missed you too.” You murmured against his lips before pulling back. You weren’t able to go too far before he was leaning toward you to kiss you again.

His tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, his hands moving down to your thighs and squeezing gently.

“Are you going to let me pull away anytime soon?” Your fingers tangled with his raven hair, tugging his hair back to look into his eyes. He answered with a simple shake of his head before he kissed you again.

Giyuu was usually clingy when he came back from missions. He would drag you to bed and snuggle with you for hours, just feeling your warmth in his arms as he rested. What was unusual, however, was the way his hand was creeping under your yukata.

He pulled away from your lips with a groan when he felt you were bare underneath. “It’s like you’re asking to be fucked.” His lips moved to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking until your skin glistened with his spit.

“Didn’t feel like wearing much today.” You raised yourself on your knees and reached between your bodies to push his pants and underwear down just barely enough for him to pull his dick out. “You came home earlier than expected. I was actually going to wait for you in bed completely naked.”

He pulled you back down, his tip pressing against your entrance. He seemed too impatient for teasing. Whatever argument he got into with Sanemi, made him too pent up to take it slow like he usually did.

Your head fell forward, tucking into the crook of his neck as he slid inside you. You sat there for a moment as you unbuttoned the first buttons of his uniform to press your lips to his pale skin. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned back until he was laying on the floor. He thrusted up into you, hips stuttering when you accidentally bit down too hard on his neck in surprise.

“Sorry.” You gasped as he started thrusting harder, his hands moving to your hips to guide you to meet his thrusts halfway. He grunted in response, then he pushed you to lay on your back and he climbed on top of you.

You whined at the sudden emptiness. He leaned forward, kissing you again until you were breathless and your walls clenched in protest. He slid back inside you in one slow, deep thrust, your legs coming up to wrap around his hips to pull him in. He grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers to pin them above your head.

His pace gradually quickened, his lips pressed against your cheek when you turned your head to the side so you could breathe. He panted and moaned against your skin, the sounds making you clench around him.

Untangling his fingers from yours, he leaned his weight on one arm and moved his newly freed hand to your chest to cup your breast through your clothes. Your back arched to push your tits into his touch, his name leaving you in a whimper.

“I’m close, sweetheart.” Giyuu whispered, his blue eyes meeting your gaze when you turned your head. “Where do you want me?”

Your legs tightened around him at the thought of him pulling out. His hand squeezed yours. “Inside, please.”

His lips parted at the utterly desperate tone, but he quickly recovered and started snapping his hips forward harder. “So polite, darling. How can I say no to you when you ask me like that?” He tugged at your bottom lip when you pulled it between your teeth. “Wanna hear your pretty sounds. Don’t hide them from me if you want my cum deep inside you.”

He adjusted the angle of his thrusts, easily finding your g-spot. Your eyes rolled back as you were suddenly pushed over the edge. You hadn’t even felt the build up of your orgasm. A loud, whiny moan escaped past your lips, your clit throbbing against his pelvis.

He came with a groan of your name. Your hips bucked up into his as he filled you, your painted walls squeezing around him, milking his orgasm. He pressed his forehead against yours, taking a moment to regain his breath before he let go of your hand so he could sit up. You watched his lips twitch at the squelching sound when he shallowly thrusted into you twice before his cock slid out of you.

He reached for the obi and pulled until it was untied and he could push open your yukata. Your nipples hardened immediately once you were completely exposed to his hungry gaze. He twisted you around until you were on your hands and knees, then his mouth was on your cunt.

You found yourself already looking forward to the next time he arrived this needy from a mission.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny #giyuu tomioka #kny tomioka #demon slayer tomioka #tomioka giyuu #kinktober 2024 #giyuu x reader #tomioka x reader #tomioka smut #demon slayer giyuu #kny giyuu #giyuu smut

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yourlocaljonghoe · 16 days ago

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Familiar Stranger. || Kim Hongjoong.

Summary: you and hongjoong have known each other for over 20 years now. growing up side by side, graduating, marrying and having your own family was tough, but kim hongjoong had always been a constant in your life. now, in your late 30s, you suddenly find yourself divorced, and hongjoong’s wife just left him as well. your children are devastated, and for the sake of keeping them occupied, you try to urge them to spend much time with each other on a holiday trip. but what happens if things change? what happens if suddenly, you develop feelings for a man you considered nothing but a friend your whole life?

Pairing: kim hongjoong x reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, angst if you squint, smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 24.2k

Warnings: both reader and hj are in their late 30s, minseo & yena are around 14 and hanbin around 9, chubby!reader (though it isnt really mentioned until the smut part) mentions of emotional partner abuse and cheating, child neglect (kinda?) body insecurities, body worship, fingering, sex toys, use of pet names, oral (m. & f. receiving) if I missed smth pls lmk!

A/N: i am not happy with this fic (i even cried a little tbh i spent so much time on it and unfortunately just really really dislike it now) and towards the end, it gets pretty rushed and i want to apologize for that, i just got really frustrated. its also not proof read which will probably be very visible rip. now onto the important part tho: hello @owlbeforesunset, i was your secret santa for @cromernet! i really hope you like this even if its super messy sksksksk and im wishing you the best christmas ever!! may you and your loved ones be happy and healthy forever <33 as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics! Edit: since im dumb i forgot to add the playlist i made specifically for this fic. its the first time i made smth like this so i hope you all enjoy <33

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

April, 2003.

Heavy rain pelted against the windows. It was loud and distracting, but you tried your best to focus on the task at hand: getting dressed in your sexiest outfit ever.

God, how excited you were. Your first ever party!

You grabbed the black tank top from the pile on your bed, biting your lip as you held it up. It was cropped, barely grazing your waist, and you'd never actually worn it out. But tonight was different. You wanted to stand out, feel a little bolder today. You slipped it over your head, adjusting the straps until it sat just right, revealing just enough to feel sexy but still comfortable.

Next, you reached for your favorite skirt - a dark denim piece that you usually reserved for special occasions. It hit mid-thigh, shorter than anything you usually wore. You turned left and right in front of the mirror, checking the whole look with a grin, feeling that sweet buzz of excitement stir within you.

Today, you were feeling rebellious, and you thanked the heavens that your parents weren't home to see that side of you.

After a quick swipe of lip gloss and a final tousle of your hair, you stepped back to take in the full outfit. This was new, a little edgy, but it was exactly how you wanted to show up tonight.

And then, you heard a car honk outside.

Three times, to be exact.

It told you that Hongjoong had arrived to pick you up.

You grabbed your coat and dashed outside, leaping from the front porch to avoid the small puddles pooling on the driveway. The cold rain splattered down, but it did nothing to cool down the rush of excitement as you ran towards Hongjoong's car.

As soon as you reached it, he leaned over to unlock the door, his eyes widening as he noticed you through the rain. You quickly pulled the door open and slid into the passenger seat, the warm interior pulling a happy sigh from your lips. Without thinking, you then stood up halfway in the seat, turning to give him a full view of your outfit. You did a quick spin, showing off the crop top and skirt, a big, proud smile practically glued to your face.

“Well?” You laughed, tilting your head at him.

He blinked, visibly taken aback, and then grinned in that lopsided, mischievous way of his. “Damn, look at you!” he said, dragging his gaze over you with obvious approval in his eyes. “That’s exactly the look. You look perfect! He will definitely notice you now!”

“And she will definitely notice you too!”

She was the girl who had captured his attention since the first day of school. And as much as you wanted to tease him about that hopeless crush of his, you found yourself rooting for him. He really liked her, and it was kind of cute to see your best friend so head over heels in love. “You’re going to knock her off her feet, Hongjoong. Look at you!”

Kim Hongjoong looked as stunning and unique as always. Tonight, he'd gone for an avant-garde vibe, somehow mixing and layering pieces that should've clashed but just… worked. He wore a dark, oversized blazer with bold white stitching tracing down its seams, a design you knew he’d likely stitched himself. Underneath, he wore a fitted, high-neck black shirt that hugged his frame, and chains draped across his chest in varying lengths. The pants he wore were his own design as well - fitted and flared at the bottom, with artful rips along the thighs revealing hints of his skinny, toned legs beneath. He’d accessorized with rings on nearly every finger, a thick cuff around his wrist, and one of his trademark berets, tilted slightly to the side.

And then, his favorite touch: eyeliner, just enough to make his eyes dark and intense, while still looking like the nice and approachable boy you knew him as.

All in all: your best friend looked as stunning as always.

You couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach as you caught his gaze lingering on you as well. Outside, the rain was steady, streaking the windows as the car drove through the streets.

“So, what’s your plan tonight?” he asked. “Besides making him notice you, of course.”

“Maybe dance. Maybe get him in my bed,” you said with a smirk, earning an exaggerated grimace from Hongjoong.

“Ugh. Spare me the details.”

You both laughed, and you elbowed him playfully as he drove through the streets.

The drive stretched on, the rain creating a soothing pitter-patter against the windows. The streetlights you passed were illuminating Hongjoong’s sharp features perfectly as you looked at him. You couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, appreciating the pretty man your best friend had become over the years.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “what about you? Big plans tonight?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You know, if she shows up.”

“Oh, she’ll be there,” you teased, poking his arm. “She's at every party. Plus you’ve been talking about her all week. She’d be insane not to notice you tonight.”

He glanced at you briefly, his smile turning a bit shy. “I hope so. But hey, even if she doesn’t… tonight’s about having fun. About us, okay? Let's just try and have a good time anyways.”

“Agreed,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Let’s make this the best night ever.”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Deal.”

He pulled up to the venue after another few minutes. As you both stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets hit your heated skin as you raced to the entrance, and you laughed as you arrived first.

Once you opened the heavy door together, the atmosphere inside immediately enveloped fully. The sound of music echoed through the air, and the whole crowd pulsed with energy. You spotted familiar faces, friends and acquaintances already dancing and chatting, and your heart raced with excitement. This was it.

“Okay,” Hongjoong said, leaning in closer so you could hear him over the music. “Let’s try not to get separated. Want a drink?”

“Sure,” you replied. You could barely hear your own voice over the thumping bass of the music. You tugged at his sleeve to pull him toward the makeshift bar set up in the corner of the room. A string of colorful lights hung over your heads, casting shifting hues of red and blue across the room and its people. The whole place smelled of sweat, too much perfume, and a faint trace of spilled beer and vomit.

Hongjoong weaved through the crowd effortlessly, his small frame slipping between clusters of people like a ghost. You followed closely, clutching your purse harder to avoid hitting any strangers.

When you finally reached the bar, Hongjoong leaned in close to your ear again. “What’s your poison of choice tonight? Beer? Something stronger?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your chin theatrically. “Surprise me,” you said, flashing him a grin.

His brows arched playfully, and he turned to flag down the guy working the bar - a classmate you vaguely recognized but didn’t know well. After a brief exchange, Hongjoong handed you a plastic cup filled with something neon pink and fizzy.

“Taste test,” he prompted, watching your reaction closely as you took a cautious sip.

The drink was sweet, with just enough of a bite to remind you it was still alcoholic. You licked your lips, nodding in approval. “Not bad. What is it?”

He smirked. “No idea. Just told him to make it fun.”

You laughed, raising the cup in a mock toast. “To fun, then.”

“To fun,” he echoed, clinking his own drink against yours before taking a big sip.

The two of you leaned back against the bar, scanning the room and taking it all in. It was packed, the dance floor a mass of sweaty bodies against bodies illuminated by the cheap neon light. You spotted a few more familiar faces but didn’t immediately see the person you were hoping to impress tonight.

“See him yet?” Hongjoong asked, his gaze flicking toward you.

You shook your head, feeling slightly disappointed. “Not yet. You?”

He scanned the room again, his eyes lingering near a group of girls huddled together by the DJ booth. When he looked back at you, his grin was wide and genuine. “She’s here.”

Your brows shot up. “Where?”

He gestured subtly with his chin, and you followed his gaze. Sure enough, there she was - wearing a sleek black dress that clung to her in all the right ways, her head thrown back in laughter as she chatted with her friends.

“She looks amazing,” you said honestly, nudging him. “Go talk to her.”

Hongjoong hesitated, biting his lip. “Not yet. Need a little more liquid courage first.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink. “Fine, but don’t chicken out, okay? Tonight’s your night.”

“And yours,” he reminded you, bumping your shoulder lightly.

“Damn right,” you said, your confidence starting to show by the alcohol starting to settle warmly in your veins.

The music shifted then. Instead of the slow song that played when you two got here, it now switched to a faster pop-song that made the room errupt in cheers. Hongjoong turned to you, his eyes sparkling.

“Dance floor?” he asked.

“Hell yes,” you replied without hesitation, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the mass of people.

The moment you stepped onto the dance floor, the music seemed to consume you entirely. You let yourself sway to the beat, your earlier nerves melting away completely. Hongjoong danced beside you, his movements fluid as always. At least one of you could dance. Unfortunately, it definitely wasn't you.

At some point, you caught sight of him watching you. He stood near the edge of the crowd, a solo cup in one hand, his eyes fixed squarely on you.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Joong,” you hissed, tugging on his sleeve. “He’s looking at me!”

Hongjoong followed your gaze, a grin splitting across his face. “Told you he wouldn’t be able to resist. Go say hi!”

“I can’t just walk up to him,” you said, your voice a little panicked.

“Yes, you can. Trust me, you look amazing. He’s already hooked.”

You hesitated, your feet rooted in place despite the music urging you to move.

Hongjoong gave you a gentle shove in his direction. “Go! I’ll be here if you need a rescue mission.”

Shooting your best friend one last look, you smoothed down your skirt, drew in a steadying breath, and walked toward him, heart pounding with each step. His dark eyes locked onto yours almost immediately, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he tipped his cup slightly in acknowledgment.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline rushing through you.

“Hey yourself,” he replied smoothly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

His name was Jang Hyunwoo, a senior just a year above you and Hongjoong. Known for his devastating good looks, he was every girl's dream and you were not immune to him. At all. In fact, the first time you saw him, it felt like the world narrowed to just… him.

You still remembered it.

He was leaning against the chain-link fence outside school, cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers, dark eyes unreadable beneath heavy lashes. He’d glanced up, meeting your gaze with a look so piercing it made your heart skip a beat or two.

“Got a light?” he’d asked, voice low and lazy.

You didn’t even smoke, but you found yourself fumbling for a lighter borrowed from a friend. His fingers brushed yours as he took it, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

From that moment, you were hooked. He was magnetic in a way that felt dangerous - intense and so, so unreachable. But when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing that mattered… it was impossible not to fall.

From that day on, Jung Hyunwoo became your addiction.

And right now, his tall frame leaned against the wall with an effortless confidence, a single silver chain glinting against the black of his fitted shirt. He radiated that dangerous allure you just couldn’t seem to resist.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Thought I’d check it out.”

His eyes traced over you slowly, appreciatively. “You definitely made the right call.”

Your cheeks heated, but before you could respond, you noticed someone approaching Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye. She practically slithered up to him, wrapping an arm possessively around his waist.

Kang Minji.

She was stunning, really, with long, glossy hair and an effortless sense of style that made her look straight out of a magazine. But there was something else you noticed about here. Something in the sharpness of her gaze, the way her perfectly manicured nails dug into Hongjoong’s side just a little too firmly, sent a chill down your spine. And you did not even understand why.

“Joongie,” she cooed, tilting her head in mock surprise. “Didn’t think you’d make it tonight.”

Hongjoong’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered, offering her a charming, yet shy grin. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

You watched as Minji’s eyes flicked to you, quickly looking you up and down, before returning to Hongjoong as though you weren’t even there. Something about the possessiveness in her expression made you immediately feel uneasy.

You thought about saying something to Hongjoong, about warning him - there was something weird about her, about the way her smile never quite reached her eyes when she looked at him. But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, you shoved it down. After all, your own situation wasn’t exactly better, was it?

Hyunwoo’s fingers pressed firmly into your waist, his touch feeling equal parts thrilling and dangerous. His gaze held yours with that familiar intensity, sharp and consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing.

Who were you to judge Hongjoong when you were just as caught up in someone toxic you couldn’t seem to quit?

So, you said nothing. You let the thought dissolve, swallowed by the pounding bass and the heat of Hyunwoo’s hand still holding you close.

“So, you two know each other?” Hyunwoo’s voice drew your attention back to him.

“Yeah, Joong’s my best friend,” you explained, smiling despite the tension forming between you four. “We came together.”

Hyunwoo’s smirk widened, and his grip around you tightened. “Interesting.”

Before you could decipher his meaning, Minji’s laugh rang out, sharp and so… wrong. “Best friend, huh? That’s cute.”

Her words felt like a subtle warning, though you couldn’t quite place why. Hongjoong’s expression shifted, discomfort flashing in his dark eyes, but he said nothing.

“Dance with me,” Hyunwoo suggested, pulling your focus back. His gaze was intense, daring you to say no.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Okay.”

The music was so loud as Hyunwoo pulled you onto the dance floor. His grip on your waist was firm, guiding you effortlessly through all the sweaty bodies. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his intense gaze never leaving yours as the world blurred into a haze of flashing lights and unrecognizable sounds.

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, breath hitching as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your waist. His touch burned through the thin fabric of your shirt, making your skin tingle with anticipation. He smelled like spice and something else equally addictive - the perfect blend of danger and temptation.

Before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours, hard and demanding. His hand tangled in your hair while the other stayed on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You gasped into the kiss, overwhelmed but unable to stop yourself from further melting into him.

The intensity of it all left you breathless. He dominated you so effortlessly, pressing hard into every movement, every touch. You barely registered the crowd around you anymore, the dance floor fading into the background as you clung to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His lips were warm and insistent, tasting faintly of the drink he’d been having earlier.

For a quick second, a flicker of anxiety flooded your chest, but before you could pull away, your gaze drifted past Hyunwoo’s shoulder - and froze.

There, against the far wall, you saw Hongjoong. His back was pressed against the worn brick, his hands tangled possessively in Minji’s hair as she kissed him hard and without any mercy. Her body was pressed against his, leaving no room for air between them. His eyes were closed, completely lost in the heat of the moment.

Something inside you twisted sharply, equal parts jealousy and defiance. If Hongjoong could do it, lose himself like that… why couldn’t you?

Your fingers tightened around Hyunwoo’s shirt as you surged forward in a sudden boost of confidence, matching his intensity with a newfound determination that even surprised yourself. If this was how the night was going to go, then you wouldn’t hold back. Not anymore.

Hyunwoo groaned against your lips, clearly pleased by your sudden boldness. His hands roamed freely now, sliding down your back to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard press of his body against yours, his need unmistakable and intoxicating.

Your nails raked down his chest, earning a hiss of approval from him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees tremble. His control was absolute, his touch possessive, as though staking a claim that he had no intention of releasing.

And for now, you let him. You surrendered to it all, the reckless, thrilling haze, pushing down every lingering thought of Hongjoong and Minji. Tonight, you’d let yourself go - consequences be damned.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“H-huh?”

You didn’t even notice you had moved, too consumed by his mouth and hands everywhere, but as you opened your eyes again, he was standing at the bottom of a dimly lit staircase, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something you couldn’t quite name. “Come on,” he coaxed, voice low and hoarse. “It’s too loud out here.”

The way he said it sounded reasonable, almost thoughtful - because he was right, it was way, way too loud in here - but the way his hand lingered on your waist told a different story. His touch was too sure, too expectant as if a no from you wasn't even a question.

Your gaze darted around the room, searching for any sign of Hongjoong. He’d always been your anchor in situations like this - your safe space. But he was nowhere in sight. Your stomach twisted as you recalled the way Minji had pulled him into the shadows, her grip just as firm as Hyunwoo’s was now.

He’s fine, you told yourself. He wanted this. He chose this.

So why did you suddenly feel so… alone?

“I- maybe we should stay down here,” you suggested hesitantly, voice trembling despite your attempt to sound casual. “We could… get another drink?”

Hyunwoo’s expression darkened ever so slightly, a flicker of irritation flashing through his gaze before he smoothed it over with a practiced smile. “You nervous?” he asked, stepping closer until your back pressed against the wall. His voice was soft now, almost tender. “I’m not gonna hurt you, baby.”

The pet name sent an involuntary shiver down your spine - not from endearment, but from the way it felt like a trap snapping shut around you. And you, like the prey you were, stepped right into it.

His fingers brushed along your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Did you? You weren’t sure anymore.

His thumb traced slow circles against your cheek, deceptively gentle. “We’ve been dancing around this for months… You know you want this too.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming wildly beneath his touch. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, suffocating - but intoxicating in the worst way. Every instinct told you to push him away, to leave - but then you thought about Hongjoong, likely wrapped up in Minji somewhere upstairs, completely consumed by her.

Hyunwoo’s lips brushed against your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Just you and me,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous promise. “No one else matters tonight.”

And then, you finally gave in. He quickly grabbed you and searched for an empty room upstairs, and as the door clicked shut behind you, sealing you inside the dim, quiet room, you couldn’t shake the haunting certainty that neither you nor Hongjoong would leave this night the same - both now bound to people who would ruin you in ways you were only beginning to understand years later.

August, 2024.

It was late when your shift finally ended.

You walked into the house, the door giving squeaking like always as you stepped inside. Silence was all you were greeted with when you closed the front door behind you. You kicked off your shoes by the door and set your bag down on the counter, your gaze lingering on the empty kitchen. It had been a while since you truly noticed the quiet - or since you were involuntarily forced to.

It was late, and you were tired; it was the kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones after a long day of work, and the weight of your thoughts felt even heavier now that you were home.

You hadn’t expected to feel this way even after the divorce, but the ache was still there, lingering. For the longest time, you'd convinced yourself it was all manageable - that it would get better, that you could make it work.

But now, standing in the middle of the house that once held the warmth and laughter of a family, you couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

Your marriage to Hyunwoo had been tiring and oh so toxic, and it all actually started the day you two had met. It was easy to look back now and see the signs - the subtle ways he began to change over the years, the evergrowing distance between you two. He’d started out so passionate about you and your whole relationship. But after the children came, or maybe even before, things shifted. His kindness faded into passive aggression, and then to blatant cruelty in the smallest, quietest ways.

At first, you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t that bad. After all, there were still moments that felt like the old him - the laughter over dinner, the rare but sweet gestures. But those moments became fewer and fewer, and the weight of his silence began to feel heavier than anything else.

You had learned to shut down, to bite your tongue, to keep the peace - all for the sake of your children. You didn’t want them to see the cracks. You didn’t want them to know that the man you married, the man they adored, was also the one who’d made you feel small, insignificant, and alone in your own home.

You’d stayed for them - for Minseo and Hanbin - hoping, wishing, that somehow you could protect them from it all.

It had been easier to stay. Easier to pretend that things were fine. But somewhere along the way, you stopped lying to yourself. The emotional abuse had become too much to ignore.

You had loved him once. So deeply that the idea of leaving him seemed impossible, even when your soul and entire being felt suffocated by his cruelty. But one day, you woke up to the reality that you couldn’t keep living like that - not for yourself, not for your children.

The divorce had been your only choice, even if it felt like it would destroy everything you had built.

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning against the counter, remembering those last weeks of you and Hyunwoo together - how every conversation felt like a battle, how every attempt at talking about it was met with denial, with anger.

And now, here you were. No more pretending. No more covering up. You had taken that step, for yourself and for your children, even if they couldn’t understand it yet.

A sigh escaped you as you shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away. You had a family to focus on, children who needed you.

But sometimes, even now, the silence of this house felt like a heavy reminder of everything you had lost - and everything you still had to rebuild very slowly and carefully.

“Where have you been?”

You stood in the doorway, the exhaustion from the long shift still weighing you down as you noticed Minseo’s presence in the living room. Her face was half-lit by the soft glow of her phone screen. She didn’t even look up when you entered.

“Hey, sorry sweetie,” you said, trying to sound as normal as possible, trying to hide how tired you were. “A coworker got sick, and I had to take over her shift.”

Minseo didn’t respond immediately, her eyes glued to the phone, her thumb scrolling lazily across the screen. The silence between you stretched out uncomfortably.

You waited, half-expecting some kind of acknowledgment, but she remained absorbed in her own world. The way she looked at you - or rather, didn’t look at you - felt like a sharp reminder of how far apart the two of you were drifting.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, not sure what to do. Normally, she would’ve greeted you with at least a half-hearted "Hi" or some sort of remark, but today, there was nothing. Just the quiet thrum of the phone as she typed.

You forced a smile, trying to bridge the gap. “How was your day?”

Nothing. Minseo didn’t even acknowledge you. Her eyes stayed on her phone, lips pressed into a thin line. The absence of the usual warmth in her voice made the silence so much louder, and it hit you harder than anything else. She wasn’t just quiet tonight. She was actively shutting you out.

You cleared your throat softly, trying again. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Mm-hmm,” Minseo murmured, not bothering to look up. Her response was clipped, as though she was only offering the bare minimum of interaction required. You could feel the coldness seeping into the space between you.

You stood there, your hands hanging awkwardly by your sides, unsure how to proceed. The room felt heavy, and the quiet seemed so much louder with her refusal to meet your gaze. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong, only that something was different now. Something had changed, and it hurt more than you were ready to admit.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” you said, the words barely escaping your throat.

You turned toward the kitchen, sighing and not expecting anything else out of your daughter tonight. But then: “Hanbin’s crying, by the way.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of your son’s name, and you quickly turned to face Minseo, who was still engrossed in her phone.

“Why? What happened?!” you asked, your voice a little more urgent now.

Minseo didn't look up, her fingers still scrolling across the screen. “He tried calling Dad again. And... I guess he’s not picking up.” Her words came out flat, emotionless, as if she was just telling you about the weather today.

You felt a pang in your chest at the thought of Hanbin, still too small to fully grasp the situation. All he wanted was to reach out to his father, to talk to him just like he always did. It was something you had feared - the growing distance between Hyunwoo and the kids. It wasn’t just that he had stopped being the man you married, but now his absence had begun to seep into their lives too.

You didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, you let out a long sigh and walked toward the stairs, your legs feeling heavier and heavier with each step.

You hadn’t even realized how scared you were of this happening. But now, standing in the hallway at the foot of Hanbin’s door, you couldn’t run from it any longer.

You knocked gently. “Hanbin?”

A faint, muffled sob reached your ears from inside. Your stomach twisted at the sound.

The door creaked open, and you found him curled up on his bed, his small body trembling with each sob. His phone was clenched tightly in his hands, the screen still lit up, but there were no new messages, no notifications. Just an unanswered call to his father.

Your heart broke all over again as you knelt beside him. “Hey, buddy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his back gently. “What happened?”

Hanbin wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, his little eyes red and puffy from all the crying. “Dad... he didn’t answer,” he sniffled, his voice cracking. “He promised. He said he would talk to me every day... but he didn’t. I don’t know what I did wrong…”

You almost started crying too. How could you explain this to him? How could you make him understand that this was something that wasn’t his fault, but that there was also nothing you could do to change it?

You sat down next to him, pulling him into a tight embrace, feeling his small body shake with every sob. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hanbin. It’s not your fault.”

“I want to talk to him. Why doesn’t he want to talk to me, mommy?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. The words hit you harder than anything else he could have said.

You gently rocked him back and forth, trying to find the right words, but you knew that nothing would take away your son's pain.

You wanted so badly to make everything better for him, to explain it in a way that would help him understand. But it was all too complicated, and you didn't know if a 9 year old like him could already understand.

“Hey,” you said softly, pulling back a little to look into his tear-streaked face. “Maybe you can tell me about your day, okay? I’d love to hear about it.”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. His wide eyes met yours for a moment before dropping to the bed. “You’re not daddy,” he muttered. “I can't talk to you about everything I talk to him...”

Your heart broke a little more. He was right. You weren’t his father. You couldn’t fix this for him. But you weren’t going to let him think that you didn’t care, either.

“You're right,” you said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I’m not daddy. But I do care about you. I care about everything you’re feeling right now.”

Hanbin sniffled again, his face scrunching up as though he was trying to hold it all together. "But it’s not the same," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I just want to talk to him."

You didn’t know what to say. The silence that followed felt heavy, and you just continued to quietly hold him against you. The words hovered in the air between you, but you had no answers. You knew that Hanbin needed his father - he needed a male figure who understood him, someone who was supposed to be there for him.

But there was another thought that nagged at the back of your mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could talk to someone else. Someone who could listen. Someone who understood, even if it wasn’t his father.

“Hanbin,” you said, your voice quiet but firm, “what if you talked to Uncle Hongjoong instead? You know he’s always there for you.”

The idea hung in the air for a moment, and Hanbin’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a flicker of hope in his gaze. But then he shook his head slowly.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, turning his face away, staring at the wall as though it could somehow block out everything else. "He’s not... not dad."

It hit you harder than you expected - the realization that even Hongjoong, someone who had been a part of your family for so long, couldn’t replace the hole that Hyunwoo had left. Hanbin had known him since birth, had shared so many memories with him, yet in that moment, he wanted no one else but Hyunwoo. Not even Hongjoong whom he usually adored so much.

“I know, buddy,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms again, wishing you could somehow make it all go away. “I get it. But you don’t have to be alone with this. We’re all here for you, okay? You can always talk to me, even if I’m not daddy.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything more. His small body trembled a little less, but the sadness still lingered of course. You wished there was a way to make it magically disappear, but unfortunately, you were just a human with no such power.

You held him there for a while, neither of you saying anything. You didn’t need to.

Finally, Hanbin pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes and looking up at you. “Can we try calling dad again tomorrow?”

You nodded, even though you knew that it was unlikely anything would change. “Of course, we can. We’ll try again.”

You gently wiped away the last of Hanbin’s tears and let out a soft sigh.

“How about you go to bed now, hm?” you asked softly, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “Don't you have your math test tomorrow?”

Hanbin sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But... what if I don't do good?”

You smiled faintly, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “You're going to do great. You always do, Hanbin. You're so smart. I believe in you.”

His eyes glimmered with a small trace of hope at your words, and he gave you a weak nod, though the uncertainty still lingered in his gaze.

“Okay,” he muttered, still sounding unsure, but he allowed you to tuck him in nonetheless.

“And hey,” you added, your voice soft but warm, “I'll make you your favorite breakfast tomorrow, okay? Pancakes, right?”

Hanbin’s eyes lightened up at the mention of pancakes, and despite the lingering sadness on his face, he offered you a small, tired smile. “Thanks, mommy.”

Your heart clenched a little, but you smiled back, brushing a hand through his messy hair one last time before standing up from the side of his bed.

“Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hanbin whispered, closing his eyes as he settled further into his blankets.

By the time you made your way back downstairs, Minseo had already retreated back to her room. Her door was closed, and the only thing indicating she was still awake was the soft music coming from her phone.

You wanted so badly to knock and wish her a goodnight, but you knew not to push your luck. For now, all you could do was respect her space.

And so, you stepped outside onto the front porch, the cool night air brushing against your face. The whole neighbourhood was silent, and only a few streetlights lit up the street. As your gaze swept over the yard, your eyes landed on the porch next door and onto the man sitting there.

Kim Hongjoong.

He looked different, though. His shoulders were slightly slumped, as if the weight of something heavy rested on them. His hair, always so carefully styled, had grown a little longer, falling messily across his forehead. He wore a black hoodie and a pair of dark jeans, his hands tucked into the pockets, his expression unreadable. Even in the dim light, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines of stress that hadn’t been there before.

The sight of him like this hurt. You'd always admired Hongjoong for his energy, his fire, his passion about even the smallest things, but tonight, he looked... broken.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over to his porch. “Hey,” you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up at you, and the corner of his lips curled into a faint, almost sad smile. “Hey. Didn’t expect you to be out this late.”

You gave a small shrug. “Had a long shift. The kids are okay for now, so I thought I’d get some air.”

He nodded, glancing at the empty space beside him. “Wanna join me?”

You stepped up, taking a seat next to him, the familiar creak of the old wood beneath you a reminder of how many times you'd sat here before, talking, laughing, even crying. It used to be different. You used to talk about everything, and you could always count on him to make things feel a little lighter, a little more bearable.

But tonight, there was an awkward tension between you two, the kind that comes from years of shared history and sudden distance. The silence stretched for a while, neither of you willing to break it, both lost in your own thoughts.

Finally, Hongjoong spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “How are things... at home?”

You glanced at him, unsure whether to give him a real answer. But then you realized that maybe, just for tonight, you should. For your own sake. “It’s been hard. Minseo’s shutting me out more than usual, and Hanbin... he’s not doing too good either. He tried calling Hyunwoo again. No answer, of course.”

Hongjoong sighed, his gaze turning to the distant streetlights. “I’m sorry, I know that’s got to be tough. For you and the kids.”

You nodded, looking down at your hands. “It’s so… silent. I thought it was just my own imagination... but I feel it in the house. Even with Minseo, there’s this distance. And Hanbin - he’s still holding onto the idea that things are okay between him and Hyunwoo. It’s breaking my heart because I have no idea how to tell him that his dad seemingly decided to cut all contact.”

“It feels like someone's trying to rip my heart out,” you continued, your voice a little shaky now. “He still believes that things will go back to normal. Every time he calls his dad and gets no answer, I see the hurt in his eyes. I don’t know how to fix that for him, Hongjoong. He’s just a little boy.”

Hongjoong shifted slightly, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knees. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to shield them from the things they shouldn’t have to know.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I don’t want them to feel like this. Minseo, she’s... she’s different now, too. Now that Hyunwoo left… I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

“Minseo’s at that age, too, you know. The teens are hard. But I can tell you, she’s just needs a little time. It’s hard for them to see the people they love… change into something they don’t recognize.”

You let out a soft sigh and nodded, but the ache for your kids didn’t let up. “She’s always been so strong, but it’s like she’s holding everything in. I wish I could break through... But she's shutting me out.”

Hongjoong shifted his weight, his body a little tense as though he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin. You glanced over at him, and for a moment, his eyes met yours, a soft understanding in them.

"I know what you're going through," he said quietly. "I know it all too well." He paused, and you could hear him take a deep breath. "Minji... she left me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned to him, eyes wide with shock. “W-what? Hongjoong, I-”

“She cheated,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, his hand gripping his knee even tighter. “She left me for another man... a rich one, apparently. Someone she’d been seeing behind my back.” His eyes were distant, haunted, as if the words themselves were still too raw, too surreal for him to fully grasp. “I didn’t see it coming. It... it hurt more than I thought it would.”

You couldn’t find the right words to say. You knew Minji had been distant in the months leading up to their split, but this? You never imagined it would be something like this. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, though you knew words couldn’t heal the wound he was feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Hongjoong. I had no idea…”

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “I didn’t either. She had been so cold, so... unreachable. But I never thought it would end like this. And... that's not even the worst part. Yena, she… she was the one who caught them.”

“She what? Oh, God, Yena… how did she...”

Hongjoong let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “She walked in on them. Just like that. She saw her mom with him, saw them together in our own home. I don't know how much she really understands, but I... I can't even imagine what that must’ve done to her. She was so angry, but also so sad, and I couldn't even find the words to comfort her. I don't know how to fix this for her, either. I don't know how to make any of this better.”

You felt a sickening tightness in your stomachas the horror of Yena’s situation began to sink in. A child should never have to witness something like that, let alone process the reality that their own mother had been unfaithful.

“Yena must be so hurt... she must feel so betrayed. What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was hold her, and... and try to assure her that it wasn’t her fault. But the thing is, it felt like she was losing more than just her mother. It felt like she was losing both of us. She’s so confused, and I don’t know what to do for her. I can't just tell her it’s all going to be okay. It's not okay. It’s not even close.”

You could hear the anguish in Hongjoong's voice, and the weight of his pain was so tangible, it felt like it had pressed down onto your chest as well. He had always been the person others turned to for support - strong, dependable, someone who had always been a rock for those around him. But now, it seemed like the rock was breaking.

“I'm so sorry, Hongjoong,” you murmured again, unsure what else you could offer. You couldn't even imagine how hard this was for him. The hurt in his voice mirrored the same kind of sorrow you felt for your own family, and you both sat there for a while, not needing to say anything more. You both understood loss. You both understood the feeling of your whole world crashing down.

“What do we do now, Joongie? For the kids?”

Hongjoong looked down at his hands, fingers fidgeting in his lap as he took a deep breath, processing your question. For a long moment, there was only the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant honking of cars.

“What do we do now?” he muttered to himself, clearly frustrated. “I honestly don’t know, but… the kids... they need us, and we can’t keep letting them feel like they’re alone in this.”

“Well, summer break is coming up,” you said slowly, trying to organize your thoughts. “Maybe... maybe we could do something together? Like, take their minds off everything for a while. There’s still a lot we can do, right? Something to help them feel... normal.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lifted to meet yours, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. We could take them on some trips. Give them a change of scenery, get away from all this... stuff. I mean, Yena’s been asking about going to the lake house again. Maybe we could take the kids somewhere like that.”

You smiled at the idea. Hanbin, too, had always loved that same lake house. It could be the escape they needed. Maybe even Minseo, despite her recent moodiness, would open up if she had the right distractions.

“Yeah, that could be good,” you agreed. “Maybe a trip to the lake. And we could do some other things too - like go to an amusement park or the zoo. Somewhere fun, where they can just be kids. It won’t fix everything, but it might give them a chance to breathe.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes glowing with a bit more energy than before. “Exactly! A little fun, a little time away from home. Get them excited for the summer, make some good memories.”

“We’ll plan a whole summer week of distractions, then,” you said, giving him a small smile. “We’ll give them something to look forward to.”

Hongjoong’s smile widened slightly, and he gave a short laugh. “Sounds like a plan then!”

“But... there might be a small problem, Joongie. Minseo and Yena... aren't exactly friends.”

And just like that, his smile faltered for a second, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. He let out a soft sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in thought.

“I… didn’t think about that,” he admitted quietly. “They're still not on speaking terms?”

You shook your head, a tired sigh escaping you. “No, they aren't. I don’t know if it’s their personalities or something else, but they don’t exactly mesh well. And with everything that’s been going on lately… I’m worried it might be worse.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, staring at the ground for a moment as he thought. “That’s... going to be tricky. I don’t want them to feel like they have to spend time together if they’re not comfortable, but at the same time, it’s hard to separate them if we’re all supposed to be spending time together.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “I don’t want to force them into anything, but it’s going to be hard to plan activities that make everyone happy if we don’t at least try to get them to work things out.” You paused, tapping your fingers lightly on the armrest of the chair. “Maybe we could start small? Give them a chance to build something on their own terms.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “Yeah... We could try easing them into it. Maybe not throw them into some big group thing right away. Let them have some time to get used to the idea of spending time together again, but without forcing it.” He looked at you, a hint of concern in his eyes. “It’s going to be awkward, though. I know Minseo’s been distant with Yena for a while now.”

“Yeah, Minseo’s been pulling away, and Yena - well, no offense - she's not exactly the type to try and fix things on her own. I don’t know if she even knows how to handle Minseo's recent temper,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But maybe... maybe this summer could be a chance to get them to at least try. They don’t have to be best friends overnight, but if we give them the space to reconnect, they might surprise us.”

Hongjoong exhaled deeply, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee. “You’re right. Maybe it’s just a matter of giving them time. We don’t have to rush anything, and if they’re not ready, we can adjust. But if they’re going to be in the same place a lot this summer, we might have to come up with some ground rules to keep things... civil.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Ground rules, huh? Like no biting each other’s heads off every time they disagree?”

Hongjoong’s lips formed a small grin. “Something like that. We’ll avoid any forced bonding, but also make sure they understand our time together might help them, too. No matter how awkward it gets, they have to remember they’re in this together for now.”

You tilted your head, a teasing glint sparking in your eyes. “Think we should draw up a contract? ‘No screaming matches, no storming off, and definitely no threatening to run away after every argument.’”

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “Knowing Minseo and Yena, they’d probably negotiate harsher terms for us.”

You laughed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “God, we're doomed.”

“Completely,” he agreed, grinning. “But at least we go down fighting.”

“Mom, when are we there?” Hanbin whined from the back seat, his small legs swinging restlessly as he kicked the seat in front of him.

“Soon, sweetheart,” you replied patiently, twisting in your seat to glance back at him. “We’ve only got about an hour left.”

Before you could settle back in, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Minseo, stop hogging the armrest!” Yena snapped, shoving Minseo’s elbow aside.

“Oh, please! You’ve been leaning on me this whole time,” Minseo shot back, eyes flashing.

You sighed, already feeling a headache forming. “Girls, enough. We’re going to be stuck in this car for at least another hour, please try to keep it together until then!”

Neither of them seemed particularly thrilled at the idea but begrudgingly muttered, “Fine.”

Settling back into your seat, you exhaled once again. Your gaze drifted toward Hongjoong, who had his hands steady on the wheel, his expression focused but relaxed, chuckling slightly. The sunlight filtering through the windshield caught the sharp line of his jaw, highlighting features you hadn’t allowed yourself to notice in a long time.

Huh... you thought absently, he really hasn’t changed much... except somehow he looks even better now.

Time had been remarkably kind to Hongjoong - if anything, age had sharpened his features in a way that made him look even more striking. The soft crinkles at the corners of his eyes only added depth to his good looks, and the streaks of silver in his dark hair gave him an air of effortless charm.

You caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, clearing your throat. Focus, you reminded yourself. We’re just co-parenting this trip… it's just Hongjoong, for fuck’s sake! You've known him for over 20 years now!

Shaking off the thought as quickly as it came, you turned back toward the kids. “Alright, how about we play a game? Something to keep us all from losing our minds before we get there.”

Hanbin perked up immediately, his eyes lighting up. “I wanna play I Spy!” he announced eagerly.

Minseo groaned dramatically. “That game’s so boring...”

Yena crossed her arms. “It’s better than sitting here in awkward silence.”

Before your daughter could snap back, Hongjoong’s voice chimed in, and he looked back at the children for a quick second. “How about this - whoever wins gets to pick the first activity when we get there. Sounds good?”

The girls exchanged wary glances but, to your relief, nodded reluctantly.

“Alright, Hanbin, you can go first,” you encouraged, hoping the game might ease the tension.

Hanbin beamed. “Okay! I spy with my little eye... something blue!”

Everyone glanced around the car, scanning the scenery flashing past. Minseo guessed, “The sky?”

“Nope!” Hanbin grinned mischievously.

“The sign we just passed?” Yena continued hesitantly.

“Nope!” Hanbin’s giggles grew louder.

You frowned playfully. “Is it... your shirt?”

Hanbin’s laughter erupted. “Yes! Took you long enough!”

The game continued, and after a while, the kids grew quieter. Hanbin eventually nodded off, his small head resting against Minseo’s shoulder, who tolerated it with only a mild eye-roll before gently adjusting so he’d be more comfortable. Yena was absorbed in her phone, earbuds in, lost in her own world.

Hongjoong’s fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, a fond smile tugging at your lips. Time really had shifted so much between you, yet sitting here felt oddly... right. Familiar, in a way you hadn’t realized you missed.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice low but warm. “You okay?”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah... it’s nice. Feels like old times, kinda.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah... it does.”

The car eventually pulled onto a winding gravel road bordered by towering trees on its side. The air outside was warm, and you could hear cicadas humming faintly in the distance. At the end of the path stood the cozy, weathered cabin - its wooden frame sturdy and welcoming, framed by flower-filled window boxes and a wide wraparound porch.

“We’re here!” Hongjoong announced as he stalled the engine.

Hanbin stirred awake instantly, blinking sleepily before gasping in delight. “We’re here? We’re here!”

Yena and Minseo both perked up, stretching as they climbed out of the car. You followed, inhaling deeply, savoring the fresh, earthy scent of pine and warm grass.

Hongjoong stepped around the car to join you, his expression light and content. “Still looks the same, huh?”

“Yeah...” You nodded, memories of summers spent here flashing through your mind. “Feels like home.”

Before either of you could say more, Hanbin sprinted toward the cabin, shouting excitedly, “I get to pick the first activity!” Yena and Minseo exchanged knowing looks before chasing after him, laughter spilling through the air.

You and Hongjoong shared a quiet, understanding smile.

“Ready for this?” he asked playfully, his eyes crinkling in that familiar, heart-stirring way.

You laughed softly, bumping his shoulder. “Let’s see if we can survive the kids.”

After a whirlwind of unpacking - bags hauled inside, beds claimed, and a brief argument between the girls over god knows what - the cabin finally settled into a somewhat peaceful rhythm. The kids’ things were scattered in every direction, but at least no one was actively yelling anymore.

Well, almost no one.

“I’m not sharing a room with her!” Yena declared, arms crossed as she stood in the small hallway, glaring daggers at Minseo.

“Good, I don’t want to share with you either,” Minseo shot back, equally stubborn.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a familiar headache creeping in again. Before you could step in, Hongjoong spoke up, taking care of the situation for you.

“Fine. Minseo, you take the small room upstairs. Yena, you get the pullout couch in the living room. Problem solved.”

Both girls opened their mouths to argue, but something in Hongjoong’s gaze made them reconsider. Grumbling, they grabbed their bags and stomped off in opposite directions.

You sighed, shooting Hongjoong a grateful look. “Crisis averted… for now.”

He smirked. “Not bad for our first hour here.”

Then reality hit you. “Wait... if Minseo’s in the small room and Yena’s in the living room... where are we sleeping?”

His brow furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. He let out a resigned chuckle. “There’s only one bed left... the master.”

Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t even considered that possibility when booking the cabin, assuming the girls would share like they used to when they were younger.

“Well...” You cleared your throat. “It’s a big bed. We’ll... manage.”

Hongjoong nodded, still smiling faintly. “We’ve survived worse.”

You tried not to read much into the warmth in his voice, quickly busying yourself by unpacking. Sharing a bed with your best friend felt... somewhat weird. But at least you were both adults. It would be fine.

Probably.

Once everything was sorted and the girls' tempers cooled down, Hanbin burst into the living room, practically vibrating with excitement and jumping up and down like a bouncy ball. “I know what I want to do first!” he announced, with sparkling eyes and a huge smile on his face.

Minseo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “This better not be something ridiculous.”

Hanbin ignored her, bouncing on his toes. “I want to go to the lake! We can swim and skip rocks!”

Yena groaned a little but didn’t protest, clearly itching to stretch her legs after the long drive. Minseo sighed but grabbed her swimsuit from her bag without further complaint.

You exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, who smirked knowingly. “Guess the lake it is,” he said, grabbing a couple of towels from the stack you’d unpacked.

Within minutes, everyone was ready, swimsuits on and sunscreen applied. The well-worn path to the lake stretched through a small wooded area surrounded by trees. The distant sound of water lapping against the shore grew louder as you approached.

When the trees parted, the lake spread out before you, sparkling like glass under the sinking sun. The familiar wooden dock jutted into the water, weathered but still sturdy, just as you remembered.

Hanbin wasted no time, sprinting toward the dock in a hurry. “Watch me, mom!” he yelled before cannonballing into the water with an impressive splash.

You laughed, shielding your face from the spray. “Careful!”

Minseo and Yena exchanged a glance before racing toward the water, both diving in gracefully. Their laughter echoed across the water as they surfaced, already bickering over whose dive was better.

You sat down on the dock’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. It was refreshing against your skin, easing the lingering tension from the long drive.

Hongjoong settled next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. He rested his arms on his knees, eyes on the kids as they played and splashed. His expression softened.

“It’s nice seeing them like this,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Yeah...” You nodded, watching Hanbin laugh as Minseo playfully dunked Yena under the water. “It feels... right. Like they’re making the same memories we did.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his eyes. Before he could say anything, Hanbin’s voice rang out.

“Uncle Hongjoong! Mom! Come swim with us!” He waved both arms excitedly, his face lit up with pure joy.

You hesitated, but Hongjoong was already standing, pulling off his shirt in one smooth motion. He glanced back at you, smirking. “You coming, or what?”

Your breath hitched for a split second, heat rushing to your face as you watched Hongjoong pull his shirt over his head. His toned torso gleamed under the afternoon sun, soft muscles flexing effortlessly as he stretched. Hongjoong wasn't that muscular, not even in his youth, but he was lean and strong and pretty.

You swallowed hard, feeling like a teenager all over again - heart pounding, pulse quickening - as if seeing a man's body for the first time.

Get it together. It’s just Hongjoong.

You quickly tore your gaze away. But then, as your children waited for you to join them in the lake, insecurity crept in like an unwelcome guest. Your eyes flickered downward, taking in your own reflection in the water’s rippling surface. Time hadn’t been as kind to you as it had been to Hongjoong. Years of motherhood, stress, and life had left soft curves where there once were muscles, stretch marks tracing the story of your children’s lives on your skin.

You tugged at the hem of your swimsuit self-consciously, smoothing it over your hips.The doubts remained though - you weren’t the same you once were, and standing next to someone like Hongjoong only highlighted every insecurity you tried so hard to ignore.

“Hey,” his voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, warm and gentle. You looked up, startled, only to find him standing at the edge of the dock, hand outstretched toward you, a familiar spark in his eyes. “You coming or what?”

His smile was so easy, so genuine - like he saw you, not the flaws you couldn’t stop focusing on. Like you hadn’t changed at all in his eyes.

Like you two were still 16, and Minji and Hyunwoo never broke you.

Before you could overthink it, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers closed around yours firmly, pulling you to your feet with effortless strength.

“Let’s go,” he urged, eyes crinkling in that familiar, heart-melting way.

Without giving yourself time to hesitate, you stepped forward - and together, hand in hand, you jumped into the cool, welcoming embrace of the lake.

“Oh my god, it's so cold!” you shrieked once you surfaced again.

Hongjoong surfaced right beside you, laughing as he wiped water from his face. “What did you expect? This lake has always been freezing.”

You splashed water at him playfully. “You could’ve warned me!”

He dodged the spray, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Before you could retaliate, Hanbin swam over, eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see my cannonball, Uncle Hongjoong? Wasn’t it awesome?”

“It was epic!” Hongjoong praised, ruffling the boy’s damp hair. “You’re practically a pro now.”

Hanbin beamed proudly, already plotting his next jump off the dock. Yena and Minseo swam closer, still competing against each other.

“Bet I can swim to the dock faster than you,” Minseo challenged Yena.

“Oh, you’re on,” Yena shot back, already propelling herself through the water.

You laughed, watching them go. “Some things never change.”

Hongjoong chuckled beside you, treading water effortlessly. “Good to see them like this... even if they argue half the time.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling the ache of nostalgia tug at your chest.

Before you could linger too long in your thoughts, a mischievous gleam lit up Hongjoong’s eyes. “Race you back to the dock?”

You raised a brow. “Really? You think you can still beat me?”

His smirk widened. “Still? I always beat you.”

“Dream on,” you challenged, already pushing off the water.

The two of you surged forward, the cold water slicing around you as you swam with everything you had. For a moment, you were young again - no responsibilities, no past heartaches - just two old friends racing through the water like nothing had ever changed.

Hongjoong reached the dock a split second before you, laughing breathlessly as he gripped the edge. “Still got it.”

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, splashing water at him. “Barely.”

He leaned against the dock, still laughing, his face inches from yours. His gaze softened, lingering on you in a way that felt... different - familiar but weighted with something deeper, something unsaid.

You remembered that gaze. It was the same way he looked at you many, many years ago.

“Hey...” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

Your breath caught, but before either of you could speak, Hanbin’s voice rang out.

“Mom! Uncle Hongjoong! Watch this!”

You snapped back to reality just in time to see Hanbin launching himself off the dock in another dramatic cannonball. Water sprayed everywhere, making you both laugh as the moment slipped away like the ripples spreading across the lake.

Hours passed, and as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, the chill of the evening air slowly began to set in. Yena and Minseo were still splashing and laughing, but even their boundless energy was bound to fade.

“Alright, girls!” you called. “Time to head back and get some dinner.”

Yena groaned dramatically. “Already?”

“It’s getting late,” Hongjoong reasoned, wading out of the water. “And I’m pretty sure Hanbin’s about to pass out.”

You turned to see your son curled up on the dock, wrapped in a damp towel, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. A fond smile tugged at your lips. “Poor thing played himself out.”

Hongjoong was already stepping onto the dock, water still dripping from his hair as he crouched beside Hanbin. “Guess I’m on carrying duty.”

“Joong, I can-”

He waved you off with a playful smirk. “I’ve got him.” With surprising ease, he scooped Hanbin into his arms, cradling the boy’s head against his shoulder. Hanbin stirred faintly but didn’t fully wake up, sighing contentedly in his sleep.

Your heart clenched at the sight - at how effortlessly Hongjoong fit into moments like this, how natural he looked carrying your son…

Minseo and Yena trailed behind as you led the way back toward the house, still chatting about god knows what.

By the time you reached the back porch, the sky was a deep shade of blur, stars beginning to pierce through the fading twilight. You unlocked the door and gestured toward the cozy living room.

“Lay him on the couch,” you suggested quietly.

Hongjoong nodded, carefully settling Hanbin onto the plush cushions, adjusting a blanket over him. He lingered a moment, brushing damp hair from Hanbin’s forehead with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“Thanks,” you whispered, unable to keep the emotion from your voice.

He met your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “Anytime.”

Before the silence could stretch too long, Minseo poked her head into the room. “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

You smiled faintly, clearing your throat. “How about spaghetti?”

Minseo’s face lit up. “Can we help?”

“Of course.” You motioned toward the kitchen. “Yena, you too. You’re on garlic bread duty.”

The girls rushed ahead, their giggles echoing through the house. Hongjoong lingered in the doorway, watching his daughter with that soft, distant expression he always got when he thought no one was looking.

“How about you take a shower first? No need to help, me and the girls got this,” you suggested.

Hongjoong groaned, stretching his body. “You sure?”

“Positive. You drove us here, I'll make dinner. It's the least I can do.”

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you before nodding slowly. “Alright, but call me if you need anything.”

You smiled warmly. “Go. We’ve got it.”

He disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen with the girls. Minseo was already setting a pot of water to boil while Yena hunted for the garlic bread ingredients.

“Mom, where’s the bread knife?” Minseo asked, rummaging through a drawer.

“Top left, under the cutting board.”

Yena held up a baguette triumphantly. “Found it!”

You chuckled, grabbing an apron from the hook. “Alright, let’s make this quick before you two pass out too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace as you watched the girls. It made you think… When was the last time Minseo and Hanbin were this relaxed, this happy when Hyunwoo was still around? Of course they loved their father, but when the two of you were still married, the atmosphere was always tense. Never this light nor carefree.

It's all thanks to Hongjoong and even Yena that your children could forget their worries and be happy. And even you could feel yourself smile and laugh without a single worry in the world right now.

Just as you were finishing the sauce, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Turning, you found Hongjoong leaning against the doorway, freshly showered, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a simple hoodie and sweatpants. He looked so relaxed, so… right.

“Smells amazing,” he said, his voice warm.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you replied, pretending your heart hadn’t just skipped a beat.

“Need me to set the table?” he offered.

“Already done,” Minseo piped up proudly.

He chuckled. “You girls are fast.”

“Sit,” you insisted, waving him toward the dining table. “Relax for once.”

Hongjoong held up his hands in surrender, moving to take a seat as the girls carried plates and bowls to the table.

Once everything was set, you all gathered around, Yena claiming the seat next to her father and eagerly telling him something, while Minseo took the seat right next to you. For a moment, it felt like you were part of something whole again - just a family sitting and eating together.

As the meal wound down, Hanbin stirred from the couch, his sleepy trying to blink the sleep away. “Mom...?”

You were by his side in an instant. “Hey, baby. You hungry?”

He nodded slowly, still half-asleep. Before you could lift him, Hongjoong was already there, scooping Hanbin up with practiced ease and settling him gently into a chair.

“Thanks, Uncle Joong,” Hanbin mumbled, leaning against him as you placed a small plate of spaghetti in front of him.

Hongjoong ruffled his hair with a fond smile. “Anytime, buddy.”

Hanbin had finished only a few bites of his spaghetti before sleep claimed him again. You and Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look. Without a word, he gently lifted Hanbin into his arms once more, cradling him like it was second nature. You followed him down the hall to Hanbin’s room, pushing the door open softly.

Hongjoong laid Hanbin down on the small bed, tucking the blanket up to his chin. His expression was so tender, so full of quiet affection that it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t quite explain. You stood at the foot of the bed, watching in silence as he smoothed Hanbin’s hair one last time before stepping back.

“Goodnight, buddy,” he whispered.

You mouthed a silent thank you as you both slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You and Hongjoong walked down the hall, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly as you walked side by side. Neither of you spoke, but the comfortable silence between you felt like its own kind of conversation.

As you reached your shared living space for the holidays, Hongjoong stretched with a quiet groan, running a hand through his still damp hair. “I think I’m officially done for the day,” he admitted, a tired but content smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly. “Go lay down already, I’ll check on the girls.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching your face as though he wanted to say something more, but ultimately he just nodded. “Goodnight... and thanks for today. For everything.”

“Anytime,” you replied warmly, echoing his earlier words.

He disappeared into your shared room, leaving you standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. With a soft sigh, you headed toward the girls’ rooms, pausing outside Minseo’s door. Peeking inside, you found her already curled up under her blankets, fast asleep. You adjusted her comforter gently before stepping back.

Just as you turned to leave, a faint, choked sound reached your ears - muffled sobs coming from Yena’s room. Your chest tightened, knowing instantly what it meant. You hesitated, fingers hovering over her door. You weren’t her mother... you didn’t want to overstep.

But you couldn’t just walk away either.

You knocked lightly, your voice soft but steady. “Yena? It’s... it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a long, agonizing silence. Just when you thought she wouldn’t answer, her voice, small and slightly hoarse, finally whispered, “...Okay.”

You pushed the door open slowly and found her curled up in a tight ball on her bed, her face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling with quiet sobs. The soft glow of the moon bathed her room in silver light, casting long shadows across the walls.

Carefully, you sat on the edge of her bed, not wanting to crowd her. “Hey... what’s going on?”

“I just… I just wish mom was here, you know? But… but at the same time, I wish I'd never have to see her again… but I-i,” she choked out.

Your heart shattered at the weight of her words.

“I don’t... I don’t get how she could just do that to dad,” Yena continued, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and grief. “She was supposed to love him... to love me… but she ruined everything.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you kept your voice steady. “It’s okay to feel both, Yena. Missing her doesn’t mean you’re forgiving what she did... and being angry doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving her.”

She sniffled, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “I hate that I still care… that part of me wants her back, even after everything she did.”

Carefully, you rested a gentle hand on her back. “That just means you have a big heart… and you love deeply. It’s not wrong to feel that way.”

Her lip trembled as she whispered, “It hurts so much.”

Without thinking, you opened your arms. She hesitated for only a second before collapsing into your embrace, her sobs breaking free as she clung to you.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, holding her tightly. “You’re allowed to feel everything... you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You held Yena close, letting her cry until the worst of her sobs subsided. You gently stroked her hair, whispering soothing words as her trembling lessened.

“I know it’s hard,” you murmured. “But you’re not alone, Yena. You’ll never be alone.”

A quiet shuffling sound drew your attention to the doorway. Minseo stood there, her dark hair tousled from sleep, eyes groggy but alert.

Yena tensed the moment she noticed her, eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing here?” Yena’s voice cracked.

“Minseo, sweetheart... maybe you should go back to bed,” you suggested softly, not wanting to escalate things.

But Minseo didn’t budge. Without a word, she walked over, climbed onto the bed, and sat on the opposite side, her small hand reaching out to rest atop Yena’s.

Yena flinched but didn’t pull away, confusion flashing across her tear-streaked face.

“I... I get it,” Minseo said quietly, her voice steady but strained. “I miss my dad too... but I also hate him... and I don’t know how to stop feeling both.”

Your breath hitched.

Then, turning to you, she continued: “I don’t understand why you hate him… why you left him, mom...” Minseo continued, her fingers curling against Yena’s. “He was always nice... to me, at least. He never yelled or hit you... so why did you leave? Why did he stop talking to me? Why... why did everything have to change?”

Her voice cracked, tears filling her wide, questioning eyes. “I feel like I’m the reason he’s gone... like if I’d been better, maybe he would’ve stayed.”

Yena stared at Minseo. Then, quickly, she shook her head.

“It’s not your fault,” Yena whispered. “Parents... they just... mess up sometimes.”

Minseo’s lips trembled. “But he left... he doesn’t even call anymore. And... and mom, you never tell me what happened... you just expect me to be okay with it.”

Your heart broke all over again. “Minseo... I’m so sorry.”

For the first time, Yena squeezed Minseo’s hand. “I thought it was my fault too... what my mom did. But... maybe... it’s not about us.”

Minseo nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “It still hurts.”

“I know,” Yena whispered. “It hurts for me too.”

Without another word, the two girls leaned into each other, and giggled as they hit their heads.

They didn't even notice that you were long gone and soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

The car doors slammed shut one after another as you, Hongjoong, Yena, Minseo, and Hanbin stepped out into the parking lot of the amusement park. It has been Hanbin’s dream for the longest time to go here, and so it wasn't a surprise to see him practically vibrating with excitement, unable to stand still. “Can we go on the rides now?” he begged, bouncing on his toes.

“Shoes first,” you reminded gently, watching as he hastily retied a crooked lace.

Meanwhile, Minseo and Yena stood off to the side, chatting and giggling quietly about something only they understood. They shared a glance and broke into another round of laughter.

Hongjoong, locking the car, paused mid-motion, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the two girls. “...Are they laughing together?”

You bit back a smile, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Minseo and Yena rarely went five minutes without bickering - this newfound harmony was bound to set off alarm bells in his overprotective brain.

“They’re allowed to get along, you know,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

He scoffed. “Since when?”

Before you could answer, Hanbin tugged at Hongjoong’s arm. “Please, can we go now?” His eyes sparkled with pure excitement.

“Alright, alright, let’s go before you explode,” Hongjoong relented, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As you all headed toward the amusement park entrance, Hanbin sprinted ahead, pointing at every ride he saw, his excitement even infecting you.

Yena and Minseo walked side by side, still wrapped up in their own quiet little world.

Hongjoong couldn’t stop glancing at them, looking utterly confused. “This is... still so weird to see,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “They don’t fight anymore? What happened?”

You hid a smile. “Guess we'll never know.”

It has been two days since that night, yet every time he saw them together actually getting along, Hongjoong still acted like he'd just seen a ghost. It was hilarious honestly.

He shot you a suspicious look but let it go, too distracted by Hanbin waving frantically near the ticket booth. “Come on! We’re wasting time!”

With tickets finally secured, you stepped into the park. Hanbin immediately took off like a rocket, forcing you and Hongjoong to jog after him.

“Let’s do that one!” Hanbin shouted, pointing to a massive roller coaster twisting through the sky.

“That’s a bit intense for a first ride,” you laughed. “Maybe we can try something a little... less likely to send me into cardiac arrest?”

Hanbin groaned dramatically but agreed. Yena and Minseo quietly whispered, eyeing the spinning teacup ride nearby.

“How about the teacups first?” you suggested.

To your surprise, both girls nodded eagerly. Even Hanbin agreed after a moment’s thought - probably because it meant getting on a ride as soon as possible.

As the ride operator let you in, Hanbin raced to grab a seat, demanding that Hongjoong spin their cup as fast as possible. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way Hongjoong rolled his eyes but complied, already bracing himself for Hanbin’s shouts of “Faster Uncle Hongjoong, faster!”

You settled into another teacup with Minseo and Yena, the three of you spinning gently while the girls giggled every time it went a little fast.

After the teacups, you stretched your arms with a contented sigh. Your body wasn't getting any younger and even this little activity settled deep into your bones. “How about the Ferris wheel next? We can get a better view of the park from up there and plan what to do after.”

Hanbin’s face scrunched in disappointment. “The Ferris wheel? That’s boring!”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong gently ruffled his hair. “It’s not boring. It’s a good way to see where all the best rides are.”

Hanbin crossed his arms but reluctantly followed as you headed toward the towering Ferris wheel.

As you approached the line, Hanbin perked up. “I wanna ride with Minseo and Yena!”

The girls exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows. “Sorry, Hanbin,” Minseo said with mock seriousness. “Only girls allowed.”

“Yeah,” Yena added playfully. “You’re too little anyway.”

“Am not!” Hanbin stomped his foot, his cheeks turning red.

You opened your mouth to intervene, but Hongjoong gently placed a hand on your arm, shaking his head subtly. “Hey, bud,” he called to Hanbin. “You can ride with us.”

But Hanbin, now thoroughly offended, huffed and stomped toward an empty cart on his own.

“Hanbin, wait-” you started, but the ride operator had already secured the gate behind him. He plopped down in the cart with crossed arms, glaring at nothing in particular.

Hongjoong sighed. “He’s fine. He just needs a minute.”

You nodded, though worry still tugged at your chest. As the Ferris wheel slowly lifted you into the sky, you watched Hanbin’s cart ahead of yours. His pouty face softened a little as he gazed out over the park, clearly enchanted by the view despite his earlier protest.

Hongjoong also watched the children for a little before collapsing back into his seat, a groan escaping him.

“You look tired,” you said gently, breaking the comfortable silence.

He blinked, surprised. “Tired? Nah... I’m fine.”

“Liar.” You smirked knowingly. “You’ve been running around after Hanbin all day.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Without thinking, you shifted closer, reaching toward his shoulder. “Here, let me-”

Before your fingers could make contact, Hongjoong straightened abruptly, his eyes widening. “Ah! No need- seriously!”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? You were literally wincing earlier.”

He waved a hand dismissively, though a faint flush crept up his neck. “I-I probably just... slept weird last night or something.”

“...Right.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how flustered he’d become. “I don't bite, Hongjoong.”

He scratched his head, avoiding your gaze. “I know. I just... you don’t have to.”

His shyness was almost endearing, and you found yourself smiling widely.

Then, even though you were already moving on in your mind, Hongjoong let out a small, guilty sigh, and you perked up at that sound. “Okay... I might’ve brought my laptop.”

You blinked at him. “...Seriously? Joong, we’re on vacation. You promised no work.”

“I’m not working,” he defended himself quickly. “It’s just... in case something urgent comes up.”

You shook your head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re hopeless.”

Before he could reply, the Ferris wheel gave a sudden, sharp jolt, making the entire cabin shake. You gasped as you lost your balance, tumbling forward and right into Hongjoong’s chest.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you securely against him. Your palms rested against the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer now, concerned.

“Y-Yeah.” You nodded, still pressed against him. “That... wasn’t supposed to happen, right?”

His eyes flicked upward toward the still Ferris wheel mechanism. “I don’t think so...”

Neither of you moved, still tangled together as the realization slowly set in: you were stuck.

You became acutely aware of how close your faces were, his dark eyes searching yours, warmth radiating from his body. His arm was still firm around your waist, steadying you in the swaying cart, and you couldn’t help but notice the small details about him now that the two of you were so close. The glasses perched on his nose framed his sharp, elegant features- his jawline was slightly more defined than you remembered, as if time had chiseled away the last hints of softness from his youth. His lips, faintly pursed as he looked at you with concern, were fuller than they had any right to be.

His hair, dark and slightly tousled, framed his face effortlessly, giving him an almost disheveled yet neat charm that felt... magnetic. The open collar of his shirt exposed the curve of his collarbones and the faint shadows of muscle below. You tried not to look, but your gaze betrayed you, lowering there for just a moment too long.

It hit you like a punch to the gut- why the hell were you suddenly noticing these things? You’d known him for over two decades, had seen him in every possible light, from the awkward teen years to the confident adult he’d become. He was your best friend, and yet, as he stared at you now, his brow furrowed in mild confusion, you felt... different.

Your heart stuttered unexpectedly, a warmth creeping up your neck. This was Hongjoong - the same Hongjoong who stayed up late with you for endless movie marathons, who held your hand through your hardest days, who once got his head stuck in a fence when you were kids because he thought it’d make you laugh.

And yet, the man sitting in front of you now felt like someone else entirely. Not unfamiliar, but... new. There was a subtle intensity in his gaze, a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, as though life had refined him into someone you couldn’t quite place. It made you feel unsteady, like the Ferris wheel wasn’t the only thing off balance.

“Y/N? You still with me?” his voice broke through your clouded mind, his head tilting slightly as he studied you.

“I-I’m fine,” you stammered, quickly sitting back in your seat.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he released a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smile that seemed to tug a little too insistently at your chest.

This was bad. Very bad. Because the thoughts you were having weren’t the kind of thoughts you should be having about your best friend.

You forced yourself to breathe, pushing away these strange, unfamiliar thoughts. Shaking your head slightly, you turned your head. Your eyes scanned the Ferris wheel, quickly landing on the girls. Minseo and Yena were chatting away in their shared cart, seemingly unbothered by the sudden stop. Minseo had her phone out, and Yena was pointing to something on the screen, both of them laughing softly. You smiled a little. At least they were okay.

But then your gaze drifted to Hanbin’s cart.

And your stomach clenched.

Your son, who had looked so happy just moments ago, now looked anything but. His small hands were gripping the safety bar tightly, his knuckles white as his eyes darted around in pure panic. He was sitting stiffly, his legs drawn up slightly as though he were trying to make himself smaller than he actually was. Even from a distance, you could see how much he was shaking.

“Hanbin,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Hongjoong followed your gaze, immediately becoming alarmed. “Crap,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hanbin!” you called, leaning as far as you could toward his cart without tipping over. “It’s okay, sweetheart! We’re right here!”

But Hanbin didn’t seem to hear you. His head was bowed now, his face buried in his hands. His little frame shook visibly, and your chest tightened at the sight.

Hongjoong leaned forward, trying to get his attention . “Hanbin, buddy, look at me! It’s okay! You’re safe!”

The boy’s head lifted slightly, and his tear-filled eyes locked onto Hongjoong. “I-I’m scared!” he cried, his voice breaking.

“It’s alright,” Hongjoong said. “I know it’s scary right now, but I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Can you do that?”

Hanbin hesitated. Then, he slowly nodded and closed his eyes. His small chest rose and fell unevenly, but it was a start.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying your best to stay composed.

“Hanbin,” you shouted. “Uncle Hongjoong and I are right here. You’re not alone. We’re going to get down soon, I promise.”

“You promise, mommy?” Hanbin sniffled, his big, teary eyes looking back and forth between the two of you.

Hongjoong nodded firmly. “Absolutely. But until then, we need you to be brave, okay? I mean, you’re the bravest kid I know, right?”

Hanbin’s lip quivered, but he nodded slightly, wiping at his tear-streaked face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Good job,” Hongjoong praised. “Just keep breathing like that, bud. We’re gonna be fine.”

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against Hongjoong’s arm. He didn’t pull away this time, his focus entirely on Hanbin. For a brief moment, you felt a wave of gratitude for him. Hongjoong had always been amazing with your son, but now, you realized just how close they really were. It would be impossible to imagine your children’s life without him in it.

As the Ferris wheel swayed slightly again, you tightened your grip on your seat. “We need to get him down,” you murmured, glancing at Hongjoong.

“We will,” he said. His jaw tightened as he scanned the park below, likely looking for the operator or a maintenance crew. “Look,” he pointed towards a few people gathering on the ground, “it seems like they're trying to solve it already.”

You followed Hongjoong's gaze, spotting a group of workers in bright uniforms gathered near the base. They appeared to be discussing something, a few of them pointing up at the ride and gesturing animatedly. Relief washed over you, but it was fleeting. Hanbin was still up here, still scared and alone, and every passing second felt like an eternity.

“Hanbin,” you called again, “the workers are going to fix this soon, okay? Just hold tight, sweetheart.”

He nodded, yet still looked uneasy. His hands hadn’t left the safety bar, his small fingers clutching it like it was his lifeline.

“I’ve got an idea,” Hongjoong said suddenly. “Hanbin, do you remember that song we were singing in the car on the way here?”

Hanbin blinked, his tear-streaked face turning toward Hongjoong. “The silly one?”

“Exactly!” Hongjoong grinned. “How about we sing it now? You lead, and I’ll follow.”

Hanbin hesitated, clearly unsure.

“Come on, bud,” Hongjoong urged gently. “It’ll help take your mind off things. And I need you to help me remember the words, okay?”

You watched as your son’s little shoulders relaxed just a little. Then, although still hesitant, he began to sing.

“There’s a bear in the woods, and he’s wearing a hat...”

Hongjoong joined in immediately. “He’s got big, big shoes and a cat on his back...”

With each line, Hanbin’s voice grew steadier, and a small smile even managed to steal itself on his lips By the second verse, he was giggling at Hongjoong’s deliberately off-key singing, and you felt some of the tension in your chest ease.

You joined in, too, harmonizing as best as you could. Minseo and Yena, hearing the commotion, peeked out of their cart and started laughing.

“Dad, this is a terrible song!” Yena called as she and Minseo exchanged glances.

“It's amazing, thank you very much!” Hongjoong retorted, feigning offense as he continued singing with Hanbin.

For a few precious moments, everything around you seemed to disappear. Hanbin’s laugh was infectious, and even you couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances.

“See?” Hongjoong said as the song ended, giving Hanbin a thumbs-up. “Told you you’re the bravest kid ever.”

Hanbin beamed, his earlier panic almost entirely gone. “I am, huh?”

“The bravest,” you agreed, your voice warm with pride.

Just then, the Ferris wheel gave another lurch. This time, instead of jolting to a stop, it began to move again - slowly, but steadily.

“It’s moving!” Minseo exclaimed, her voice filled with relief.

Hanbin’s eyes widened. “Are we getting down now?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” you said, your own relief evident in your voice. “We’re getting down.”

The descent felt excruciatingly slow, but eventually, the children's carts snd then yours reached the bottom. The ride operator opened the gate, and you practically leaped out, eager to feel the ground under your feet again.

“Hanbin!” you called, rushing to your son immediately. He jumped into your arms without hesitation, his small body clinging to you tightly.

“You did so good, baby,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

Hongjoong crouched beside you, ruffling Hanbin’s hair. “Told you you were brave.”

Hanbin looked up at him, his eyes still a little red. “Thanks, Uncle Joong.”

“Anytime, bud,” Hongjoong said with a soft smile.

Minseo and Yena joined you shortly after, both girls looking relieved to see Hanbin was fine again. Luckily, they were almost completely unbothered by the whole ordeal.

After a while, Hongjoong stood up again and let out a sigh. “Alright, no more Ferris wheels today. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said, still holding Hanbin close.

“Can we do the bumper cars instead?” Hanbin asked, his big eyes looking up at you.

You exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, both of you smiling.

“Bumper cars it is,” he said. The girls also agreed without hesitation. It seemed like none of you could say no to Hanbin right now.

“Pretty eventful day, huh?” Hongjoong said quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping kids in the backseat. He shifted slightly, leaning his head against the window as you drove through the quiet streets.

“That’s one way to put it,” you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I’m still trying to figure out how Hanbin managed to hit me in the back of the head during that water gun game.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “That kid’s got good aim when it counts. Though I’m pretty sure Minseo was going for me the whole time.”

“Probably,” you said with a grin. “She told me earlier you were her ‘biggest threat.’ You should be honored.”

“Honored? I’m terrified,” he teased, leaning his head back. “She’s ruthless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid so determined to win.”

“She gets it from me,” you admitted, glancing over at him briefly. “I may have had a bit of a competitive streak when I was her age, remember?”

“‘May have’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Remember when we sneaked out to the arcane the day we had that exam? You were so determined to beat me in every fucking game we stayed so much longer than we intended to!”

You laughed, shaking your head at that memory. “Guilty as charged, Mr. Kim.”

He just rolled his eyes, so you focused on the road again. Your thoughts drifted back to the rest of the day, and you smiled fondly.

After the Ferris wheel and the bumper cars, the kids had insisted on trying out the water guns game. Hanbin had been determined to win a prize, his small hands gripping the water gun tightly as he aimed at the moving targets. Despite his best efforts, it was Minseo who ended up winning, much to his dismay. She’d teased him mercilessly until Yena stepped in, offering to share the plush dolphin she’d won earlier, which made Hanbin so happy he didn't leave the poor girl alone the whole time.

Then there was the roller coaster, which had been Minseo and Yena’s idea. Hanbin had been hesitant at first, clutching your hand tightly as you all waited in line, but his nervousness quickly turned into excitement once the ride began. You could still hear the sound of his laughter as the cart climbed to the top of the track, followed by his delighted screams as it rushed down the steep drop. Minseo and Yena had their hands in the air the whole time, having the time of their lives, while you and Hongjoong tried your best not to get nauseous. By the time the ride was over, Hanbin was begging to go again.

And, of course, there was the faithful cotton candy fiasco. Hanbin had managed to get more of the sticky treat on his face than in his mouth, and Yena had accidentally dropped hers, resulting in a brief meltdown that was only solved when Hongjoong offered to share his. The sight of him holding a piece of pink fluff out to his daughter, being all dramatic he'd had to share, was one you’d never forget.

“Hey,” Hongjoong said suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re smiling. What’s on your mind?”

“Hm? Just… the whole day, I guess,” you admitted. “The kids were so happy today.”

“They were,” he agreed, a huge smile on his face. “And you? Were you happy?”

You glanced over at him, surprised by the question. “I… yeah, I think I was. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that way. Hyunwoo didn't cross my mind once today, which is… good. Surprising, but good.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I don’t think I thought about Minji once today, either.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel tighter for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. “That’s a first, huh?” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “A good one.”

Neither of you said anything else after that. You focused on the road ahead, the familiar curve of the driveway to your holiday house coming into view. As you pulled in, the headlights swept across the front porch, casting soft light onto the porch. You parked and turned off the engine, plunging the car into silence.

You sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead, your hands still resting on the steering wheel. The only sound was the faint snoring of the kids in the backseat.

And then, before you could think twice about it, the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Sometimes, I wish I married you instead of Hyunwoo.”

The moment the words left your mouth, your breath caught in your throat, and your hands immediately tightened their grip on the steering wheel. It felt as though the world around you had frozen, the silence inside the car growing impossibly heavy. You didn’t dare look at Hongjoong, but you could feel his gaze on you - intense, and just as shocked as you felt.

You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t even consciously thought about it until the words were out in the open, hanging between you like a live wire. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse so loud in your ears that it drowned out everything else.

What the hell had you just done?

Hongjoong finally broke the silence, staring at you with wide eyes. “You… you wish you married me?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t indifferent, either. It was soft, uncertain, like he was trying to wrap his head around what you’d just admitted. And that made it even worse, because now you had to confront the weight of what you’d said - what you’d always been too afraid to acknowledge.

“I…” You swallowed hard, shaking your head slightly as you stared down at your lap. “I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean to- it just-” You stopped yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to organize the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging inside you.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel about it. For twenty years, you’d been with Hyunwoo. And yes, those years had been difficult -especially toward the end - but they hadn’t all been bad. There was a time when you’d loved him deeply, when you’d believed he was the person you were supposed to spend your life with. The early years of your marriage had been filled with so much laughter, passion, and the kind of love that made you feel like you could take on anything together.

But as the years passed, things had gradually changed. The love you’d once shared had been replaced by resentment and silence, by arguments that left you feeling more alone than ever. And yet, even then, you’d held onto the memories of what you used to have, convincing yourself that if you just tried hard enough, you could get it all back.

And through it all, through 20 years of life and hardships, there was Hongjoong. Your best friend, your confidant, the one person who seemed to understand you even when you didn’t understand yourself. He was always there. But you never let yourself think of him as anything more than a friend - not really. Maybe in your early teenage years you were crushing on him, but after that, you buried these thoughts deep within you. Because to admit that would have meant facing the fact that something was missing in your marriage. And you weren’t ready to face that. Not then.

But now… now you were free. And so was he. And suddenly, the barriers you’d spent so long building between you were starting to crumble.

“I loved Hyunwoo,” you said finally, your voice trembling slightly. “I did. At least… at the start, I did. I loved him enough to marry him, to build a life with him. But somewhere along the way, it just… it stopped working. And I tried so hard to fix it, to make it better, but-” You paused, letting out a shaky breath. “But I think, deep down, I always knew there was something missing.”

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but you could feel him listening intently, just like he always did.

“And you…” You hesitated, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way you’d rarely seen. “You’ve always been there, Joong. Even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was too blind or too stubborn to see it. And I don’t know… I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if it means anything at all. But today, for the first time in years, I felt happy. Really, genuinely happy. And when I think about why…” You trailed off, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill. “It’s you.”

You felt like you’d just stripped yourself bare in front of him. You didn’t know what you were expecting - anger, confusion, maybe even rejection - but what you saw in his eyes was none of those things.

Instead, there was a genuine smile on his face.

And maybe… just maybe… hope in his eyes.

“You’re not the only one who felt that today,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the heavy emotions in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you, since… since forever, if I’m being honest. But I never wanted to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks now, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. “Joong…”

“Don’t cry,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a tear away with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to absorb his words. His warmth, his love, it all made you feel like you could breathe again.

But then, reality set in.

“I don’t… I don't think I’m ready,” you admitted, your voice trembling as the emotions began to spill out. “As much as I would like to… I just... Joong, I’ve never told you everything about how bad it really was… with Hyunwoo.”

His expression shifted, anger taking over his features, but he didn’t say anything, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I could handle it, you know? At first, it wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t so bad. But over the years, it just… it wore me down. The way he spoke to me, the way he made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like everything I did was wrong. And when he wasn’t yelling, it was worse. The silence, the distance, the way he looked at me like I was a burden he had to put up with. It broke me, Joong. He broke me...”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape. But it was useless. The tears were flowing freely now, and you couldn’t stop them.

Hongjoong’s hand moved to cover yours, gently pulling it away from your face so he could see you fully. “You don’t have to explain everything now,” he said softly, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “But I’m here. I’m here to listen, whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m still trying to figure it out, to pick up the pieces of who I used to be before him. And the kids… they need me to be strong for them, to focus on them. Especially now that Hyunwoo decided to completely ghost them. I don’t know if I can do this- if I can handle anything more. I’m scared, Joong. Scared of messing it all up again.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You didn’t mess anything up. He did. And you don’t have to figure it all out right now. There’s no rush, no pressure. I’ll wait, okay? As long as it takes. I’ll wait.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear, and the guilt that had been clawing at your chest finally broke free. “I don’t deserve this,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” he said firmly, his hands cupping your face now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You deserve so much more than what you’ve been given. And I’ll remind you of that every single day until you believe it.”

The dam inside you broke completely then, and you collapsed into his arms, sobbing against his chest. You cried for all the pain you’d endured, for the years you’d lost, for your children, for yourself.

Hongjoong held you through it all, his arms wrapped tightly around you without letting go of you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to let go, to be vulnerable, knowing that he would catch you if you fell.

The sound of a small, groggy voice broke through the fragile bubble you and Hongjoong had created.

"Mommy?"

You pulled back from Hongjoong’s embrace quickly, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands. Turning toward the voice, you saw Hanbin rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Why are you crying?” he mumbled, and even though he was extremely tired he still looked worried.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him. Forcing a smile onto your face, you reached back to gently brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered softly, your voice steady despite the lump still lodged in your throat. “Mommy just got a little emotional, that’s all. But everything’s fine.”

Hanbin blinked up at you, his small brow furrowing as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. His gaze flickered to Hongjoong for a moment, who offered him a reassuring smile and a gentle, “Your mom’s right, bud. Everything’s okay.”

That seemed to settle him, and he nodded sleepily, already leaning his head back against the car seat. “Okay…” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut once more.

You let out a shaky breath, relief washing over you as his breathing evened out again. He had worn himself out so much it only took him a few seconds to fall asleep again.

Hongjoong reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get them inside.”

You nodded, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car. The cool night air helped clear your mind a bit as you moved to open the back door. Hongjoong had already scooped Hanbin up into his arms, the boy barely stirring as he settled against him.

“I’ll grab Minseo,” you whispered, glancing over at your daughter, who was curled up in her seat with her head resting on Yena’s shoulder.

Hongjoong nodded and waited for you to unbuckle Minseo before he began carrying Hanbin toward the house. You gently shook Minseo awake, and her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy protest escaping her lips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” you said softly, helping her out of the car. “We’re home now. Let’s get you to bed.”

Minseo mumbled something incoherent but allowed you to guide her toward the house, her steps slow and heavy with exhaustion.

Once you got her inside and tucked into bed, you found Hongjoong already settling Yena under the covers on the pull out bed in the living room. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening as your eyes met.

“All good?” he asked quietly, his voice low to avoid waking the kids.

You nodded, leaning against the doorframe for a moment as you watched him adjust the blanket over his daughter. “Yeah. They’re out like lights.”

“Same here,” he said, stepping back from Yena’s bed and joining you in the hallway.

Quietly, you left, and then after changing and washing up, the two of you settled into your shared bed. It wasn’t the first time you’d shared this space, but tonight, it felt impossibly intimate.

Hongjoong turned slightly to face you, his head resting against the pillow as he studied you quietly. You mirrored his position, your bodies close enough that your knees brushed beneath the covers. His gaze was soft, tender in a way that made your heart ache.

Neither of you spoke at first, your eyes saying so much more than words ever could. Tentatively, your fingers reached out, brushing against his cheek before moving to trace the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he lifted his hand to do the same, his fingers trailing along the delicate lines of your face as though he were memorizing every detail.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. “I think you might need your eyes checked.”

“I don’t,” he replied firmly, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I mean it.”

His words, his touch, they were overwhelming in the best way. For the first time in years, you didn’t feel the need to deflect, to argue against the kindness being offered to you. Instead, you let yourself lean into it, into him.

You talked about nothing in particular that night, and through it all, the two of you stayed close, your fingers occasionally grazing as you spoke.

It felt like peeling back layers, like rediscovering each other in a way you hadn’t allowed yourselves to before. The sound of his voice, the warmth in his gaze - it all felt like home.

But even as sleep began to claim you both, neither of you moved away. Your hands remained loosely clasped between you, a silent promise that whatever tomorrow might bring, tonight, you were exactly where you needed to be.

The rest of the week went by quickly.

One of the other highlights was a trip to a nature trail nestled on the outskirts of town. The path wound through towering trees seemed to engulf you fully. The kids ran ahead, giggling as they pointed out interesting flowers, squirrels darting up trees, and the occasional butterfly flitting across the path. Yena and Minseo took turns being the “trail guides,” holding a small map they’d gotten from the trail’s entrance and excitedly directing the group to scenic spots.

And more often than not, the girls managed to get you all lost.

Hongjoong walked beside you, Hanbin perched on his shoulders after growing tired. “You’re taller than everyone now,” Hongjoong teased, and Hanbin let out a delighted squeal, spreading his arms like wings.

The hike led to a clearing where a stream ran through the woods, its water crystal clear. Yena and Minseo quickly shed their shoes to splash around, their laughter carrying through the forest. Hanbin joined them with a little help from Hongjoong, who rolled up his pants and stepped into the cool water with him. You sat on the bank, watching them and taking a few pictures of the scenery.

On your last day, the five of you visited a local berry farm for some hands-on fun. Buckets in hand, you and the kids wandered through rows of lush bushes heavy with ripe berries. Minseo and Yena turned it into a friendly competition, seeing who could pick the most, while Hanbin focused on eating the fruits as much as collecting them. Hongjoong stayed by his side, laughing at his enthusiasm and sneaking berries for himself when he thought no one was looking.

When everyone had their fill, you gathered under a shaded pavilion to rest. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, and all of you made yourselves comfortable on the picnic blankets you brought along, the kids started pointing out cloud shapes and sharing silly stories. Hongjoong stretched out beside you, his hand resting near yours, his thumb occasionally brushing your knuckles. It was a small, quiet moment, but it felt like the perfect end to a perfect day.

By the end of the week, everyone was pleasantly worn out, and when you packed up and left your holiday home, the children were already begging to come back next summer.

Now that you were back home, everyday life slowly returned. School had started again, and while Minseo was doing fine, Hanbin still needed your help here and there and so, everyday after work, you spent your time helping him with his homework and studies.

That, of course, also meant that you didn’t see Hongjoong much right now. Because that's the only reason, and not that you were internally freaking out about your confession and what it would mean for your future. You couldn’t explain it - not fully - but the vulnerability you’d allowed yourself that night now felt like too much, too raw. So, little by little, you began to withdraw, telling yourself it was for the best.

It started with excuses. When he knocked on your door, asking if you and the kids wanted to join him and Yena for a simple dinner or a walk to the park, you’d smile apologetically, citing exhaustion from work or chores that couldn’t wait. You kept conversations at the threshold brief, always steering them toward neutral topics and away from anything personal.

You avoided lingering in shared spaces. The mornings when you’d normally sip coffee together on the porch turned into rushed cups at the kitchen counter, your eyes trained on the clock. Even in the evenings, when the kids played together in the backyard, you made excuses to stay inside, watching them from the window instead.

But Hongjoong noticed. Of course he noticed. His subtle attempts to meet your eyes lingered longer, and the warmth in his smile dimmed slightly when you looked away too quickly. He didn’t push, didn’t confront you, and that made the distance feel even heavier.

Minseo, after making up with Yena on the trip and also blissfully unaware of the undercurrent between you and Hongjoong, continued spending time with Yena as much as possible.

It wasn’t that you wanted to pull away. If anything, every fiber of your being longed for the comfort of his presence, the steady assurance and love he offered without asking for anything in return. But that was what terrified you the most - that if you allowed yourself to lean on him too much, you might not find the strength to stand on your own again. And deep down, you feared that he might realize you weren’t as deserving as he insisted you were.

And so, for the first time since you had known Hongjoong, you let the walls between you grow taller. What you didn’t expect was just how much it would hurt.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the school bus arrived before your house. You adjusted Hanbin’s backpack, bending down to plant a kiss on his forehead before ushering him toward the bus. Minseo followed, waving to you briefly before stepping up onto the bus.

“Have a good day!” you called after them. Hanbin turned to wave one last time before disappearing inside.

Of course your gaze drifted - inevitably - toward the house next door. Yena was climbing onto the bus herself, her dark hair swishing as she waved to Hongjoong, who stood on his porch, hands in his pockets.

Your breath hitched slightly when your eyes met his. He didn’t smile, didn’t offer the soft warmth you were used to. Instead, there was something hard in his gaze, a frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His jaw was tight, and though his stance was relaxed, there was no mistaking the tension in his shoulders.

You froze, uncertain whether to look away or acknowledge him. But he made the decision for you, stepping off his porch and striding toward your house with a deliberate calm that made your stomach twist.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone clipped.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice barely audible. You took a half-step back, feeling cornered even though he stood a few feet away.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, cutting straight to the point. His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no softness in his expression now, just concern tinged with a mix of anger.

You swallowed hard, trying to muster an excuse, but the words caught in your throat. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said finally. You quickly glanced towards your front door. “I-I should really get to the dishes,” you stammered, taking a step back into your house. Your hand gripped the door, your knuckles white as you forced a tight smile. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Before he could respond, you shut the door firmly, the sound of it slamming echoing in the quiet of the morning. You didn’t wait, immediately turning toward the kitchen, heart racing as you tried to escape the weight of his gaze.

But before you could take more than a few steps, the door burst open behind you, and you froze in your steps.

“Seriously?” Hongjoong’s voice was sharp as the door clicked shut behind him again. His footsteps were heavy and fast as he strode into the house.

You spun around, your stomach twisting. “Hongjoong, I-”

“No.” He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as he crossed the space between you in a matter of moments. “You don’t get to slam the door in my face like that.”

“Hongjoong, please, I just-”

“No.” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the room like steel, his gaze unwavering as he stopped just a step away from you. “You don’t get to shut me out like that.”

“Hongjoong, please,” you said, voice trembling. “I just need space.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Space?” His voice softened, and his eyes pleaded with you. “I promised I would wait, but you're completely avoiding me, Y/N!”

You didn’t answer, eyes darting to the floor as heat rose to your cheeks. The weight of his frustration was overwhelming, but what unnerved you the most was the love that was still so evident in his eyes despite his anger.

“Y/N,” he said, voice quieter now but no less firm. “I’m not going to let you do this. Not to yourself. Not to me.”

You tried to step around him, muttering something incoherent about really needing to finish the dishes. But before you could take another step, his hand shot out, fingers curling gently but firmly around your wrist.

“You want to do the dishes?” His voice dropped low, and your whole body shuddered. “Fine. Let’s do the dishes.”

Before you could protest, he guided you to the sink, standing close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. He released your wrist, his hands instead resting lightly on your waist, his fingers pressing into the softness there. You stiffened, but he didn’t move away.

"Go on," he said, his voice low. "Start washing."

Your hands trembled as you reached for a plate, the silence between you heavy. You couldn’t focus - the way he was standing behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his hands on your hips made you spiral.

His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned closer. His hands stayed firm on your waist, grounding you, but it was the brush of his lips against the side of your neck that made you freeze entirely.

“Hongjoong…” you whispered, your voice trembling. You weren’t even sure if it was a plea for him to stop or to continue.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice low and steady. “I’ve always been here. But please, just talk to me…”

The tenderness in his tone broke something inside you. His lips grazed your neck again, this time lingering longer, and an involuntary shudder ran through you. You clenched the dish you were holding.

When he kissed just below your ear, a soft, choked sound escaped your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let the plate fall back into the sink with a clatter, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

“Hey…” His voice was alarmed now, and his hands quickly moved to your shoulders, turning you around to face him. The tears spilling down your cheeks made his expression soften, his anger dissolving into concern. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You wiped at your face quickly, embarrassed, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m sorry,” you managed, shaking your head. “I just- I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let you in without ruining everything.”

He frowned, his hands cupping your face gently. “You’re not going to ruin anything. Why do you think that?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, more bitter than you intended. “Because we’ve been friends for over twenty years, Hongjoong. What if we mess this up? What if we can’t go back to being… us? I can’t lose you, too.”

His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his gaze unwavering. “Y/N, we’ve survived every other challenge life has thrown at us. We’ll survive this, too. I want to be with you, and that feeling will never stop.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did.

He studied your face for a long moment, his gaze softening. “There’s something else bothering you, right?” His voice was gentle, coaxing. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You felt the lump in your throat tighten, threatening to choke you.

“It's… it's actually so dumb,” you laughed bitterly, but Hongjoong immediately shook his head.

“Is this about Hyunwoo? What did he tell you?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Whatever it is he put on you. Whatever he made you believe about yourself.” His hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly. “I’m telling you, Y/N, he was wrong.”

“Hongjoong,” you whispered, gripping the edge of the counter, “you don’t understand-”

“No, I think I do.” His voice was rough, but his touch gentle as he leaned closer. “Don’t think about him. Don’t let him take up another second of your thoughts. He doesn’t know how to appreciate a real woman.”

You froze at his words, tears prickling at your eyes. Of course he immediately knew what you were thinking about. “I’m not... I’m not who I was 20 years ago, Hongjoong. I’m not-”

“Of course you’re not,” he interrupted, his hands squeezing your full hips. “You’re not supposed to be. You’re a woman. A damn beautiful one, for fuck’s sake.”

His words broke something inside you, a sob escaping before you could hold it back. He didn’t hesitate, pulling you against him as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he could shield you from every doubt, every insecurity that had ever plagued you.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he murmured against your temple. “You’re enough, just as you are. And I swear to you, I’ll spend as long as it takes proving that to you.”

“I'm sorry for being so childish,” you mumbled into his chest, which made him chuckle a little.

“It's fine. Just don't do it again, okay? Also,” he took a step back, and you immediately missed his arms around you, “we don't have to make anything official yet. It's just you and me. No labels matter, because they won't even come close to describe the love I have for you anyways.”

“I want to take care of you,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you. We have a few hours until the children are back. Do you… I mean… if you want, of course-”

God, the way he was struggling for words made you break out into laughter, which in turn made his entire face turn a deep shade of red. You took his hand, squeezing it carefully.

“I… I feel better now that I told you. So, if you want…”

-Of course I want!”

You giggled. “Then… bedroom?”

He didn't even nod, just pulled you out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into your bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind him, he wrapped his arms around you again, this time more possessively, as if he wanted to make sure no one else would be able to see you or touch you.

His hands cupped your face, and then his lips were on yours. It was a kiss that held more promises than a thousand words.

It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe and loved, and it was the kind of kiss that made the doubts you had previously had about him dissipate instantly.

Hongjoong kissed you as if his life depended on it, and the way his tongue moved against yours made a shiver run down your spine.

“Do you have any toys?” He suddenly asked.

“H-huh?” You blushed, remembering the hidden box of unused toys you indeed had but never used, because Hyunwoo never wanted to. And after your divorce, you kind of forgot about it anyway.

“I- well, I do. But-”

He didn't let you finish. Instead, he grabbed your hand and led you to the bed, where he made you sit.

“You can just tell me, and I'll bring them here. I'll show you how much fun it can be.”

Your stomach twisted nervously, and you looked down, your cheeks burning.

“Y/N,” he carefully said, kneeling down before you. “I want to worship you. I want to use the toys on you if you'd like that. So, tell me, do you want me to use them on you?”

You swallowed hard, still unable to look up.

“Y/N, hey,” he said softly, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We can wait, we don't have to-”

“N-no,” you quickly said, looking up and into his eyes. “It's not that I don't want to. I'm just a bit scared, and also-”

“Scared?” His brow furrowed. “Why would you be scared, darling?”

“Because I've never used them. I-I don't know how they work. Or-”

He gave a little smile. “I'll show you. I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun."”

“I-okay…”

“You're sure?”

"Y-yeah."

Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then got up and left the room. You watched him, biting your lower lip nervously.

When he came back, he had your big, white box in his hands, and his grin widened as he opened it.

“I see, my girl likes plugs, hm?”

You blushed, looking away again. “I've never tried them.”

“But you would like to try it, right?”

You nodded slowly, and the next thing you knew, Hongjoong was straddling your lap.

“Do you want to try them right now, babygirl?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the pet name made heat pool in your stomach.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” he breathed, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your neck. “Now, I'd love to see you try these. Which ones do you think you'll like the most, sweetheart?”

You didn't know what to say, so you pointed to a pink plug, and Hongjoong smiled.

“That looks like a good one. We'll use this, and this,” he reached for a vibrator. “I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun.”

With a quick movement, he took your shirt off, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you hadn't worn a bra today.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” Hongjoong murmured, his gaze hungrily roaming your body.

“'M not,” you murmured, “I gained too much weight…”

He silenced you with a kiss. “You're beautiful,” he said, his hand resting on your thigh. “And I can't wait to make you feel good.”

With that, he stood up again, and walked towards the bedside table. “Is your lube in here?”

You nodded shyly. “It is.” Hongjoong opened the drawer quickly and pulled out said bottle of lube.

“You can relax now,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you, darling.”

He helped you lie down, and then started working your pants open. Soon, you were only wearing your panties, and Hongjoong couldn't keep his eyes off your curves.

“Fuck, I love your body,” he breathed. “You're so fucking sexy, Y/N.”

You flushed, biting your lip. “Really?”

“Of course. I thought you were pretty when we were 16, but now... you're so much more than that.”

His hand brushed along your side, making you shudder. Hongjoong started to trail soft kisses down your body. Your belly, your hips, and finally, the waistband of your panties.

“Can I take these off?”

You nodded again, and he pulled your underwear down slowly.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “You're dripping already, aren't you, princess?”

“I-i’m so wet for you,” you whined, and his eyes lit up.

“So needy already, babygirl.”

He pushed your legs apart, his thumb brushing along your slit, and the sensation made you gasp.

“You're so sensitive,” he said, “I love it.”

He started rubbing slow circles on your clit, and you could feel the heat building up in your stomach already.

“Are you already close, babygirl?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“Well, don't hold back,” he murmured, leaning down.

And then, his tongue was on your clit, making you moan. You could feel his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, and his hand moved down to tease at your entrance.

“Fuck, Hongjoong, please,” you whined.

“So needy,” Hongjoong purred. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

“What's the magic word?” You blushed at his dirty words. Hearing him talk like that for the first time did some unspeakable things to you.

“P-please, Hongjoong, I want your fingers!”

You were rewarded with two of his fingers entering you, and you moaned at the stretch.

“O-oh, fuck,” you gasped.

“You're doing so well,” he murmured, starting to thrust his fingers into you.

His mouth went back to sucking on your clit, his tongue lapping at the sensitive nub. He kept fingerfucking you, his fingers hitting just the right spot, and soon, you felt the familiar feeling building up in your core. You haven't had an orgasm in so long, so it was overwhelming you in the best way possible.

“You can cum for me, princess,” Hongjoong encouraged, his tongue swirling around your clit. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm washed over you.

He didn't stop his movements, and you whined at the overstimulation.

“Come on, babygirl,” Hongjoong said. “Cum for me once more. You can do that for me, can't you?”

“I-i can't, please!” You cried out, and he started fingering you even harder, his tongue still teasing your clit.

“That's it, Y/N,” he breathed. “Cum for me, baby.”

The sensation was overwhelming, and soon, you felt another orgasm building up, and you moaned, throwing your head back as pleasure washed over you once more.

Hongjoong pulled his fingers out, making you whimper.

“Are you alright, princess?” He asked softly.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.

“How about we use the toys now, hm?”

He grabbed the pink plug, and poured some lube onto it.

“Can you stay on all fours for me, darling?”

You nodded, turning around and getting on all fours.

“Look at you, being such a good girl for me,” Hongjoong murmured, and the praise made a shiver run down your spine.

On one hand, it was weird hearing your best friend of 20 years say such filthy things to you, but on the other hand... it was kind of hot.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

You felt the cool plug teasing your entrance, and the tip slowly slid into you.

“How does that feel?”

“G-good,” you gasped.

“Tell me if it's too much, okay?”

“I will.”

“You're doing so well,” he breathed. “Do you want me to fuck you with it?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped.

“Good.”

Hongjoong started pushing the plug deeper into you, and the sensation made you moan. The toy was bigger than his fingers, and it stretched you open deliciously.

“Do you like that, princess?”

“So fucking good,” you moaned. “B-but... I wanna do something for you too, Joongie. Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice low and rough. "”What do you have in mind?”

You bit your lip. You were embarrassed, but you needed him. You wanted to pleasure him.

“I wanna suck you off.”

He all but whined at that, and a deep blush crept up his neck.

You crawled off the bed, and Hongjoong sat down on the edge, his hands immediately running through your hair.

“You don't have to, Y/N. This is supposed to be about you.”

“I know. But I want to.”

Hongjoong's breath hitched in his throat, and he nodded.

“O-okay.”

You got down on your knees before him, and you started working his jeans open. His bulge was straining against his underwear, and you couldn't help but feel flattered that you did that to him.

“You're so hard,” you mumbled, and Hongjoong let out a groan.

“I won't last long,” he warned.

“It's fine,” you giggled.

You pulled his boxers down, and his erection sprung free, and god, it was definitely bigger than you'd imagined. Because yes, you did think about your best friend's dick before.

“Are you really sure?”

“Oh, I definitely am.”

With that, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he panted. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, and Hongjoong's grip on your hair tightened.

“Goddamn it,” he breathed. “D-don't stop.”

You started bobbing your head, sucking harder as you did. You felt Hongjoong's grip on your hair tighten, and the sounds he was making only spurred you on.

“So good, Y/N, just like that,” he moaned, and his praises only encouraged you more. You sucked harder, taking him deeper into your mouth, and you heard him moaning louder.

“I-I'm gonna cum, baby,” he gasped. “Where do you want me to cum?”

You couldn't reply, so instead, you just kept bobbing your head. You sucked him harder and harder, and then, you felt him twitch inside your mouth.

“Y/N!”

He came with a moan, and you swallowed all of it, the salty taste lingering on your tongue.

Hongjoong's grip on your hair relaxed.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was amazing,” he gasped.

You gave him a smile, and stood up.

“Did I make you feel good?” You asked, and Hongjoong grinned.

“Fuck yes you did.” Hongjoong leaned toward the bed, grabbing the vibrator. “Let's have some more fun with this, yeah? After all,” he looked at the clock and smirked, “the kids won't be home for a few more hours.”

24th of december, 2024.

The smell of cookies and gingerbread filled the air, the Christmas lights twinkled, and the golden ornaments were shimmering in the warm glow.

Hanbin and Yena were sitting on the floor, playing with the new dolls Hanbin had gotten for Christmas. Minseo was lounging on the couch, listening to music, and Hongjoong was helping you in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself, watching how Yena was listening intensely to Hanbin explaining to her how she should play with the new toys. You didn't even mind that they were a little too loud, and the sound of their voices blended with the music coming from Minseo's phone, creating a comfortable and cozy atmosphere.

“They're so cute,” Hongjoong said, handing you a mug of cocoa, “almost like real siblings.”

“I know,” you smiled, taking a sip.

Hongjoong wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and kissed the top of your head.

It had been an intense few months. A lot of things had changed; of course, there was your relationship with Hongjoong, going from lifelong friends to partners.

You had told the kids pretty early on, and they had taken it surprisingly well. You had expected more confusion and maybe some questions, but in the end, all three of them had been delighted. Minseo's response had been a simple shrug, stating she already knew, which made you laugh. And Hanbin was already telling everyone who would listen that he now had two sisters.

But unfortunately, these had been the only good news for the kids. By now, their father had completely cut contact with the children after ghosting them the whole summer. You still remembered how Minseo and Hanbin broke down as you had to tell them, crying in your arms for hours and hours on end. His complete disappearance over the summer had left a hole in the kids' hearts that was hard to fill, and the court battle that followed only seemed to make everything worse. You could still hear their voices in your head - the way Hanbin had asked, tearfully, if he'd done something wrong to make his father leave, or how Minseo, after months of letting her anger out on you and refusing to open herself, had quietly broken down, asking what it was that made her father stop loving her. Those were the moments that hurt the most, when you couldn’t find the right words to reassure them.

It was clear Hyunwoo wanted nothing to do with his responsibilities, as if he was trying to sever all ties, not just with you, but with his children as well. His refusal to pay any child support only added salt to the wound, a constant reminder of how little he cared. The court proceedings felt like they stretched on endlessly, but it was the emotional toll on Minseo and Hanbin that made everything feel worse. You tried to keep it together for them, but there were days when you just didn’t know how to shield them from the hurt any longer.

And then there was Hongjoong’s side of things, which wasn’t any easier. Though Minji had remained in contact with Yena, it wasn’t without its complications. Yena had always looked up to her mother, but since the truth came out about her affair Yena’s world had been turned upside down. Every time Yena visited her mother, she couldn't stay long, because seeing her mother with that man she had hurt her father with hurt her a lot. And though Minji tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy, the tension between them never completely faded away.

Hongjoong's lips found their way to yours, and you sighed into the kiss.

“You're thinking about something negative again,” he murmured. “Its Christmas, Y/N. You and the kids should be happy today.”

You smiled, stealing another quick kiss from him. Just a few years earlier, you had never thought about kissing your best friend, but it had turned out to be one of the best things you'd ever experienced. He was so gentle, and his touch always sent shivers down your spine.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips, still savoring the warmth of his kiss. “It’s just hard not to think about everything, you know? Especially when I see the kids still hurting so much.”

Hongjoong nodded, his hands resting gently on your waist. “I get it,” he murmured, “but today is about us. The kids are happy, we’re happy. Let's just celebrate today.”

Then, Hanbin’s voice caught both your attention. “Mom! Uncle Hongjoong!” He called out, looking up from the dolls as his little face lit up.

You exchanged a smile with Hongjoong before both of you headed toward the kids. They were gathered around the tree, eagerly waiting for you both to join them. Hanbin was bouncing on his heels, his small hands clutching something behind his back, while both Yena and Minseo exchanged glances with each other.

“What’s going on, little man?” Hongjoong asked, kneeling down beside Hanbin. The little boy grinned wide, clearly too excited to wait any longer.

“Close your eyes!” Hanbin instructed, and Hongjoong and you exchanged amused looks before doing as told. Both of you waited in silence as Hanbin scurried to the side, the rustling of paper and soft giggles filling the air.

"Okay, open them!" Hanbin’s voice rang out, and you opened your eyes to see him holding a small, carefully wrapped box. Minseo stood beside him, and she had a shy, almost nervous smile on her face as well.

Hongjoong blinked in surprise as he took the box, lifting it gently and peeling back the wrapping. It was a small, hand-painted mug with a simple design - stars and a moon. The kind of mug that felt like it belonged to a cozy winter morning, a mug that would hold the warmth of tea or cocoa on chilly days.

“This is for you, Uncle Hongjoong,” Hanbin said proudly, looking up at him with bright eyes. Yena added, almost quietly, “Thank you for always taking care of Mom and us.”

It was clear that Hongjoong was caught a little off guard. He hadn’t expected anything, and the unexpected kindness from your kids left him momentarily speechless. It was clear that, while they hadn’t yet made a full leap into calling him “Dad,” they had built a bond so much deeper - something that felt like a real family, even if it wasn't your stereotypical one.

Hongjoong took the mug from Hanbin, and embraced both Minseo and Hanbin in a long hug. “Thank you, both of you,” he said. “This means a lot to me.” He looked at you for a moment, his expression tender, before continuing. “You guys are so special to me.”

Yena stood off to the side, quietly watching the exchange between Hongjoong and her new siblings. Her hands were clasped together, fingers wringing nervously as she looked down at the floor for a moment. But as Hongjoong and your kids still continued to talk quietly, she stepped forward, holding something small and neatly wrapped in her hands.

You noticed her then, the soft hesitation in her movements, the way she was trying to come put of her shell. With a gentle smile, you beckoned her closer. "What do you have there, Yena?" you asked.

Yena hesitated, her gaze flicking between you and the others before she stepped forward, placing the small gift in your hands. "I... I wanted to give this to you," she murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she was unsure of your reaction.

You smiled, genuinely touched by her effort, and carefully peeled away the wrapping. Inside was a small, handmade bracelet - delicate and simple, with a charm that resembled a heart and stars hanging from it. It was something you could tell Yena had put a lot of time into making, something personal that she was choosing to give to you.

"It's beautiful, Yena," you said, your heart swelling with affection as you gently took her hand in yours, running your fingers over the bracelet. "Thank you."

Yena's cheeks flushed a little at your words, but there was a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. She looked down at her feet for a moment before her voice broke through the silence once again, this time quieter than before. "I know I don't call you Mom," she started, her words carefully chosen. "And I don't know if I ever will. But I... I want you to know that I'm really happy you're here with us. And that you make Dad happy." She paused, then added, her voice just barely above a whisper, "I love you."

You reached out, pulling her into a hug. Tears prickled in the corner of your eyes, but you blinked them away, a huge smile stealing itself on your lips. Your heart was so full of love it hurt, because you had no idea what to do with so much happiness.

"I love you too, Yena," you whispered. "And I'm so grateful that we're all together. We may not have started out the way others would have, but this... this is our family now."

You felt her arms tentatively wrap around you, her body slightly stiff at first, but she didn’t pull away.

Yena stayed in your embrace for a moment longer, her body relaxing into yours as you stood into your living room. You pulled back, smiling at the way she held onto you.

You caught Hongjoong standing nearby, watching the two of you with a fond smile.

“I’m so happy right now,” you whispered, your heart full of emotion as you looked around at the children. “This feels perfect.”

Hongjoong took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It is," he agreed quietly.

"Come on, let's get a family photo!" Minseo called from the couch, her phone already in hand. Hongjoong, still holding the mug from Hanbin, stood beside you, his arms sliding around your waist. Hanbin jumped up, his little hands tugging at Yena’s sleeve as he excitedly pulled her to the center, his energy contagious. The kids huddled close, everyone laughing and joking as they found their places for the picture.

Minseo stepped forward, positioning herself just behind Hanbin, her phone held high to capture the moment. Hongjoong's arms were firmly around your waist as he stood beside you, his eyes never leaving you, and your heart fluttered at his eyes so full of love

Minseo grinned from behind her phone, adjusting the camera. “Okay, okay, everyone! Say cheese!”

Before anyone could respond, Hongjoong leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The photo snapped just at that moment, and the last thing you heard was Hanbin’s “Ugh, not again!” as you smiled at the man you thought you’d never end up with, feeling a sense of peace settle over you – like you’d finally found what you didn’t even know you were looking for in the arms of someone who had always been a part of your life, yet somehow, never felt right until now.

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strawbeerossi · 1 year ago

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Silencing Spencer Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer likes how you listen to him ramble about things that interest him. He also likes your method of telling him to shut up.

Content/Warnings: Reader is a little mean because she has a headache, Spencer ramblings, oral (f receiving), face sitting (duh), degradation, pet names (pretty boy)

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Eleven: Facesitting

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You liked listening to Spencer talk, something about his voice being calming to listen to. Listening to him ramble was like heaven, watching him get excited to tell you every bit of information that plagued his brain on one specific subject. Spencer was honestly grateful, liking the way you actually showed care to what he had to say and telling him your own thoughts. However there was another side of you that he liked.

“Spencer, honey, can you please just give me five minutes? I have a really bad headache.” you spoke as you were walking through your shared apartment, your boyfriend following behind you like a little puppy. “But you haven’t even heard the best part about this episode! I mean, you have no idea how crazy it is when he-” Spencer was cut off by the palm of your hand pressed against his mouth. “I love you so much but you need to just.. Fuck, go sit on the couch for a minute.” You snapped. You knew you’d feel awful about it later but right now you were just frustrated.

Spencer wasn’t negatively affected, instead a rush of blood rushing down to his cock. He was getting under your skin, just what he was intending on doing. All he needed now though was you to shut him up, to put him in his place. He’d been sexually frustrated all day and he wanted nothing more than to have your soaked cunt on his face, making a mess of his jaw while you used his tongue to get yourself off. The thought of your slick arousal on his tongue was enough to make him drool.

“But baby, don’t you wanna hear about my theories? I mean the show is so interesting and you know I’m passionate about this character.” He was rambling now, only blushing as you shot him a warning look, one that he was used to from the amount of times he attempted to test you. He knew the punishment would be severe but he didn’t care, he needed to taste your essence sooner rather than later. “Come on..”

Whenever Spencer wasn’t getting the hint though, you were frowning. Now if your head wasn’t pounding, you would’ve realized what he was doing. Right now though, he looked like a brat who couldn’t seem to follow your damn directions. “Go lay down. Now.” You murmured, the male perking up at getting just what he wanted before scrambling off to the bedroom. You were joining him a few minutes later, already pulling your pants down your legs along with your panties. “Don’t get any ideas, brats don’t deserve to be touched or cum. You are servicing me tonight. That’s it.” The harshness of your voice had a whimper rip from his throat, his head nodding slowly.

Contrary to most men, Spencer could spend hours lapping at your cunt. He enjoyed making you feel good, your fingers tangling in his hair while shoving his face deeper into your warmth. He could cum just from that alone. “I’m gonna sit on your face tonight. Got it, pretty boy?” Just from the look on his face, you could tell that he was eager to flick his tongue into your sweetness, having you rock your hips against his face solely to pleasure yourself. “Yes!” He was desperate, head lifting as his eyes were fixated on your bare lower half.

After getting your shirt off and throwing it on the ground along with the small pile of your other clothes. “You know, Spencer.. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted this.” You spoke in a low tone while facing him with a frown, body climbing onto the bed as you were crawling to get situated. With your knees on either side of Spencer’s face, you were glancing down at your boyfriend who had his usual doe eyes that were clouded over with arousal. “You need to listen better, you know. You shouldn’t upset me on purpose.”

Spencer didn’t have time to respond whenever he was face to face with your wet pussy, his hands coming up to hold your hips before gently tugging your lower half onto his mouth.

His tongue was darting out to flick over your throbbing clit, your fingers tangling into his messy curls while you let your head fall forward with a soft breath. “Fuck, put that mouth to good use.” You spoke, the sinful sounds of suckling filling the room whenever he got the chance to take your bud into his mouth. When he’d pulled off with a pop sound filling the room, he didn't waste time to drag his tongue through your slit, giving himself a taste of what he was so desperate for. “Pretty boy, don’t keep me waiting.” You spoke, which he didn’t need a warning before his tongue was breaching your leaking sex.

Pistoning his tongue into your sweet cunt, he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls constricting his tongue from the surprise of him getting right to work. He drank every ounce of arousal you gave him, eyes fluttering shut as his moans were muffling against your pussy. His hands were assisting you as you were rocking against the warm muscle working its magic, leaving you desperate for so much more. “Mmm, is this what you wanted? Me to ride that pretty face of yours? You could’ve asked, baby. You didn’t have to get under my skin and get yourself in trouble.” You tsked while glancing down at the fucked out face of your boyfriend underneath you.

His vigor was making that familiar warmth in your stomach grow, knowing that you were close. Spencer had known your body by now, so as he knew you were close, he was focusing on your clit once more, sucking harshly as he had you letting out curses and sharp gasps as you were desperately rocking your hips against your partner’s face. “I’m gonna cum.” You whispered while both hands were roughly gripping his messy hair.

With a soft cry, it wasn’t long until your creamy arousal was flowing into his mouth, Spencer was eagerly licking up the sweetness as he was letting his head tilt back against the pillow with a deep groan. “Good job, pretty boy.” Your cooing caused a sheepish smile to spread across his face as he blushed.

“Go take a shower.” You hum, crawling off of his face while Spencer was pushing himself to sit up. His eyes were glossed over, his mouth and chin soaked, and his hair was all over the place from her fingers gripping and pulling it. “You look so pretty.” You cooed while making his blush deepen, drunk off of your pussy as he was slowly pushing himself to stand. “Can I please touch myself?” His voice was whiny, filled with need as he stared at you.

“Nope. I told you, pretty boy, this is a punishment.”

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snovyda · 10 days ago

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Fanfic Plagiarism alert!

Attention, especially for the people in the following fandoms: Mission: Impossible (specifically Benthan) and Top Gun Maverick.

It brings me no joy to say that we have a big problem in these fandoms - a shameless serial plagiarist who copies other people's fanfics from other fandoms, changes character names and sometimes a few desciptions of the settings or adds a few sentences or paragraphs when they feel generous, and posts them as their own. It is literally Ctrl+C / Ctrl+V type of thing.

My friends and I have reported this person repeatedly on ao3, but we still have not received any response from the staff.

Seeing posts from fellow Benthan fans who are excited about the fact that we are getting close to having 1000 Benthan fics on ao3 makes me sad because of this, because I know quite a few of them are just not legit, and, since ao3 has not responded in months, I guess I have to do a good old public call-out.

This person is known on ao3 by the pen name rosexpetals. If they are reading this, I can only recommend them to delete the stolen works (not just the ones listed in this post, if more are stolen, they can be found later anyway) and take a long look at themselves and reflect on their actions. I wish for them to discover the actual joys of writing something of their own, of expressing their own feelings instead of hijacking other people's.

Below the cut are the links to the works and their sources that I and a couple of friends were able to find using just a simple quick Google search. Out of their 96 published fics, at least 29 are provably stolen (and those are just the ones we were able to find via simple searches), which gives off a strong feeling that none of their work is really original. Some of them were copied from the same source twice. 9 more fics are copies of each other, but in different fandoms (very likely just copied from the same sources). As you will see below, sometimes they didn't even bother to change the title of the original fic they were stealing from or its summary:

Fandom: Mission: Impossible (Benthan)

Fic: where's the trophy? (he just comes running over to me) Plagiarized from: where's the trophy? (he just comes running over to me) (by riceenthusiast)

Fic: and i'll hold onto you Plagiarized from: Tender Loving Care (by as_with_a_sunbeam)

Fic: bedroom eyes like a remedy Plagiarized from: Keep Me Afloat (by Atalia_Gold)

Fic: i'm sinking, our fingers entwined Plagiarized from: Kisses to Make it Better (by steviewashere)

Fic: the way you hold me (is actually what's holy) Plagiarized from: scars. (by letthesongtakeflight)

Fic: call it what you want to Plagiarized from: care & feeding (by glim)

Fic: my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Plagiarized from: Their Fingers Run With Blood (by FoundInTheStars)

Fic: cause saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts Plagiarized from: Shrill Wails That Steal The Air (by Metalbvcky)

Fic: wherever you stray, i follow Plagiarized from: the fate of a con (by shrewritesall)

Fic: fall into me and i'll catch you, darlin' Plagiarized from: Safety II (by zozofia)

Fic: i hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay Plagiarized from: ['til you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn] (by tacos_are_tasty)

Fic: all's well that ends well to end up with you Plagiarized from: would it be enough if i could never give you peace? (by playthetyrants)

Fic: this most assuredly counts Plagiarized from: Must've Done Something Right (by fides_rationem)

Fic: something to rely on Plagiarized from: Unguarded (by trufflemores)

Fic: your string of lights is still bright to me Plagiarized from: your string of lights is still bright to me (by blueberriesandcream)

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Fic: bigger than the whole sky Plagiarized from: Bigger Than The Whole Sky (by catrasredemption)

Fic: look at this godforsaken mess that you made me Plagiarized from: for you i would ruin myself (by mraudersmoon)

Fic: i love you, i adore you (i lay my life before you) Plagiarized from: All That I've Been Yearning For (by Sokkas_First_Fangirl)

Fic: starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night Plagiarized from: Of Speeches and Sofas (by as_with_a_sunbeam)

Fic: i don't wanna lose you (that's the kinda heartbreak time can never mend) Plagiarized from: would it be enough if i could never give you peace? (by playthetyrants) - yes, same fic copied again

Fic: you can see it with the lights out Plagiarized from: Tender Loving Care (by as_with_a_sunbeam) - yes, AGAIN

Fic: and i'll forget you (but i'll never forgive) Plagiarized from: Hold Me Closer (by sweet_symphony0)

Fic: you can hear it in the silence (you can feel it on the way home) Plagiarized from: I'd search you in all of my lives (by sunflwrs)

Fic: and my destination (makes it worth the while) Plagiarized from: Pushing Through The Darkness (Still Another Mile) (by Sokkas_First_Fangirl)

Fic: give up on you, my dear (i will never) Plagiarized from: I Lay My Life Before You (by Sokkas_First_Fangirl)

Fic: as if you were a mythical thing Plagiarized from: The Ghost in the Attic (by as_with_a_sunbeam)

Fic: you drew stars (around my scars) Plagiarized from: Value (by trufflemores)

Fic: in my life (i love you more) Plagiarized from: Whistle, I'll Be There (by lovetheblazer)

Fandom: The Beatles RPF

Fic: can't ignore the rest of the world; can you stay and make me feel better? Plagiarized from: love me, always (by darkdisrepair)

Self-copied fics posted by the same person in different fandoms (possibly copied from the same sources)

Benthan fandom: sit with you in the trenches Top Gun fandom: you're all i want, i'll never let you go

Benthan fandom: i vowed i would always be yours Top Gun fandom: standing at the crossroads, no desire to run

Benthan fandom: can we always be this close? Top Gun fandom: in all your pain (i will carry you, always)

Benthan fandom: i know you're scared (and your pain is imperfect) Glee fandom: i'll never let you go The Beatles fandom: my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

#benthan #top gun #top gun maverick #benji dunn #ethan hunt #fanfic plagiarism #fandom plagiarism #ao3

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beat-the-morning · 1 month ago

Text

🖤Common Stage || Hozier x Reader🖤

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ || smut

Tags: coming in pants, cum eating, cum swallowing, face-fucking, oral sex (both receiving), semi-public humiliation, hand jobs (in the dressing room), tour bus sex

No beta we die like the poor thing in the road

Summary: You tease Andrew too much before a show and he cums on stage, he makes you make it up to him.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Sorry for not posting for a month, it will happen again. Probably. I hope not. But you know me so :/ anyway enjoy :) also that suit in the picture is the one he wears in the fic :)

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

Following your boyfriend on his tour had been easier than you expected. Yes, it was overwhelming sometimes, and having to live on the road wasn’t exactly easy, but you wouldn’t change it for anything. You had travelled around the world for practically free while being able to be with Andrew while he did his shows, and your new job was long distance anyway, so all you needed was wifi and somewhere to plug your laptop to charge.

You loved this tour life, everything about it was fun and exciting, though if you had to choose, your favourite moments, or at least the one where you had the most fun, were when you were alone with Andrew, either in his bedroom in the tour bus, a restaurant, or, like right now, backstage before a concert, where you could tease him endlessly and maybe even have a bit of fun if you were fast enough.

Today though, you were playing with fire, sitting on the couch of his dressing room backstage after he’d changed into his concert outfit. You looked him up and down as he checked himself in the mirror, a smile on your face and a plan in your mind already getting started.

“I love this suit on you.” You said softly as you walked up to him, your arm reaching to hold onto his. He smiled, avoiding your grip and placing his hand on your lower back.

“Do you, baby?” He teased with a smirk.

“Yeah, it looks so good.” You looked up at him with puppy eyes and feigned innocence, wanting your next words to take him by surprise. “Can you fuck me with it on? Please?”

His eyes widened, a laugh escaping him as he processed what you’d just said. “Maybe,” He ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “But it’ll have to wait until after the concert.”

“Unfair.” You whined, your hands moved to his belt, playfully pulling at it without actually undoing it.

“Baby, don’t.” He scolded you, though you felt his hips buckle towards you, his smirk never going away.

“I’m not doing anything.” You protested.

“Liar, you’re trying to tempt me.” His eyes wandered your face and body, his smile widening when he felt your hand moving to palm his crotch, his cock already hardening. “You know I have to be on stage in less than thirty minutes, we can’t do this right now.” He said firmly, though he had no intention of stopping you, or himself, his hand already moving from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it roughly.

“So? We can be quick.”

“Not with how you’re behaving.”

“What do you mean?” You teased, rubbing your hand over his clothed cock, feeling it hardening more and more by the second. You moved your hand to his waistband, easily slipping it under his pants despite the belt, you wondered why he even wore it in the first place if he wasn’t going to fasten it correctly.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.” He warned you as he leaned down to kiss you, though you both knew it wasn’t a serious warning.

“I love fire.” You giggled, then moved your hand lower until it was wrapped around his cock as best you could, pumping it slowly.

Andrew let go of your ass and grabbed the table behind you for stability, he moaned under his breath, his eyes fluttering closed. You smiled, moving your other hand to the back of his head and pulling him down until his neck was up to your mouth, where you started peppering kisses. He moaned into your shoulder, his hips buckling ever so slightly as you jerked him off.

His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a notification that you both promptly ignored. It was a message from the stage manager, he had ten minutes before he had to go on stage. His left hand gripped the table while his right moved under your shirt, caressing your skin and lightly scratching it with his nails. You fastened your movements, his moans becoming more high-pitched. Your hand moved painfully slow, wanting to drag this out for as long as you could.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he ordered, his voice raspy, “use your pretty mouth on me.” You shook your head.

“Can’t,” you whispered against his neck. “Someone might come in, this is safer.”

“Don’t care.” He let out a strangled moan as he spoke. “Please.”

Hearing him beg was a rare sight, the way his voice cracked and his whole body shook with desire stirred up something in you, your lips continued to kiss all over his neck, careful not to leave any bites or marks so he wouldn’t have any while he was performing. His hips buckled lightly into your hand, he was close, you slowly moved your free hand to his pants with the intent of pulling them down so he wouldn’t ruin his suit, the universe had other plans though. Someone knocked on the door and started turning the handle, your hand flew out of Andrew’s underwear and he quickly fixed his trousers as his manager came in.

“Jesus christ, Andrew!” She screamed, marching over to him with haste, “you’re late! Everyone’s waiting for you, let’s go!”

Andrew followed after her, not before kissing your cheek and winking at you, a silent way to tell you this little game wasn’t over yet. You composed yourself and walked out of the dressing room a couple minutes after, taking Andrew’s clothes to the tour bus since he hadn’t had the time to take them there himself thanks to you. You ran to the side of the stage right after, you sat on top of a box as you heard him sing, he was halfway through a song, almost a third through the concert, but he was still as hard as when you last touched him, you smiled to yourself, the outline of his cock only obvious to you thanks to the patchwork suit he was wearing.

Andrew looked at you, his face lighting up with a mix of happiness and lust, he kept stealing glances at you throughout the show, all until he started playing Angel of Small Death, specifically closer to the guitar solo, you could see him getting very into it, he was making faces you knew too well, practically moaning into the microphone before he finally stepped away to do the solo, getting too much into it again, his eyes almost glazed over as they found yours, and then, he threw his head back, biting his lips, he’d just came, on stage, in front of thousands of people, he knew, you knew, you both prayed no one else did. He went back to the microphone to finish the song, his voice more whimpery and rougher than before, his legs were shaking ever so slightly, he had turned fidgety and his face was practically red. You had to close your legs together and bite the inside of your cheeks to stop a moan from escaping, and to make things worse, he was still hard.

The rest of the concert went by too slowly, almost torturously so, but it finally ended, Andrew bowed and took a picture with the band, quickly leaving the stage and walking towards you, ignoring everyone else. His eyes bore into you, they were burning, and you didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing for you. He grabbed your arm, dragging you along with him to somewhere else, a few people tried stopping him to talk, but he quickly dismissed them with whatever the shortest excuse was, though after the fourth person, no one else approached him.

He took you to the tour bus you shared with him, closing the door behind him and lowering all the blinds. A silence fell, the tension palpable in the air.

“Did you actually..?” You asked, trying to fight a giggle.

“You already know.” He replied bluntly, his eyes full of fire. “Don’t laugh, or else.”

“Sorry,” you bit your lip, putting on puppy eyes to see if that would reduce the punishment you already knew was coming.

“Don’t even try with the eyes, they’re not working,” he grabbed your waist roughly, his nails digging into your skin though your clothes. “Anything to say for yourself before I start telling you what’s gonna happen next?”

“Can I clean you up?” You asked, still trying not to laugh, “please, sir? I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Liar.” His grip on you tightened, his voice almost a growl. “I can tell you’re trying not to laugh, you little brat.”

You looked up at him, unable to say anything even though you wanted to, he leaned into your neck, nipping at it lightly.

“You’re going to clean me up, yes, but then I’m going to use that pretty mouth you have,” he whispered into your ear, “and I’ll see about maybe letting you get off after if I feel like it. Got that?”

“Yes, sir.” You bit your lip, practically shaking with excitement.

“Good girl, now go to the bedroom and get on your knees at the foot of the bed.” He ordered, lightly smacking your ass as you left.

He followed suit, taking off his patchwork jacket and unbuttoning his shirt on the way. You kneeled on the spot he told you, he undid his belt and took off his pants, he examined the inside of them as he sat on the bed in front of you, you laid your head on his thigh, your eyes focused on the outline of his still hard cock in his boxer briefs, a dark spot on them from when he came on stage. He groaned lightly, muttering under his breath. “Six-hundred euros just to get cum on them…” He threw them off to somewhere else in the room afterwards, you didn’t know or care where exactly.

“Look at you, so pretty with your head on my lap.” He caressed your hair lovingly, his voice now soft.

You leaned into his touch like a cat, your eyes looking up into his, silently asking for permission to start.

“Go on, take off my boxers and clean me up, be good for me, baby.” He smiled, lifting his hips just enough for you to completely take off his underwear. His cock sprung free, fully hard and covered in his cum. You moved your mouth closer, licking off the remains of his orgasm off his balls before moving to his shaft, Andrew moaned softly, his hand still on your hair, scratching at your head as he held onto it. His spent travelled down your throat as you licked him completely clean, your happy humming almost like a song to Andrew, you kissed his cock along your way, worshipping him in the process. A few moans escaped him as you used your hand to jerk him slightly, just to make sure you got him as clean as possible.

Once finished, you kissed his tip, making him hiss through his teeth, you knew exactly what he wanted the second he pulled your head closer to himself. Your mouth opened, your hands guiding his cock to your mouth, you bobbed your head slightly up and down, still not deepthroating him. You hummed as you took him in your mouth, he moaned without restraint.

“That’s it, good girl, my perfect little slut, you love this don’t you?” He panted softly, throwing his head back for a few moments as more moans escaped him. His grip on your hair tightened, his hand starting to guide your head to take him deeper into your mouth. You let him take control of your movements, holding your thumb in your fist to get rid of your gag reflex as he sped up. Drool ran down your chin as the sound of Andrew’s moans filled up the room.

He suddenly pulled your head away, standing up from the bed and pulling your head so it was at the same height as his hips.

“I want to fuck your mouth properly, are you okay with that, baby?” He asked, barely able to restrain himself.

“When have I not been?” You teased, smiling wide.

“That’s not an answer, do you want this yes or no?” He said sternly, his cock just inches from your face.

“Yes.” You answered, your mouth watering. He immediately pushed himself into your mouth, letting out a loud groan. He pushed you all the way, your nose pressed against the trimmed curls at the base of his cock.

“What’s the safeword for when you’re like this?” He asked, wanting to make sure you remembered how to stop if you needed it. You moved your hand up and tapped on his thigh, he smiled. “Very good.”

He started thrusting into your mouth, starting slow and careful but quickly losing control, he fucked your mouth with wild abandon, his balls slapping against your chin. His moans were loud and rough, he’d lost all care for if someone could hear him, he was completely lost in your warmth. “You feel so fuckin’ good baby, god i love your mouth so much, my perfect little cocksleeve, fuck!” His rhythm started to falter, his thrusts becoming erratic and twitchy. He was close, you both knew it, and after just a few more thrusts, he pushed all the way into your mouth and spilled himself down your throat, you swallowed everything you could.

Andrew pulled out of your mouth slowly and carefully, hissing when your teeth accidentally scraped his cock just the tiniest bit. He caressed your hair, almost petting you, you leaned into his hand, absolutely loving the simple affection. “Was I good?” You asked, your voice slightly hoarse.

“You were perfect,” he smiled, pulling you up to your feet, and kissing you lovingly. “Do you need anything, water, cuddles, an orgasm?”

You laughed softly at his last suggestion, “I would love that last one, actually.”

“Thought you would,” he smiled, kissing you again. His hands moved to your waistband, starting to pull down your pants. “How do you want it?”

“Eat me?” You asked, taking off your shirt.

“With pleasure.” He replied, taking off your bra as you stepped off your remaining clothes. Andrew smiled, throwing you into bed and climbing over you, only to start kissing down your neck and collarbone. “You’re lucky I can’t stay mad at you for long.” He added with a soft growl.

“Yeah?” You teased, moaning softly.

“Yes, I shouldn’t be doing this right now.” He left a hickey on your collarbone, kissing down to your breasts, sucking one of your nipples before speaking again. “I should be leaving you begging for me after that little number you pulled earlier.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you moaned, a cheeky smile on your face. “Ah!” You whined after he lightly bit your now hard nipple.

“Don’t try me, love.” He warned you, you nodded. He kissed all the way down to your mound, nuzzling his nose and lips into your bush before he fully settled between your legs, licking your pussy and moaning at the taste.

You moaned loudly as he licked you, his face completely buried in you. He moved slightly lower and pushed his tongue into you, fucking you with it as his nose pressed into your clit. You moved your hips slowly, trying to get some more friction, but Andrew stopped it quickly, his hands moving to hold down your hips. He shook his head for a second, making you cry out in pleasure.

“Andy! Fuck! Oh my god!” You practically whined, trying to move your hips once more only for his arms to push down with more force. Your hands moved to his hair, holding onto it like a lifeline, you pulled him closer, he chuckled. His beard scratched at your inner thighs as he doubled his efforts, moving his face more since he knew you loved it when his nose rubbed against your clit. Your legs started to shake, your breathing became erratic and whiny, your moans turned more and more high pitched until you finally came undone, your whole lower body twitching with pleasure and your mind foggy with bliss. Andrew didn’t stop until your moans turned into whines from overstimulation, when he did, his face was soaked with your essence.

He climbed back up your body, laying down next to you and pulling you close, you melted into his arms, he kissed you all over your face, the last one on your lips.

“You’re banned, indefinitely, from being in my dressing room with me before a show from now on, by the way.” He said into your hair.

“Why? Do you hate me?” You teased, unable to stop your giggle.

“No, you dramatic baby, I love you a lot.” He pinched your cheek, smiling lovingly. “But I’m not risking cumming on stage again just because you like to play with me.”

“I didn’t even do it on purpose, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “I love you, too, by the way.”

“I know,” he kissed your cheek. “And I know,” he added in a whisper, kissing your lips again.

#hozier fic #hozier x reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier smut #hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier rpf #mornfic

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strangersteddierthings · 3 months ago

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Gut Instinct: Prologue

Here is the start of my fic for the @steddiebang2024! A HUGE thank you to my art, @calxeria, and my beta-reader, @zombiecreatures!!

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One]

On July 7th, 1985, Robin wakes up in Steve Harrington’s bed and begins to believe in the unbelievable, in the impossible. She's got a whole list.

The waking-up-in-Steve-Harrington's-bed would be the most unbelievable thing to ever happen to her, if not for the whole Russians-under-Starcourt, giant-flesh-monster, girl-who-can-throw-stuff-around-with-her-mind thing. So, second most unbelievable thing, because she’s going to count all of the aforementioned as one thing.

No, that's a lie. It's the third unbelievable thing. The second was before the giant-flesh-monster and girl-who-can-throw-things-around-with-her-mind, but after the Russians-under-Starcourt. In a bathroom. With Steve confessing his crush, and Robin confessing hers, but not for Steve. He didn't get it at first but then. Then his quietly spoken 'oh' morphed into a more excited 'oh! Me too!' and it was Robin's turn to be confused until he clarified: girls and boys.

Steve Harrington came out to her as bisexual while under the influence of Russian truth serum, or something, and that has to take second place.

Back to the third thing. She can’t lie, when Steve had first asked if she’d stay the night, she was wary. Yeah, they’d gone through hell together, but beyond surviving the worst days of their lives together, they didn’t exactly have a lot in common, and she'd really hate walking home alone if things were too weird.

Turns out, friendships are built on more than shared interests. Steve is bitchy in a fun way, hilarious, and so easy to talk to. They banter back and forth like they've known each other for years rather than weeks, a surprisingly easy transition from the (not-actually-very-friendly-at-the-time) teasing Robin had been giving him all summer at Scoops. They'd talked all night, sat on Steve's bed because the living room had felt too open, and Robin doesn't fully remember falling asleep the first time, but she does remember waking up from a nightmare and Steve was already assuring her she was safe, that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He'd asked if it was okay for him to touch, and she'd launched herself across the bed and into the hug he offered. For a boy who had admitted to having a crush on her 72-hours ago, give or take, there was no romantic intent in the hug, and Robin fell asleep easily in his arms.

So, Robin wakes up in Steve Harrington’s bed but no longer in his arms because she's star-fished out on the center of the bed, half her limbs flung across his back because he'd rolled onto his stomach. She rolls off him and sits up to stretch and look at him. One arm is stuffed under the pillow, the other hanging off the bed with how close to the edge he is. His face isn't turned to her, but she can see a damp spot on the pillow. She's willing to bet good money that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington drools in his sleep.

Then, the fourth most unbelievable thing happened - not that she realized at the time that it was going to make the Unbelievable But True list – as, for the first time, she witnessed Steve predict the future. Or something like it.

He rolled over, still asleep, and said, 'Dustin'll be here soon.'

It's been just a few days since Starcourt and Dustin was, as far as she could tell, Steve's best friend. It made sense he would show up and check in. The slightly freaky part was that she had assumed Steve was awake, but he was not. When he did wake up, he had no recollection of having said anything, but Dustin did try to crash through door about twenty minutes later.

Which, sure, Robin could choose to believe was an educated guess of Steve's subconscious. But then, the coincidences didn't end.

Over the summer, she witnesses him not once, not twice, but a whopping eight times buy a winning scratch card. Never a large amount but always enough for whatever he was wanting or needing, spanning from money for beer to money for some bill or another. When she questioned if gambling was the proper solution to pay the bills, he'd laughed and said gambling has a chance of losing, and since he's never lost, he wasn't sure scratch cards were actually part of the lottery.

More times than she wants to keep track of, he's reached out and halted her walking just in time for something that would have hit her to zoom past her face. Doors, other people, a few baseballs when they walk past the park, an entire stack of video tapes they'd been seeing how tall they could get once they got hired at Family Video, and even one memorable time of him hauling her back out of the crosswalk and a cyclist rounding the corner quickly. Sure, it wasn't saving her from a car, but she can't imagine it would have been a fun time getting hit by a bike instead.

He's always next to the phone when it rings, no matter where they'd previously been in his house or Family Video. He'll just meander away mid-sentence (his or hers) and stop near the phone just as it rings. He always knows who is on the other side of the door, though the doorbell ringing or knocking sounds startle him when he isn’t expecting anyone. When he is expecting someone, he never startles.

Of course, nothing definitive or proof-worthy happens. All of these things could be coincidental. Just Steve happening to be the luckiest person alive. The only option left is to ask Steve himself.

A perfect opportunity presents itself when she rides along with Steve to the gas station so he can purchase beer. They skip by the two closet places, and instead end up at the gas station on the far side of town. She stays in the car and just watches as he sets the pack on the counter and chats with the cashier, some guy with a voluminous beard. There's a bit of back and forth between the two, then Steve pulls out his wallet and pays, gets back his change along with two scratch cards, and then Steve's back in the car, placing the beer in the trunk before sliding back into the drivers seat.

"Here," he offers out the scratch cards, which Robin takes because she likes to scratch them.

"So, why did we come all the way to this gas station?" Robin asks as she take her thumbnail to the first card and Steve backs out of the parking space.

"What?"

"There are so many gas stations closer to where you live. Why this one?"

"Just followin' my gut, Robs," Steve's voice is cheeky, and she knows if she were to look up from the card to him that his face would have a cheeky grin on it.

"That makes no sense."

"What, you don't listen when your gut tells you things? You know, like the saying. Follow your gut, or whatever."

"People usually say to follow your gut for like trying to figure out what to do when faced with big decisions. Not to buy beer," she finishes the first scratch card. A fifteen-dollar winner. When no response comes from Steve, she looks over to him. His face is pinched in the way it gets when he thinks he's said the wrong thing and is trying to figure out what it was. He doesn't take his eyes off the road even when she adds, "hey. What's with the face?"

"It's just- when you make decisions, does it make you nauseous?"

"Uh, it was pretty nauseating when I was deciding whether or not to tell you that I was jealous because Tammy was looking at you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, but I mean, like, not for big things."

She thinks on it. There have been little decisions, like what to wear, but they've all been tied up in bigger decisions or thoughts, like trying to catch the eye of a crush or auditioning for a solo in band. "Hmm, not really?"

Steve lets out a sigh. "That's what Tommy said when I tried to explain it to him. I just follow my gut. Like, I'm not always nauseous. Sometimes it's just like, a pull, or a good feeling? But that's kinda new."

The second scratch card is not nearly as important as this. She shuffles in her seat, struggling a bit against the seat belt, to sit more sideways and face Steve as best she can. "Explain from the beginning."

"Well, for as long as I can remember, I've just always had this feeling about things, and like, if the thought would have a bad outcome, I'd feel sick? Like, uhh, example... example..." Steve trails off before thumping his hand against the steering wheel in triumph, then snapping his fingers when he must recall something, "Oh! One time in middle school, my friends and I wanted to sneak into the school for- well, that doesn't matter but what does is this part. I thought about how getting caught meant my dad would be furious, and I was almost instantly nauseous. At that point I'd already learned the sudden queasiness meant I had to not do the thing I was thinking about. So, I stayed home. Learned the next day they had gotten caught breaking in. And a more recent event, you know that story Dustin told you about the junkyard and the demodogs?"

"How could I forget? Steve's so awesome, Steve's so brave, Steve's the greatest, isn't he, Robin?" She raises her voice rather than dropping it to mock Dustin. He was still in his Steve-and-Robin-should-date phase while regaling Robin with stories of Steve's heroics in the past.

They've come to a four way intersection, slowing to a stop. Steve looks all directions before going forward, then he speaks. "My only thought all night was, like, I have got to make sure these kids are alright. Nothing else matters, so long as these kids don't get hurt. And so, even though I knew leaving the bus to be bait was borderline suicidal, there was no sickness. No- not even a mildly upset stomach. And I just. I knew it would end up okay."

That eases something in Robin she hasn't even been aware needed eased. Steve has been quick to throw himself against dangers, so if what he's saying is true, he doesn't do it recklessly. "Hmm. And just now? Why that gas station?"

"I don't really... it's like, lately, I just know? I just knew if I tried the first two, they wouldn't accept the fake ID. I didn't know that the last guy wouldn't even bother to card me, just that the first two wouldn't sell to me. And it's... that's new."

"New?" Robin prompts.

"The just knowing. I've always been able to steer clear of bad decisions, or like, things that won't work out how I want them to. But the knowing that it's going to work out is new."

She looks down at the scratch cards in her hands. Both winners, she's sure, even though she hasn't scratched the second one. Certain enough to cover the cost of the beer and the cards, so the next second one has got to be at least five dollars, maybe ten, unless Steve is short on the electric bill again. "Do you think you're a psychic or just super lucky?"

"Psychic? What, like a fortune teller or something?"

"Mmm, I don't think you need a crystal ball or tarot cards, but sure."

The car comes to a complete stop and he kills the engine. Robin looks out the car to see they're back at his house. She hadn't even noticed the drive. "I can't tell the future, Robbie."

"Well, how do you know?"

He unbuckles, then shrugs. "I guess I don't. I can't, like, tell you if it'll rain tomorrow or anything like that, but if I get up in the morning and grab the umbrella on the way out the door, I know it's going to rain at some point. That feels more like luck to me."

She unbuckles and climbs out of the car, can hear Steve doing the same thing. "Well, maybe that's what seeing the future is? Just being lucky with what happens next."

He rolls his eyes and turns away, heading to unlock the door to let them in his house.

She watches him go for a moment, wishing, not for the first time, that he didn't have to live here alone. Robin's spent almost all summer here but with school starting again, her senior year, she'll have to spend weekdays at her own home. Her parents have always let her run wild during summer break, but they won't allow her to be gone as much once the school year starts.

Another unbelievable thing for her list. Everyone knew Steve's parents were gone a lot, but she never believed they'd just abandon him. That had been a late night confession, back on that first night she stayed. Kind of the reason she agreed to sleep over. He'd sounded so... neutral about the confession, when she'd asked if his parents would be bothered she was there.

"Not their house anymore, so who cares," Steve had said, emotionless.

"What?" She'd asked, surprised.

"Not their house anymore," Steve repeated before elaborating, "when I didn't get into college, they traded my trust fund for this house instead. Mom left me a voicemail letting me know." He pitched his voice higher after that, imitating his mom she guessed. "Steve, honey, your father thinks it best that we just give you the house. Since you aren't going to college, it'll be better. Won't have to worry about getting a good paying job for a mortgage, you see? Can just get started with the making-a-family part of life. We revoked the trust fund to buy a house in Paris with the money instead."

She learned later that it hadn't been worded exactly like that, and there was no mention of Paris, but it did boil down to them not believing Steve would make anything of himself, and they 'wanted him to be able to start on solid ground' which, apparently, meant home-ownership.

She hasn't told him yet, but she's planning how she'll decorate and paint her room after she graduates. She's going to take a gap year and live with Steve. Help him figure out what he wants to do in life, and then help him achieve it as best she can.

"Are you coming?" Steve shouts from the front door and Robin startles back to herself.

"Yeah. Just enjoying the outside world while I still have time."

"It's school, not prison!"

She just grins back at him as he shakes his head and goes inside without her, and it strikes her then and there. She loves Steve Harrington.

She's got a list of Unbelievable but True things she has to reorganize now.

5. Steve Harrington can predict (at least his own) future. 4. On July 7th, 1985, Robin woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed. 3. Steve Harrington came out to her as bisexual. 2. Russians-under-Starcourt, giant-flesh-monster, girl-who-can-throw-things-around-with-her-mind thing. 1. Robin Buckley loves Steve Harrington.

#gut instinct #my fic #steddie #steddiebang24

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Let Me Love You, Baby

Chapter 7 of That's What You Get Prev Chap // Next Chap

Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.

A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao. You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3

You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh.

“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!”

“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier.

“Your lips are swollen.”

“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him.

“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you.

“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout.

“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer.

“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone.

“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible.

“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air.

When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him.

“Definitely not too drunk.”

You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers.

“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough.

“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth.

It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him.

He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls.

“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air.

“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down.

Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck.

“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth.

In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core.

“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question.

“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?”

“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again.

“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure.

He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face.

“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child.

“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.” You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it.

He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed.

"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck.

"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off.

He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored.

"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again.

"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs.

He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest.

"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you.

"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you.

"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"

"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-"

"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words.

"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you.

"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again.

"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement.

A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you.

"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure.

He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again.

His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise.

"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up.

"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up."

Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick.

"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."

You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies.

Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up.

Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time.

"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time.

The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.

You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted.

Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed.

"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out.

Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again.

He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo.

"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give.

Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine.

The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again.

"I love you. It's always been you."

Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained.

–X–

It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face.

Not your finest moment.

Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options.

It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you."

It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation.

But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again.

When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message.

"Sorry. I won't do that again."

You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up.

Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps.

Step one: wallow in your own misery.

Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry.

Step three: beg for heavenly guidance.

After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope.

"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"

You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory.

Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself.

"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?"

--X--

🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira

@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #maturereiding

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joelmillers-whore · 1 year ago

Text

I'll Be Here In The Morning

summary: after a heated argument, you try to go to sleep alone, but joel knows you can’t and he doesn’t like not sleeping next to you. he comes back and the next thing you know, the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other.

Recommended Song(s): Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Word Count: 4.2K

Series or One-Shot

Warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, no outbreak, slight relationship insecurity, they have a fight but it’s not shown, SMUT, joel calling reader darlin’ because why not, joel reassuring them and being sweet, also age gap i guess, canon divergent, praise kink, unsafe sex (don't be like joel, use a condom)

A/N: hey ya’ll! this is my first TLOU fic and i am so excited to post it here (also my first time posting on here). i am an AO3 user through and through but i thought it was time to broaden my horizon so to speak. i was so overwhelmed with how many of you wanted to see this type of fic, so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think or request anything you want to see. i’ll try to get to it/ i’m trying to be more active. i’m not sure if my asks are open so let me know if that works lol. anyway, i hope ya’ll enjoy this!!

Slamming the bedroom door behind you, you crossed your arms over your chest. You were angry, furious even, mostly with yourself but also with your boyfriend. Anger was coursing through your veins, pumping white-hot rage through them that made your chest constrict when you thought back to the petty fight you’d had with Joel not ten minutes ago.

It was mindless, stupid bullshit but you’d gotten angry over it anyway. You weren’t even a hundred percent sure just how it started, but you did know that you had been a simmering pot, ready and waiting to explode. So you had needed to get out of there, away from him. You didn’t fight with Joel often, even though your clashing personalities would beg to differ. When you did get angry though, there was no holding either of you back.

You and Joel each had your own way of dealing with anger and most times, you chose to walk away, not wanting to accidentally say the wrong thing or to say something hurtful that you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. So, here you were. In the bedroom. Fighting back against your racing heart and rising body temperature.

You had come back home after a long day on your feet and something mundane had set you off, and Joel just happened to be in the line of fire. Before long, you and Joel had gotten into it and not in the fun and sexy way you found yourself always wanting from him, regardless of what kind of mood you were in.

You thought back to the argument and how dark and endless Joel’s eyes had looked, how they seared into you when you were fighting, keeping you locked in and firmly in place. A shiver ran up the length of your spine as you imagined how he had crossed his arms, clearly in frustration, but how even when you were angry, you hadn’t been able to look away from his broad chest or how the material of his shirt had been pulled so tautly over his bulging muscles, making you bite your lip.

That annoying little flutter in the pit of your stomach made you groan in exasperation because even when you were upset with him, you couldn’t deny the sexual chemistry you and Joel had.

You shook your head, trying to shake yourself from your lust-induced daydream. You were overtired from work and clearly still reeling from an argument that you hadn’t been expecting to come home to. You glanced over at the clock; it was later than you had realized it was. How long had you and Joel been fighting for?

The all too familiar feeling of regret settled into your bones. You hated fighting with Joel, with the one person you considered to be more of a family to you than your actual family. But what was done was done and there was no going back now.

Neither one of you held onto anger for long, both of you deciding a long time ago that if either one of you were still angry in the morning over what had transpired the night before, you would agree to sit down and hash it out. That rule had probably saved your relationship more than once, and anger between the two of you never lasted for more than two days at most.

Rolling back your shoulders, you held firm to the idea that holding onto what you had said and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you now, so you thought about something else instead. You thought about how your muscles ached and how a migraine was slowly forming. The only cure that could help you now was sleep.

You knew that come the morning you and Joel would be back to bickering lovingly with each other and laughing over breakfast, just like how it always turned out. He was bound to forgive you, you hoped. But what if this fight was the one that tipped him over the edge? What if when he left, he wouldn’t come back?

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach like a thousand-pound boulder. You bit back the sting of tears and honed your hearing, listening for anything in the darkness that enveloped you. Disappointment manifested quickly when you heard nothing, except for your harsh breathing. Fuck.

You had fucked up royally, laying into him like that. And he wasn’t even there so you could fix it, there was really nothing you could do at the moment. You debated for a minute about calling him but you decided against it. He needed time to cool off— you both did. And you wanted to give him that time.

With a heavy heart, you started getting ready for bed. Maybe if you went through the motions, pretended like everything was fine, and sped through the night, Joel would be there when you woke up, smirking like you were his whole world again. So you rid yourself of your clothes and changed into something more comfortable; one of Joel’s shirts that went down to your knees and some sleep shorts. You lifted the hem of the shirt to your nose and inhaled, getting lost in the scent of him that still lingered.

It was warm and clean with a faint hint of coffee. It was Joel to the core and you rubbed your thighs together when you thought about how that scent crowded you when you and him made love, or when you had first started seeing each other, you had stayed up during a rain storm and just talked for the whole night, staying awake on black coffee and powdered donuts.

Mindlessly, you climbed into bed and settled in, trying to fall asleep despite the gnawing feeling in your gut. You sighed heavily, flipping over the pillow and then fluffing it, repeating the motions until you made your head spin. You never could sleep alone. Even before you had met Joel, you hated it. And right now, you hated it even more, especially when you reached over to his side, feeling for him.

But there was nothing there except the coldness of the sheets. You grew annoyed at yourself for how needy you felt without him snuggling next to you, his body heat warming you up better than any blanket could. You wanted Joel here, not anywhere else. And he knew it, which was why he almost never left you to sleep alone if he could avoid it. Almost never. Until now.

You closed your eyes and tried to count sheep, thinking that it could help. You tried not to concentrate on how alone you felt or how you missed him so much it hurt. Counting sheep must have helped because before you knew it, you found yourself in a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning for the majority of the night. Your ears pricked up when you heard a noise, thinking you heard the bedroom door open. You stiffened, attempting to remain calm and closing your eyes tighter.

Whoever it was moved around in the dark, their shadow fidgeting with the dresser before they climbed into bed next to you. They nudged themselves closer to you and relief washed over you when you recognized their scent. It was Joel. He came back. Just like he always did.

He shuffled his body closer to you, his solid front melding to your back, as his face snuggled into the crook of your shoulder, just how you liked it. It confirmed that he was there and he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“You still mad?”, Joel mumbled, his Southern drawl coming out gruffer as he tried to keep his voice low. He nuzzled your shoulder deeper, planting a soft kiss there.

You shook your head, as best as you could in the position you were in. You were well past the anger stage. And right now, you just wanted him beside you, with you. Right here. You felt Joel’s growing hardness rest against your back and a dull throbbing started in your cunt, making you squirm.

“I thought you weren’t coming back”, you croaked, the shroud of darkness acting as a shield against how scared you were at the thought of Joel not coming back at all.

Joel held you tighter, his arms flexing as he wrapped them around you in the same way you were used to. His gesture of keeping you close was more of a comfort to you than any of his words could. You craned your neck slightly, trying to make out the expression that was on Joel’s face, but it was hard.

The bedroom was mostly dark except for a tiny sliver of moonlight that shined through the window, and even then, it was tough. You could make out the tiniest of details in the low light; like the imperceptible way that his eyebrows creased when he was focused on you, or how you could tell that he was still smiling because of the way his eyes crinkled, despite being unsure of your mood. God, you loved this man.

Joel was there for you and you let out a tentative and shaky breath, grateful that he came back to you. You let any remaining tension drain from your body, and shifted your hips, which earned you a sharp groan from Joel, his hand flying to hold your hips in place.

“I’ll always come back to you, darlin’”, his voice was gruff and came out strained. His hot breath fanned over your ear, “Always”.

“Promise?”, you asked, grinding back into him again. It was the last confirmation you needed and then you would drop it, let the argument fade away.

You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice, “Promise”.

The tightness that had been sitting on your chest was no more and you were feeling bold, and a little more than turned on. The idea that Joel would always come back to you made you wet, and you rubbed your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the pressure you felt between your legs.

As if sensing your arousal, Joel’s hand wrapped around your middle, pulling your ass flush with his erection, his hand splayed across your clothed stomach, holding you to him.

You felt his short stubble run along the side of your neck, and your jaw, the abrasive sensation making your pussy flutter with the idea of that stubble rubbing against you harshly, until you were swollen and red down there.

“Baby...”, Joel protested weakly, his half-hearted attempt at drawing out the tension between you two. But there was tension and it was a string that was being pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment.

You grabbed Joel’s hand that was on your stomach, guiding it lower and lower until you stopped at the waistband of your sleep shorts, your chest on fire from your choppy breathing.

“Please, Joel”, you whined, grinding your ass back into him and moving your hips in slow circles, spurring him on. “I want you to make me feel so good like you always do”.

You were back to guiding Joel’s hand past the waistband of your shorts, into your underwear where he could feel how wet you were for him. He groaned, the vibrations from it making your skin tingle. An almost non-existent fuck was whispered as Joel’s hand found your soaking cunt, his deft fingers sliding through your folds.

When you removed your hand from his, letting him take charge, he hesitated. But when his thumb found your clit and you moaned, throwing your head back, he continued, not stopping for even a second.

“This good?”, he asked, as he teased your hole with his thick digit, pulsing the finger in and out, just enough to taunt you with pleasure and then rip it away when it felt too good. It was frustrating but you figured you somewhat deserved it for the fight from earlier.

You hummed, “Mo-more”, and you bucked into his hand, gyrating against it as you searched for more friction.

Joel sucked the pulse on your neck hard and you groaned, your head rolling to the side in pure ecstasy as he licked the spot when he pulled away. Fulfilling your command, he continued to work you over, work you to the edge. Your moans mixed with the sound of his finger, which soon became two fingers, pumping into you, a squelching emanating from you with every pump.

He was stretching you out, trying to prep you for his cock. Even this far into the relationship you needed some prep, he was that big. But you wouldn’t want it any other way. You loved his size and his girth and how deep he could go.

“Can you come for me, darlin’?”, Joel asked, as a groan slipped past his lips.

You flinched when his fingers curled, bringing you back to the moment as a tingle started low in your belly, the pressure building and building until it was too much, it was all too much.

“Fuck—”, you cried, cutting yourself off as your orgasm slammed into you, making you see stars. It was searing and hot and violent.

Your hips stuttered as they rocked into Joel’s hand, finding comfort in the fact that he was still lazily pumping into you, helping you ride out the aftershock.

“That’s my good girl”, he praised, thumb whispering over your swollen clit. You whined from the added pressure, feeling another orgasm start to build.

You had just cum and yet Joel was ready and willing to give you another one. Even when his engorged cock was nestled into your back, twitching with the need for his own release. He wanted— no, needed to give you your pleasure before he could seek out his own. Joel teased your clit again, pinching it as you yelped.

He removed his hand from your underwear and brought it to his mouth. You still weren’t facing him but you could hear the obscene sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked his fingers clean of your juices, not letting a drop go to waste. Fuck, you were so turned on already it was positively insane.

Joel gripped your waist and turned your body toward him, positioning himself so that he was slotted in between your legs, his upper body resting on his forearms, so as to not crush you with his body weight. Both of your chests were heaving at this point as another shot of excitement and arousal shot through you.

You brought a hand to Joel’s cheek, thumbing over his scruff and savouring this tender moment between the two of you.

“I’m sorry”, you said, swallowing your nerves.

In the softness of the moonlight, Joel’s eyes glimmered when they looked down at you. It wasn’t quite lust or amusement in them, but something else, something closer to love and adoration.

He dipped his head down and kissed you. It was tempered and subdued but sweet as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. You granted it to him, letting him explore your mouth like it was the first time. A swallowed-up moan left you and Joel pulled back.

“Me too”.

It was simple and yet he meant it with his whole heart, you were certain of that. Picking up where you left off, Joel palmed your breast through your— his shirt, making you tremble beneath him. He pinched your nipple and it made you arch your back off the bed, both to escape and chase that feeling.

“Let’s get this shirt off, hmm?”, Joel mused, playing with the hem of it. You nodded and lifted your upper body off of the bed as he helped you out of it, tossing it somewhere behind him.

“Your turn”, you said, almost breathlessly, and Joel obliged. He sat up on his knees and stripped himself of his own shirt.

You couldn’t help but pause and appreciate him and his physique. He wasn’t insanely built like an athlete or someone who stuck to a strict diet all so that they could get a six-pack. Joel’s body was sculpted from years of manual labour and although some might not be turned on by a broad chest and a toned stomach, you certainly were, and you were enamoured by it.

Your hand seemed to have had a mind of its own because you were raking your fingernails along his chest and stomach, drawing a line all the way down to his waistband. You watched as his muscles tensed from your touch, his eyes snapping shut like he had to concentrate on restraining himself.

Your hand remained on his waistband, your index finger playing with the dark line of hair that led all the way past the pants and to the straining member, you knew awaited you.

“If you don’t quit staring at me like that, darlin’, this might be over before either of us want it to be”, he drawled, quiet and low.

Your eyes snapped to his, which were dark and endless pools filled with lust. He looked like he was ready to devour you and your thoughts came to life when he gripped your thighs forcefully and spread them apart, making quick work of peeling you out of your shorts and drenched panties.

Joel groaned above you, “Such a pretty pussy, and ‘s all for me, ain’t she?”. He bit the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you jump. But you didn’t go very far, his grip on the back of your thighs holding you close to him and keeping you in place.

You wiggled your hips, trying to get him to hurry up, “All for you”, you whine.

Joel chuckled, but didn’t tease you for much longer, answering your silent prayer as he dove into your cunt, lapping and sucking like he was a man starved. You writhed beneath him as he continued, not letting up as he brought you to the edge of another orgasm.

“How you feelin’, baby?”, Joel asked, as he came up for air. You nodded fervently, feeling like you could die if he didn’t continue what he was doing.

He chuckled as he went back in, the vibrations making your head swirl and your toes curl at the sensation of his tongue fucking into you. You were so close it hurt and Joel could tell.

He shushed you before bringing his thumb to your clit and massaging it in tandem with his tongue, making you mewl and bury your hands in his short hair, pulling at his scalp as you begin to grind yourself on his face, practically riding him as you chase your high.

“I’m gonna—”, and you do.

You cum hard and quick, this orgasm ripping into you like a hurricane. The blinding wave of pleasure had all of your inhibitions clouded, as a light buzz started coasting through your body, leaving you sated. Your mouth is agape, a mix of a whimper and a shrill moan escaping you.

You felt as though you had just run a marathon, your body was on fire and yet there was a calm as you came down. You revelled in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling drunk off of it. There was a slick layer of sweat that coated your whole body, but you didn’t seem to care. Your mind was quiet as you listened to your breathing, your heart hammering below the surface.

Running a hand through your hair, you felt the mattress dip when Joel shifted his body weight, his beard glistening with your slick. You reach down and grab his face with both hands, bringing him to your lips. You groan when you taste yourself on him, the tang fueling your growing desire to be filled deep with him.

Joel murmured something against your lips but you couldn’t hear, your heart beating too loudly. “What?”, you asked.

“I need to be inside of you”, he whispers again, and you moan as he ruts into your bare core.

“Then do it”, you said, looking at him through hooded eyes.

Joel bit his lip, shaking his head as he stripped out of his jeans and then his boxers. His dick was thick and angry, the tip a bright red as it leaked pre-cum. You followed a drop with your eyes as it trailed down the shaft and you licked your lips at the sight.

Joel chuckled, the noise shooting straight to your needy core. You sat up slightly, reaching out for his cock but he stopped you, “Not tonight, sweet thing”, he stated, “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last if you start suckin’ me off”.

You keened at his words, desperate for some sort of relief. You snaked your hand from the pillow all the way down your chest, rubbing your nipple as you moaned, Joel’s eyes never leaving you. His eyes on you felt right, like you were putting on a show just for him, and in a way, you were. He watched your hand slide lower down your stomach and finally disappear between your legs.

“Goddammit”, Joel hissed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “What’d I just say?”.

He ripped your hand away from your aching cunt, pining it above your head as punishment. You let out a choked sob, “Please...”.

Joel’s cock twitched against his stomach at your plea, and he released you. He gripped his length and tugged harshly, letting beads of pre-cum dribble all over his hand.

You watched him throw his head back as he panted above you, finding a rhythm. As you opened your mouth to whine and tell him that you needed him, he grabbed the back of your legs and folded you in half, thrusting his hard cock into your pussy.

The force of him slamming his cock inside of you without much warning was enough to make you cry out. You couldn’t focus on much more than the pleasure that he could provide. It was as if you could never be fully satisfied, not when it came to Joel. You would always want him as desperately as he wanted you, each and every time. His hips snapped into yours, almost to the point of pain as he set a demanding pace, burying himself deeper and deeper into you.

“So”. He grunted with a thrust. “Fucking”. Another snap of his hips. “Needy”. Thrust.

Joel was never one to deny you, and you knew that. You might have been needy but he was willing to give you whatever you needed. And most times, all you needed was him. Him and that fucking delicious cock. So, he made sure he delivered you another orgasm. You chased your release, the desire striking you like a bolt of lightning— fast, powerful, and all-consuming.

It started in your toes and rushed in. Joel’s thick cock pumped in and out of you hungrily. He was both providing you with another orgasm and trying to find his own release. Each thrust was more punishing than the last, each angle hitting the right spot, and guiding you both to your release.

“That’s it, baby”, he groaned, manhandling you until you were basically straddling him, his hands on your back, holding you steady.

“Can you gimme another one?”, Joel purred into your ear as he fucked up into you, his hips losing their rhythm and you knew he was close.

“I’ll try”, you said, snaking a hand in between your bodies, and rubbing your cunt in time with each pound of his hips.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good”.

He barely finished his sentence before you were shaking in his arms, finding your orgasm from his praise.

Drunk on only two orgasms, you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, too sensitive and too sated at the same time, “Mmm, love when you make me come”.

Joel laughed with adoration as he continued fucking you, chasing his own release. “And I love makin’ you come, darlin’”.

You felt your walls clamp around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. With a final few pumps, he groaned, letting his head fall against your shoulder. Joel tensed slightly and his body shook as he deposited ropes of cum deep into you.

Your head lolled to the side, feeling his body grow slack against yours. His was flush against you, trying to control his breathing as you did the same, your arms wrapped around him as you stroked his back.

A long moment of comfortable silence passed before he lifted his head up, scanning your face. You smiled tiredly at him as he kissed you, letting the bliss wash over you both.

Joel kissed your forehead and slipped out of you. You in turn whined at the loss of being full of him. Your limbs were heavy as you melted into the mattress, feeling Joel collapse next to you. His arm drifted around your waist, pulling you into his side.

He kissed your temple affectionately, “‘m sorry about our fight”.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I know”, you bit your lip, contemplating your next words, “I just worry that one day we’ll really get into it and you’ll never come back”.

Joel stiffened for a moment, before he turned to you, whispering into your hair, “You don’t need to worry ‘bout that ever, darlin’. Because I’ll always be here in the morning”.

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plutoswritingplanet · 1 year ago

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Taking What's Not Yours (Dracule Mihawk x Reader)

a/n: soooooo, there is this pirate warlooooord. basically, i've watched the live action show on Netflix and immediately had to commit a one shot.

Warnings: Pure Smut (i had to get it out of my system), Wall Donging, Use of Alcohol, Stealing, Plotting, Lollygagging, inappropriate use of that cunty cross necklace.

Summary: A misguided attempt at impressing your friend lands you in a very peculiar situation. (cross-posted on AO3)

The bar buzzed with the energy of drunken people. Your throat still burned with the after-taste of the cheapest rum the establishment had to offer, and for a second you've become deeply worried about losing your eyesight, as faint notes of straight methanol registers in your brain. Then, the pleasant buzz hits your nerves like a suffocating blanket, and in one moment you sense all your troubles drifting away. And there has been quite a lot of troubles on your mind lately.

Mainly, the Marines, their presence an annoying nuisance. By no means were you a pirate, no. You searched for freedom in different ways, such as stealing as much, and as often as you could. Money was the driving force of your life, but you'd be lying, if you said it was the only pleasure you seek. The thrill of the chase, of finding that perfect little trinket you can grab, and your victim would be non the wiser. The euphoria of creating distractions in one place, so you can strike like a viper in another. It made your blood boil with excitement incomparable to anything else.

On top of that, besides the occasional confrontation, the Marines simply couldn't identify you. All it took, was a bandana around the lower half of your face, and suddenly you were able to march into a bar, such as this, filled with Marines, and no one would notice. Your eyes fall onto a rather skinny one, the belt of his too big uniform is digging into his waist, betraying how little there actually is of him. He looks back at you, smiles, and joins a group of his friends at one of the tables. You reciprocate the smile with a glint in your eye. The poor bastard doesn't know it was you, who stole an antique photo of his grandma right from his breast pocket.

In your defense, the small frame was made of gold. And damned pretty at that. It fetched you a pretty price too, one you were currently drinking away, waiting for your friend to join you in your efforts of landing under the table by the end of the night.

You barely manage to go through one fourth of the bottle, when they arrive, smile on their face and hair wild from running through the streets. It all goes downhill from there, as stories and alcohol flow freely between the two of you. It's a welcomed distraction from the gray reality of life, a small ray of sunshine in this murky town. They tell you about the latest heist they've pulled, eyes sparkling in the dim light, as they recount a particularly risky part of their daring escape. You snort into your glass, shake your head.

- See, that's where we're different. - you counter, leaning back into your chair - For me, it's all about stealth. In and out, so they won't know when they've been robbed.

Your friend giggles to themselves. The drink in their glass splashes slightly, as they place it forcefully on the table.

- You really think you're that good, huh? - they challenge, and already, you can feel the tingling sensation of excitement at the tips of your fingers.

- I know so.

They furrow their brows, turning towards the crowd currently hounding the bartender. There's a mischievous smirk playing around on their lips, as they turn their attention back to you.

- So, if I were to choose any person here, and told you to steal from them unnoticed, you'd do it?

The absolute gall of this question. Of course, you would. Hell, you'd do it multiple times, until this whole bar was filled with people suddenly missing their belongings. Because nothing compared to the thrill of reaching into someone else's pocket unnoticed.

- You know what? - your eyes run across the gathered crowd, smirk playing around on your lips, as you've spotted your chosen victim. - See that guy in the black coat? The one with the big ass hat. I bet I can get that fancy necklace off of him, in like, three minutes tops.

As you speak, your friend follows your gaze through the Marines, and the pirates, and all the in-betweens. But when their eyes finally land on your target, they freeze in their spot, before rather rudely grabbing your shirt at the collar. Then, so fast, the world starts to spin in front of your eyes, they yank you under the table. Your stomach lurches with protest at the sudden movement. You give your friend a confused shake of your head.

- Do you have any idea, who you're talking about? - they whisper-yell, eyes wide and clearly terrified.

- What, about the hat guy?

Apparently you've said it too loud, because your friend nearly launches themselves at you.

- That's Dracule fucking Mihawk.

From the way they've said the man's name, you gather, it should be at least familiar to you. Unfortunately, you can't say you know much of the world outside of the town, so your confused expression deepens.

- He's like, the biggest deal - Your friend continues, their grip on your shirt loosening slightly - Like, children read stories about him and shit.

- I didn't - you shrug, before rising slightly up, so you can peek from above the table.

The hat man has turned his back to you, his stature rather impressing, as he towers over everyone in the establishment. Your eyes follow the dark lapels of his coat, thief senses greedily gliding over the handle of his sword secured to his back. It's reminiscent of a cross, with gigantic, shiny gems nearly tempting you to do something unwise. Your friend tugs you back down, and your chin scratches on the rough surface of the table.

- What is he, like, a missionary? - you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

- What?

- You know, the cross and all that...

- What kind of missionaries have you been seeing?

Fair point, you think, before risking another peek, against your friend's efforts to pull you down.

The man, Mihawk, takes a long swing from a flagon filled with something you can't really identify. You watch almost greedily, as his Adam's apple moves, when he swallows his drink. Then, your eyes drift to the necklace, nestled on his exposed chest. Gold, real gold, you can see it from here. Another cross, albeit, much simpler, than what he had on his back. A week of drinks, and fancy ones at that flash before your eyes.

- Don't even think about it - your friend warns, finally giving up, and letting go of your shirt.

Your eyes stay fixated on your prize. If you could just see where the clasp of the necklace is...

- Think about what...? - your voice betrays you, and you wet your lips with your tongue in concentration.

- He'll kill you - your friend warns - Like, actually kill you. This is not a man you should fuck with.

At that, you finally tear away, your eyes meeting your friends, a sea of mischief swirling in them.

- Who said anything about fucking? - you say with a wink, and before your friend can say anything else, you rise from your seat.

Taking the half-empty bottle of rum in one, smooth movement, you begin to make your way towards the bar, adding a stumble and a drunken giggle for good measure. The previous ungodly ammounts of liquor circulating your body definitely help with the impression, but you're pleasantly surprised, that your head stays relatively clear. Although, if your target is truly as powerful and dangerous, as your friend makes him out to be, then perhaps you really lost your mind for good. Best not to dwell on it though.

The man barely spares you a glance, as you collide with the bar right next to him, arm brushing against his in a deliberate movement. You make sure to press your chest against the countertop, before waving at the bartender a bit too enthusiastically. The leftover liquor in your bottle sloshes out, landing straight onto the man's chest and lap. At that, he finally moves, annoyance clear in his rigid posture. Traces of liquid fall all the way from his collarbones to the belt buckle of his trousers.

The truly magnificent performance of a drunken, apologetic girl you gave at that moment, would ensure you the entry to the most prestigious acting schools. Your eyes widen comically, as you follow the trajectory of your drink. He barely flinches, as his entire front becomes covered in alcohol, but he does react, as soon as you start apologizing, a lot, your voice quivering as if you're about to burst out crying.

Don't look up, you remind yourself, as your body moves closer to his. You pull down the sleeve of your shirt and reach towards him, trying to dry some of the liquor off his skin. For the split second you manage to make contact, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. He's incredibly warm, his skin pulled taut against prominent muscles. Then, your sleeve reaches the golden necklace.

His arm immediately shoots out, grabbing you by the wrist and nearly shoving you off. It was enough, though. That short moment of contact revealed more than you've bargained for.

- Leave - you truly flinch at the sound of his gravely voice, no acting needed - You've embarrassed yourself quite enough, woman.

Your head nods fervently, hair jumping around your face. He releases your wrist, and you mutter another string of "I'm so sorry, sir". Then, you throw in a sniffle, for good measure, but your treacherous eyes drift upwards, desperate to catch a glimpse of the man's face, as you're only inches from him. Yellow envelops you in an instant, a piercing, unrelenting gaze, which breaks through all your defenses. Your gaze hardens in an instant, challenge rising in your posture like its second nature. One of the man's prominent eyebrows shoot upwards ever so slightly, and you know it's your time to exit the stage.

So you bow your head again and slip past him as quickly, as you physically can. His golden gaze follows you, the feeling of his eyes at the back of your neck makes your shoulders tense. With a stumble, this one not rehearsed, you push past the gathered patrons, until you reach the doors to the restrooms, nearly falling through them, in your haste to remove yourself from this strange situation.

Your body collides with the row of basins, as you lean forward to try and catch your breath. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, the sound of blood rushing through your ears deafening. It's fear, you're aware. You've never been so close to being exposed, no one has ever seen straight through you, and so quickly at that. Chills run the length of your spine with such force you physically cringe.

And then, something else starts to brew in the pit of your stomach. Something that starts at the tips of your fingers, spreading upwards, until it settles in your chest. The magnetic pull of excitement, the danger of a new challenge. Your brain feels hot inside your skull, as you gather all the information you managed to pull out.

The necklace is heavy, but strangely, not as heavy, as solid gold would be. The clasp is sturdy, but small. You could feel it, with how the strap tightened, when you pulled at it. And one more thing. As you tried to "dry" it, the body of the necklace shifted slightly, so you could see the clasp peeking over the man's shoulder. You were almost entirely sure it was one of those old-timey ones. The one, where two halves fit together, incredibly easy to open.

God, you really are going to pull this off. You hype yourself up, in front of the mirror, jumping from leg to leg, like a sportsman ready to fight for their team. Easy. Quiet. In and out. You've done it a thousand times, why would this one be different? After this rather pathetic pep talk, you make up your mind. Splashing some water onto your face, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, determination filling your eyes to the brim.

And then, you're out, the door to the bathroom swings behind you, as you easily blend into the crowd of rowdy patrons. He's almost impossible to miss amongst the ruckus, with his straight posture and that damned hat. There is a plan forming in your head, as you stalk towards him. The unfortunate waiter, with a tray filled with tall beer glasses walks towards you, and with ease, you slide your leg to the side, making him trip right onto the floor.

It creates enough of a distraction for you to smoothly move behind your target, and as he looks over at the screaming crowd, you hand makes its way behind the collar of his coat. With the warmth of his skin just under your fingertips, you touch the clasp of the necklace. It unravels immediately, sliding off of his neck, where, just out of his vision, your other hand waits. The cross lands in your palm just as the man realizes what is happening.

His entire body jerks in your direction, large hands immediately flying towards the gigantic sword on his back. Thankfully, you're faster. Fingers squeeze around the smaller cross, and suddenly all pretense is gone, as you bolt back to the restrooms. You don't stop to check if the man is pursuing you, a flurry of emotions chasing you out of the establishment. Excitement, yes, of course, but mostly impossible to explain fear. In that moment you know, you can't get caught if you want your life to continue.

So, you barrel through the doors to the restroom and immediately jump onto one of the basins. Your hands make quick work opening the small window just below the ceiling, its lock coming undone under the prying of your lockpick. Night air floods the bathroom with the crisp smell of the harbour. Putting all your concentration into athletics, you jump through the small opening, squeezing through. Your shirt catches onto the lock and tears with the force of your body. You land on your face, right into the cobbled street below. Only then do you risk taking the time, and looking around, eyes scanning the dark, as your breath quickens.

Nothing. A dog is barking somewhere, and even from the outside you can hear the sounds of the patrons screaming over each other. For a split second you wonder, if one of the voices belongs to your target, but decide against it. He didn't seem the type to raise his voice. Perhaps that was one of the things, which unsettled you about him.

Tossing the necklace a couple of times in your hand, you observe as the gold shines in the light coming from the lanterns strung out around the city. There, right under the lower half of the cross, you could see a tiny groove. As if it was meant to be unscrewed or something of the sort. Deciding against hanging around in the ark alley right outside the bar, you put the necklace around your neck.

You manage to take about five steps, before some force grabs onto the back of your shirt. A hand twists itself into the torn material, and yanks you back so fast, and so hard, you completely loose balance. The brick wall of the lower part of the bar greets you with sharp pain, the impact knocking the wind out of your lungs. Stars swim in front of your eyes and your stomach twists and turns, as a sudden wave of nausea overcomes you.

Then, all you see is yellow.

He's here, arm pressed right under your chin with unwavering strength, his golden eyes bearing into you, watching you struggle against him. The smell of smoke, seawater and wine engulfs you whole, and suddenly the weight of the stolen necklace on your chest becomes unbearable. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. If you thought you were scared of the strange man before, now you're downright terrified.

- Not many people would dare to steal from me - his voice is steady, almost bored, but your ears pick up on the subtle tone of curiosity - Let alone do so successfully.

Perhaps it's the alcohol in your system, or perhaps your ego has grown much too big, but you almost feel as if the man is impressed.

- Tell me, what is your name? - his arm digs a bit further into your skin before retracting ever so slightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to remind you, that he could do so very easily.

Your tongue darts out to wet you lips, and you will yourself to sound even a fraction less scared than you truly felt.

- I'm nobody - you whisper fervently - I'm nothing. It was a stupid joke, I'm so sorry.

His eyes scan your face, taking in your disheveled hair, the way your eyebrows scrunch together, the way your lips tremble. His gaze slides further down to your panicked pulse running rampant, catching slightly at your heaving chest, before snapping back up. Freezing chills run up and down your body, and your legs kick out slightly, trying to find better footing, to regain some control over the situation. He gives you no such chance, as his arm pushes your neck further into the wall, and as your breath leaves you, your body starts to struggle.

- Nobody. Nothing. And yet you've managed to steal from me - something akin to subdued mirth flashes in his golden irises - If only for a moment.

His other hand rises and your heart stops in your chest, as you feel the tips of his fingers tracing the line of the necklace, from the juncture between your neck and your arm, sliding lower. There is no mistaking the small gasp leaving your lips, when he reaches the heavy cross nestled right on top of your breasts. He taps the goden piece once, twice, before grasping it firmly and giving it a hard yank. The clasp at the back digs painfully into your skin before it gives out, snapping and falling right into his hand.

- You're a curious little thief - his voice lowers, as he inclines his head to look at you closer - For that reason, I'll let you live, this one time. The world needs some chaos, after all.

You expect him to move away, give you space to breathe and disapear into the night. Yet, none of you make a move. Your body stays pinned to the wall, the bricks spreading cold throughout your back. He never retreats, standing firmly in his place, as his arm still presses itself into the crook of your neck. Finally, you risk enough to get a good look at him, from the silky black hair, the perfectly trimmed facial hair and the elegant dip of his collar bones. And, oh, his pupils are dilated. For the first time, you discover a change in his unrelenting gaze.

The gold retracts, giving way to the swallowing blackness of his pupil, as his eyebrows furrow in confusion at the situation at hand. You'd be confused too, if you didn't feel the tell-tale buzzing forming in your guts, low in your stomach. Your tongue darts out again, wetting your lips, and with undeniable satisfaction you watch his gaze flicker downwards.

- Is there something else you want? - his eyes snap back up at the husky tone of your voice, and you give him just a tiny ghost of a smirk.

He recoils immediately, albeit, never taking the arm off of your body.

- I am not some teenage boy who can't control his urges - he sounds almost offended, as he straightens himself, and fixes you with a stern glare.

Too bad. His previous slip-up has already filled your head with devious ideas, which in turn, sparked a sudden flame of confidence. So, with a self-assured smile, you lean back, finally finding your footing, only to raise one of your legs, purposefully running your calf the length of his thigh. His breath hitches ever so slightly, evident more by the movement of his Adam's apple, than any sound. Then, you reach your prize, your knee knocking into something that could only be described as a sizeable erection.

- My research says otherwise, sir. - you counter with a pointed look, and the man before you freezes in his spot.

Time seems to slow down and stretch like taffy, as the man continues to stare at you, thoughts running through his head. Oh, how much you'd give to know them all. Will he kill you, you wonder as your eyes dart around the small creases forming on his forehead. Will he kiss you, his lips are parted and invitingly plush. Will there be more, your eyes follow the lines of muscles exposed under his unbuttoned coat.

At first you don't even notice, when he had taken his arm back. That is until you feel him take a firm grab of the back of your head, gathering the roots of your hair in his grasp. There is no denying the choked whine that escapes you, as he cranes your head back, nor is there a point denying the groan he gives out at your reaction.

An unspoken understanding blooms between the two of you, both of you suddenly knowing exactly how this encounter will end. For your part, you were more than excited, breathing heavily, as your mind became foggy from the feeling of his fingers in your hair. And if his darkened eyes and slight blush dusting the highest points of his cheekbones were any indication, you seemed to have similar effect on the man.

- For all the research you seem to be doing - your brain feels hot and heavy in your skull, as you try to shift your focus onto his words, and not the way his lips curled into something akin of a smirk - There's one thing you didn't bother to check, did you?

All you can do is stare at him blankly. his other hand starts to toy with the necklace, turning it in his palm.

- Have you checked, if my necklace is made of gold? - he asks matter-of-factly, tilting his head to the side.

Your mouth opens and closes, no words coming out, as you continue to stare with growing confusion. Then, a glint of a golden cross catches your attention, as the man moves it higher for you to see.

- Did you check it? - he accentuates his words, and you shiver under his intense gaze.

You shake your head no, and your neck feels as if it's made of lead.

- Use your words, thief.

- No

You don't recognize your voice, so meek and small.

Then, all thoughts leave your head, because he lifts the lover tip of the cross and places it on top of your lower lip, pressing slightly, and watching with fascination as the cold metal creates a small indent in the plush flesh.

- Check it.

Again, your brain seems to be moving in slow motion, but when it catches on, a glint of mischief swirls in your eyes. You open your mouth, let the necklace land on your lower teeth, and then, craning your neck, you bite down, like a good thief that you are.

It's gold alright. Albeit, the part currently between your teeth seems to be hollowed out. Your brows knit for a second, as this new information registers in your mind. So you were right before, the small indent is meant to separate one piece of the necklace from the other.

With a slowly blooming smirk, you let your tongue dart out swirling over the metal. The man's eyes widen ever so slightly, and he pulls back at the necklace. With some fight, you let it go, but not before giving it another lick, this one much more suggestive and pointed.

- You're a devil of a woman - Mihawk breathes, before untangling his other hand from your hair.

Both hands now, he grips the necklace, and your mouth runs dry at the sight of his fingers smearing your saliva onto the metal. And then he pulls. Your heartbeat momentarily quickens, as your eyes register another form of metal glistening in the dim light.

A knife. Small but incredibly sharp, your body starts to shiver but it's not out of fear. He drops the other part of the necklace into his pocket, and gathers the front of your shirt into a tight grip. Your breath hitches, as you feel the tip of the knife slide up under your clothes. It scratches a path from your navel, up to your collarbones, and as the material bunches, the man suddenly yanks the blade upwards. Your entire body jumps from the wall, and your squeak of surprise is accompanied by the loud tearing of your shirt's material.

You fall back against the bricks, and Mihawk leans onto his heels as if he's appreciating an art piece.

- Now we match - you manage to breathe out.

He humms, deep in his chest, and as suddenly as he just tore your clothes off, he dives towards you, open mouth landing right between your breasts.

The moan he wretches from you would be embarrassing if you could only bring yourself to care. But you can't, not when his hot tongue traces patterns all across your stomach, stopping to swirl around each one of your nipples. Like a man starved, he drinks you in, hands pushing and pulling against your hips in a rythmn, that feels more and more like a promise of what's to come.

Your hands flail at your sides, desperate to find any sort of purchase. Fingernails scarpe against the bricked wall, as Mihawk's stubble tickles a path from your collar bones and up your throat, stopping for a moment, to give a few nips to the skin just below your ear. Another whine is wrenched from you, as the man places an open mouthed kiss to the scrape your previous encounter with the surface of the table has left on your skin. Then, finally, he pulls back for just a moment, drinking in the sight of your heaving chest and the redness which has engulfed your entire face.

- Beautiful - he concludes in the same, steady tone, as if he's stating an obvious fact, not paying a compliment.

It works on you all the same, and with a gasp, you lurch forward, your lips forcefully colliding with his. The kiss is deep and filled with passion you're not sure you've ever felt in your entire life. As his mouth and tongue work the insides of yours, you feel him slide his hand from your hips to the front, fingers pulling with urgency at the laces of your breeches. You can only pray, that there's no one taking a midnight stroll through the streets, as another loud moan escapes you. He does his best to swallow it, but something tells you he takes immense pride in the reactions you give him, as his efforts at keeping you quiet are haphazard at best.

Then, after finally winning the battle with your lacing, his hand pushes itself into your undergarments. Your head smacks back against the wall, when he begins to touch you where you need him the most. Expert fingers find your bundle of nerves in an instant, but before you get too carried away, one of your arms encircles his wrist.

Mihawk tilts his head, an unspoken question clear in his golden gaze.

- No time - you pant out, and for a moment worry, he doesn't quite register your words, with the way his focus shifts immediately to your swollen lips - No time, just... Just fuck me, Mihawk.

That seems to reach him just fine, because as soon as the words leave you, his arms shoot out towards his pants. He makes quick work of the massive belt buckle, and with impatient hands yanks his erection out of his underwear. You'd lie, if you said the view didn't worry you just a little bit. But excitement was your drug of choice, and right now you felt as if you could explode at any given moment. With shaky hands, you try to shimmy out of your pants. Seeing your rather clumsy efforts, Mihawk stops you.

With half-lidded eyes you watch him kneel down in front of you, gently pulling your breeches down, before lifting each of your feet, so you could step out of them.

- I think I like seeing you like this - you comment, as he leans forward to kiss the space under your right knee.

- The view from here is also quite spectacular - he counters, kissing up your thigh and making you gasp, as his stubble presses into the mound of flesh just below your stomach.

Still, there is no time, so you reach down towards his shoulder, and pull him up.

- Please - you whisper against his lips, and who is he, to deny a lady in need.

Lifting one of your legs in a tight grip, finally, his hips snap up, filling you to the brim. Your muscles tense, as you try to accommodate his size. To his credit, he stays still, face pressed into the crook of your neck, where you can feel his strained breath. Finally, you let yourself relax. tapping him on the shoulder, to let him know he can continue.

And continue he does, slowly at first, dragging your body from the wall every time he retracts, only to come back in with an agonizing pace. You don't really know who's more frustrated at that point, because as soon, as you try to wriggle your hips more, to force him to pick up the pace, all resolve seems to dissapear. His hand grips your thigh even harder, enough to leave a reminder for the later days. The other tangles itself into your hair, pulling at the strands. And then he truly puts in work, hips snapping in a punishing pace that makes your back scrape against the brick wall. You hide your face in his coat, inhaling his scent and praying that the thick material will be sufficient at muffling your moans of pleasure.

There's pressure, building steadily in your guts, and it doesn't take you long, to feel the band snap somewhere deep inside you. Your muscles tense and your eyes roll back, as you begin to shudder in his grasp, knees giving out completely, so only his own strength is saving you from colliding with the floor. Soon, he follows with a low grunt, nearly toppling over, when his own release hits him.

His arm holds you close to him, as he uses the other one to steady himself against the wall. Both of you are panting heavily, none of you ready to move just yet. You rest your cheek against his chest, and feel him press his face to the top of your head, inhaling your scent as if this wasn't just a quick dalliance in a dark alley.

- You should get back to your friend - Mihawk's voice is muffled by your hair - They must be dreading all the atrocities I could've bestowed upon you.

You laugh breathlessly, finally pushing him back and appreciating the flush on his cheeks, and the way his hair has flown out of place from under that impressive hat.

- Yes, those atrocities have been very great indeed.

***

Your friend sits alone at the same table you've left them. Their head is hidden in their hands, and three empty bottles litter the space before them. It seems they have already started to mourn your untimely death.

The inside of the bar has quieted down, as the closing hours began to loom over the patrons, a few stragglers still hanging around the bar, sowly finishing their respective drinks.

Unceremoniously, you sit down right in front of your friend, wincing ever so slightly at the discomfort still lingering in your muscles, kicking their leg under the table and watching them nearly jump out of their seat with fright.

- You... - their eyes have a difficulty focusing on your face, but when they do, it's like the heavens have opened before them. - You're alive!

Your eyes are glowing, and your face is still blushed from your previous encounter. You lean forward with a brilliant smile, hands slapping onto the wooden table.

- So - you can't help but laugh - About fucking with him...

#dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #mihawk x reader #my writing #one piece live action #stuck between a wall and a hard pirate helloooo

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