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mytherapyisreading14 · 3 days ago

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Hii! Could make a smutt fic with post prison Spencer fic where the reader and Spencer are like best friends/roommates and she has a massive crush on him and he’s in her room looking for something and finds her diary with all of the dreams she’s had about him and they are like extremely kinky like spitting in her mouth and using his handcuffs on her and while he’s reading the diary she walks in on him and she gets like really embarrassed and he’s being the biggest tease to her and then they fuck. Also could you include the spit kink in the smutt part? If you’re not comfortable with that then it’s fine :). Ps I sent this request to another writer like a week ago but they said that they couldn’t do it because they were only doing blurbs.

A Dream Come True

Summary: When Spencer comes over for one of your weekly movie nights, he accidentally finds your diary and discovers your secret.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby etc.), praise kink, spit kink, choking, fingering, use of handcuffs, oral sex (f), unprotected sex (stay safe y’all), multiple orgasms, dom!spencer (If I missed any warnings, please tell me)

Word Count: 3,3k

Author’s Note: I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday and finished writing this to distract me from the pain (didn’t work though) 😩 Anyway, I hope you like it! :)

You're standing in the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies hits your nose. You decided to bake some cookies before Spencer is coming over for your weekly movie night. Baking also distracts you from the thoughts that have been consuming you more and more in the last few weeks.

You've always liked Spencer, but in the last few weeks, after he got out of prison, you've been spending even more time together. He needed a distraction and when he finally was ready for it, he also talked to you about what had happened to him.

It broke your heart when he told you what he had to go through. You're glad the team managed to get him out of there. You don't even want to think about how bad it would have been if he had to stay any longer.

You take a look at the clock, Spencer will be here soon. You can't wait, the nervousness tingles in your stomach like usual when you think about him. With a light sigh you put away the last ingredients, while your eyes keep wandering to the calendar on the wall.

You can't say exactly when they started. These... dreams. At first they were just fleeting thoughts that distracted you from the stressful everyday life, but now they are much more than that.

They are firmly imprinted in your mind, as if they are another reality taking up more and more space in your life. You shake your head, trying to compose yourself, but it doesn't work. The desire for these dreams to finally become reality gets stronger everyday, especially when you spend time with him.

You go to your room and open the diary that is still lying on your bed after your last entry this morning. A shiver runs down your spine as you read the words and the memories of your last dream come flooding back.

But the familiar ringing of the door bell snaps you out of your thoughts. Spencer is here. You quickly close the diary and shove it back under your small cupboard in your room where no one can find it.

You open the door and your heart immediately beats faster when you see him. With his messy curls falling over his face and that cute smile he never fails to blow you away. Your breath hitches for a moment as he looks at you.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks as he takes a step towards you and holds out a small bag of gummy bears. “I brought you your favorite gummy bears. They were almost sold out, but I still managed to get a package.” You can’t help but fall into his arms.

“Thank you,” you say, holding him for a moment longer than necessary. It feels so good to feel him close, to breathe in that familiar scent of him. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest. But then he breaks the moment.

“Did you bake something? I think I can smell cookies,” Spencer says and your eyes widen in shock. "Oh no! My cookies!” you shout, practically jumping out of his arms and storming into the kitchen.

You turn off the oven, take the cookies out and carefully place them on the tray to let them cool off. Spencer follows you, still grinning as he watches you. “Just in time,” you say as you run your hand through your hair. “A moment longer and they would have burned.”

“It's good that I'm not only a genius, but also have a good nose,” he jokes. “Or you’re just hungry,” you answer with a grin as you put the cookies aside. “That too. And you know they are my favorite cookies. I can't just let them burn,” he says and you laugh.

“But they have to cool down before you can eat them. If you want we can already start to watch a movie now,” you say and go over to the living room with him, grabbing a few pillows and blankets to make it even more comfortable on the couch.

"So," Spencer says as he sits down next to you and adjusts the pillows, "what movie are we watching first?" You think about it for a while, deciding whether you want to watch something romantic, funny or classic. Finally, your choice falls on Back to the Future. A movie that you both love.

When you want to turn on the television, you suddenly notice that the remote control is no longer working. “Oh no, the batteries are dead,” you mumble and take them out. “Where do you keep the new ones?” Spencer asks, leaning back and watching you. “I can go and get them while you get us something to drink.”

You nod. “They are in the bottom drawer in the small cupboard across my bed,” you tell him. “All right,” Spencer says, getting up and going to your room to get them. While he's in your bedroom, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. If only you knew what he really thinks about you...

Spencer goes into your room to get the batteries. But when he tries to open the bottom drawer like you told him, it gets stuck, which surprises him. He leans down to look what’s causing it, maybe he can fix it for you. But then he notices that there is a book lying under the cupboard.

Curious, he pulls it out and examines it for a moment. He flips through the pages, slowly, as if he can't help himself. His eyes widen when he realizes it's full of entries - entries about the two of you together specifically. It’s your diary. Full of your thoughts about him.

And not just your thoughts. You also wrote down the dreams you had about him, the wishes and desires you couldn't keep to yourself anymore. Your feelings that you never expressed. Spencer continues reading, and with each word it seems as if the world stops.

You, on the other hand, are now wondering where he is. Why doesn't he come back? You go to your room and open the door. “Spence, did you find them or should I help -” You pause, your eyes immediately falling on the book in his hand and your heart beats faster. You blush as you realize what he just discovered.

He looks at you and a grin spreads across his face. “I found a really interesting book under your cupboard. Why did you hide it from me? I would’ve love to read it sooner,” he says as he takes a step towards you. You feel like the ground is threatening to fall away from under your feet. Your pulse is pounding in your ears and you try to stay calm. “Spence…” you whisper, but you can’t say anything more. You're way too nervous.

He looks at you for another second, as if he's getting lost in your reaction, before holding the diary out to you, grinning ever wider. “You probably not only dream about me every night, but also write everything down so you can think about it again and again, right?”

You feel the blood rush to your head and you almost feel dizzy with embarrassment. "I... uh..." you stammer, "It's not what you think..." Spencer laughs. “No?” he asks as he flips the diary over to the page on which you wrote down your last dream about him.

“Well, I think it's kind of cute that you're so lost in your dreams. But you know what?” You look at him uncertainly as he slowly takes a step closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Now that I know about them, I can make them all come true,” he says quietly. For a moment his eyes are so intense you feel like you could sink into them.

Your mind is racing and you can't believe what he just said. Then he suddenly pushes you against the wall and kisses you. The kiss is not gentle, it’s full of desire and hunger. His tongue pushes between your lips, tasting you. You can feel the heat rushing through your body, pressing your thighs together.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more. “I’m going to leave you now. When I come back, I want to see you laying on the bed naked, with your legs spread apart. You’re not allowed to touch yourself. Do you understand?” he asks, his voice firm and eyes full of lust.

You nod and a shiver runs down your spine. “Yes, I… I understand,” you breathe out. He smirks before he grabs your diary and turns around to leave the room. You heart is pounding in your chest and you're shivering in excitement. You do as your told and take off your clothes to lay down on the bed, waiting for him to come back.

Spencer however sits down on the couch to read through all of your diary entries. He feels his pants getting uncomfortably tighter the more he reads and one entry particularly draws his attention. You had this dream 2 days ago.

He used his handcuffs to tie you to the bed, kissed down your body before going over to tease you by squeezing your breasts and biting down on your nipples. You begged him to touch you and when he decided that he teased you enough, he went over to eating you out and fucking you with his fingers. And then, after you came, he leaned forward and spit into your mouth.

Spencer never expected you to dream of things like this, but he is more than happy to make them come true. His cock is getting harder and he decides you waited long enough. Luckily, yesterday after you got off work, you got some take out and drove to your place to eat dinner together. He left his vest and jacket, in which he also packed his handcuffs, hanging in your apartment because he knew he would be back today anyway.

He stands up and goes over to get his handcuffs. He straps them to the back of his pants so you don’t see them right away. Then he goes into your room and opens the door. You lay on the bed, with your legs spread apart, just like he told you. He smirks and comes closer, his eyes wander over your body.

You feel extremely exposed and have to resist the urge to put your arms in front of your body to cover yourself. But then you see Spencer's tongue licking his bottom lip and his eyes darken. “You look so beautiful, baby. I can’t wait to finally touch you,” he says and gets onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you again and you run your fingers through his hair.

He kisses your neck before leaning closer to your ear again. “Do you trust me, baby?” he asks and you nod. He shakes his head. “I need words,” he says and you answer him immediately. “Yes, Spencer. I trust you.” He looks pleased. “Good. Can you close your eyes for me?”

You close your eyes and feel him shift, excited to find out what he planned to do to you. You can feel his hands reaching for yours, then you hear the clatter of metal and feel something cold close around your wrist. You know exactly what comes next and a shiver runs down your spine.

He lifts your hands over your head and ties you to the headboard. You can’t help but smile and he notices. “I see, you’re already enjoying this. You can open your eyes now. I want you to look at me when I touch you,” he says. You open your eyes and look up to Spencer above you.

“I have to admit, your dream from two nights ago surprised me. I really liked reading it. I decided to make this one come true first,” he says before he starts to slowly kiss down your neck. He goes further down around your breasts and then your stomach before he spreads your legs apart and leaves kisses between your inner thighs. When he bits down on the soft skin to leave a hickey there you can’t help but moan.

“Please, I - I need you,” you say and try to reach down to press him against you. But you forget that you’re held back by the handcuffs. Spencer chuckles when he sees you like this, helpless and desperate for more. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want,” he says and his hands wander upwards to your breasts again.

He starts to squeeze the right one and leans down to lick over your left nipple before taking it in his mouth. He bites down gently first and then he starts to suck. All the man you had before never really paid that much attention to your breasts and your surprised how good it feels with him.

When he pulls away and blows cold air on your nipple you shiver again. He turns his attention to the other one and you can’t help but moan. “More…please. I need you to fuck me,” you beg him but he just ignores you and continues his actions.

You press your legs together to relief the ache between your legs but he notices and pushes them apart again with his knee. He grabs your chin with his hand and holds you firm, looking into your eyes. “You have to be patient, baby. I want to take my time with you,” he says.

You nod but a silent cry escapes your lips. The way he’s touching your body leaves you craving him even more and after all these weeks of dreaming about this, you don't want to wait any longer. But you know it won't do any good to keep begging. Instead you focus entirely on his lips, his hands and how he touches your body.

When Spencer finally decides that he teased you enough he slowly leans down, hands running up your thighs before spreading your legs even further to get in between them. You look down and in that moment you wish you’d had an eidetic memory too because you never want to forget the way he looks at you now.

“I always wanted to know what you taste like, baby,” he says and you can feel his warm breath against your pussy. Then he finally leans in and starts to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. The touch is light, teasing again and all you want is to pull him closer and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. His eyes never leave yours when he starts to devour you.

You can’t help but grind against him and this time, he gives you what you want. One hand moves up to your hip, the other one under your ass and he pulls you closer to him while his tongue continues to move in and out of you. He applies more pressure and adds two fingers, making you moan his name over and over again.

“I’m close,” you manage to breath out and Spencer flicks his tongue over your clit. “Come for me baby, come on my mouth,” he says and you let go. Your back arches off the bed when your orgasm hits you but that doesn’t stop Spencer. He just continues what he’s doing, taking everything in.

Your orgasm slowly ebbs away and Spencer comes up from between your legs, his eyes full of lust. He gently runs a finger over your lip and smirks. “Open up for me, baby,” he says and then you realize what he’s about to do. You shiver in excitement and open your mouth.

Then he leans forward and spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” You obey and keep eye contact with him the whole time. “Good girl,” he praises you and gently kisses you, holding you close to him. He gives you a minute to recover, which you gladly take before he starts to undress himself.

Your eyes widen, he’s definitely bigger than you expected. He goes back in between your legs and slowly runs his tip through your folds. “Just… just fuck me already. Please,” you beg him. “You’re so needy, baby. You want to take it all at once? Fine, then have it.” He thrusts inside of you.

You feel the pleasure rushing through your body, expanding every time he hits your g-spot while he fucks you in a restless pace. “You look so pretty like this. Tied to the bed and fucked out for me. You’re all mine now. Gonna make all your dreams come true,” he says and grabs your hips to hold you firm.

He continues to fuck you until you’re crying out his name. He comes closer and wraps a hand around your throat, before kissing your neck again, leaving more hickeys. When he starts to circle your clit again you feel like you’re going to explode from the intense pleasure.

“Spence, need to… please, please…” you whine, unable to form a complete sentence. He chuckles, clearly amused to see you so desperate for him. “Baby, I don’t understand you. You have to tell me what you want,” he teases, squeezing your throat more and slowing down for a moment.

“I - I want -“ you begin but get cut off again by a moan when he thrusts harder into you again. “Look at that, you’re a complete mess. You clearly don’t know what you want, do you? I’m afraid I have to stop then” he teases. “No!” you answer immediately, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close.

“Tell me what you want then, otherwise I can’t help you. Come on, I know you can do it,” he says. “I want to… I want to come. Please,” you finally manage to say before your eyes roll back again. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he says and releases the hand around your throat to speed up his thrusts again.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably when your orgasms hits you and Spencer fucks you through it, finishing inside you a moment later. You can feel his cum deep inside of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and giving both of you a moment to calm down.

Then he sits up, leaning forward to untie you. You immediately cuddle up to him, holding him as close as possible. “Are you okay? Do you need anything baby? Water maybe?” he asks and gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “No, please just hold me in your arms now,” you say and he pulls you even closer against him.

He runs his hands through your hair and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. After a while you look up to him, with a smile on your face. “That was even better than in my dreams,” you mumble, still exhausted. He laughs and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m glad to hear that.”

For a moment everything is quiet, you just enjoy lying in bed together and holding each other in your arms. Then Spencer shifts closer. “You know, tonight it wasn't just your dreams that came true. I wanted this - you - for a long time now too,” he admits and your heart skips a beat.

“Well then I'm happy you found my diary today. Who knows how long it would have taken us before one of us made a move,” you say and laugh. Spencer grins. “Oh definitely way too long,” he says before he leans forward to kiss you again. “I love you,” he says and you smile against his lips. “I love you too.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #post prison reid

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moody-alcoholic · 3 days ago

Text

Ex-boyfriend

The block is back with a vengeance, writing a little bit of angst to try and break it. It kind ends weird, I think I'll make a smut follow up for this something along the lines of; 'let us fuck away the thought of your ex.'

Summary: Ghoap x reader. Neighbors to lovers??

CW: domestic abuse, violence, alcohol, description of injuries, angst, little hurt/comfort.

___

Another shouting match, another night listening to him plead through your front door. This time it’s different though. He hit you, it still doesn’t feel real, you can’t even remember what you were fighting about.

Your face throbs though, a sick reminder that in fact it did happen. You didn’t even flinch, when his fist crashed square into the side of your face.

“Please babe, it won’t happen again.” He calls. He’s right, it won’t happen again because you’re never going to see him again.

“Go away!” You shout through your sniffles. You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want to look weak but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as you saw him with his fist raised, the person you thought you loved, there was no stopping the tears.

You hear a door open in the hall. “Alright mate, maybe you should go. She clearly doesn’t want you bothering her.” You hear Johnny’s familiar Scottish accent fill the halls. Great now you’ve bothered your neighbours.

“Not really any of your business is it.” Your boyfriend snaps back. You put your head in your hands. This is all your fault, you don’t want to cause a scene, you just want him to leave.

“It is when you’re shouting in the hall while I'm tryin’ to relax.” Johnny replies. You need to stop this, this is your fault. You pull yourself up to your feet.

“Wouldn’t be in the hall if she would just let me in so we could talk.” Your boyfriend says banging on the door again. You look through the peephole, you see Johnny leaning in his doorway, your boyfriend is almost squaring up to him.

You let out a breath to compose yourself, quickly wipe your tears away and open the door. They both turn to look at you. Johnny straightens up and your boyfriend comes towards you but you step back.

“Go home. I’ll call you.” You say, your voice cracks. You feel the confidence you had slip away. You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad, you don’t care, you just want him gone.

“I’ll call you.” You repeat, anything to get him gone. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t try to come in. He just lets out a sigh and turns to leave, shooting once last glare at Johnny on the way out. You let out a shaky breath looking over at Johnny.

“I’m sorry about the noise.” You say, you’re barely holding it together, you need to get back inside so you can throw yourself in bed and just cry. Johnny steps up to you with a concerned look on his face.

“Screw the noise, did he do that to ya lass?” He asks. You don’t know what to say, you open your mouth but words don’t come out, instead you just sob throwing your head in your hands again.

Arms wrap around you and he squeezes you against him. Johnny’s hugged you before, he’s a very friendly person. He would throw his arm around your shoulders and walk you back to your flat when you would both run into each other.

This hug is different though, maybe it’s the embarrassment making you over think things but this feels like a proper hug.

“Si!” He calls as he starts to rub your back with his hand, the sobbing is relentless now, it feels like you can’t get a breath of air.

“What?” You hear Simon say. Johnny breaks from the hug moving to the side and you look up at him standing in the doorway. You don’t see Simon as much but he’s always there. You remember when you moved in they helped carry boxes for you. Then they both bought you a homemade shepherd's pie and bottle of wine to welcome you to the building.

You watch as Simon’s jaw clenches he lets out a sigh then crosses his arms. You feel sick, embarrassed. You just want this night to be over. You hang your head sniffling and wiping the tears.

“How about a cup of tea?” Johnny asks his hand comes to your waist and you look up at him. You nod and he smiles guiding you back into your flat. You expect Johnny to go into the kitchen but he doesn’t he takes you over the sofa and Simon goes into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Johnny asks as you sit down, he sits next to you with his hand your back.

“We were fighting.” You sniffle feeling more tears come. You don’t try to stop them. Johnny pulls the box of tissues over and you take one.

“I can’t even remember what it was about. Something stupid.” You say blowing your nose.

“Has this ever happened before?” You look up at him and shake your head.

“I think maybe we had too much to drink.” You say trying to find some kind of reason. You look over at the dining room table, the half drunk bottle of wine and the half eaten food. You hear the kettle click and you look over at Simon in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you. I know it’s not the first time he’s been shouting in the hall.” You say, Johnny squeezes you tighter.

“Not a problem.” He says smiling. Simon comes over and places a mug down in front of you.

“Thank you. He’s not always like this.” You say looking up at Simon. He hums looking round the flat then comes to sit next to you. You keep your eyes on him as he looks round your face, his hand brushes your cheek. Even his soft touch has you gritting your teeth, it’s going to leave a nasty bruise.

“Johnny, go see if there’s any ice in the freezer. Or a bag of peas.” Simon says, dropping his hand. Johnny moves instantly, bouncing into the kitchen, you don’t have time to tell him you have no ice.

“Will mixed veg do?” He asks, sticking his head round through the door holding up the bag. It makes you smile, he smiles too when he sees you then goes back into the kitchen.

“Do you want to call the police?” Simon asks. You swallow, dread rises in you. You hadn’t even thought about that, you feel more tears come and you look over at your mug of tea.

“You don’t have to press charges, just get it on the record.” Johnny says as he comes back with the bag of veg wrapped in a tea towel. You look up at him, the last thing you want to do right now is talk to the police. You don’t get time to answer them though, the lock turning on the door makes your breath catch in your throat.

Shit, you forgot he has a key.

Simon stands up as the door opens and your boyfriend walks in. He freezes looking over at you for a second before scoffing and shaking his head.

“I fucking knew it.” He says. You can’t breathe, your whole body tenses. “Couldn’t even wait five fucking minutes.”

You stand up. “It’s not what you think.” You plead, the sob coming back. You feel Johnny’s hands on your shoulders.

“I always knew you were a fucking whore.” He snaps, there’s a slur in his voice.

“Hey!” Johnny calls, squeezing your shoulders. Simon tuts, turning to look at you both quickly then walks round the sofa. You can see a bottle of something in his hands. Where did he even get that from? He was always a mean drunk.

You always told yourself it was the alcohol though, it wasn’t really him. He would never be like that with you when he was sober. Until now.

“What do you want then?” Your boyfriend asks, throwing his arms out as Simon walks over to him. He looks tiny compared to Simon, his hulking figure almost blocks out your boyfriend.

Ex, ex-boyfriend.

“Let's have a chat, outside.” Simon says with a low tone, nodding at the door.

“Na mate.” Your ex says, moving to look around Simon and points at you. “How long huh? How long have you been fucking them?”

“I’m not.” You say, fresh tears blur your vision.

“I won’t ask again.” Simon says, moving back in front of your ex.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snaps. You almost miss your ex swinging at Simon. A gasp leaves your throat as you watch him dodge it. A split second later Simon drives his fist into your ex’s stomach. He drops the bottle of liquor and you swear you can hear the air leaving his lungs as he grunts doubling over.

Simon grips his shoulders, almost carrying him out the flat and into the hall. “We’re going to have a quick chat.” It sounds like Simon’s growling. A second later the door slams closed. You turn to look at Johnny.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think..” You slump back down on the sofa. Johnny reaches over, picking up the bag of veg wrapped in the tea towel. He presses it on your head and you wince, you takeover for him, replacing his hand with yours.

“He’s a mean drunk.” You say.

“He’s an arsehole.” Johnny says his hand lands on your thigh. You look over at him and smile. The door opens and you both look over to see Simon coming in. He walks over to the coffee table and puts down a set of keys. You stand up dropping the bag on the sofa and walk round the table over to him.

You wrap your arms around him, for a second it's like he’s not quite sure what to do. When his arms wrap around your back you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” You say into his chest.

“It’s okay.” He says. You feel Johnny behind you, his hand landing on the small of your back. You break from the hug looking up at Simon.

“I’m sorry he tried to hit you.” You say. He smiles, you haven’t seen him smile much, he has a nice smile.

“Don’t worry, I've dealt with worse.” Simon says, his hand comes up to your cheek he brushes the tears away.

“Sit down, drink your tea.” He says, you nod sitting down on the sofa next to Johnny. His hand lands on your thigh, you reach over for the mug. It’s lukewarm at this point but you don’t care, you drink it down while your head throbs.

“Do you want one of us to stay the night?” Simon asks going over to the front door picking up the bottle of vodka.

“No, it’s okay.” You say, you don’t really want to be alone but you don’t want to come between them.

“I’ll stay.” Johnny says, Simon nods going into the kitchen.

“I don’t want to take you from Simon. I’ll be fine, honestly.” You say turning to look at him.

“Is that his only key?” Johnny asks, gesturing at the one on the table. You could so easily lie, you don’t want to be a bother. You shake your head.

“Then I'm staying.” He says pulling your chin up to look at him. Christ, he has nice eyes too, deep and blue, they make you think of the ocean.

“Thank you.” You say, you’re going to have to make it up to them at some point. Simon comes out into the living room and Johnny lets your chin go.

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.” He says heading for the door.

“What no kiss?” Johnny calls after him. He stops and walks back over Johnny who’s sat with a cheeky grin on his face. You evert your eyes when they kiss, it feels like you’re invading their privacy. Why are the hot ones always gay?

“You alright?” Simon asks you, you look up at him feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Yeah. Thank you again, for everything.” You say smiling at him. He nods and heads to the door. You watch him leave, listening as you hear their door open and close. You turn to Johnny who's now laid back on the sofa with his arm over the back.

"C'mon lass, I'm nice and warm," he says gesturing for you to lean up against him. You hesitate for a second then lay against him. He wraps his other arm round you and you let out a sigh.

"He's never gonna hurt you again." He says, you smile. No he won't, you never want to see him again.

____

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luveline · 17 hours ago

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so i had this silly thought the other night while i was doing a mud mask of jack stumbling upon reader (could be bombshell r, hotchner r, or whoever u would like <3) doing a mud mask and not quite understanding what it is (although r tries to explain it to him), and later on jack’s teacher tells aaron that jack and/or his friends were trying to apply mud to their faces at recess to ��help their skin’ 😭 so then r has to clarify that u can’t just put any mud on ur face haha and maybe she offers to get some face masks for her and jack (and maybe aaron?) to try together <3 i know this is a bit of a silly idea and it may be too specific so ofc no pressure at all if this doesn’t inspire u!! u write aaron (and jack!) so well and i love everything u put out jade thank u for sharing ur writing with us <333

-💫

“Y/N, what the heck are you doing?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “What kind of language is that, babe? What would your daddy say if he heard you saying that?”

Jack doesn’t even pretend to act chastened. If there’s one thing Jack Hotchner knows about you, it’s that you’re wrapped around his little finger, forever and always. It’s all you can do to keep your arms to yourself as he crawls into bed next to you.

“Is that cucumber?”

“Want some?” you ask.

Jack takes a piece of cucumber and munches on it with a wet snap. “Your face has mud on it.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

You peek at him through one eye. “It apparently draws out the impurities in my face. I’m not sure how it happens, but it makes my skin feel really soft when I wash it off.”

“Oh. But it’s mud.”

“Yeah, it is, I don’t know how it happens. Must be magic.” You love Jack’s little face. He’s cute. His hair is still blonde at the ends, last bits of summer clinging to him, a tan on his pert nose. “Would you wanna try it?”

“How long does it have to be on?”

“About ten minutes. Or before it dries. We wash it off with a face towel.”

“Okay. But just a little bit.”

“Sure, babe. You can tell me if it’s too much.”

Jack sits in front of your lap. You unscrew the pot of clay mask and use the small spreader it comes with to scoop up the mask. Cold, you whisper, but Jack giggles anyways, startled at the feeling as you smooth it over his forehead, his cheeks, and his round chin. You use your fingertips to connect the sections, colour in his nose, and smooth it out. Jack lets his eyes close in little-kid bliss, like he might fall asleep.

“Do you want the cucumbers on your eyes?” you ask.

“For relaxing?”

“Yeah, they’re cold too.”

He lays back on Aaron's side of the bed and you plop on his cucumbers. Fifteen minutes later you encourage him into the bathroom to wash it away, holding his chin, warm, clay-stained water running down his neck. He insists on returning the favour, which ends in you squeezing his cheeks to tell him you love him, which makes him fluster like his father at the receiving end of a good compliment. “I love you too,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“Feel how soft your cheek is,” you say.

“I think you have to wash your face,” he says back. “Sorry.”

It’s great. By the time Aaron’s home from work you’re both super soft and while you don’t offer any explanation, he seems to notice, lackadaisical finger against Jack's cheek prompting an inquisitive, “Jack, have you been in Y/N’s shower stuff again?”

“No.”

You and Jack decide to keep your relaxing afternoon a secret. You think nothing of it for a while. The next time you use your clay mask he’s sleeping at his Aunt Jess’, and Aaron asks why you’re smiling, so you tell a half truth and say you’re thinking of Jack, which makes Aaron so smiley he tries to kiss you despite the mud.

Another few days and you get Jack back, only to give him over to school. Evil school. You and Aaron go to work. It’s some time nearing 1PM when Aaron steps out of his office, buttoning his coat around his neck.

“What’s wrong?” you ask over Emily’s head.

Morgan copies your frown.

“Hotch?”

“Jack is in trouble at school. Apparently he got into a play-fight and everyone needs a change of clothes.” He gives you a look, as if to say, you gotta love him. And you really do. “I’ll be back before the end of lunch.”

“I can go?” you offer.

“I’m already wearing my coat.” He leans over to kiss your cheek and bids you goodbye.

You don’t see your partner again. When he fails to turn up after lunch, you figure he’s taken Jack home —Jack tends to get upset when bad stuff happens at school even if he was just having fun because of his astounding guilty conscience. Aaron texts you not long before you’re due to start worrying with a simple, Sorry, not going to make it back in today. Jack was a bit upset.

Your boss isn’t there, so you take a session with your coworkers, standing up at your desk and clearing your throat. “Because my boss is my boyfriend and also not here, I’ve decided to bring my query to the court.”

You wait. Your team looks at you expectantly.

“Go ahead,” Derek says.

“Jack was so upset at school that he had to go home. Do I, as his almost step mom and number one fan, have the group's permission to go home now so I can get him cookies from Ben’s?”

“Aw, he was upset?” Emily says, frowning but also cooing.

You hold your heart. “I know. He’s such a sweetheart. So, can I go?”

“You want us to do your consultations?” Spencer asks.

“No!” you say, tucking a stray curl behind Spencer’s ear and delighting in the way he shoves you away. He’s laughing as he does it, used to your affection. “You can if you want to, handsome, but I was just gonna finish it tonight on Aaron’s computer.”

“Just go,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes.

“Family emergency,” Emily agrees.

“Don’t really do my consults,” you tell Spencer, grinning when he waves you off.

You make a pit stop at Ben’s for praline filled cookies and smile despite yourself the whole way home. You’re not worried about Jack, he has his dad, and it was only dirt, you’re just excited to see him and to ditch work and to maybe, maybe, lay your head in Aaron’s lap sometime soon. He strokes the skin behind your ear and leans down to kiss you whenever he feels like it, which means you can amass upwards of five kisses an hour. It’s elastic.

“Babe?” you call, knocking open the door with a clatter. Shoes wait for you at the entryway. You leave your kitten heels by light up sketchers and dress shoes neatly lined. “Honey? Angel?”

“Are you talking to me?” Aaron calls from the door of the kitchen, suddenly in view.

“Am I in trouble?” you ask.

Aaron checks his watch. “Oh, definitely.”

“Personal paid time off?”

“Sure. What’s in the bag?”

“Oh, you know, just something special for the baby. Is he okay?”

“He’s unhappy with me, truth be told.”

“Why’s that?”

Aaron holds your gaze. “Weirdly, I think you might have a better idea of the situation than I do.”

You follow him back into the kitchen, confused and eager for an explanation. Jack’s at the door that leads to your backyard, sitting on the stoop, looking stroppy and tired and relieved to see you, which is nice. “Hey,” you say, “what’s with the frowny face, beautiful?”

“Dad doesn’t believe me.”

“Doesn’t believe you about what?”

“Me and Adrian was putting mud on our faces at school because it makes us soft, like we did, but dad doesn’t think we did it.”

“We did,” you say immediately, giving Aaron a soft, honest look, not mad at anyone and not sure where the confusion is coming from, “you’ve seen my masks, honey.”

“Your clay mask is blue,” Aaron says.

“Is not!” Jack says. “It’s red just like mud!”

“Well, when me and Jack did a mask together a couple of weeks ago, it was the red one, but it was a new one. I usually use that blue one,” you say, relieved when Aaron begins to look amused rather than slightly annoyed. “It’s my fault, babe.”

You turn to Jack. “Baby,” you say, trying your best to look serious and kind at once, “the clay mask we did together is called a mud mask, and it does have mud in it, but it’s not like the mud at school, okay? It’s probably not a good idea for you and Adrian to rub it on yourselves.”

Jack crosses his arms in front of him, slouching. “Well, how was I s’posed to know that?” he asks, sounding about as angry as he ever gets, which isn’t much.

Aaron sighs deeply. You’re sure you’re in for it, you’ve wasted half of everyone’s day now ‘cos you didn’t explain a simple concept, but then he says, “You love to exclude me, the both of you.”

“What?” you ask, gasping through a laugh.

“Doing things together and not telling me!” he insists. “If you’d let me join in, I wouldn’t have upset Jack today because I’d know why he was playing in the mud.”

You hold his gaze, refusing to break as his smile grows and grows despite the effort he pulls into staying straight.

“So I’m not in trouble?” Jack asks.

Aaron smiles. “Don’t think so, Jackers, not unless you did something I don’t know about.”

“I didn’t!”

“Then consider yourself innocent. I’m sorry I didn’t understand you.”

“I’m sorry for not explaining the difference,” you add.

Jack looks at both of you, all sunny-eyed, ready to be coddled by somebody and without a favourite. “Okay, thank you. It’s not your fault you didn’t know, dad. And it’s okay about the explaining,” he says to you seriously. ”Explaining is hard.”

Jack encroaches back into the room now he’s believed, reaching for Aaron’s legs, markedly pleased when his dad bends down to hug him. It’s an apology cuddle, but it also checks for resentment or sadness alike. Jack closes his eyes, alright with how things have worked out.

You feel ever so slightly excluded, but you do your best to stay still, loyally waiting your turn, and rewarded handsomely when Jack finishes hugging his dad and crowds you instead, arms held up insistently. There’s no protesting when you lift him onto the counter for a better hug. When you say sorry again for technically getting him into trouble, he shakes his head.

“Just an accident,” he says, in the tenor of a practised line, one of Aaron’s mantras sinking in.

“Can I make it up to you? We won’t exclude dad this time.”

Jack gets lifted from one counter to another. You let him eat one of his cookies in the bathroom (and despite his face mask) but wrinkle your nose at the idea, his dad beside him, leaning back, tie undone and t-shirt unbuttoned to the third. The slice of undershirt on display makes your week.

Completely still as he is, you raise yourself up to draw the face mask onto Aaron’s cheeks and forehead. He laughs like Jack did at the cold, more of a giggle, but he doesn’t move.

“It does feel like mud,” Aaron says.

“I told you,” Jack says. There’s cookie crumbs stuck in the mask around his mouth.

You kiss Aaron chastely.

“Just wait for how soft this is gonna make your skin,” you say.

“I think my skin is as soft as it’s going to get, but thank you, honey.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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btsugarush · 2 days ago

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I'd Hate To Say it | pjm (teaser)

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer jimin x fireader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 796

author’s note: yes yes, I’m getting back into my writing and I’ve finally posted at least the teaser to this fic lol.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest as you finally hear Jimin’s door unlock, the brunette appearing on the other side as it opens. He looks uninterested to see you, an annoyed expression on his face. “What’re you doing here, y/n?” He says dryly. You take a deep breath before you speak. “Is it true?” You ask softly.

Jimin leans against his door frame, a raised eyebrow as he waits for you to explain what you mean, but you don’t. “Is what true?” He urges you to go on. “What everyone is saying… that you– that you have something to do with that boy getting murdered.”

Jimin squints before his dark orbs survey the hallway to make sure no one is around. It was almost like he thought you were setting him up, but regardless of your estranged friendship, he still knew you better than that. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he pulled you by your arm inside his apartment and slammed the door closed. “What’s everyone saying?” He questions.

“That you, along with your little gang associates, had something to do with that shooting that happened in Busan last night.” Jimin scoffs, letting go of your arm. The brunette walks around you, running his fingers through his hair in distress. His back is turned towards you, and he stands in silence for a moment before turning to face you.

“Do you believe them?”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. It was time to face the painful truth; Jimin was no longer that sweet boy you used to know. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jimin. I mean… since I’ve been back I’ve barely recognized you. You’ve been into a lot of reckless shit, and now you have murder attached to your name? It doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore.”

Jimin scowled at your insinuation. “Then I guess you got it all figured out, don’t you? Just call the cops now if you’re so sure, y/n.” He pulls his cell from his pocket, reaching out for you to take it. “Go on, take it.” He beckons. You shake your head, refusing the phone. “I didn’t come here to prosecute you, Jimin.” You speak softly. “I came here hoping that it wasn’t you… but I can read you like a book still, and I know you had something to do with it.”

The brunette makes a ‘tsk’ sound. “So what if I did, y/n? Are you gonna rat on me?” He takes a step closer to you, the look in his eyes intimidating; but no matter how hard he tried to instill fear into you, he was still Jimin. “No… but you should turn yourself in. I don’t wanna see you go down like this, Mochi.” You utter the nickname you used to call him when you were kids.

This softens the brunette for a mere moment before he finds himself enraged. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking call me that. Don’t you fuckin’ pretend to give a shit about me. Not after you left me behind.” He grits his teeth, pointing his ringed finger in your face.

“I never left you behind,” you push his finger away, glaring at him. “I had goals, dreams to achieve. I couldn’t be stuck in this dead end life like–”

“Like me?” He cut you off. “Say it, y/n. Say like me.” He pushes. You shake your head, taking a step back from the brunette. “I’d hate to say it, but you’re a lost cause. I should’ve never come here. If you wanna ruin your life forever, that’s fine by me. I’m done caring.” You turn to exit, but Jimin isn’t done guilting you. “You never did.”

This finally boils your blood, and you whip around to face him. “I’m not the one that stopped reaching out, you did!” You remind him. You were tired of being the one to blame for your fallen friendship with Jimin. The phone worked both ways, and he was the one that stopped answering your calls, and calling altogether. “I am tired of being blamed, I am tired of your coldness towards me. I don’t know what the hell you wanted from me!”

“I wanted you to stay!” He snaps. “But you left and I was all alone! I needed you, y/n. I needed you and you fuckin’ left me…” his voice cracks, and for the first time since you’ve been back you see a glimpse of the old Jimin in his eyes. Soft. Innocent. Lost. “I… I don’t know what to say…” your voice is gentle. Jimin finds his composure, shaking his head. “I don’t need you to say shit,” he spat. “You wanna know if I killed that kid? Yeah. I did it.”

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melodyreads · 3 days ago

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Hamzah x Manager(Reader)

Summary: Y/n is the manager for Slushy Noobz. She loves being apart of such an entertaining team. Being the manager came with a lot of responsibility. However, she was finding it hard to stay professional when Hamzah was around.

a/n: i hope this concept reaches the corporate baddies, enjoy <3

—-

The room buzzed with focused energy as everyone prepped for Hamzah and Martin’s big boxing match. Y/n stood at the edge of the practice room, clipboard in hand, eyes fixed on the monitor as she tracked every play with precision. Managing Slushy Noobz with their growing and dedicated fanbase was both a privilege and a challenge—one of those challenges being the guy currently making a beeline straight for her.

Hamzah.

She exhaled sharply, looking away and pretending to be engrossed in her notes. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d go bother someone else.

No such luck.

“You look stressed,” Hamzah said as he stopped next to her, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. “That’s probably because you know the viewers are gonna be bored after I sweep this match.”

Y/n sighed, giving him a side glance. “Or because I know you and Martin are going to be running around bald soon," you said shaking your head, "there goes your TikTok edits.

Hamzah smirked. “That too.”

She had to bite back a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned slightly against the desk, glancing at her clipboard. “You actually writing useful stuff, or just pretending to look busy so no one bothers you?”

She huffed. “I don’t pretend to work—I actually do my job.”

He knew this, he just liked to push your buttons.

“Good for you.” He nodded approvingly. “That’s one of us.”

Y/n finally looking up at him. “You’re impossible.”

Hamzah grinned, then tilted his head slightly. “By the way, you've been acting real serious whenever I’m around recently. What’s up with that?”

He was onto her. This wasn't entirely untrue, Y/n had slowly started avoiding Hamzah as her feelings became harder to ignore. This made her feel slightly guilty, but it was the measures she had to take to keep her job.

“Because I have responsibilities?” she shot back while keeping her eyes fixated on the computer in front of her.

He made a face. “Yeah, yeah. Or maybe you just don’t know how to act around me.”

Your eyes finally met his as your mouth opened—then closed. He said it so casually like he was commenting on the weather.

"He's just joking", you told yourself

His dark humourous eyes bore into yours as he patiently waited for a response. Before she could formulate a response, Martin called out, “Yo, Y/n! Can you come over here for a sec!”

Y/n took the escape without hesitation. “Duty calls,” she muttered, turning on her heel.

Hamzah watched her get up before he called after her. “Miss you already!”

As she ignored him, she couldn't help but replay that last comment over and over again in her head.

"Or maybe you just don’t know how to act around me."

She didn’t need to dignify that with a response. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.

---

That evening, you were finishing up an email to a potential sponsor. (There were hundreds of them.) Y/n had just clicked send when Hamzah dropped into the seat next to her.

“So,” he said, resting his elbow on the table. “You avoid me all day just to end up being the last one here. Interesting.”

She groaned. “I did not avoid you.”

“You literally left mid-conversation.”

“Because I had work to do!”

He took a slow sip of his protein shake, eyeing her over the rim. “Uh-huh.”

She scowled. “Not everything is about you, Hamzah.”

“Big talk, considering I’m basically the headliner of this team.”

Y/n let out an exasperated laugh. “You’re insufferable.”

He grinned. “And yet, your working for me.”

She rolled her eyes, focusing on her computer, but Hamzah’s voice cut through again—quieter this time.

“For real, though,” he said, “I mess with you a lot, but you know I actually mean it when I say you’re good at what you do, right?”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. “…Thanks?”

“Don’t get weird about it.” He went back to scrolling on his phone like he hadn’t just said something out of character.

She shook her head, smiling despite herself.

Hamzah might be blunt. He might be insufferable.

But damn it, he was also kind of impossible to ignore.

---

a/n: part two?

#hamzah fic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #slushyvirus #hamzah #slushy virus #fanfic

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zyafics · 2 days ago

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hihihi i love ur fic ‘wildflower by five seconds of summer’ which was a best friends to lovers, I was wondering if you could do a fox where he’s reassuring her that he’s attracted to her and idk. But she basically feels that they were best friends for so long that maybe he’s just dating her for her personality and doesn’t actually want to see her idkkkk but I think you’d be super good at writing this one

omg thank you!! something about bsf!reader gives me so much energy to come up with them so let’s get to it 🤞🏼

REAL OR NOT REAL | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing — BSF!Rafe x Wildflower!Female Reader

Word Count — 1.7K.

Content — fluff, Rafe comforting Reader about her insecurities, happy endings.

You always been aware of Rafe’s type.

There’s a certain degree that sparks Rafe’s interest, and how you slot into his future, but it hadn’t matter to you. Especially since you’re together now, it’s a constant reinforcement that he chose you out of all the girls on his roster. And he’ll keep choosing you because you’re his best friend.

At least, that’s what you like to think.

Your first cloud of doubt came in the form of an engagement.

When Kelce sank to the floor on one knee, holding up a sparkling diamond ring, he didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence before his girlfriend, Aria, leaped into his arms, squealing out a yes!

From there on, the entire restaurant cheers at the vow, and you alongside it, clapping your hands together with the utmost glee. You’re happy for your friend, and his embarkment on this new stage in his relationship. And you rejoiced in that feeling, floating in its bubble, until Topper came over to clap a hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

“How do you feel, man?” Topper asks, looking directly at your boyfriend.

“What do you mean? I didn’t get engaged,” Rafe huffs with a roll of his eyes, and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his bicep. He glances down at you with a soft smile.

“Not that,” Topper scolds, “In general. We always thought it would be you first.”

Your shoulders slouch. “What?” You question, but your voice is soft in the loud atmosphere. They didn’t hear you. Somehow, Kelce manages to enter at the tail-end of the conversation.

“Yeah, Rafe, never thought I’d beat you out,” Kelce laughs.

“You didn’t beat me,” Rafe declares calmly, holding up a glass of whiskey.

“I’m one step ahead of you,” Kelce refutes. “Didn’t you have a whole future planned? The house, the wife, the kids? The whole nine?”

“He’s been saying it since we were teens,” Topper adds. “Changed your mind?”

Rafe shrugs, appearing indifferent, but something cold runs through your veins. He lifts the glass to his lips. “When it happens, it happens.”

“Make it happen soon, alright?” Kelce adds with a grin, just as Aria slides beside him and he wraps a protective arm around her waist. “Because we’re planning a family, and my kids are gonna need your kids to keep them in check.”

“Or the other way around,” Aria comments with a chuckle, and the entire night went on as such. You celebrate among your friends at the restaurant of their engagement, the waitstaff brings out a glorious dessert for the couple, and everyone is in high spirits.

By the time you come home, all that energy disperses, and everything comes flooding back.

You almost forgot. Before Rafe and you got together, he had envisioned a future that didn’t match yours. He wanted a wife and kids, all before the age of thirty. He didn’t want to wait, as he always said before, he wanted it to be young, to start early, just as his father did.

You don’t feel the same. You grew up in a household that abandoned you to your own devices, hollowed out in creaky hallways and subdued by a rotation of maids and servants in and out of your estate. You always knew you wanted kids later, or not at all because you wanted to take time and travel the world.

This doesn’t match Rafe’s.

Yet, it was never brought up. You were so consumed by the bliss of finally having each other, that you neglected the very foundation of what it means to be in a relationship in the first place—to address the conversation of a different yet nearing future you each carved out for yourself.

Doubt begins to lament every inch of your skin as to why Rafe is with you in the first place. He had known this–he’s your best friend—he knows you’re different from what he wants and he still pursues it? Was it for fun? Was it to pass the time until he found someone more compatible to match his needs? Perhaps, even a chance, Rafe was so used to having you at his side that it was easier to seduce you into the most natural next-step role. He didn’t actually like you, your brain argued, he got with you out of pure convenience.

So, you start distancing yourself. Every invitation to spend with the newlyweds was declined, and every inquiry to come over to your house was subsequently ignored. It got to the point where, a week in, Rafe finally had enough and came into your house unannounced.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Rafe demands upon entering your room, his eyes sliding across the place to find the messiness of your sanction, pillows, and blankets thrown to different corners. Almost ditch-like, as if you hadn’t had the chance to leave—in fear of encountering him.

“What?” You ask meekly, shoulders slouching inwards, making yourself small.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he declares accusingly.

“Not true,” you argue.

He glares. “Don’t lie to me.”

You hesitate, digging your nails into the sheets and playing with the covers of your bed. “I just need some time for myself; to think,” “About what?”

You inhale sharply, trying to fizzle out your nerves. All your thoughts and rumbustious questions lead to this final end. This is it.

“I think we could break up.”

For the first time since Rafe’s entry, he’s taken aback by your statement. He unconsciously takes a step backward, brows drawn together, throat tightening. “What?” He replies, his voice low.

Now or never.

“I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days, and I think it’s the best option,” you reason, trying to appear as if this comes from a place of logic rather than insecurities. “For our future.”

“Our future?” He repeats, testing the words on his tongue.

“We’re not compatible,” you continue, the confession slicing at your chest. Tightening your skin. “I want certain things, and you want different things. Honestly, I don’t even know why you liked me in the first place. We were better off as—”

“Slow down,” Rafe cuts you off. You’re going so frantic, trying to streamline a sense of continual thought, that he thought you were going into a panic attack. Rafe lowers himself to your level, taking a precarious step forward and encroaching on your bed. “What do you mean?”

“We should break up.”

“No,”

“Rafe,” you pout, eyes softening, trying to let him go the gentlest way possible. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“You’re being unreasonable,”

“I’m being logical,” you argue.

He scoffs. “Logical? You’re breaking up over a problem that doesn’t exist. Incompatible? Really? You had a whole week to come up with an excuse and that’s what you settle on?”

Your shoulders sink. You play with the frayed threads of your comforter, and the mattress dips to accommodate his weight. His hand hovers over yours, halting your nervous antics and forcing your gaze back onto his.

“What happened?” Rafe asks gently.

“I can’t give you what you want,” you murmur with a cry, pathetically feeling like you’re close to tears.

“Okay,” he cautions slowly. “What do I want?”

“Not me,” you insist weepingly, “I don’t want kids, or to be a housewife. Being in your life, I ruin your plans.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, cradling your face. “I don’t care about that.”

Your heart beams with hope, before being smothered by the reminder that this is a trick to ease your thoughts. “You don’t want kids?”

“Of course, I want them,” your chest tightens. “But I want them with you when you’re ready.”

He adds. “I was serious that night,” he reminds you of that first night when you two became an item. “It’s you or nothing.”

You remain quiet.

“What else? Hit me.”

“I’m afraid,” you confess quietly.

“Of what?”

“That you don’t really like me. I think you’re with me because it’s the easiest thing, or perhaps you don’t want to let me down or—”

“Calm down, wildflower,” he breaths out, dropping his hand to your chest, forcing your intake to steady. They do, calming under his palm. “How about I tell you what I feel instead of you making assumptions?”

He’s right. That’s logical. As you nod, composing your words, you slowly draw a steady breath. “Do you want a housewife?”

“I do,” he answers honestly. “But I only want you.”

“And if I don’t?” You ask. “I don’t want to be one?”

“Then you won’t, simple as that.”

Your eyes pan across his handsome face, trying to uncover any mistruths, but you find none. It settles something in you, and you reveal your next step of doubts.

“You said you wanted to settle down before your 30s,” you remind him.

“That was before I knew this,” he gestures between you, “had a chance.”

“So you change your plans for me?”

“You’re my future,”

You swallow hard. “And if I don’t want to? Not just settling down—but I want to travel the world, and experience adventure, what do you say?”

He comes forward, cupping your chin and forcing your gaze on his. “I say do whatever the hell you want, as long as it’s with me.”

You brush your hands against his jaw, stopping your questions, before having one more on the tip of your tongue. Rafe nods encouragingly, “Anything else?”

You hesitate, and Rafe’s hand slides up your neck, finding that sensitive spot, and cradles it under his palm. “Ask the last one.”

Exhaling, you ask, “Do you like me?”

“Baby, you’re the love of my fucking life. I don’t think there’s anyone I like more than you.”

A blanket of comfort wraps around you, your heart softens, expression relaxes. Your brows pinch together, and they look up at him with utmost guilt. “I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“Don’t be,” he leans forward to press a kiss against your forehead. “You needed that. But I’m here to remind you—I want you. I chose you. The only way someone’s leaving this relationship is through death.”

You laugh softly, tears crowding your vision. “Is that a threat?”

“I think it’s a vow,” he murmurs, closer between you and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “In sickness and in health, or whatever.”

Your hands run through his hair, pulling him closer, “How about let’s stay in bed and figure out the rest later?”

His hand catches the mattress, and his body presses against yours, forcing you onto your back as he covers you. And he kisses you again. And again. Until you’re out of breath. “I like the sound of that.”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

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aajjks · 17 hours ago

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The Proposal (m)

synopsis. A proposal supposed to be the best moment in a girl’s life but when you don’t have a choice, but to say yes, it doesn’t really feel good.

pairing. yandere boyfriend jungkook x reader

warnings. YÂNDÈRÈ, DÀRK THÈMÈS, 18+, mánípúlàtíón, fórcèfúl, póssèssïvè, únsèttlïng, cóntróllíng, stàlkíng, ánxíèty, thrèàts.

note. Oh my God, I don’t know why I wrote this but it’s been a while since I went a little dark when it comes to writing so I wrote this piece if you like it, please share a feedback and if you don’t like it, oh my God, feel free to block me. I won’t hold it against you. ENJOY BESTIE <3

pic credits to owner, I found it on Pinterest xx

You are feeling watched as you walk.

The streetlights are flickering as you walk down the empty street, the cool night air against your skin, but it feels suffocating.

There’s an uneasy feeling lingering in the pit of your stomach, a sense that something isn’t right.

You’ve been trying to ignore it for days, the way Jungkook has been… different.

He’s always been intense, yes, but lately, it’s like his eyes follow you everywhere, like his touch lingers longer than it should.

You try not to think about it, shaking off the feeling as you take another step.

You’re almost home when you hear the soft sound of footsteps behind you.

Slow, deliberate. Too deliberate.

Your heart skips a beat.

You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. He’s always there, just out of reach, lurking like a shadow that never quite disappears.

You stop walking, but you don’t turn. Not yet.

“I’ve been waiting for you,”

Jungkook’s voice rings out, smooth, almost like a purr, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You turn then, slowly, your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest. He’s standing just a few feet away, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his jacket, but there’s something unsettling about the way he looks at you.

His gaze is not warm, not friendly—

it’s like he’s studying you, taking inventory of your every movement, every breath.

“Jungkook,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, unsure of how to act. “What are you doing here?”

His lips wear a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” he says, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Making sure you’re safe.”

Your boyfriend is definitely not normal.

You nod, trying to brush off the uncomfortable feeling crawling up your spine. “I’m fine.”

“No,” he says softly, “You’re not.”

The words settle over you like a heavy weight, and before you can respond, Jungkook takes a step closer. His presence is overwhelming, and you suddenly feel smaller, cutting off all escape routes.

The distance between you feels like it’s closing in, suffocating you, but you’re frozen in place.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Jungkook’s voice drops an octave, his tone almost affectionate, but there’s an edge to it now.

“You think you can walk around like you’re independent, like you’re free, but you’re not.”

You swallow, trying to calm the sudden panic rising in your chest.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He tilts his head, like he’s considering something. “I think you do,” he says, his voice low, almost amused.

You’re fucking cute, but it’s pissing him off.

“I’ve been very patient with you. I’ve let you have your space, let you pretend you can make your own choices, but that time’s over now.”

The weight of his words presses down on you, suffocating and real. You don’t know where to go, what to say.

His gaze locks onto yours, and it’s not the playful look he used to give you. This is different.

There’s something darker in his eyes, something possessive.

“Jungkook, please,” you start, but your voice is weak, and you immediately regret it.

You don’t want to give him any reason to think you’re afraid, even though your whole body is screaming at you to run. You don’t. You can’t.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re scared,” he murmurs, stepping even closer now. His breath brushes against your face, and it makes you shiver, like you’re standing in a room full of ice.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, you know? About us.”

You try to back away, but your feet won’t move. It’s like an invisible force is keeping you locked in place.

His fingers brush against your cheek, gentle, almost tender, but the look in his eyes tells you that this is not a sweet gesture.

It’s ownership.

Control.

“I’ve been imagining what it would be like,” he continues, voice soft and hypnotic,

“if you were mine. Completely. No more running. No more pretending.”

You take a sharp breath, trying to steady yourself. “I’m not yours,” you say, the words coming out with more force than you feel.

But you see his eyes flash with something that looks like amusement.

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small velvet box, and for a moment, your heart stops.

The fear hits you in waves. You don’t know why, but you know what’s coming.

He opens the box slowly, revealing a ring— a simple silver band that glints under the streetlights.

But fuck… it’s so beautiful, it’s everything. It’s huge..

But… beautiful, yes, though it feels like a chain around your wrist, something that will lock you into place, something that will keep you from ever leaving.

“Marry me,” he says softly, the words coated in something dark.

His gaze doesn’t leave yours, and you suddenly feel like there’s no escape from this, no way to get away from him.

“I… I can’t…” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. Your body trembles, your hands shaking at your sides.

Why do you feel like you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life as soon as these words leave your mouth because his eyes literally darken.

“Don’t fuckin lie,” he says, his voice sharp now, but still that same unsettling calm.

“I know you feel it too. You feel the pull. You feel how it’s always been us.”

You can’t deny it. There’s something in his gaze, something in the way he speaks, that makes you feel like there’s no other option.

That makes you feel like you’ve already given yourself to him without even realizing it.

You don’t know how you let it happen, but you’ve been pulled into his world, a world where your thoughts, your feelings, your freedom.

they’re all his to control.

He steps closer, so close now that you can feel his warmth, smell the faint hint of his cologne.

The ring feels heavy in your mind, like it’s already been placed on your finger.

You can’t escape the thought of it, the weight of his words, his presence. His world has swallowed you whole.

“I’ll never let you go,” he says, his voice gentle again, but there’s an edge to it now, something possessive and unyielding.

“Not ever. You’ll always be mine, no matter how much you try to fight it.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to do.

Jungkook reaches out, and you feel the cold metal of the ring on your finger before you even realize it.

He’s slid it on, smooth and deliberate, like you were always meant to wear it.

“There,” he whispers, as if a weight has been lifted from both of you.

“Now we’re truly together.”

And you realize, then, with a sinking heart, that there’s no running from him.

You’re trapped in his world now.

No matter how you try to break free, he’ll always be there, pulling you back in, because to him,

you’ve never been anything but his.

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hughesbrothersfanpage · 11 hours ago

Text

Stay Home With Me

Jack Hughes x Zegras!Reader

WC: 1.6k

Summary: Jack wants to go golfing with the guys, but you have other plans for him.

Warnings: SMUT! oral (m receiving), dirty talking, brief mention of balls (sorry), F!reader but no use of Y/N, Jack thinks it’s kind of funny that he’s banging his best friend’ sister

A/N: I know I promised a Quinn fluff first and I swear to GOD it’s coming but I’ve been having an AO3 author level bad few weeks and somehow it’s easier to write a bj than anything romantic rn. Also more Hughes!Sister insta edits coming soon!

Jack thinks you’re asleep as he tiptoes around the room getting dressed as quietly as he can. You’re wide awake, though, plotting and scheming to get him to skip golfing with the boys and spend the day in bed with you.

They’ve gone three days in a row now, eighteen holes each time, and you’re dying for some alone time with your boyfriend.

You’re still pretending to sleep when Jack leans over you to press a kiss to your forehead. “Bye, baby,” he whispers.

It’s then you pounce, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down to your chest.

“Oof,” he winces as his arms give out and you trap him.

“Don’t leave,” you whine.

Jack laughs, lifting his face to kiss you softly. “I gotta go babe, the guys are gonna want to leave any minute.”

One of your hands drifts from his back, coming up to gently trace his lips. You’ve got a small pout on your face, and Jack couldn’t possibly find you any more endearing.

“Stay home with me.” Your thumb pulls gently at his bottom lip and Jack feels his resolve begin to crack. He goes to protest, but you’re quick to cut him off. “I will blow you right now if you stay home with me.”

Jack’s mouth falls open. “Right now?” he asks, cheeks burning bright red when his voice cracks from excitement.

“Right now,” you confirm. He pulls himself from you in a flash, nearly running to the door and pulling it open.

“Hey, guys?” he calls out. “I’m not feeling so hot. You go ahead without me today.”

There’s loud laughter from downstairs. “I told you not to eat that sushi in the fridge! It smelled off, man!” Trevor shouts up at him. Jack smirks to himself. If only Trevor knew what he was really up to. Your brother would probably knock his head clean off.

There’s a chorus of ‘goodbyes’ as Jack closes the door. You’re sitting up in bed now, staring at him like you’re going to eat him alive. He can’t wait.

“Take your shirt off, handsome,” you command softly. He ditches his hat and shoes quickly before tugging his shirt up and off. “You’re so pretty, Jack,” you murmur as you stand and make your way to him.

With a hand on his chest you back him up until he hits the wall. You take your time unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, going so slow that Jack feels like he’s losing his mind. You’re even more mean when it comes to his underwear, palming him through his boxers until he’s on the verge of tears. You take pity on him eventually, freeing his dick from his underwear and pressing small kisses around the head.

Jack whines. From base to tip, you trace the vein on the underside of his cock with a flat tongue. His thighs shake with effort, struggling to stand from the feeling of your lips and tongue on arguably the most sensitive part of his body. Jack is a mess of broken moans and muttered curses as you do everything but put it in your mouth.

“Baby,” he whines, well beyond caring how desperate he sounds.

You pull away, replacing your tongue with your hand, stroking him slowly. Your thumb brushes over his leaking tip with every pass, and you revel in the way he shudders.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone for four days, and you’re telling me you can’t handle a little teasing?”

His face burns red at your condescending tone, but his dick twitches in your hand anyway. You rest your face on his thigh, looking up at him with doe eyes as you wait expectantly for his answer. The way you bat your lashes leaves his mind totally blank. All Jack can do is watch slack jawed as you flick your wrist lazily, your grip just loose enough to deny him any real relief.

“I want you to ask nicely, Jack,” you murmur before mouthing at the skin of his hip, leaving a few love bites in your wake.

He whimpers, honest to god whimpers, chewing at his bottom lip. “Please,” Jack croaks.

He cries out when you pull your hand away. “Please, what? Use your words,” you chide.

“Put it in your mouth baby, please,” Jack begs.

You smile up at him. “See? Now was that so hard?”

Any reply he might’ve come up with dies on his lips as you take him into your mouth. He throbs as you swirl your tongue around the head.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he grunts.

You hum as you take him further down your throat, using your hand to make up for what doesn’t fit. One of his shaking hands grips the edge of the doorframe, and the other tangles itself in your hair. He guides your head as you suck him off, grunting softly when you hollow your cheeks.

The feeling of your mouth is dizzying, and you look so pretty on your knees for him that he’s already embarrassingly close. You pull off for a moment to catch your breath.

“You’re incredible,” Jack moans as you stroke his cock.

You smile but don’t answer. Instead, you duck your head and run your tongue over his balls. “Oh, fuck!” Jack yelps. You can only hope that all of the boys are gone, because if even one of them is home, the two of you are fucked. “You are so fucking hot. I don’t deserve you, I-“

You cut off Jack’s rambling by taking him back in your mouth, as deep as you can handle until he hits the back of your throat. His hips thrust involuntarily, and you gag around his cock. You take it like a champ, breathing through your nose and never letting up your pace.

“Fuck,” Jack cries. “You’re so fucking good, I’m so close baby.”

You caress his thighs softly as he nears the edge, putting all your focus toward blowing his mind. His hips stutter, and he cums down your throat with a loud groan. Slowly you pull away and stick out your tongue to show you swallowed.

Jack helps you up from your knees and kisses you gratefully. He tries slipping you some tongue, but you pull away.

“Jack, I have blowjob mouth. I’m gonna brush my teeth, you get back in bed. You’re mine for the rest of the day.”

Jack grins as he nods. “Yes ma’am,” he replies.

He looks so good when you return, sprawled over the bed in just his boxers, hair falling perfectly over his face. You want to devour him all over again.

By the time the guys get back from golfing, you and Jack have fucked in your bed, the shower, and the kitchen.

The kitchen had been a close call. You’d both still been panting, reveling in the afterglow of really good sex, only just pulling your underwear back on when you heard car doors slamming. With a shriek you’d bolted back to your room, stumbling hand in hand up the stairs with Jack who couldn’t stop laughing.

Now you’re laying together in bed, trying to catch your breath, in absolute stitches over almost being caught. When the burning in your lungs subsides, you sigh and snuggle into Jack’s open arms, suddenly exhausted.

“Tired, baby?” he asks, brushing some hair away from your flushed face.

“Mhm,” you mumble, pushing your face into his neck.

His hands slip under your (his) tshirt, rubbing firm circles over your overworked muscles. “We can take a nap,” he says quietly.

“Mmm.”

Jack can tell you’re on the verge of passing out, so he just smiles and continues to massage your back. Your bliss is harshly interrupted when someone bangs on the door.

“What?” Jack yells, annoyed.

You’d forgotten to lock the door, so your brother pokes his head in. Thank god the covers are pulled up, hiding your nearly-naked lower bodies.

“We got lunch. You feeling any better?” Trevor asks.

Jack nods, biting back a smart comment. “Yeah, had a migraine but it’s better now,” he says instead.

“That’s good, man,” Trevor replies. “Well, we got pizza. Come down before it gets cold.” He goes to shut the door, but pauses. “And for the love of god, Jack, put on a shirt.”

Your cheeks burn, hidden in Jack’s neck. You haven’t moved an inch, hoping Trevor assumes you’re asleep and leaves. It works, and you prop yourself up a little as you hear the door click shut.

“For the love of god, Jack, put some pants on too!” you giggle, snapping the waistband of his boxers.

“Hey,” he whines. “I haven’t had pants on all day and you haven’t complained once.”

“I have to put on pants too,” you try to compromise. “No one wants to see the hickeys on my thighs.”

Jack scoffs. “I do!”

You kiss him softly before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Well then you better come with me and eat lunch. After that, I’ll take my pants off and we can have that nap I was promised.”

Jack reaches for the pair of sweatpants he’d left on the floor that morning when getting changed and pulls them up his legs. By the time he gets a shirt on, you’ve slipped back into your pajama pants and one of his old sweatshirts.

“Shit, babe, my legs,” you groan, unsteady on your feet, thighs burning and more than a little sore.

Jack grins, beyond proud of himself. “Keep it together, sexy. Your brother would freak if he knew what we were up to while they were gone.”

You shake your head as you reach for the doorknob. “He still hasn’t forgiven you for the first time he walked in on us. He nearly punched you.”

A small smirk makes its way to his lips. “He did punch me, after. And it was totally worth it.”

#jack hughes #jh86 #zegras!sister #zegras!reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #cole caufield smut #cole caufield imagine #quinn smut coming soon #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you

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gf2bellamy · 17 hours ago

Note

Okay okay so hear me out:

How about an established Spencer x fem!bau!reader where everyone already knows that they’re dating and the bau are at a wedding - maybe it’s for a case, maybe they were invited by a colleague like Anderson or something - and reader accidentally catches the bouquet during the bouquet toss which leads to the bau teasing her and Spencer?

bouquet — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mostly penelope teasing them , established relationship a/n: hi hi ! hope you like this <3 also i loved loved writing this

You didn’t want to be standing there. Honestly, you’d tried to avoid it. But Penelope Garcia had other plans.

The moment the bouquet toss was announced, she’d grabbed your arm with surprising strength and dragged you to the edge of the dance floor, positioning you firmly among the small crowd of women.

You’d protested, of course, but Garcia had just grinned and said, “Oh, honey, you’re not getting out of this. It’s tradition!”

Now, you stood there reluctantly, arms crossed over your chest, as Anderson’s (now) wife, Clarissa, turned her back to the group, bouquet in hand.

You glanced over your shoulder, searching for an escape route, but Garcia was standing behind you, blocking any chance of a quick exit.

Spencer was nearby, standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets. He caught your eye and gave you a small, sympathetic smile, clearly amused.

You shot him a look that said, Help me, but he just shrugged, his grin widening.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough to draw attention from the other women around you.

Spencer chuckled softly. “I think she’s about to throw it,” he said, his tone teasing. “You might want to brace yourself.”

You groaned, turning back just in time to see Clarissa swing the bouquet over her shoulder. The crowd of women around you surged forward, arms outstretched, but you stayed rooted to the spot, hoping the bouquet would sail right past you.

No such luck.

The bouquet seemed to move in slow motion, arcing gracefully through the air before landing squarely in your hands. You stared down at it, stunned.

The crowd erupted into applause, and Garcia’s voice rose above the noise, loud and gleeful. “Oh my god! You caught it!” she squealed, grabbing your arm and practically jumping up and down like she’d just won the lottery. “This is huge! Do you know what this means?!”

You blinked, still holding the bouquet like it was a live grenade. “I… I didn’t even try to catch it,” you said, your voice faint with disbelief.

Spencer, who had been standing a few feet away, now stepped closer, a grin spreading across his face. “Congratulations,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “Looks like you’re next.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, holding the bouquet out toward Garcia. “Here,” you said, your voice firm. “This is for you.”

Garcia shook her head so aggressively it was a miracle her glasses stayed on. “Oh no, no, no,” she said, her tone adamant. “That’s yours. You caught it fair and square. And you know what that means? It means I get to plan your wedding!”

You stared at her, your eyes widening in horror. “Penelope,” you said, your voice rising an octave. “No. Absolutely not.”

But Garcia was already off and running, her imagination clearly in overdrive. “Oh, I’m already picturing it,” she said, her hands gesturing wildly as if she were painting the scene in the air. “A spring wedding, obviously. Outdoor ceremony, maybe by a lake? Or a garden! Oh, and the flowers—we’ll need lots of flowers. Pastel colors, of course. And the dress! Oh, the dress! I’m thinking something elegant but timeless—”

“Penelope!” you interrupted, your voice shrill as you tried to stop her before she could plan the entire event down to the napkin colors.

But it was too late. The rest of the BAU team had started to gather around, drawn by Garcia’s enthusiastic rambling.

Derek was the first to chime in, his trademark smirk firmly in place. “Spring wedding, huh?” he said, his tone teasing. “I like it. But you gotta let me be the best man, Reid. No arguments.”

Rossi, who had been quietly observing the scene, spoke up. “If you’re taking suggestions, I recommend a vineyard. Classy, romantic, and plenty of good wine.”

Spencer, meanwhile, was standing beside you, his cheeks tinged with pink and the tips of his ears turning red.

“Uh…” he said, his voice hesitant as he glanced at you. “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here.”

Garcia waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense!” she said, her tone breezy. “This is the perfect time to start planning. Weddings don’t just happen overnight, you know. There’s venues to book, dresses to try on, cakes to taste—”

“Penelope,” you said again, your voice firm this time. “We are not planning a wedding. I caught a bouquet. That’s it. End of story.”

But Garcia, as always, was undeterred. She just kept right on blabbering, her hands gesturing wildly as she painted a vivid picture of what she deemed the “perfect wedding.”

“Oh, but just imagine it!” she gushed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You two standing under a floral arch, the sun setting behind you, the perfect spring breeze—”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as the rest of the team listened.

Derek was leaning casually against a nearby table, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold, while JJ and Rossi exchanged knowing looks, clearly enjoying the chaos.

You glanced up at Spencer, who was standing beside you, his face red up to the tips of his ears and his neck flushed with embarrassment.

He had a hand on your lower back, his touch warm as he pulled you closer. “Work is going to be so much fun after this,” he mumbled into your ear, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Totally,” you replied, chuckling dryly as you met his eyes. “Can’t wait for the daily reminders.”

Before you could say anything else, Garcia’s voice cut through the air again. “Oh! We need to get you to pose at your wedding like that!” she exclaimed, pointing at the two of you with a dramatic flourish. “So natural, so romantic!”

Both of you stared back at her, your expressions a mix of disbelief and mild horror.

“Okay, I want cake,” you announced abruptly, deciding that the best course of action was to simply remove yourself from the situation.

You turned on your heel, still clutching the bouquet in one hand, and grabbed Spencer’s hand with the other, leading him away from the group.

You plopped down into your seat at your assigned table with a dramatic sigh, setting the bouquet down on the table.

Spencer hooked his foot around the leg of your wooden chair, pulling it closer until your knees were touching.

“Penelope is so enthusiastic,” you sighed loudly, leaning forward in your chair as you looked at him. Your hand reached up almost instinctively, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. “Like, way too enthusiastic.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “She sure is,” he mumbled, his voice fond but tinged with amusement. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before he glanced away, his cheeks tinged with pink.

There was a pause.

Then, almost as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them, Spencer said, “A spring wedding sounds nice.”

He spoke quickly, his voice barely above a whisper, and immediately averted his eyes, as if he were afraid of your reaction.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smile as you stared at him. “Oh, really?” you said, your tone teasing but soft.

Spencer’s eyes flicked back to yours.

“I mean,” he said, his voice hesitant but sincere, “if we’re talking hypothetically… spring is a nice time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. And the flowers… well, they’re already taken care of.” He gestured vaguely to the bouquet on the table, his lips quirking into a small, self-conscious smile.

You laughed and leaned in closer to him. “Hypothetically, huh?” you said, your tone playful. “You’ve really thought this through.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed, and he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve been… planning anything,” he said, his voice quiet. “But if we’re just… talking…”

You smiled, your heart swelling. “Well,” you said, your voice soft, “if we’re just talking… I think a spring wedding sounds lovely.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours again, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice just as quiet. “But let’s not tell Penelope. She’ll have the whole thing planned by Monday.”

Spencer laughed and leaned in closer to you. “Deal,” he said, his tone light and sincere. “But just so you know… I’d be okay with it. If it ever… you know… stopped being hypothetical.”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at his words. “Good to know,” you said, your voice soft.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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cloudcountry · 2 days ago

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SUMMARY: when your favorite member of their house isn't them.

WARNINGS: kaito's gets a little intense!! but its very canon typical. subaru is a little manipulative ngl.

COMMENTS: i am STILL getting used to writing these guys so i am sorry if they are out of character!! please have mercy!!

Jin’s scowl is more sour than usual. He storms up to his room and slams the door shut, jamming his hand in his pocket in search of his cigarettes. The last thing he needs to see right now is you with Tohma, hanging off his arm and making small talk about how lovely the tea smelt and how good he was at chess. Rage twists and burns in his stomach but you’re the last person he wants to take it out on. Even if Tohma will forever hold your affections, he doesn’t want you to think poorly of him. He thinks it would rip him apart.

Tohma isn’t certain what you see in that first year with the silly blonde hair that follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy. Kaito can’t protect you when worse comes to worst, he can’t stand up for you the way Tohma can. He knows it's underhanded, throwing jabs at his poor underclassman, but he can’t help it. Not when it comes to you. Perhaps, one day, you will see how foolish this is and come running into his arms.

Luca respects the captain a lot, and he knows you do too. It doesn’t give him any bad feelings until you see Jin and call him over, your feet dragging you toward the captain and away from him. Luca thinks you may take one, two, maybe three steps away from him, but you walk until Jin meets you and then you turn back to Luca, beaming at him in a way he’s never seen before. Oh, he realizes, you must like Jin quite a bit to have a smile reserved just for him.

Kaito’s one job is to defend your honor, to keep filthy no good men away from you! After all, he’s the only one you should be considering going out with, and any other man couldn’t treat you like he can! So why...why do you look so happy with Luca? What has he done wrong? Is it his cowardice? His lack of money? Was he not calm enough for you? He sees the way you blush when Luca compliments your hair, brushing his fingers over your cheekbone sinfully. It’s not fair, it's not fair! That should be him touching you like that!

Alan thinks his first years have some real potential. He’s glad you’re taking such good care of them, especially Sho. Actually...you seem quite attached to him. Alan briefly wonders if it’s his food truck, and that’s why you’re always eating food with him, but he realizes that that is very much not the case when he catches the two of you smiling and laughing on Vagastrom’s couch. Sho’s arm is slung over your shoulders and you’re leaning into him, smile never faltering. You’ve never looked at him like that.

Sho doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t know why you’re hanging around Leo so much. Of course, he knows he’s only saying this out of petty jealousy, since he’s been friends with Leo since forever, but doesn’t that give him the right to complain at least a little? What does Leo have that he doesn’t? Did you like his followers and fame? He tries his best to grit his teeth and focus on his food, but the sound of your laughter rings constantly in the back of his mind. This sucks.

Leo has never been so emotionally charged in his life. It’s embarrassing honestly, how you cling to Alan and bat your eyelashes at him like he’s actually worth your time. The captain isn’t smart, he isn’t sharp in the slightest and you’re acting like he’s your savior. It makes him want to gag every time he sees you two, your arm linked with his, a dusty blush on his cheeks as you squeeze him closer. Gross, he can’t believe you feel comfortable touching him like that in public. It totally doesn’t bother Leo at all!

Haru knows better than to get in Towa’s way, and frankly, he wouldn’t dare. You two are precious together. Whether you’re dating or not he doesn’t know, but Haru does know that out of everyone in Jabberwock, you are absolutely the closest with Towa. He’s happy to see his friend happy, really! That’s enough for him! He just wishes that you would respond to his texts as fast as you respond to Towa’s...

Towa is alarmed, first and foremost. The interloper? Do you like him? Is it romantic? Is he your soulmate? Oh, no...Dandelion, you can do so much better, he promises! Ren won’t be able to give you half the things Towa can offer you. He isn’t embarrassed to be by your side or shower you in affection or work hard for your sake! He’d do anything for you, and oh does he mean anything.

Ren thinks it’s disgusting. You’re enamored with Haru. He’s caught you two holding hands, quite literally skipping through the meadows with Peekaboo while he sits inside, hunched over his phone. He scoffs, tearing his eyes away from you and your shimmering smile, and tries to kick the sound of your laugh out of his mind. He is, unfortunately, unsuccessful. Ren throws his head back and groans, searching his brain for any reason why anyone would like that boundary breaking clown of a captain. He comes up with nothing. But then again, the list of reasons why you would like him is about the same, is it not?

Taiga isn’t bothered. He’s always unbothered, if you ask him. That’s why when he sees you fawning over Lulu, he doesn’t bat an eye. Yeah, he’s a pretty guy. If anything, you have good taste. He doesn’t want to be treated that way, though, least of all by you, because that would be such a headache and he doesn’t need to deal with you all the time...right. Right. This is how things should be, of course.

Romeo is infuriated. It’s unthinkable that you would choose to admire that bossy first year over him! He calls you into his office time and time again, bringing up meaningless tasks for you to complete and it should be an honor to serve him! However...the second your phone rings you snatch it up with pure glee on your face and excuse yourself, cooing Ritsu! into the receiver with so much affection it makes him sick. Who do you think you are!? Fico is not to be ignored!

Ritsu tries not to feel too upset, watching you with the captain. It’s ridiculous to think that someone who regularly blows off his work and insults him would catch your eye! Of course, he respects the captain...and he needs his signature so he can protect him if a case does arise...but at the end of the day, that has nothing to do with you! Ritsu does not know how to classify his emotions, so he simply stiffles them, having no need for soft squishy feelings. He needs to be sound and logical at all times, lest bias take him by storm.

Subaru’s heart aches. When did you start getting along so well with Zenji? When did he become your favorite person? Subaru thought you two were getting really close after he told you what his stigma was, and he was so happy to have someone who didn’t care about any of it. He was elated to have someone who wanted to be his friend, but ever since you’ve started to see Zenji that’s been taken away from him. He doesn’t like the stabs of jealousy that pierce his heart, it makes him feel evil, so won’t you come back and fix things if he looks at you with all the heartbreak he can muster? Won’t you come back to him?

Haku doesn’t mind, honestly. Sure, he might make a few comments about you and Subaru being close, and if you were perspective enough you could definitely pick up a bit of sadness from his words, but he’ll never be upfront about it. He’ll still tease you, flirt with you, say suggestive things just to get you wound up, but it’s not the same anymore. Not when you find your home at Subaru’s side, leaning into his during assemblies, leaving Haku’s side cold and empty.

Zenji thinks it’s beautiful, watching love bloom between you and Haku. It’s a new source of inspiration for him! You, and your beautiful eyes, your soft smiles, your bright laughter, and before he knows it his inspiration is only you. He feels guilty, confessing to Haku that he is finding so much creativity in you, and Haku is so easy and patient and kind to him. Zenji doesn’t think Haku gets it, but maybe he does. Maybe he does, and isn’t bringing it up for a reason. And so Zenji aches, showering you in compliments tenfold, being unable to hold all of his affection inside lest he burst.

Edward agrees that Rui is very helpful. You seem to praise him a lot, and such praise is deserved, even if Edward likes to act like he doesn’t recognize what Rui does around the dorm. It’s Rui who resets his YouTube password and fixes the WiFi when it’s down. It’s Rui who cleans up his room and makes those delicious drinks. And apparently, as you have been so kind to divulge to him, Rui is also very sweet to you, always giving you compliments and making you special drinks to suit your exact preferences. It’s interesting. Very interesting.

Rui playfully winces every time you shoot him down, saying that you’re spending time with Lyca today or that you’re eating lunch with Lyca or that Lyca invited you to go for a walk with him. Rui, to his credit, bites his tongue when you turn on your heel and leave him standing there. He loves the thrill of the chase, the allure of someone who plays hard to get, but he knows that isn’t what you are. You’re someone with romantic feelings for a guy that isn’t him.

Lyca is concerned, to say the least. Edward isn’t the type of man you should be hanging around! He’s old and dusty and a total flirt, which makes him all the more filthy in Lyca’s eyes. No, don’t hang off his every word with that smile of yours! Don’t praise him for being brave! Don’t help him to bed when he starts to cough, he’s faking it! Ugh, why don’t you ever listen to him anymore...? Lately that moth-eaten Casanova has been taking up all of your time, and Lyca really doesn’t like it...

Yuri’s brow is wrinkled with frustration that, for once, does not come from working his ass off for days on end. It comes from you, chattering away with Jiro and praising him for his accomplishments. It makes an ugly monster in Yuri’s stomach twist and he knows it’s jealousy, knows it’s bad for him and his research. He slams his hands on the table and commands that you leave in a fit of anger. You look startled, then upset, then you yell something back before storming from the room. He slumps down in his chair, head in his hand, and fights back the tears that follow.

Jiro doesn’t mind, honestly. He’s just there to help Yuri out wherever he can. It makes sense that you adore Yuri so much, he is really smart, just like you say. You tell him he’s pretty and Jiro watches Yuri fumble, cheeks turning pink. It makes Jiro smile, seeing Yuri so happy, even if he doesn’t quite understand why a small part of him feels upset. Maybe you should call him pretty too, and then that feeling will go away.

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mylovesstuffs · 2 days ago

Note

Hello can you do a svt headcanon: ways to win their hearts/ to approach them?pls

Thanks🤍🤍

How to Win SEVENTEEN’s Hearts & Approach Them

A/N: Oh this took a very very very long time! Don’t ask me why I wrote this as if I personally know them or pulled them in all 13 of my (nonexistent) past lives...but we run anyway.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol – Be someone he can lean on

Even though he’s SEVENTEEN’s leader, he needs someone who sees him as Choi Seungcheol first.

He falls for someone who genuinely cares about his well-being—someone who notices when he’s overworking and tells him to rest.

If you approach him, be confident but gentle. He’s used to taking care of others, so if you show him that you can take care of him, he’ll fr melt.

Jeonghan – Be playful & challenge him

He loves someone who’s clever, witty, and a little mischievous—someone who can keep up with his teasing and match his freak.

If you approach him, flirt subtly and play along with his jokes. If he teases you and you tease him right back, he’ll be intrigued.

But beyond the fun, he falls for someone genuine and caring. If you show him that you truly understand and accept him, he’ll be hooked.

Joshua – Be kind & make deep connections

He falls for someone soft-spoken but strong-willed—someone who is kind to others but also knows what they want in life. (so not me)

He loves deep conversations, so if you approach him, talk about your passions, dreams, or even random philosophical thoughts.

Show him that you have a kind heart, and he’ll naturally be drawn to you.

Jun – Be unpredictable & full of life

Jun loves people who are bright, adventurous, and full of surprises. If you have a playful, curious nature, he’ll adore you.

If you approach him, be direct but lighthearted—something like “I don’t know why, but I feel like you’d be fun to hang out with. Prove me right?”

He doesn’t fall for people easily but if you’re genuine, warm, and a little quirky, he won’t be able to resist.

Hoshi – Match his freak & support his dreams

If you’re passionate about something (anything—dancing, painting, writing, sports, tigers), he’ll find you fascinating.

He loves someone who isn’t afraid to be silly, so if you approach him, match his freak and be playful.

Support his horanghi agenda unconditionally.

Most importantly, be his biggest cheerleader. If he sees that you believe in him, he’ll fall for you faster than light itself.

Wonwoo – Be patient & understand his quiet side

He falls for intellectual, introspective people—someone who enjoys deep conversations but also values comfortable silence.

If you approach him, don’t rush him. Start with small conversations, maybe about books, movies, or something interesting you noticed.

He loves someone who makes him feel safe. If he sees that you understand his nature and respect his space, he’ll open up to you eventually.

Woozi – Respect his work & show your sincerity

He doesn’t fall easily, but when he does, it’s for someone who respects his dedication to music and supports his dreams.

If you approach him, be genuine and direct—he doesn’t like mind games or people who beat around the bush.

Show that you appreciate him not just as an artist but as a person, and he’ll start seeing you in a different light.

Dokyeom – Make him laugh & appreciate his sincerity

He’s naturally drawn to bright, optimistic people—someone who laughs easily and enjoys the little things in life.

If you approach him, just be yourself. He loves people who are genuine and who don’t pretend to be someone they’re not.

He falls for someone who sees the good in him and makes him feel special just for being himself.

Mingyu – Be fun, supportive & make him feel needed

He loves people who make him feel special—someone who hypes him up but also keeps him grounded.

If you approach him, be warm and a little playful, maybe joke about his clumsiness or casually compliment him.

He falls for someone who makes him feel at home. If you’re the type to comfort him when he’s down and celebrate with him when he’s happy, he’s yours.

Minghao – Be artistic, open-minded & a lil mysterious

He’s drawn to people who have a strong sense of self—someone who is passionate, cultured, and a bit philosophical. (so not me (2))

If you approach him, talk about something meaningful, maybe art, music, travel, or even your personal growth journey.

He also loves a little mystery. If you don’t reveal everything about yourself right away, he’ll want to figure you out for sure.

Seungkwan – Be confident, witty & have a soft side

He’s drawn to confident people who can match his humor. If you can tease him and handle his energy, he’ll be intrigued.

If you approach him, start with a fun, lighthearted conversation. Maybe jokingly challenge him to something (“I bet I can beat you at karaoke”).

But he also falls for people who appreciate his sensitive side. If you show him that you care about his deeper emotions, he’ll start seeing you differently.

Vernon – Be chill, unique & have your own vibe

He doesn’t fall for flashy or overly aggressive people. He likes calm, unique individuals who have their own style.

If you approach him, just be casual. Talk about something random but interesting (“Hey, what’s the weirdest song/movie you’ve ever heard/watched?”).

He loves people who make him feel comfortable. If you don’t force conversation and just let things flow naturally, he’ll warm up to you.

Dino – Admire his hard work & bring out his playful side

He falls for people who respect his passion for performing and recognize how much effort he puts into his work.

If you approach him, be confident but a little shy—he finds it cute when someone is nervous but still tries.

He loves someone who can balance fun and seriousness. If you can hype him up when he’s excited but also comfort him when he’s stressed, he’ll be completely smitten.

★ Final Tips for Winning Their Hearts

Be genuine – They all appreciate honesty and sincerity.

Respect their passions – They love what they do and if you show appreciation for their hard work, they’ll notice.

Match their freak – Some members are freaky, some are chill—find what works best for them.

Be confident but not overbearing – Approach them naturally, and let things flow at their pace.

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shyoko · 3 days ago

Text

★ ENHYPEN Jealous ★

Note: This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.)

¡Heeseung☆!

Heeseung was running back and forth across the court, his shirt slightly damp with sweat as he played an intense one-on-one against his older brother. You sat nearby, watching with a smile, cheering them on.

But soon, you noticed something unusual, every time his brother scored a basket or pulled off an impressive move, he would wink at you.

At first, you brushed it off, thinking it was nothing. But then you caught the way Heeseung’s brows furrowed, his lips pressing together in a tight line. That’s when you realized, his brother was doing it on purpose, just to mess with him.

Heeseung lost focus for a split second, missing an easy shot. He turned to you immediately, his eyes narrowing. "What are you laughing at?" he asked, irritation laced in his voice.

"Nothing," you said, trying—failing—to hold back your laughter. But his brother, clearly enjoying the situation, wasn’t about to let it slide.

"Relax, we’re just having some fun, right?" his brother teased, shooting you another wink.

That was it. Heeseung let the ball drop and walked straight toward you, stopping right in front of where you sat. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, a mix of jealousy and challenge burning in his eyes.

"Seriously? You’re just going to sit there and let him do that?"

"It’s just a joke, Heeseung. Don’t be like that," you said, trying to calm him down while his brother laughed from the court.

"It’s not funny," he muttered before turning to his brother. "How about instead of trying to be funny, you actually try to beat me?"

But before stepping back onto the court, he turned to you one last time, leaning in even closer. His voice dropped to a soft murmur.

"And you, stop enjoying it so much," he said, brushing his lips against yours in a quick but unmistakably possessive kiss.

It was brief, but enough to make his brother burst into laughter.

A slight blush crept onto Heeseung’s cheeks as he walked back onto the court, now more determined than ever, to prove, both on and off the court, that he was the best.

¡Jay☆!

It was a quiet night, and you had made simple plans, just a casual movie night with a friend. Nothing special, just a way to relax after a tough week.

But when you mentioned your plans to Jay, his reaction made you pause.

"You’re going to watch a movie with him?" he asked. His voice was calm, but his eyes told a different story, a flicker of jealousy he couldn’t quite hide.

"Yeah, it’s just a quick movie," you replied, trying to play it down. "Nothing more than that."

But Jay didn’t look convinced. He crossed his arms, his gaze holding something between distrust and… something else.

"Are you sure that’s all it is? I just don’t want you to get confused."

His words carried a hint of vulnerability, something he rarely let show.

"Jay, it’s just a movie. That’s all," you reassured him.

He stepped closer, not quite meeting your gaze. "I don’t know… It just bothers me that you’re so close to him. It makes me feel weird."

You softened, realizing this was his way—his slightly awkward way—of showing jealousy.

"Hey," you said gently, taking his hand in yours. "You have nothing to worry about. My place is with you."

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you, his posture still tense. But after a few seconds, his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Alright," he finally murmured. "I just don’t want you to forget about me."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "That would never happen."

Jay let out a quiet sigh, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit, as if to remind himself that everything was okay.

¡Jake☆!

It was a peaceful afternoon, perfect for a walk around the neighborhood. As you passed by your neighbor’s house, you spotted him outside with his dog, a playful Labrador you had always adored.

You stopped to pet him, smiling as the dog wagged his tail happily. That’s when your neighbor approached, clearly using the dog as an excuse to strike up a conversation.

"You really like him, huh? He always manages to make you smile," your neighbor said, flashing a persistent grin.

As you chatted, you became aware of a presence behind you. Turning slightly, you saw Jake standing a few steps away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable, but his frown made one thing clear. He wasn’t happy.

Quickly, you wrapped up the conversation and made your way over to him. "Everything okay?" you asked, already suspecting the answer.

Jake didn’t respond right away, his gaze flickering back toward your neighbor before settling on you. When he finally spoke, his voice was tighter than usual.

"Yeah… I just don’t like how your ‘friend’ gets so close."

You held back a laugh, finally understanding what was going on. "Jake, it’s just a dog. He’s only using it as an excuse to talk to me, nothing more."

He met your eyes, his expression still skeptical. "I know, but it annoys me how… focused he is on you."

Smiling, you took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You have my attention, only you," you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jake let out a breath, his tense shoulders finally relaxing. "I don’t want to compete with a dog," he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips.

"And you won’t," you teased, intertwining your fingers with his as the two of you walked away together.

¡Sunghoon☆!

Sunghoon stood at the edge of the ice rink, adjusting his gloves with quick, precise movements, his eyes never leaving the guy who was helping you keep your balance. His gaze darkened the moment you lost your footing and that stranger caught you by the waist. Something ignited in Sunghoon’s chest.

Without a word, he stepped onto the ice, moving with the effortless grace only he possessed. His skates cut smoothly through the rink as he made his way toward you. When he reached you, he gently took your hand, pulling you away from the guy with a polite yet unmistakably tense smile.

"Thanks for helping her, but I think I can take over now," he said, his tone courteous, though there was an unspoken finality in his words, it wasn’t a suggestion.

Guiding you toward the center of the rink, his hands found your waist, steady and sure as he helped you glide. Every time you stumbled, he was there, catching you before you could fall. But even as he focused on you, his eyes flickered back to the guy every now and then, making sure he wasn’t planning on coming any closer.

"You don’t need anyone else to learn. I’m here, okay?" he murmured softly, leaning in just enough for you to catch the seriousness in his eyes.

You tried to ease his jealousy with a smile, but he still seemed slightly on edge, as if he was in an invisible competition. Slowly, as you continued skating together, his frown softened, but not before he threw one last pointed glance at the guy, silently making it clear that you were with him, and no one else would be taking his place.

¡Sunoo☆!

Sunoo sat beside you, casually watching as you chatted with a group of friends. Everything was going fine, until you offhandedly turned to one of them and said, "Aw, you’re so cute!"

Sunoo’s smile vanished instantly. His expression shifted from relaxed to slightly taken aback, his eyes scanning your face for an explanation. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, a tiny frown forming on his lips.

The conversation carried on, but the moment he found a chance, Sunoo leaned in and whispered, "Cute? Really?"

You blinked, confused. "What’s wrong? I just said he was cute," you replied with a small smile, not understanding his sudden change in mood.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, lowering his voice but making sure you heard every word. "I’m not usually jealous, but… why are you calling someone else cute? I thought I was the only one with that title."

His pout made it impossible to take him too seriously, and you bit back a laugh. "Sunoo, it’s not that deep. It’s just a word."

"Well, I don’t like it," he huffed, tilting his head dramatically. "I’m the cutest one, right? Say it now."

Amused, you cupped his cheek gently. "You’re right. No one is cuter than you, Sunoo."

That seemed to satisfy him, and his lips curled into a proud smile. Still, before fully relaxing, he shot a quick glance at the guy, as if silently making sure he also understood that no one could compete with him.

¡Jungwon☆!

Jungwon stood beside you, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers as he watched your friend pull a small box from his pocket. With a relaxed smile, your friend opened it to reveal a delicate bracelet.

"Look," he said excitedly, showing it to you. "It matches mine, I thought you’d like it."

Jungwon’s smile froze. His gaze locked onto the bracelet as you thanked your friend, clearly delighted by the thoughtful gift. He didn’t say anything at first, but the slight downturn of his lips gave him away.

"What a nice gesture," he finally said, his tone polite but laced with an edge of something else. Taking a step closer, he reached for your hand, inspecting the bracelet more closely. "Is it silver? Hm… it’s nice. A little simple, though."

Your friend laughed, oblivious to the shift in mood, before stepping away to check his phone. The moment he was out of earshot, Jungwon leaned in.

"Matching with him?" he asked, keeping his voice casual, though the hint of jealousy in his eyes said otherwise. "Since when do you do things like that with your friends?"

"It’s just a bracelet, Jungwon," you reassured him, squeezing his hand. "He’s been my friend forever, it doesn’t mean anything."

"Well, it should," he murmured, his lips forming a small pout as he held your hand against his chest. "The only matching set you should have is with me. How about we make our own bracelets? That way, there’s no doubt that I’m your favorite."

Though he tried to keep a straight face, a small smile tugged at his lips. More than anything, he just wanted to make sure everyone, especially you, knew exactly where he stood in your life.

¡Ni-ki☆!

You and Ni-ki were lounging on the couch, both occupied with your phones, enjoying a quiet moment together. Everything was peaceful, until a notification popped up on your screen.

Curious, you opened it, only to find an unexpected message: "Hey, beautiful. What are you doing tonight?"

Your relaxed expression shifted instantly, turning into one of mild annoyance. Without realizing it, you let out a small sigh, just enough for Ni-ki to notice.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, glancing at you. Then, before you could even think of hiding your screen, he leaned in closer.

"Ni-ki, it’s nothing," you started, instinctively tilting your phone away. But he was quicker.

"‘Hey, beautiful’? Seriously?" he read aloud, his eyes narrowing slightly. His lips curled into a sharp smile, like the message had just given him an excuse to stir things up. "Who does he think he is?"

"Just some guy," you said, trying to brush it off. "But it doesn’t matter."

"It doesn’t matter who he is," Ni-ki shot back, his tone laced with playful jealousy. Without hesitation, he started typing.

"Ni-ki" you began, but it was too late.

"Hey," he typed. "I’m her boyfriend, Ni-ki. Maybe you should find someone else to waste your time on because she’s already more than taken."

After hitting send, he handed your phone back to you, looking completely satisfied. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the couch with an air of triumph.

"You didn’t have to reply," you said, though a part of you secretly appreciated his protectiveness.

"Of course I did," he replied confidently, flashing you a smirk. "I’m not letting some random guy think he has a chance. Flirting with you is my job."

#enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen #heeseung #jay #jake #sunoo #sunghoon #jungwon #ni ki #kpop #kpop reactions

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jensthwa · 2 days ago

Text

mountebank chem: epilogue (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x afab!rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 7.08k

WARNINGS & TAGS: attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both yunho's and reader's), use of fem pronouns for reader, the morning after and the day after that. reader and yunho are very in love is lowkey kind of gross everyone, kissing, fluff, dream-talk, yeosang talk too! a little bit of angst if you squint, decision making and finally standing up for yourself is hard and reader is doing their best, soohyun being a good brother and making reader cry, gyuri being a little shit, wooyoung being a little shit, seonghwa being a good friend, happy endings let's goooo.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's the epilogue i promised! like i've said in a few asks that i've gotten, there's a little bit of the next story here, just something so you all have context of it before going in. i don't know when that one is going to be up (i'm not really far along with it) but either way i want to thank all of you for the patience and the wait! i really loved writing mbc:'). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: february 20th 2025.

taglist: @kyunlov, @tinyelfperson, @0115degrees, @daniela-f-uwu, @ultrapinkvoidbouquet, @kyeomooniee, @fairylover68, @sushiinmidnight, @qveenbunni, @calmoistorm, @potatomountain, @svintsandghosts, @lemonkait00, @blue5ummer, @fancypeacepersona, @hyukssunflower, @i-love-ateez, @alsomimi, @e3ellie, @st3ft0n3s, @hotteokkay, @xylatox, @honeybeehorizon, @hwallazia, @mady-66.

masterlist - part one - part two. part three. part four.

When Yunho wakes up, rested and naked, the room is dark.

He turns to the side and the curtains are, of course, down but the thing is that he doesn’t remember closing them the night before.

When he turns to where you’re supposed to be, the bed is made on your side and you’re not there.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t panic. He is sure of what you both have, he trusts you enough to know you didn’t run away from him, from you two, again.

Also, he can smell a mix of coffee and the turpentine-like smell of paint as he gets dressed with his boxers and the slacks he was wearing the night before after picking them up off the floor and going to the bathroom to wash his face.

He pokes his face out to the living space and there’s a make-shift tarp on the floor, the furniture is moved around to make space for you and an easel. You’re sitting down on a wooden stool, painting away and he wonders if he just missed that last night or if he genuinely just passed out and didn't notice this much change.

He clears his throat “Good morning, princess.”

You jump a little, turning your head to look at him and there’s paint on your face and your hand when you wave at him.

“Hi, Jeong.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

He chuckles “No cute nickname? Just Jeong?”

“Well, that is your name, isn’t it?” You turn back and he catches that you’re pretending to focus on your painting, but you’re repassing the same painstrokes as before.

“We’re going to have to work on it,” he lets out a sigh that turns into a yawn. “Sorry that I slept in on you. What time is it?”

“Around three.”

“In the afternoon?!” Yunho looks around for his phone but he locates the clock in the wall first and he confirms your words. “Princess, why didn’t you wake me up? We could’ve spent the day together…”

“I rather you rest,” you shrug and he takes a few steps until he’s behind you, his hands immediately reaching out to touch you. He can’t help it, he wants to physically fuse into you but he compromises with nature and just massages your shoulders. “You have sectionals in two weeks, right?”

He frowns at the reminder, a tiny smile on his lips a second later.

“How do you know that?”

You stop the brush on the canvas and then look at him again, eyelashes batting with fake innocence.

“I kind of bribed my assistant so she could bribe yours and now your general schedule is on my phone…”

He fakes a gasp and he marvels in the pout he gets in return.

“I needed to know when you were leaving the dorm this week!”

“So you could drop the gift?”

“Mhm,” you say, puckering your lips to ask for a kiss. He pretends to go for it and he truly pats his back for having a little of self-restraint when he dodges you to pretend he just thought about something.

“Oh! That reminds me…”

You huff in annoyance and interrupt whatever he’s about to say.

“How did you know my room number and who let you in?”

“I paid the receptionist and showed him proof that we were together,” he explains like it’s nothing and you huff again, amused this time. “Told him I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s so irresponsible.”

Yunho reaches the box he left on the coffee table last night, opens it and pulls the polaroids out.

“You dropped this off without any explanation! What are these?”

When he turns around, you’re already painting again and he gets a five second look in his direction before you return your attention to your art.

“Oh.” there’s a smile on your lips Yunho loves, although he’s not sure if it’s because you’re doing what you love or if you got reminded of something. “I was hoping you asked me about it. I, um, stayed at a resort during New Years, in Gangwondo.”

“Is this the first time we spent Chrismtas and New Years away from each other?”

“Not the first time,” you muse and then shrug, “but definitely the first time in a long time, huh?”

“I didn't like it.”

“Why?” You look at him again and he sits on his knees on the couch like a neglected child, looking your way. You seem to find it endearing, because you laugh. “Because you didn't have anyone to kick under the table this year?”

“That has never happened.”

“Liar. Anyway, they have this winter festival that goes all the way until mid January and they have this… Traditional and modern fusion media dance performance that made me think of you. So I took some pictures of the dancers.”

“So you just put them in the box because you took them while thinking of me?”

There’s shyness painting your tone when you reply “Yeah.”

His heart thumps happily inside his chest and he gets off the couch.

“I love you.”

You laugh again “I love you too, Yunho,” and, as you shake your head a little, you look in the kitchenette direction with your lips pointed at it. “I ordered some breakfast that you can heat up or you can give me… Twenty minutes and I can change and we can—”

Yunho revels in the squeak of surprise you let out when he closes the distance, leans in and catches your lips in a short but firm kiss.

“We can stay in all day if you want to.” He says and you kiss his lips one more time.

“Okay,” you seem happy to have that option so he sees the moment you make the decision to not push going out at all. “There’s some clothes for you in the walk-in closet. I ordered them when I ordered all of this,” you point at the mess on the tarp and the floor, “I figured you might need them.”

“Thank you, my love.” He whispers and he pecks your lips before reaching for your nearly empty coffee cup.

“There’s also one for you in the—”

“I want this one,” he says, a sly smile on his lips and one of his hands returns to your shoulders to massage them.

He takes a look at the canvas for once and he notices that, what he thought was a solid background color and some structure, has actually started to look like the view in front of you both, with the Namsan Tower in the back.

“What about the CD?”

“Hm?”

“Your gift,” he reminds you, “there’s also a CD.”

“A mixtape, with songs that make me think of us.”

Yunho blows some air and he doesn’t have to look down to see you’re frowning at the sound “You’re a romantic.”

“Do you want to die?”

He laughs but doesn’t address the threat at all. Instead, the focus is on your art “The painting of us and the kids is beautiful,” he can feel your skin under his palm heat up at the compliment and it makes him smile. “This one is too.”

“It all just flows so much smoothly when I don’t have to think about work or being home,” you admit, your body relaxing into his when he takes a sip of the cup and brings it around for you to do the same. “I want to stay here, with you, forever.”

“And we can,” he murmurs into your head, leaving a kiss on your temple a second later. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want to move out,” you say, your tone full of wishfulness and Yunho takes in a breath at what that could mean for you, “I want to quit my job.”

“And what do you want to do for work, then?” He asks, already supporting the decision. “You want to paint?”

You shake your head, looking up at him, a wishful glint in your eye “I want to be an art teacher.”

“Oh?”

“Do you want to work for your father?”

“Not in a million years, I— Princess, don’t get mad for what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

You turn in the stool, looking up at him with an inquisitorial brow until he crouches down on the floor to meet your eye.

“My plan has always been to pretend to work and go along with him until I graduate college. Then, I want to move away. I want to… I don’t know, get disowned?”

Eyes widening, you take in a sharp breath and then cough into your hand.

He offers you the cup so you can take the final sip out of it.

“It’s part of why I went along with the PR relationship in the first place.”

You nod and he gulps, staring as you get lost in thought for a second.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I sort of planned to use you?”

“Not really, though. You wanted to use the relationship they threw us into?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s understandable, then. I… I understand.” This time, you’re the one gulping and he opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. “I, um, I’m not sure if I actually can go against my parents wishes and never see my brother again, Yun.”

He shakes his head. “If you think for a second that Soohyun is going to give a fuck about your parents feelings, you’re wrong. I… Me and Gunho are not as close as I want us to be, you know? But we talk about things.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes,” his laugh lasts a few seconds only and then he clears his throat. “If there’s something I'm sure of, princess, is that your brother loves you with all his heart. If you want to step away from the family business, from your parents, he… He’ll understand.”

You nod again.

“And I’m not saying any of this because I want you to do the same things I want to do but I—”

You interrupt him “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to work as an engineer?”

“Yes,” he breathes out and you smile, “but I also want to dance. Have an academy, maybe, but I need money and experience and a name.”

“You already have a name.”

“I need to make a name for myself, princess,” he explains and you nod like you already knew, because you probably did. “Get a stage name, maybe.”

“Ha!” you laugh and he raises his eyebrows, amused by your reaction. “Maybe… Yunho the rakehell? Yunho… Oh! Yunho the bitchl—”

“Stop that!”

It seems like that joke is never to die down and he’s glad, he’s glad that he doesn’t take genuine offense in it anymore and he’s glad it makes you laugh in a way he wants to record and play on repeat forever.

Grabbing his face, your thumbs brush against his cheeks and he can swear he has never felt so at ease until now. This, waking up and going out of the room to find you doing what you love. You, looking at him with some much love, it's hard to believe it took you both so long to leave your pride behind and work it out.

“You are worth it, Yunho,” you whisper and he knows right away you’re referring to the fight you both had at the office, “and I have no idea how we’re going to make it, but we are. Of that I’m sure, my love. I trust you,” you brush his hair back and off his forehead, “I trust us.”

He holds your face as well, the pad of his finger passing over the dry paint on your cheek.

“I trust us, too.”

Before he can react, you’re smooching his lips again and he melts into the encounter, the passion of last night bleeding into his movements once again and painting him red when he gets on his knees and pulls you into his lap in a smooth motion. You yelp and laugh and then you moan into his mouth when his hands find your ass and his fingers dig into it through the jeans you’re wearing.

Huh.

You’re wearing jeans.

They look so natural and good on you that he didn’t even notice it’s the first time he seeing you in jeans.

“Again?” You ask, already winded and clinging onto him for dear life in a way that makes him laugh. He pulls back and finds you shyly smiling at him but it doesn’t really help your care that he can see right through the act.

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Y/N…”

“It was a joke,” you grab his shoulders to shake him to no avail and then before getting up you lean in to kiss his cheek in a manner so sweet that makes him all giddy, like a fool in love. Maybe because that’s what he is. “Take a shower.”

“Take it with me.” He says, without thinking about it but one hundred percent meaning it.

“I already showered.”

He makes sure to scrunch his nose and make a funny face “Did you really?”

It’s not really a surprise when you turn around from your painting and swipe your brush across his mouth.

“I smell amazing and you smell like shit. Go and shower, Jeong.”

He enjoys ticking you off a bit too much. Either way he laughs, the taste of paint on his tongue when he does and, when he gets up and goes to the bathroom, he hears the soft sound of your giggle and his heart feels full.

And then you get him back like ten minutes later, by turning off the light in the bathroom and almost giving him a heart attack at the sudden loss of it. He breathes out an exaggerated sigh and, when you turn them back on, he turns around and watches you through the glass divider.

Unfortunately for you, the glass is frosted from his chest down, but you lean against the marble counter and eye him suggestively nonetheless. He continues with his shower as if this is the most normal scenario ever for the two of you.

It feels like it, anyway.

“Can I help you, princess?”

“Tomorrow I’ll go home,” you start, not a question or a request, but a fact. “I’ll go home and I'm going to sit with them all at dinner and let them hear what I’m going to do from now on. They don’t need to know that I’m going to take classes—”

“You are?”

Humming, you nod once and then twice after a second of looking at the floor, determination in your stare when you look up at him again. “I’m going to get a bachelor’s in art education, maybe just art first. It’ll take time but…” You shrug.

“But you’ll be doing what makes you happy.” He finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you return softly, “and I'll be detached from my family’s hip eventually.”

“One will argue,” he says, closing his eyes to avoid shampoo to get into them, “that you’re already pretty independent.”

“While doing my work and my brother’s work, sure,” you smile, “but not when it comes to living on my own.”

An idea crosses his mind and colors his cheeks, so he hums “You’ll be lonely.”

“I already feel that way at home… But I do love the idea of having a space all for myself.”

He hums again and then wipes the water from his eyes to send you a look.

“How much do you love it?”

“Jeong,” you say, laughing when you finally get what he’s suggesting, “we’re not moving in together.”

He pouts.

“Yet.”

He smiles at you again.

“Besides,” turning around, you let out a tired sigh when you catch the paint on your face and then you open the faucet to clean it off, “then Yeosang would miss you too much and he’ll blame me. I don’t want your friend to hate me.”

“He would never—”

You don’t let him dismantle your excuses “What is he up to with that documentary, anyway?”

He closes the shower and reaches for a towel the next second, not even bothering fully covering himself up when he gets out and you send him a look through the mirror, one he can’t decide if it’s in reproach or if it’s charged with something else. Probably both.

But he plays coy and tries his best to answer your question as he secures the towel around his hips.

“He’s doing this documentary about dance, he’s been working on it for a while. Obviously I’m the star of it,” he watches you roll your eyes and he bumps your arm with his in retaliation. “But my co-stars are taking all of his attention now. It’s kind of annoying.”

“And he finds them— your co-stars I mean,” your eyes roll again, “at the club?”

Yunho barely helps the laugh that spills out of his lips.

“No, um, that’s a completely different story. He keeps saying that he needs to film this one girl for the documentary but we all stopped believing him when he almost got beat up for filming her,” he explains, his hands brushing his wet hair back, “and he went back to do it again anyway.”

Your hip connects to the countertop again, your back to the mirror “So he’s in love?”

“I don’t think so. I think he’s… Intrigued.”

“Is she an exotic dancer or something?”

“What?”

“What?” you return, shrugging, “nothing wrong with stripping for a living.”

“I know, that’s not what I meant—”

“Do you have something against strippers, Yunho?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“N-no, of course I—”

“Oh, you don’t?”

“Princess…” He breathes out another laugh, a nervous chuckle this time. “Stop teasing me.”

Your frown slowly breaks into a smile and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“But you look so cute when you’re flustered!”

He stops messing with his hair to grab your hips and make sure you have nowhere to go, trapped between his body and the cold marble behind you.

“I’m not cute,” he says, low, almost in a whisper, “and I showered.”

“Yunho… Are you not hungry at all? You have to eat something.”

He wants to laugh again but he stops himself, his hands roaming your front and slipping to your legs when he kneels a little “Hm, I’m starving.”

Gasping when he kisses your middle through your shirt, you push him away with feign distress written all over your expression.

“Jeong!”

He gets back up again “What?”

“Are you going to be this much of a troublemaker when we live together? I have things to do!”

He stops, his hands holding your hips still and then you gasp again when he tugs and presses you against his body.

“You said when.”

You gulp “I know what I said.”

“You’re making plans for the future and I’m in them.”

“Well,” you titter with a nervous glint in your eye, but your chin is up the next second, “you know what? Yeah. Yes, I am, because I love—”

He presses his lips against yours before you finish your sentence and when he pulls away you push on his chest again.

“Annoying.” You say but you don’t mean it and he laughs, his arms going around you before you melt into his embrace fully.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

You think about it, he can feel you thinking as he rocks you both from side to side “No,” you finally say, in a whisper and then your next words come out firmer. “No, I need to do this on my own. I would love to see you later tomorrow night, though.”

“Hm, I have practice and then I promised to help Gyuri move in with Wooyoung but I can tell them that I’m in love and busy.”

“No, no,” you pull back, smiling a little, “Can I… I mean, I can help.”

He smiles as well “You want to?”

You nod.

“She has a bunch of shit but San is moving most of the stuff because, partially, it’s his fault she has to move, so.”

“Hm, how so?”

“Gyuri and his girlfriend live together, for years now, and now they want to move in with each other so Gyuri is forced to live with the embodiment of mischief while she finds an apartment she can afford.”

You laugh “I don’t think it bothers her that much.”

“Why?” He frowns and, at his question, you give him an incredulous look. “Why?”

“Baby, oh my God.”

He lets you go and you push him away fully, getting out of the bathroom.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Figure it out, dummy!”

He’s truly, genuinely and utterly confused, but the smile on his face hardly goes down as he watches you sit down in front of your painting again, from the bathroom door’s threshold.

And his heart aches for the pain you’re probably going to endure the next day.

When you enter the code to your front door, bag in hand, it’s almost lunch time. You didn’t let them know you’ll be returning today but you’re sure the way your suitcase falls at the dining room’s entrance is enough to alert them. Soohyun jumps a little, your mother lets out a scream and your father looks up from his phone slowly, gives you a look, and then looks back down.

“Oh, great, you’re back. Y/N, next time would you please let me know when you’re showing up so I can schedule your appointments accordingly— Kim Y/N!”

Your mother's scandalized scream is not what surprises you. What surprises you is the hug Soohyun gets up to give you, a tight squeeze that you smile into and then make a face at when he pulls away.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers to just you. “Don’t let her tell you otherwise.”

Nodding, you finally face your mother whose jaw is almost hitting the floor by now. Your father, as usual, is unbothered and tapping his fingers against the glass of the table, impatiently waiting for his food.

“Why do you mutilate yourself like this? And without notifying your team, nonetheless! We’ll have to… Get you some hair extensions for the shoot that you have—”

“No.”

She pauses, her jaw ticking and her eyebrow raising in warning. A few months ago, the mere thought of upsetting her would’ve sent you into a panic attack. Now, you stand your ground and curve your lips with pride, lift your chin up with courage and hold the handle of your suitcase a little tighter because you need it, because your hands tremble a little.

“Excuse me?”

“I said no,” you repeat yourself and your tone gains you your father's attention. “I’m sure the public can survive a haircut, mom. Can you?”

“Kim Y/N do not talk to me like that!”

She steps your way and your brother steps a side, giving you a wide eyed look that can only mean a here she goes again and you purse your lips to stop yourself from nervously laughing at it.

“You cut your hair, you leave for three months and come back all… All chubby,” oh, my god, “and you dare to speak to me that way?!”

The mention of your weight does send a little panic cruising through you. It has your father huffing from his seat and your brother snapping his head rapidly in your mother’s direction, a frown creasing his eyebrows and you can tell he’s about to say something but you stop him with a shake of your head.

And then you laugh.

You taste something bitter in your mouth and you can see the exact moment she notices her words are not affecting you the way they usually do.

“I think it’s time I move out,” you start, with a tiny, sardonic smile on your lips, “and I also think it is also time you think about the way you speak to me, mother. And I think you,” you turn to your father, “need to think about all the times you allowed her to talk to me that way.”

Your dad looks up, raises his eyebrows, hums and then looks back down again.

“Sure thing.” He says.

“What is happening right now?” your mother asks, a nervous chuckle coming out of her and after that she moves her hand, dismissing your point and turning to go to her seat again. “You’re talking nonsense. Go upstairs and wash. You’re obviously not having dinner, I hope.”

She’s always doing it on purpose, bringing you down like that on purpose, but right now? Right now she craves vengeance. You notice it in the way she looks for your reaction when she looks up.

“I am having dinner. Not here, not with you, not anymore.”

Your mother sighs, rubs her forehead with her thumb and her index “Kim Y/N, I beg, stop terrorizing me and—”

“She’s moving in with me.”

You turn to Soohyun, he gives you a look to signal you to follow his lead.

“She’s a little bit too grown up and independent to live under your roof still, mom. Dad?” He asks and your father looks up. “Don’t you agree?”

“Well,” your father cleans his throat, his back hitting the back of his chair as he thinks it over, “she is capable of being on her own. Besides, her room can make a wonderful office for you, dear.”

“Her room is staying hers because she’s not going anywhere!” Your mom stands up again, voice dark and tone painted over with something you’ve never even heard before. Not coming from her, at least: Fear. “Why do you suddenly want to move out? Is there…” She closes her mouth and then gulps, breathing out a laugh the next second. “Are you running away with someone, Y/N? Is that it? Did you fall in love on your little trip? You’re promised to someone!”

“Promised? I am not promised because we’re in the twenty-first century, mom!”

“To Yunho, Y/N! Don’t be stupid and tell your little fling to get lost!”

“Mom…” Soohyun warns but she laughs again, indignant.

“What? She knows this already. How would the Jeong’s feel if—”

“I don’t care what they feel!”

Your voice resonates in the room, it shuts everyone up, it makes your mom take a step back and your father blocks his phone, finally interested in what’s going on.

“I am with Yunho.”

Your mother smiles a second too late at what you said and opens her mouth, but you interrupt whatever nonsense she’s about to spew out.

“I am with him but not because you or his mother planned it. I’m not trying to fullfill your little fucked up fantasy—”

“Y/N!” She gasps at the cursing but you continue nonetheless.

“I am with him because I love him. I love him and he loves me and we are together because, against all odds, we ended up bonding and finding comfort and solace in each other. We made the choice, we did,” you insist on it, to let her know that it doesn’t matter if you two being together is exactly what she wanted, the final say is on you and Yunho alone. “I have something you two could never have and that’s companionship and true understanding that’s not rutted in power or in money. He… He made me realize we’re so much more than this.” You move your hands in the space between you and the rest of the room and your father hums a bitter sound in return.

“This,” your father gets up from his seat, hands going in the pockets of his dress pants and eyebrows raised with a sardonic edge to them that pisses you off, “is your family.”

“I know and that makes it worse,” you nod and the slow anger showing in his expressions grows just a tad bit more, so you go on before anyone else can interrupt you again. “Here’s what’s going to happen from now on, dad; If you want me to, I’ll keep working at the company, but Soohyun's responsibilities are solely his from now on,” you turn to your brother and he gives a fake pout but then he nods. “My job is simple, my job should allow me to focus on what I really want and, once I get what I really want, I'll make sure to find someone who can fit my spot so seemingly you won't even notice I'm gone.”

“I thought that what you wanted was to work for this company, Y/N.” Your father says.

“I thought so too,” you murmur back to him before shrugging, “but now I’m not so sure.”

A bit of pregnant silence passes. The air feels thick now that you told them your terms, your plan or what you allowed them to hear of it anyways. Like you told your boyfriend, there’s no need for them to know that you want to take classes or teach.

You’ll just do it. No need for their approval.

But your mother still grasps at the control she had on you three months ago. She holds on to it, desperately and, if you were someone else and the situation was any different, you would probably admire the strength it takes to stay this egotistical and delusional until the end.

She doesn’t seem to understand that her only daughter is running away from her. You’re not sure she cares, either and it hurts because, deep down, you expected to walk off with redemption on her side.

Sometimes, there’s no redemption at all from the people who hurt you.

And that’s also okay.

“Are you done?” She asks, looking around. “Are you all done with this nonsense?”

Taking in a breath, you try to tell her that what you said it’s what’s going to happen but she is not having it.

“No,” her finger is up and you raise your eyebrow at it, which gains you a raise on hers in return. “No. You’re not looking for a replacement and no you’re not moving out. That’s insane, Kim Y/N, that’s—”

“What’s my favorite color?” You interrupt to ask her and she stops, opening and closing her mouth while searching for an answer. “What’s my favorite sweet?”

“You don’t have one.”

“I do, I actually have two. What’s my favorite book? Movie? Song?” You turn to your dad this time. “What’s my favorite marketing strategy? Do you even know that one?”

Silence.

“You don’t know me enough to want to keep me here. I understand why you might think you do, but you don’t. Because, guess what? I’m an adult.”

Your mother opens her mouth and closes it again when you shake your head.

And although you’re not speaking to her anymore, you keep looking at your mother straight in the eye and you’re able to catch the exact moment she realizes she lost.

She lost.

“I’m an adult with a paying job and savings you didn’t need to know anything about. So you either take it or leave it. Dad?”

“You want me to decide now?”

You let out a bitter laugh “You can do whatever you want. Just know that I’m not settling for anything else but what I told you. I can either train someone or you can fire me and I can look for a new job,” you explain, “but either way I’m out of here.”

Your mother sighs and then mutters under her breath, but you catch it “What is everyone going to say?”

“I don’t care,” you tell her again and at the response she looks up, startled, like she didn’t expect you to keep going. “Now, I hope you have a lovely lunchr.”

You’re positively shaking when you step into the hallway and through the front door again, with your suitcase in your hand still and no actual plan on where you want to go. Maybe back to the hotel?

Mind reeling, it finally registers the fact that your mother turned to your father and pleaded him to do something for the sake of the family's image just before you stepped foot outside of the house. It was a screech of don't let her go, do something! laced with clear selfish concern.

You feel panic rising, closing your throat up and you feel lost, lost in what you just did, lost in what it actually means for you.

“Hey, hey.” Soohyun catches up to you quickly, his keys in his hands, his breath jagged like he escaped your mother’s claws because that’s probably what happened. “Sell out! You needed to signal me when you wanted to leave, dumbass!”

His eyes linger on your trembling hands when he takes the suitcase from you and you do your best to steady them.

“You didn’t have anything to eat.”

“I know. Where are you going?”

“To… I don’t really know. Yunho’s dorm?”

Soohyun laughs.

“You have a house, you know.”

“I think I’m very much homeless right now. I’m getting trapped and probably thrown in a cell if I go back inside.” You swallow tightly as the realization washes over you. “She’s so mad.”

“My house,” he clarifies, rolling his eyes. “I told them you’re moving in with me, didn’t I?”

“Soohyun…”

“I meant it,” there’s something soft in his eyes before he turns to open the main gate so you can both walk up to his car. “You can stay with me. Like you said, you’re grown and I won't have to look after you anymore.”

“Pfft,” that brings out a genuine laugh out of you, “anymore.”

“I remember running behind you in the garden because you couldn't keep still the second you learned how to walk!”

You look at him with a pout as he opens the trunk, throwing your bag in it without any care in the world.

Like an older brother would.

If your eyes turn watery, you make sure to swallow back the emotion before he can figure out why.

“Can I have my own room?”

“You have a room there already,” he admits, shrugging. “I mean, I thought about you when buying the apartment. Guhno usually stays there but I’m sure he can take the couch when he comes over and— Aw, Y/N!”

By the time he closes the trunk, you’re already crying. A little, enough for him to notice it.

“I don’t want to hear it. Open the door.”

“I’m so telling Yunho you cried!”

“Leave him out of it!” You push his shoulder, quickly getting into the car when he unblocks the doors and he does the same. “He’s staying over whenever he wants, by the way.”

Soohyun laughs, his eyes wide when he turns to you “Not a chance in hell, Kim Y/N.”

“Okay, then your boyfriend is not staying over either!”

“I don’t have a boyfriend!”

You muse, trying not to laugh “I’m telling Gunho oppa you’re denying your love to my face.”

Your brother lets out a sigh and then you squeak when he pulls your hair, playfully, before looking at you with the most sincere stare Kim Soohyun has probably given anyone ever.

“I’m really proud of you, kid.”

Pouting again, you look away and through the window as he pulls out of the curb and into the streets, the house you grew up in quickly fading into the background and your heart thumping hard against your ribs.

“Are you crying again?”

“Ugh,” you turn to him, tears running down your cheeks and a smile pulling at your lips, “you’re so annoying.”

Your clothes are now in your room at Soohyun’s (and yours) apartment, in the walk-in closet. Your brother's taste is nothing short of luxurious and obnoxious and the room is decorated in a way you would never think of decorating it but he swears he has someone who can fix it for me if he wants to.

He forgets that you already know Seonghwa but it's okay, because when you show up at Gyuri’s old apartment, you make sure to find him to tell him just that.

“I've literally told him that we both know Yunho and each other. Wasn't he the one who gave you my number?” Seonghwa asks, mouth hanging open a bit in surprise.

“He did, yes.”

Seonghwa huffs in amusement and you shrug a little “Well, do you want me to work in your room?” He asks after a few seconds and you smile, considering.

“I think I’m going to do it myself, Hwa.”

At the nickname, his smile widens and he nods. You think he’s about to say something else, however your attention drifts from your newfound friend and your eyes search for Yunho in the middle of the room, on the floor, as he takes a piece of furniture apart.

He’s wearing a dark grey crewneck that makes him look so deliciously good you can’t barely help your staring. There’s not one ounce of shame on your body and you’re sure it shows on your face because Seonghwa laughs besides you.

“So I didn’t paint over the tree,” he says and you frown, turning to him, “but I take you reconsidered my point anyway?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s not going to happen,” the mockery in his tone while he tries to make an impression of you doesn’t offend you because you can see the intention behind it and it makes you laugh, roll your eyes and close your arms over your chest, like a child who just got caught. “It’s not going to happen, my ass. Look at you!”

“So I was wrong, who cares?”

“I do, I love being right.”

“He does,” Wooyoung comes into view from the kitchen, a drop of sweet doing his temple and into his cheek that Seonghwa wipes away like it’s nothing. “But I can say I called it first, remember? I’m never wrong.”

“You most certainly are,” Hwa says and you laugh at the expression Wooyoung makes to his friend, offended. Seonghwa turns to you. “He’s wrong most of the time.”

“Okay, that’s it, you’re helping me with the weird spice rack she insists on taking.” Wooyoung takes his elder arm and pulls, making you laugh and Seonghwa gasps.

“You’ve been working on that all afternoon!”

“She installed it herself so it’s all wonky, Hwa.”

Gyuri screams from behind a pile of clothes. You can't even see her even though you know she's standing up. “It is not wonky, Jung Wooyoung!”

Pursing your lips so you don't laugh at her predicament, you watch as Wooyoung silently communicates to Seonghwa that the space rack is, in fact, wonky and then you jump a little when arms close around you from behind.

“Stop complaining, Woo, you're going to have the pleasure to install it however you want later.” Yunho's voice is close to your ear and you hug the arms that hold you, melting into the embrace.

Gyuri laughs sharply when she registers what he said and Wooyoung makes a face at your boyfriend “I hate it here.”

“Sure you do, Wooyoung.” You nod at him, joking even though you don’t know him that well, and Seonghwa joins the tiny laugh you let out at the face Wooyoung gives you.

“I truly did not need a new addition to the group if I was going to get bullied by them as well.”

You fake offense, laughing a second later and Yunho swats a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he passes by you both and into the kitchen again. Seonghwa rolls his eyes before following Wooyoung into the kitchen as well.

Yunho breathes out, his lips finding your cheek “How are you feeling?”

Turning to him, you smile a little. You know he’s asking about what went a little earlier today.

“I’m good, baby,” you whisper back, leaning in a little and kissing him tenderly on the lips. He reciprocates but when you pull away you can see the concern in his eyes. “I promise. I already knew how she was going to react.”

“Me too but that doesn’t make it any less fucked up, Princess.”

“I know,” letting out a sigh, you turn to the living room again and the corners of your lips lift at the mess. “But I’m out of the house and I’m alright now.”

“My mom texted me to congratulate us.”

“Oh?” You don’t turn to him again but your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Did you answer?”

“No,” he breathes out a laugh, “but I should.”

“We can’t run from them forever, Yun,” you feel him nod against you and, finally, you turn around completely to face him. His hands find your waist, his lips curve as he watches you over and you do the same. “Also, you’re banned from my house.”

His smile drops.

“Huh?”

“Soohyun doesn’t want you sleeping over.”

“What did I do?”

You hear someone laughing behind you and Gyuri comes into view a second later “You’re the official boyfriend now, Yunho, you lost your sleeping over privileges.”

“I never had them to begin with!”

“Well—” The sound of glass breaking stops her in her tracks and she goes a little pale at what it means. “Call the police, I’m committing a murder and then turning myself in.”

And then she disappears into the kitchen as well. Faintly, you can hear Seonghwa laughing. You hold onto Yunho, fingers threading softly into the strands of hair on his neck.

“They’re not helping us when we move in together.”

Yunho laughs.

“When we move in together we’re going to hire professionals.”

“Exactly.”

“And Seonghwa can do the interior design of the main part of the house but we can handle our room and studios by ourselves.”

“Mhm.”

There’s that slight glint of concern that crosses his expression again when you take in a deep breath, but you shake your head so he can let go of it.

“We’ll be okay, Yun. We are okay.”

You watch him swallow tightly but then he nods. There’s a lot you both should be concerned about right now but, as you hear Wooyoung scream from the kitchen and a loud smack against the wall nearest to you, you both silently decide to be in the moment.

It doesn’t really matter what hardships you go through, as long as you’re together.

“Against all odds,” you insist, “we’ll be alright.”

I love them and I'm so sad to let them go but hey! that's life! If you read all the way down hear, thank you so, so much. Don't be afraid to go into my askbox to make comments, suggestions, etc! I will take everything into account for my other stories. Thank you!

#jeong yunho x y/n #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho imagines #jeong yunho #yunho fluff #yunho fanfic #yunho smut #yunho x y/n #yunho x you #yunho x reader #jeong junho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez icons #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez reactions

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lologoinsolo · 11 hours ago

Text

Part 1, Part 2 TW: Mentions of blood! Non-con sedation And kidnapping!

“Make her off…” Kyle murmurs under his breath. That annoying smell of something far too clean and sterile has kept him up. Everyone has been taking time to sit besides Johnny in the hospital bed. “Make her off,” he jolts a bit when the door opens. John’s not looking his best but he’s trying to keep himself strong. Johnny took a bullet and nearly died for him after all.

“What’s that?” John says, tiredness etched into his features as he takes his seat besides a sleeping Johnny. The doctors worked relentlessly to keep him alive, now he just needs to wake up from his coma. “Heard you muttering, do you need a break?”

Kyle merely scoffs, he and Simon’s been sitting here the most. He still can’t get how devastated Simon sounded when Johnny was laying in a pile— he shakes his head and breathes deeply. “You remember that girl,” he says offhandedly, “the one that acted weirdly around Johnny.”

John’s beard crinkles slightly, “yeah? Johnny mentioned it once. Gave a report and everything.” He leans a bit forward, “why?” The gears in his head starts to grind.

“She told him that sunshine can’t go down the tunnel.” John freezes and Kyle continues, “I don’t get it. She was clearly frightened and confused.”

“She said sunshine?”

“Yeah,” Kyle sighs, “said it like a prayer.”

“I called Johnny, sunshine, before we went in the tunnel.” At that Kyle sits up. “I told him that we wouldn’t go down easy”.

The man’s eyes widen. “Make her off, make her— Makarov!” He shouts and the nurse makes a shushing noise, Kyle doesn’t seem to care as he stands up. The realization crashed down on him. “She knew,” she had to. “John, she knew.” How else would she have known that Makarov would’ve been there before anyone else?

The tiredness ebbs from John’s face and the Captain shows up. “Get Laswell on the phone right now, Gaz.”

…

You watched the news repeatedly after you left the hospital. You couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, everything felt wrong. Those blue eyes haunt you every time you blink. Your left side of your head throbs and aches, an itch on the inside of your brain. You hate it. You hate him. You hate that you can’t help but wait for a sign. A sign that you’re not as crazy as the doctors have made you out to be.

A week passes and nothing, another and nothing. You give up hope till the news recounts a ‘gas leak’ in a tunnel. Causing multiple problems and a near casualty. You drop your remote when your vision shakes your world and you see the man with familiar blue eyes being rushed on a gurney. Voices shouting at you, voices you’ve never heard giving commands. Your hands claw at your hair and you feel bile coming up your throat from the intensity of the sight. He’s bloodied up and his left side of his head looks at though it’s been cracked open with the blood gushing out.

You scream and fall to your knees when you manage to pull out. Your stomach lurches and you struggle to stand. You grab your keys, your wallet, and anything useful and drive off. You don’t know where you’re going but you're running. You never stay long when the visions come true, you can’t risk yourself. You won’t.

So you move, move around quickly and find a job. You found a hole in the wall apartment, no one would come looking for you here… at least you hope. Weeks turn into months, months turn into a year and you feel like maybe your life is coming slowly back together. Your visions have been weak but consistent, the only one that’s ever shaken you was blue eyes but he’s probably okay now. Hopefully…

Getting off of work, a job at the gas station. Something easy to blend into and no one bats an eye when you don’t look okay. Everyday has been feeling weirder. You’ve been writing more, visions are starting to stay longer. They’re getting worse again, the left side of your head throbs more every day. You’re tempted to run again but you don’t have the funds to do that. Taking a deep breath you push the apartment's creaky gate open, trudging along up the stairs to your place. You pull your keys out and as you do a warning flashes through you.

A man with a beard is sitting at your table, holding a gun, waiting. Waiting. He’s— you don’t open your door and you take off down the stairs. Your panic is rising with every stomp of your foot. You are near the gate and a flash of a hand goes through your mind's eye but not quick enough when you’re grabbed roughly. Can’t even scream when a hand clamps right over your mouth.

“Shut it,” a voice as deep as the ocean growls out. Your arms are forced behind your back as you cry and flail. You try to move them back but your assailant cuffs you quickly before slamming a hand back over your mouth before you can even call for help. Something cold is then pushed against the center of your back and it doesn’t take your curse to see that it’s a gun. “Walk. Now,” you hear a click and you tremble a step. Your arms are painfully tight against your back as he shoves you forward.

You walk up the steps and tears run down your face when he doesn’t even turn the knob, the door just opens for him. Meaning it was already unlocked. He shoves you once more to your kitchen table, the man with the beard that your curse showed earlier is sitting there. Waiting with a gun on the table. “Sit,” beard says, the one behind you gives a sharp nudge from his own gun and you sit.

“Pl-Please, I— I don’t have,” beard raises his hand and you try desperately to not whimper. “Please,” you beg, hoping he doesn’t kill you. You don’t know what they want or who they are.

“We need to talk.” Is all he says, he leans forward. The chair groaning under his weight and you blink back your wet eyes to see that he’s wearing a fishing hat. “You’re not hard to find, you know? Never stay in a place for long though.” His eyes squint and your struggle to breath when says without saying that you’re being tracked and watched. “Why are you running?” He doesn’t ask, he expects an answer from you. That gun on the table won’t allow you to deny him that.

“I…” you swallow, you can’t seem to stop your tears or the snot. You rub your face as best as you can against your shoulder. “Am I in t-trouble?” It’s not the answer he wants and his hand moves to his gun. “Please!” You shout suddenly, “I don’t know what I did wrong! Tell me, please— I don’t have any money. I’m sorry, please.”

He says nothing as you plead and beg, the one behind you doesn’t even make a gesture. You didn’t even recognize that he was wearing a mask, a skull one at that. A grim reaper that’s come to reap.

“Don’t kill me,” you blubber, you’re trembling so much that you’re surprised you haven’t vibrated off the chair. “Just— just tell me what I did wrong.”

He stands and you flinch, his hand trails as he walks around you. Shrinking under his hard gaze even more, “how did a girl like you work for Makarov, hm?” He chuckles mirthlessly, “could spill your bits out easily,” the one behind you grunts in agreement.

“I don’t,” you shake your head repeatedly side to side, “Makarov? Who? I don’t—“ beard grabs your chin and squeezes tightly making you whimper.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” He sneers, “one of my best nearly died but you told him to not go into that tunnel.” His thumb shifts harder against the fat of your cheeks. “Why?” That’s what confuses him in the entirety of tracking you down. If you did work for Makarov, why did you tell Johnny about it?

“Tunnel?” You murmur, tears rolling down your face and he does you the single kindness of flicking them away. It dawns on you now. “I-I,” you start hyperventilating, your anxiety through the roof as you try to breathe. The visions come flooding back and you scream.

…

10 minutes prior.

Gaz searches through your computer. Searching for something that could prove that you work with Makarov. It’s the only thing that makes possible sense, you’re practically normal. Your records scream ‘normal’, Laswell couldn’t find anything save for the fact that you’re an only child that went through numerous foster homes.

“Son of a bitch,” he slams his fist against your desk. Your search history is useless save for everything else. Sourdough starter, flower pots, seeds, gas, kitchenware, gas, star lights, dresser, gas. He sighs after looking at all of it, he hears a woman crying and he knows that Price is already interrogating you. He’d feel bad but they all need answers, “what are you hiding?” He mumbles when he sees gas, floor, and dresser typed in repeatedly. Almost like it’s important but why would you type it so many times. “Maybe she wanted new flooring?”

He leans back, taking a breath and he rolls his neck. “Gas…” his eyes move towards your dresser, “gas,” it starts to click, “Gaz, floor, dresser.” He pushes off and runs to your dresser. He opens it and digs through your clothing for something, anything. He lets out a gritted curse when there’s nothing.

He runs his hand down the sides, “floor,” a light bulb flickers to life in his head and he gets on his knees. His hands tap on the floorboards and he hears a hollow sound. “Gotcha,” he pulls the floorboards back and he sees numerous journals. Some old and some new, he grabs the newest one and he flips it open. Flicking through the pages and most of the dated entries makes no sense. Some are singular words to full on spirals of paragraphs. The latest one that’s dated today brings him to a stop.

Gun, man with gun, home, no safe. Run, run, mask, grab, gas will read, gas is read. Read. Read. figuring out, knowing. He knows. Knows. Knows. Scream.

Just as he reads that last word he hears a scream and he comes running downstairs with his gun in hand. He sees you screaming as Ghost shoves a needle into your throat. You flail and flounder, tears staining your cheeks and you manage to get off the chair. Ghost stands over you as you try to crawl away but there’s no way to escape. You hold out for as long as you can but eventually you give in. The sedative works quick and Ghost gives a nudge to your soft side but you make no movement. “Out like a light,” he hears the big man say. He crouches down and turns you on your back.

“Sir,” Gaz says, holstering his gun, “you need to see this.” Price glares down at you but he follows after Gaz upstairs to your room. “She—“ he doesn’t even know where to begin, “she knew we’d come.” He pushes your room door to open more. The journals he rummaged through is sprawled out on the floor.

“Makarov?” There’s a tight look on his Captain's face when Gaz shakes his head, “then how, Garrick?” Ghost is probably taking you to their van right now. Everything’s off record and he’s sure someone is bound to call the police with how you screamed. Just what he needed, he sways to move his weight to one side as Gaz looks bewildered, confused, and shaken up.

“Here,” he passes off your journal with the entry written before the one Gaz had read. It’s dated yesterday.

Man. 1, no, 2. Gun, man with gun, home, no safe. Run, run, mask, grabs. Grabbing you. Men, 3. 3 men, 3 total. Blue eyes. Blue. Same Blue. Hurt? Are hurt you? Will hurt they you? Scared. No. Stop, stop. Needle! Taken. Dark, van dark.

#lolowrites #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod mw2 #heart in a headlock #I don’t know what this is #I think I’m just gonna let it take me where it wants to go

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