#i honestly don't know if this made sense but i tried

[sugar--brown]

Oh look! Another occasion to babbles about the mechs!

The story Out is terrible for me hard to read (hate sad ending) but soooo interesting. So here's three thoughts (aka fanfiction ideas) I have about it!

First one: How Aurora works. Not like... how mechanically she works or how a moon/ship can have blood and teeth. But in a way of: how did she "transitionned" (I don't have a better word in my vocabulary) from organic moon to metallic ship.

How does it feel? How do your conscious work? Is opening a door, changing the temperature, activating reactors, the same thing as flexing a finger for us?

My idea is Aurora could be compared as a mecha, but she had fused with it. The mecha became part of her body in a way. She has her own conscious, she can control everything aboard, but not in a God way. More like she was sitting in a room surrounded by screen, computers, buttons and switches. Metaphorically of course.

Over the centuries, she became really good at keeping an eye at all the screens. At managing all the buttons and switches. At making quick researchs on the computers.

But she's still one concious forced to fuse with a machine she is foreign to. She can't focus on all the screens at once, she can't activates all buttons and switches, and she can’t make infinite researches at the same time.

So. It means that on the outside, Aurora is not organic. She's a machine. A machine that can be fixed, repaired, changed, and put new programs in.

But it also means that fundamentally, she is organic. She is messy like the beings Nastya doesn't like (cf gender rebels). She can break up with her. She can choose to go save a mortal if she wants to. She is still the little moon Carmilla raised.

Nastya's ability to consider relationship with machines to the same level of telationship with organic beings is a true blessing for her. Because she is stuck in this weird inbetween of considering herself like an organic beings, but being seen as a machine by everyone around her. The mechs included. Except Nastya, who doesn't care if she is a machine: she loves Aurora.

That brought us to the second thought: Nastya actually cares. Deeply. Too much.

Like we know, Nastya finds organic beings messy and unpredictable. And like OP said, Nastya grew up in a world where machines is more familiar than anything else for her.

I think for a long time, Nastya pretended that Aurora is purely a machine. She talks about improving her ai, she calls her "the aurora, our starship", and never corrects anyone on that fact.

She lashes on her because Aurora was familiar, safe, and honestly between murderous Jonny, vampire Carmilla, and starship Aurora, she was the most capable of understanding toward Nastya.

But Aurora wasn't cyberian. In fact, cyberians were her abusers. So, even if she loves Nastya dearly and will never totally go back to her moon-self, it's understandable that she tries to get back what had been stripped off her. Her autonomy, her independance, her sense of self. First by acting like organic being with Nastya (cf break up), then my making choices by herself (saving Briar Rose) and finally by replacing cyberian on her.

And Nastya cares. She cares about that cyberian part. Way more than Aurora anticipated. Because for Nastya, that was the start of her relationship with Aurora. That was what made her safe, familiar, and understanding. That was what made her home for Nastya.

So, when there was only a line of cyberian numbers left... Nastya went out. Because Aurora wasn't familiar anymore.

And this is my final point: Nastya's problem has nothing to do with Aurora. Aurora is just a symptom.

Nastya deeply fear challenges and changements.

Think about it. She grew up in a false utopy, then violently murdered by someone she trusted, and brought back to life by a vampire scientist and her weird violent son. That's a lot of changes. Too much for a young reclused princess.

This is the root of Nastya's traumas. In an instant, all she knew was destroyed. And all because of messy and organic beings. All was good, until at the first problem everything comes crashing down forever.

I doubt she talked about it to anyone. Jonny seems genuinely surprised by her departure, having no idea she felt this bad to the point of not coming back forever.

Aurora was just the last straw. The last rampart between Nastya and the problems she ran away all of her immortal life. Aurora was the last illusion of something which is safe and will never ever change no matter what. Something which she could hold on to without fearing treason.

So, when Aurora did the only thing that Nastya fears - changing - she snaps. A lot of things could have brought up her trauma in a way she couldn't had been able to ignore. But the fact that it was the love of her life who made her snap pushed her to do something irrational.

Not in the panic. I mean, she saw Aurora changed over the milleniums. And Aurora seems more surprised like it was new than angry to have the same argument again.

Nastya had ruminated alone her traumas, mistrust, and fear of challenges, changes, and organic beings so much that she went Out.

Not because of Aurora, but because Nastya had never been fine in the first place.

It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.

quote from gender rebels

Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm

screenshot from A Bedtime Story

Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.

The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.

And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.

And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:

"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)

Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.

Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.

While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.

Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.

Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.

And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.

Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.

and hard for nastya.

‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’

Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)

So nastya left.

[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (final)

prev // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 13k

warning: smut that i'm not proud of

a/n: it's finally here! only took like 10 years. apology if i missed anyone on the taglist, it's been forever

you know you're probably wrong. but even if you are, you don't wanna hear about it.

don't wanna hear about all the mistakes and choices you're making on a whim because you've already had enough of today.

you wish you were surprised when san is the first thing you see upon exiting your work building. at this point, it's really just irritating how predictable he is.

he showed up, of course he did. all the purposely missed calls and ignored texts practically an invitation--a mistake on your part.

hands in his pockets and a sullen expression on his face as if you've done him wrong, the beating of your heart louder the closer you are to him, whether you'd like to admit it or not.

he looks tired, even if it's evening and the sun is already faltering from the sky; adorned in his messy unbrushed hair and sweatsuit staring at you with eyes a mix of everything from annoyance, sadness, to anger--all of which you don't wanna deal with right now, if ever.

you suck in your breath and stop in front of him, thinking it's way too cliche if you just walk past him only to be pulled back by the grip on your wrist. so you let him talk.

though it feels like the longest stare-off before he speaks up, after finally picking up the hint that if he isn't gonna, you two might as well stand in unpleasant silence.

"what happened?" is all san says, because he honestly can't even begin to think of what to ask first.

why did you ignore all of his calls and texts yesterday? why are you standing before him now, looking the most pissed off he's seen you in a while when you also just sounded the happiest you've ever been in a while?

but most importantly, how did you all of sudden come to make up your mind so fast about the move? he swears, he was so sure just a day ago you were gonna stay. everything from your actions to body language, even if there were hiccups.

even if there were doubts in the smallest things you did or said at times that had him questioning the possibility for a second... he was still willing to bet you'd eventually end up staying.

"nothing happened. i made up my mind. that's it," you tell him, refusing to meet his eyes while doing so, because if you did, it's almost like you knew he's gonna be able to see through the lies.

either way, he sees through it. some of it, at least. standing unmoved in his spot and trying to make sense of everything.

"i just don't understand," he says defeatedly, probably one of the most vulnerable he's ever sounded. "i was really sure you were gonna stay."

and you'd lie if the way he said it doesn't make your heart pinch with guilt a little, inhaling another deep breath and hurling out words deprived of any empathy, "well you thought wrong."

you can tell he's taken aback by your response; the cold shoulder something he can take, but not when it's also met with harsh words he feels he's undeserving of.

"so that's it?" he says, shrugging with thinning patience and a tone no longer friendly and concerned. "you're just gonna leave?"

after everything. after he's tried so hard to change your mind, and after he was so sure he did.

"i guess so..." you mumble, looking to the ground, ashamed but also too prideful to back down now.

an almost never-ending silence sits between you and san until both of your heads shoot to the opening of the door to your workplace, one of your coworkers making a quick appearance before heading to their car.

san clears his throat.

"can i ask why, at least?"

the question brings an even bigger knot to your throat, because how do you even tell him the real reason at this point and not wanna run away after; losing all of your pride and dignity in front of the very boy you spent most of your life despising.

the same boy, who, you realized maybe you didn't hate so much and that you might even hold some more complex feelings for.

"because," you say, trying your best to sound convincing through all the lies you're about to spew, "i-i just think it's for the best."

it's then that san seems no longer angry or in disbelief, his face turning a softer expression that speaks as if he's come to an understanding, really taking your words for it.

"i see..." he says under his breath, staring down at the ground before looking you in the eyes one last time. "if you're sure that's what you really want, then i hope it works out."

your chest constricts just at the scene replaying in your head again; the defeated look on san's face and the eerie, guilt-stricken sensation you felt in the moment all coming back the same as before.

you down another sip of the drink in your hand, repeating the action every time the thought comes back, losing count on both the number of drinks you're on and the time.

occasionally, the irritating music from the shoddy bar does a good job of distracting you when the drinks isn't enough to overpower the mere thought that you're about to make one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

the bar is nearly empty, like if there weren't music playing, you'd be able to hear a pin drop. but you're thankful for the lack of pestering from guys twice your age due to it, given you're in no mood for confrontations.

it's only peaceful for a moment longer when the front door comes bursting and in arrives what seems like a rather large group of people, the chitters drawing yours and everyone else's attentions.

you groan irritatingly and finish the rest of your drink, considering this as the sign to go home for the night as you ring up the bartender for payment.

grabbing your purse and getting off the stool, you don't make it far past the group of newcomers before a familiar voice calls to you.

"y/n?" you hear him through the now hushed music, turning to your side and meeting his wide but calm eyes.

"hongjoong?" you squeak, swallowing the knot.

it takes him only one glance over to conclude you're a mess, and especially in a place he knows you go to in order to relieve whatever stress and misery you're going through.

"what brings you here?" he asks calmly.

"i should be asking you that," you return, gaze scanning the surrounding and people that has turned such a snoozefest place into a rowdy one.

"had a small but successful showing with the band i'm in, so we wanted to celebrate and invited a couple of our close friends," he answers, much to a silence from you, prompting him to ask, "and you?"

"i wanted to grab a drink," you say, trying your best to sound casual but it's like he saw the buffering in your head when you tried coming up with an excuse.

he raises a brow, his response takes you aback. "you wanna talk about it?"

if you had heard such a thing a couple months ago, you would've scoffed and told him to leave you the hell alone. but currently, you're aware you don't have a lot of choices.

it's either you get some company, or rot in your room for the rest of the night. and maybe hongjoong's in a certainly good mood from the previous event that he's willing to hear you out, because despite the unresolved differences between the two of you, he has always been a good listener.

someone you used to come to all the time when you had problems.

after you say yes (with some hesitation and shame), hongjoong excuses himself, making sure to let some of the people he came with know regarding his whereabouts for the next few minutes.

you both occupy a booth in the far corner overlooking the crowd. hongjoong gets water for you and him because he said he doesn't wanna get buzzed just yet, and that you've had enough for the night.

"been a while, hasn't it?" he speaks, the sight of you across from him in some sketchy bar making him nostalgic.

you both used to do it all the time together; frequenting bars and getting drunk off your asses, seonghwa would have to come pick you guys up.

it's been about three years since the last time.

"yeah," you reply, voice low, because the realization hits you that it has been that long.

it doesn't only make you as nostalgic as him, but also downright depressed because while hongjoong has grown within these past years, truly following his passion and making newer, better friends, you're still in the exact same position you were from before. heck, it's even worse now.

"what's with the long face?" he breaks you out of the thought. "rough day?"

you sigh, mumbling, "pretty much." though you wouldn't even have to answer for him to know. he just does, able to read you like an open book.

he nods understandably and lingers on words he's been wanting to say, eventually giving in.

"hey, look, about yunho's celebration party... i'm sorry if i was a dick."

“fancy seeing you here,” a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.

“thought you got too good for this kind of setting.”

the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don’t bother to hide it.

“i’m not here to get high or whatever, i’m here for yunho.”

“of course you are,” he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you’re just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.

"i was just... angry and upset at the sudden sight of you after having not seen you for a while and it all came out without much thoughts."

you shake your head, unfazed from the reminder of your encounter with hongjoong at the celebration party.

"no. i understand. not like i was any nicer that day anyway."

another silence ensues, but you know it's because there's so much to say, hongjoong might not know where you begin. you don't even know where to begin.

"i ran into seonghwa a while ago," you start again, following with a chuckle when you add, "i don't know what it is that i keep running into you two."

hongjoong chuckles along.

"maybe faith wants us back together, i don't know," he jokes, but your laughter fades slowly, turning into something of a light smile.

"i do miss being with you guys," you say, locking eyes with him that speaks more than words can.

not just the parties and crazy memories, but the smaller, meaningful moments--listening to the new track hongjoong just produced as you try not to doze off, being forced to help seonghwa build the lego set he just got, and even just doing homeworks and assignments together although you were failing most of your classes.

it was them who tried to get you back on your feet, and them who tried to uplift you when you were at your lowest.

thinking of it, they might've been there for you more than yunho ever has, because after starting college, almost every instances where you were crying or is a mess, either hongjoong or seonghwa, or both, were by your side.

"i miss it, too," hongjoong says. "we're still great friends, of course, but it's not quite the same without you."

because while you had your shortcomings (most of them related to yunho), you were a great friend nonetheless.

you shared the same sense of humor and you just get him, even in ways seonghwa couldn't; the two of you able to go on for hours just debating and talking about stupid shit.

you were also quite tough in your own ways and never allowed anyone to look down on your friends--not seonghwa's nerdy hobbies, nor hongjoong's occasional shitty tracks.

you can't help the wider smile that breaks out from his comment. hongjoong don't know how much you needed to hear just one thing positive tonight, or maybe he does.

"i'm glad you still ache for my presence," you say lightheartedly, bringing out a chuckle from hongjoong.

"don't flatter yourself."

you laugh the comment off, taking a light sip of water and darting your eyes across the room to the group that came with hongjoong.

"looks like you've been doing well for yourself."

hongjoong nods. "i'd say i'm not doing so bad. and you? what have you been up to?"

it's then that the smile on your face falls, hongjoong taking a notice to it right away.

"you look down tonight, and considering you're here, i can only assume you haven't been having the greatest of time. you know you can always tell me anything, but if you're not ready, i also understand," he says carefully and empathetically, the way he always would when he sensed you were upset.

you take a deep breath because though you haven't properly spoken to him in years, you know hongjoong to be the type to carry a secret to his grave.

"it's just..." you begin, "everything's going to shit lately." obviously.

hongjoong doesn't say anything and lets you carry on respectfully, knowing he's unleashed just about everything you've kept to yourself that's been dying to get out.

"you and seonghwa were right. maybe yunho does love me, but he wasn't in love with me. him and minjeong are together now, and i caught them the night of his celebration party. my parents and his are already talking about an engagement dinner and i don't fucking know," you ramble, watching hongjoong's eyes widen at the revelation.

"woah," is all he can say.

"yeah, i know it's a lot to take in and i'm just starting."

"not to be that person that's a know-it-all, but i kind of felt something was going on between them, too. like there was always a weird ass vibe whenever they were together."

"wow," you say, puzzled. "i guess it must've just been me who was a dumbass and didn't see the signs."

"to be fair, you were pretty full of yourself so it doesn't come as a surprise," he takes a jab, knowing you won't take it to the heart.

you just roll your eyes at the remark, but before you can continue the retelling of your unfortunes, he gets to it first.

"but that's not why you're here tonight, currently drowning in misery?"

you go tight-lipped at that, eventually caving.

"it's not."

this time, he leans in and rest both his hands on the table, never breaking eye contact with you and only making you more nervous about the confession that's to come.

what would he think?

through most of the times that you've known him and seonghwa, you practically spent it denying ever developing any sort of romantic feelings for san, even when they teased you relentlessly about it.

so how would he feel when you tell him that same boy is also the current cause of the misery you're going through?

"tell me about it," he urges in a calm and friendly manner that still makes you have to swallow down the tension in your throat.

"what happened with yunho was a couple months ago," you say, "it was hard. of course it was. but it would've been even worse... if not for san." you almost whisper his name.

"he really helped me during the time. it honestly was nice to be able to talk to just anyone about it." because you're sure hongjoong can already deduce the fact you don't have anyone else besides yunho.

"and it was nice," you continue, " until it wasn't."

"and why is that?" hongjoong asks, his tone slightly teasing though you miss it completely, too immersed in the retelling.

"because..." you linger, biting your bottom lip and no longer able to look hongjoong in the eyes.

"because you've developed feelings for him?" he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, immediately pulling back your gaze as you can only stare dumbfoundedly.

"it's okay. nothing to be ashamed of." he chuckles, making your brows pinch together. "can't say i'm surprised. did think it was only a matter of time."

"wasn't like i planned to," you say, slightly annoyed, because you have no idea what he meant by his last comment.

hongjoong shrugs. "lots of things in life won't go the way we always plan. you know now."

"but only a matter of time for what? for when i'll like him? i never even considered it until some times ago."

"no. i know that. i meant it was only a matter of time till you returned the sentiment considering he's been hung up on you for so long."

you're now even more confused than you were, answering him swiftly, "hung up? as in he likes me?" the response causing the loudest chuckle of the night to erupt from hongjoong, even if he knows he shouldn't be laughing.

you have such a warped view of love, having it ever being in the form of idealizing yunho, he's also not surprise you have no idea that the reason san follows and pesters you all the time isn't because he's doing it to be annoying and make your life harder but because it might've been the only form to get your attention, and he wants it because he likes you--romantically.

hongjoong caught onto that as early as his second encounter with san.

you have wanted to grab a quick snack and drink before your class in an hour and invited hongjoong along, the both of you caught up in a conversation and forgetting about why you even came in the first place, when a tap on the table makes you forget what you were gonna tell him.

"hi," san greets, glaring down at you and smiling even if you're already exasperating just at the sight of him.

hongjoong met a lot of people at the last party, a few he's already forgotten, but he remembers san fondly mainly because he couldn't keep his eyes off of you all night (and cause you went off on a tangent about him not leaving you alone).

wherever he, you, and seonghwa were going, he found the boy following; if not physically, then always with a watchful gaze.

"i saw you didn't get anything to drink so i got you your favorite," he says, settling down the cup of hibiscus iced tea that you shoot to with lasers in your eyes.

"i don't want it," you blurt, not even bothering to look at him as you say it, because he's done more than enough to annoy you this week alone. and now running into him here, too.

"but i got it especially for you, made with love." his voice high and cheery, paying no attention to the irritation seeping from your body language and tone.

you stand up from the seat with a sigh, telling hongjoong you'll be back and head for the women's restroom.

"what's her problem?" san questions, scoffing and taking the seat you were just occupying. "i was just trying to do something nice."

"i don't know. maybe she's just pissed from a certain dickhead following her around all week," hongjoong says sarcastically, san raising an eyebrow in return before he shrugs it off.

"nothing that i also didn't do the week before."

"a pleasant person you sound," hongjoong quips, the both of them holding a stare-off so strong, the tension could probably shatter glass.

"and you are?" though san says it calmly, there's an edge in his delivery that's testing hongjoong's endurance.

"someone that actually respects her enough to not follow her around like a creep."

san snickers from the comment, a smirk overtaking his face.

"you don't have to act all high and mighty when you're just sticking around for the chance to get laid," san snarks, the smugness and such childishness from a person making hongjoong see red, but he manages to contain himself.

"we're just friends, but you can think whatever you wanna think. something tells me you're dying to be in my position, though," hongjoong bites back, the smirk on san's lips slowly fading at the last remark.

because he's seen it, the way san looks at him and seonghwa with envy and resentment written all over him.

but despite the initial harshness of the encounter, san grew on hongjoong overtime and vice versa.

they weren't close by any means (mostly because you wouldn't have allowed it), but they were able to be within the same proximity and actually have a good time together; the young boy even sharing a few of his interests.

"yes, he likes you," hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. "why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?"

"but it doesn't make any sense."

you swear you're not that dense, but you mostly just didn't consider it because of the way san is. he did nothing but consistently went out of his way to irritate you, only until the whole yunho and your sister shenanigans did you start seeing a different side of him.

"plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?" just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san's place.

hongjoong thinks about it. he isn't san, but in comparison to you, he's had far more experiences when it comes to relationships and dating, so he can offer a theory or two.

"i can't say exactly because i'm not him, but my guess is, he doesn't see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren't together."

"but he's also dated people. he was in relationships," you tell hongjoong more passionately, as if demanding for an immediate explanation to this nonsense.

"people date and are in relationships with others they don't like or love all the time," he answers nonchalantly.

but it doesn't make you feel any better, nor did it answer anything.

"so he's just an asshole and this is a mistake?"

hongjoong sighs and face palms, shaking his head before recollecting himself.

"maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself."

you let his words linger in silence, picking your head up again when he speaks.

"anything else you wanna get off your chest?"

you bat your lashes and bite your lips before telling him, "i-i also might've told him i'm gonna be leaving for japan although i haven't notified my boss of the final decision, yet."

hongjoong tilts his head and quirks his lips to the side, about to say something when someone in the crowd calls out to him.

"yeah i'll be there in a quick sec!" he yells back.

"it's okay, you can go," you assure, appreciative of his time.

he nods. "yeah, i'm afraid i can't keep them waiting any longer. but hey, i hope you figure things out with san and reach out to me if you want. my number is still the same."

"for sure," you reply with a smile.

"but you good? think you can get home by yourself?" he asks worriedly.

"yeah, i'm good. i can call a cab."

"alright. safe trip," he says one last time before standing up, but you stop him midway with a soft call of his name before he can disappear from your sight.

"i'm sorry... for what i said and did that day," you tell him, looking and sounding as apologetic as one can be, because you truly are.

he doesn't say anything until a few seconds later, the blank expression turning into a softer smile.

"apology accepted. i'm also sorry for that day."

"apology accepted."

going off on your own without letting san know the real reason why might lead to one of the biggest mistakes you'll make. but you're not sure if going to his place right now is the right choice, either.

you make your way to the floor he's on, doing the best you can to shut out any images from the other day; standing in front of his door while your heart beats loudly into your ears and stalling even further to think of what he could be up to at 11 in the night.

he might be asleep, or he might not even be home--or there's a good chance he's relieving the stress of today's event the way you know he would, but you'd rather not think about it.

the press to the doorbell is slow and hesitant at first, but you ring it three times at least, standing still for a good minute; the anxiety and nervousness from before replaced by a strange disappointment that he actually really might not be home.

with a low sigh, you turn your back to the door in defeat, barely two steps out when it flings open behind you, bringing back the nervousness from before as you swallow down the knot.

"y/n?" he calls out, your back still to him.

and oh how comforted you are just to hear his voice again, even if it hasn't even been a full day since you two last talked.

you finally face him with batting lashes as you meet his eyes, seeing his hair is still wet and he has a towel hanging over his shoulder, he was probably in the shower when you came ringing.

"hey," you say quietly, your lips drawing a thin smile because this is really awkward. you've never been in this situation with san before, obviously.

"what are you doing here?" he asks softly. "i mean, not that i'm not relieved to see you, but just that... you know, what happened today." his voice thins out toward the end, like he isn't sure if he's supposed to be bringing it up this soon.

but you're glad he does.

"i-i want to talk to you about it... truthfully, this time," you tell him, biting back for a short second before continuing. "is it okay if i come in?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod. "yeah, of course." moving out of the way and widening the frame for you.

everything is and looks the same as last time you were here, duh, but the air is different. it could be due to the fight this evening, or that there's a clear change in your relationship with san and how you view him.

you don't know whether to stand or sit, fidgeting and watching san walk over and plop himself down on the sofa in front of you, a chuckle escaping him when he catches onto the sight.

"you just gonna stand the entire time, or?" he teases, prompting an eye roll in return as you sit down in the very same spot you've sat plenty of times before.

taking in his body language and treatment of you so far, you wonder if this is just how san is. that he copes in a way that seems as if nothing is really bothering him... or maybe he got over it, you don't know.

he seemed upset earlier, but anything can happen in a matter of hours.

the thickest silence enters only a moment after, and it's only fair you take the initiative since you came to find him, and it was also you that made it a problem in the first place.

"earlier," you start cautiously, "i wasn't in the right headspace at all."

you wait for a reaction from him before adding anything else, afraid you'll bombard him with too much at once.

"it's okay. i could tell something was bothering you, but it bothered me too because i could also tell you weren't being honest."

you almost wanna cower because just him saying it already makes you feel guilty.

"and a big decision like that doesn't get made overnight. you were fine the day before. something big must've had to happen for you to change your mind so quickly, right?" the way he stares so deeply as if searching for an answer; the desperation in his voice is felt and only worsening your guilt.

"yeah, something did happen," you say, not sure where to begin but beginning nonetheless.

his features twist, glaring at you with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.

"is it... about yunho?" he asks carefully.

san enjoys the time he spent with you; even more than he would have thought, and though you both didn't start off on the best path, he sees potentials in the relationship changing for the better--not even romantically (he don't know if that's possible), but to where you two could be friends for once in the 20 plus years you guys have known each other.

for a bit, it seemed like it was finally happening. but maybe in your head and heart, yunho will always occupy a special kind of space he cannot compete with, no matter how hard he tries.

"no," you answer, much to san's surprise, taking a long pause and then finally telling him what made you so upset that you considered moving across the sea. "i saw her when i was coming up to your place yesterday."

you have no idea how he's gonna to take it; if it's something to boost his ego or maybe he'll just laugh it off because it's actually so dumb, but you try to figure which is it gonna be, gaze never leaving his sight.

but san raises a brow as if trying to decipher what you mean, then it hits him.

"nari?" he squeaks.

yes, nari. the one you're sure is with him at most parties, and also probably the one he was with that one time you ran into him coming out of a bedroom looking all kinds of fucked up.

you've seen san with a variety of girls through the years, but she's easily the most recognizable.

san looks to still be in his thoughts, now attempting to piece together what is it about nari being here yesterday that could make you so upset.

and when you see his puzzled expression slowly replaced by a smirk that only gets bigger, you know he's figured it out.

"are you... perhaps, jealous?" he says, the slyest tone ever gracing your ears, raising the temperature on your cheeks as they probably burn a bright pink.

you're blushing because of choi san... just incredible.

when you're still to prideful to admit it, he gets off from where he was sitting and shamelessly throws himself down next to you, making you scoot over as a reflex, but he goes out of his way to close the space between you two.

he's so close now, face merely inches away and pestering you to answer while you refuse to meet his eyes.

"you were jealous, right?" he tilts his head, tone annoying but also flirty.

"shut up," you spit, finally facing him and able to pick up his natural scent from this angle, you actually can't believe you'd even think about how attractive he looks in a moment like this.

his showered hair, bare face, and the proximity that makes the scene much more intimate--

"it's not funny," you add, because the smirk isn't leaving him at all, and now he's laughing, too.

"it's only because i think you're cute," he says, now suddenly swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in even closer. "like i swear, you didn't give a rat ass about me less than two months ago. did i finally win your heart?"

it feels like he's deflecting, so you try your best to ignore the antics, persisting with all seriousness, "so are you gonna explain yourself?" you haven't cracked a smile even once.

the bigger grin on his face mellows out into a softer smile.

"we didn't do anything," he says calmly, much to a silence from you because you're hoping he has more to say than that, which he does. "i had her over because i wanted to talk to her about something."

"like... what?"

he snickers at such coyness that you're doing an awful job at hiding.

"that i think it's best me and her stop whatever we had going on."

you can only blink because it's not exactly the response you were expecting, asking in a low voice, "and why is that so?"

"because i had a good feeling about you, and that you were gonna stay."

it turns so quiet after, you think you can hear the footsteps littering outside the hall; san's answer making you feel all sorts of way, you're not sure how to react.

"i'm sorry," you finally say out loud, the look on san unchanging even through all of this. "it was just overwhelming in the moment and it was as if nothing could make it better... especially after everything."

"it's fine," he assures. "i just can't believe you made such a life-changing decision because of that. is it too late to take it back?" he's a mixture of being absolutely serious and half laughing.

"yeah, about that... i, uh, i haven't told my boss, yet."

because it is big, and it is life-changing, and maybe you were hoping there could be something else that could convince you to stay.

san stares at you in disbelief before he cracks out a chuckle again, shaking his head.

"you're crazy," he mumbles, the comment prompting an eye roll from you.

"you scared me so much," san goes on. "i don't know what i would've done if you really left."

there's a brief stare-off before you blank and move your gaze to the coffee table at the end of your feet, mind suddenly drawing back to the encounter with hongjoong.

"i ran into hongjoong before i came here," you tell him, his head perking with interests. "i was drinking and he came in with his group of music junkies."

san only listens, giving you the space to talk until you ask of him yourself.

"you know what he told me?"

"what?"

you chuckle lightly before you can even get the words out; san watching in amusement and pondering as to what you could find so funny.

"he said that you have liked me for a long time," you say, no longer afraid to look him in the eyes while your heart beats silently but loud to your own ears, hongjoong's words replaying in your head while you await a response.

“maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself.”

san quirks his lips to the side and shrugs half-heartedly, his relaxed manner tells you he's just teasing you but honestly, san can be hard to read.

then he finally answers, after you're about to open your big mouth again, "i guess that's why i never liked being around hongjoong much, even if he's cool... the guy can be too observant."

he pretty much confirms it without saying so, a part of you relieved and then another now realizing you're gonna have to carry the conversation and decide what you wanna do with this... information. if you even have to do anything.

"since when?" you ask, just a little curious and wondering.

he hums and removes the arm that was around your shoulders this entire time to cross it with his other one as his back falls to the couch.

"to be honest, it comes and goes. but the very first time i remember liking you was actually when i first met you."

even at the age of nine, he thought you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. the way you dressed and the way you always did your hair, putting it in a high ponytail or a bun; and the way you liked to wear red and black most of the times made it easy to pick you out.

he was too young at the time and didn't know how to go about having a crush on someone, so he might've done a thing or two to piss you off, and it also didn't help that you were an emo ass kid as hard-headed as a rock.

you didn't just treat him that way, but also everybody else. everybody except yunho.

he loves his brother and has more than a civil relationship with him now, but he just never really understood what was it about yunho that made him so special to you.

"i mean, of course, you were mean as hell, but it's complicated," he adds, shaking his head and snickering quietly at the fact.

but you're more fixated on something else he just said, reiterating, "it comes and goes as in... sometimes you would like me and sometimes you wouldn't?"

“yes, he likes you,” hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. “why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?”

“but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?” just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san’s place.

"i guess you can put it that way?" his voice raises in pitch, as if unsure himself. "it's quite difficult to put in words."

"make me understand," you state in all seriousness.

because again, your biggest doubt when it comes to san is his ability to commit to you and only you. even if you wanna believe him, and he's proven himself the past couple of months that he can surprise you in good ways, what happened with yunho and your sister might've instilled some newfound trauma and trust issues.

you watch as he catches his breath and seems to linger on his thoughts for a few seconds more.

he starts, "there were times i really liked you, the feelings can be quite intense. like that one time when we both were dazed as hell and we kissed, it felt surreal. or whenever i think you look super hot in a certain outfit, the feeling also creeps up again. i also enjoy our banters, and pretty much any time we have a somewhat normal interaction, i would also get it."

you listen attentively with your stomach and chest doing something funny just hearing san speak about you this way.

"then there would be those times... times where you would annoy me and i'd think you're a total bitch. like when you insulted me in front of my friends or just the way you'd always flop around yunho like he's jesus or something. plus, my feelings and the chances of it actually happening are two different things, so it not being an exclusive relationship overall made it easy for me to do whatever i want."

“i can’t say exactly because i’m not him, but my guess is, he doesn’t see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren’t together.”

hongjoong pretty much got it spot on, and you suppose san doesn't owe you any allegiance. that would be ridiculous.

"well that's good to know," is all you say, still trying to process everything.

"what about you?" he asks coyly. "when did you start liking me?"

the question takes you aback, always so bold and daring, but now only staring back like a little deer caught in headlights.

"probably when i was most desperate, i don't know," you joke, a chuckle bubbling out of san. "no, but really, i think it's just when you were there for me when i needed someone the most."

you almost wanna cower because just talking about such a thing with san makes you feel cringe and embarrassed, and he sees it all over your face.

"that's nice to hear." he smiles, the sight pleasant to look at; the genuine happiness on him because you're saying so many nice things about him tonight.

there's a quick pause as you both think of what to say next, knowing what kind of questions and conversation usually follows, but not wanting to be the first to say it.

"so are you gonna be staying?" he changes subject, because you might not wanna get to that part, yet.

your eyes sparkles with something mischievous and playful, answering him, "well, i don't have much reasons to leave now, do i?"

he smirks and nods.

"yeah, i guess you don't." his tone changes the next and sounding much serious. "i was happy to see that it was you at the door. i was afraid this evening could've been our last meeting."

the reminder brings back a pang of guilt as you feel yourself shrinking on the couch.

"again, i'm sorry. just still trying to learn how to deal my emotions... efficiently at least."

"no, i understand. in the end, you came back and made up for it."

"i did." you smile lightly. you couldn't have done it without hongjoong.

there's a comfortable silence before san exhales and turns his head toward the kitchen, then back to you.

"have you eaten?"

you shake your head. "no, but i'm good. i should probably get back. i don't wanna be late to work tomorrow."

"i can drive you back, if you don't mind."

given you don't look like you're in the best condition, and along with a rosy scent he's always known you by, there's a whisk of alcohol that you've even admitted to, though you surprisingly look and sound more than coherent.

--

the car ride is quiet but comfortable as you both let the music fill the air. some songs you don't recognize, but it does goes perfectly with the night as san weaves through lanes a little too fast--something you'd probably yell at him for if you were in a more sober state of mind.

but tonight has gone so well and you don't wanna take any chances of ruining it.

he parks just right outside the gate of your parents place, unlocking the doors and snapping to you.

"here it is," he says.

"you not gonna go say hi to your parents or yunho?" you tease, considering his parents place and family is just next door.

"nah." he shakes his head. "it's too late, and i'm sure they already know i love them."

you smile and unbuckle your seatbelt. "alright."

he nods, and you both just sit there for a moment too long; the unspoken words and uncertainty as equally bothering to you as it is to him, but you're not sure how to bring it up.

you just know you don't wanna end the night without talking about it, at least.

"hey," you say softly, your voice quiet and blending into the night while san doesn't look away from you one bit. "i, uhm... i'll think about it, okay? i mean, if you want me to."

you're stammering and sounding the most awkward you've been all night (which is a feat), that san can't help but to laugh it off. and he knows you're not talking about the decision to stay.

"yeah, of course. take your time. you know i'll be here," he assures, always having a way to make you feel secure and listened to.

"i appreciate it," you mumble, sending him one last smile, about ready to head out. "thank you by the way."

he returns the smile and nods. "no problem."

"i'll get going then," you say, opening the door halfway and about to leave, but instead taking a deep breath as you turn to san, which surprises him.

he blinks in bewilderment. "did you--"

then it happens. a quick peck to his lips before pulling away to his stunned gaze, backing yourself out of the car and giggling.

"goodnight," you coo teasingly, shutting the door and waving him off.

it's crazy how just a week ago, there was a chance you were gonna be flying across the sea to go live in another country.

how much more sad and unhappy you felt; as if that was your only option left. but now already feeling two times better with your future looking a little more than just bleak.

you have surely told your boss you're gonna stay; the news a relief to him because it would cost a lot more resources having to find a replacement, as well as provide the proper training.

and you have surely talked to the landlord of the complex you were seeking a while ago that you're gonna take the place, after which she so kindly walked you through all the steps and what documents you needed to provide.

you just finished going over the contract with her the day prior, and all you need to do now is pay the deposit.

you should be able to move in by friday, she said.

when you told your family about the move, you weren't surprised they didn't seem to care all that much--your parents, at least. minjeong visibly took the news a lot harder.

even if you guys didn't have the best relationship growing up and aren't that close even now, the house's gonna feel a lot more empty now, she said. she's gotten used to you being around for more than 20 years now.

but you think a part of your parents are just relieved to finally have you out of the house and start life on your own after being with them for so long. you'd rather think of it that way, but after all, not like it's gonna matter all that much when you are moved out.

you also swallowed your pride and finally reached out to both hongjoong and seonghwa again (you're still a tad ashamed by the events that followed even if hongjoong had given you the green light).

you all have set up a time and place to meet up next month when you all should be available, so that's something to look forward to.

san has been helping you window shop for furnitures, recommending which he thinks is best based on his experiences and whatnot, though you made sure you tell him you want interior as minimalistic as possible.

clean and just overall simple.

you'll be moving most of the things from your current room to the new one, taking your bed that's an actual necessity with, so you'll worry about actually purchasing furnitures when you're finally moved into the place.

as for things with san, it's always a gamble regarding what's gonna go down whenever you do hang out with him.

on some occasions, he'd act completely normal and treat you as a friend similar to before. then more than half the time, he'd flirt and bring up the peck from a week ago, but never going further than that.

you feel as if you're both currently pushing and pulling and playing a game of who's gonna crack first.

"tomorrow," you tell san over the phone, currently ripping everything from posters to every pieces of decorations that might've been there since you were in high school, off of your walls.

it took a day later than expected to process all the paperworks and everything, but you finally received a call earlier that you can finally move in tomorrow on saturday.

yunho must've heard about it from your sister or san, because you definitely did not tell him nor have you even talked to him in a while. but he texted you this morning if you needed any help with the move, to which you kindly declined though thanked him for the offer.

he asked how you were doing and you said you were doing better. that you're excited to finally have your own place and for what's to come after that.

you and san seems close lately, you recall one of his texts at the top of your head.

yeah, a little, you responded.

"i'll be there, definitely," san replies back. "anything for you, my dear."

you grimace at the pet name and scoffs.

"and who said you can call me that?" you throw the things you've managed to gather into the cardboard box on the floor.

"don't act like you don't like it. anyway, i'll be there at 8 a.m. sharp."

"for what you just said, make that 7."

before you can end the call, you hear his laughter from the other line.

--

"and i want the t.v. stand over here... no! over here!" you talk to yourself, pointing to exact spots and ponder just how you want everything to be.

"a little help?" san's voice come from behind you, muffled by the box he's carrying until he plops it down near the kitchen, all out of breath.

"you're a big boy, you got it," you brush off the complaint, walking back to the bedroom and seeing your mattress flat on the floor, already huffing at the thought of having to build the bed frame back up again.

you hear the shut of the front door, san's voice piercing into the bedroom.

"that should be the last of it. for today at least."

you turn to head back into the living room, barely making it through the doorway when you thump against his chest, rubbing your forehead after as you look up at him.

"don't i get something for helping you out?" he says, tone sly and cunning, you don't even wanna admit what it does to your heart.

he's been doing this a lot more often--say things with the slightest innuendos behind them just to get a reaction out of you. or maybe he's trying to see how far he can push now that there's been a change of dynamic. kind of.

but you remain unfazed by his comment, keeping your ground and telling him, "if you come by later, i'll make dinner for you in return."

he looks over your shoulder to the unfinished bedroom.

"don't you need help with the bed frame?"

you shake your head. "i got it. plus, i've bothered you enough for today, so i'll let you go for now."

"i don't mind staying to help."

"no. i need some time to settle in. and, we still got a lot more work to do tomorrow."

he hesitates, but eventually gives in. that it's more about you needing this time to yourself; in a new environment and finally a place to call your own.

"alright. but if you need me, call me."

"i will."

he walks to the door as you follow behind, holding the door open for him while he now lingers in the hallway facing you.

"i'll come by later, though. i'm not forgetting that."

you chuckle and lightly roll your eyes.

"yeah, of course. and bring a drink or two. we'll celebrate."

"for you finally having your own place."

"for me finally having my own place," you repeat, a smile on your lips mirroring san's.

you spend most of the day setting up the bedroom and assembling the bed frame, thankfully remembering where everything goes from the top of your head because you threw out the instructions maybe five years ago.

you unbox everything and attempt to place the decorations where you think they look best for now, shoving all the empty boxes into a corner after for the next morning when you'll have to take out the trashes.

the living room is empty. no couches, no nothing because you haven't bought anything; the area for now only consisting of a rug and a small table you brought from your previous room because you and san need somewhere to sit and eat on.

when you're sure you're done with all the unboxing for the day, you run for the grocery store just around the corner, grabbing a pot, a pan, other essentials, then the ingredients.

it's almost 5 in the afternoon by the time you start cooking, and though it's been a long day, something about it feels accomplishing. being by yourself, cooking in your own apartment and not having to worry about anything else.

it might be too soon to say, but you think you've made the right choice.

as the stew's just about to be done, there's a knock at the door that you happily skip to, flinging the frame open to no one other than san with a plastic bag around one of his arms.

"hey," you greet.

"hey," he returns, taking it upon himself to walk in as if it's his own home, a strong aroma hitting his nose immediately. "wow, it smells good in here."

"i did say i was gonna cook," you say, shutting the door.

"yes, and i brought a drink or two just like you said." he wiggles the bag in his arm, then peeking over the pot boiling on the stove. "whatchu' cooking?"

"kimchi stew," you answer. "but i also bought some ramen just in case."

"that's perfect," he says, walking over and setting down the bag of drinks onto the floor just right next to the small table.

"sorry. i'm still working on getting a dining set." you half chuckle at the sad sight of the current setup.

"this will do."

he works on setting the drinks: two simple bottle of sojus he got on the way here because tonight isn't about having fun or whatever. he wants it to be meaningful, maybe even sweet.

you place the still hot stew in the middle, going back to the kitchen to grab two small bowls and utensils, handing him his and finally able to rest peacefully across from him while the steam from the pot blocks your view of each other.

"so how is it so far?" he asks, being the one to start.

"good," you answer, the same time you go in with a spoon for a taste test.

"feels nice, doesn't it? like you have all the freedom in the world." san does the same, his eyes lighting up when he's able to digest the flavor. "wow. you're amazing, y/n."

you can't help but roll your eyes, still trying to slowly settle into the way he'd just casually compliment you with such sincereness.

"i'm glad you think so. but yes, it is like as if i have all the freedom in the world. for now, at least." you chuckle, and he follows shortly after.

"in a month or so, let me know how you feel again."

you nod to his words, the next minute an air of silence as you both busy yourself with the food and drink.

it's more than past 6, the sky outside turning a darker color and painting the neighborhood more empty.

you're just about done with swallowing the portion of your food when a thought crosses, being the one to start speaking again.

"were you the one who told yunho i was moving?"

he looks up from his bowl at that with blinking eyes, placing it down on the table and shakes his head, his mouth still full.

"why would i do that? then i'd have competitions for who's gonna help you move in."

you laugh at that, placing your utensils down and resting your hands on your lap.

"how's yunho?" you ask, because even if you don't wanna think about it, yunho has been a part of your life. someone you clung onto for a large chunk of it, and it wouldn't be realistic if you were completely over it within just the span of a few months.

you no longer want to be with him, and you no longer think of the what ifs, but it does sting and ache a little when the reminder of the events comes up once in a while.

still, you wouldn't change anything and any regrets you've had, you feel you've already made amends with; only hoping to not make any more.

"he's been doing good," san answers. "the best i've seen from him in a while."

you smile, mumbling, "that's good to hear."

you don't know if you could ever say it to your sister, but for what it is-- whether good or bad, they deserve each other. yunho and her.

they've always been more alike and compatible than you and yunho could ever be and it was something you struggled accepting for the longest time.

"what about you? how are you doing?" san questions, catching your gaze in his. "i know it hasn't been easy."

because san acknowledges it, too. how much yunho meant to you. that you used to see nothing and no one else but only yunho.

"better," you assure, a soft and comforting smile on your lips while you pause and hold the exact words you want to say, letting it go when you feel most ready. "better because of you."

you see san swallowing and his food and the chopsticks he was previously holding now forgotten on the table as he continues giving you his full attention.

"you were there for me when i needed someone the most, and you're still here for me. i don't know..." you practically murmur the last part, shaking your head and chuckling quietly, "i liked yunho a lot because it seemed he was the first person who accepted me for who i am."

you sound like a broken record at this point, but talking about it--your feelings, and especially to san helps you understand it better.

"i was too stupid and uncaring in the eyes of my parents, and too odd and indecipherable in the eyes of everyone else. kind of ironic, isn't it? i hated the fact people judged me without knowing me when i, too, judged you without knowing enough of you."

san listens and he knows this is it. you're pouring all of your heart out with nothing left to hide, whether it's things you've already said or haven't.

you ramble on, "i mean, i always thought some of them might end up liking me if they got to know me, and then that turned out to be true for you, too. i got to know more about you and i do like you..."

san feels his heart caving in, wondering if this might be it as well. a moment he's been waiting so long to happen but unsure if you wanted it as soon and as much as he does.

"is this a confession?" he tries his best for it to come out as light hearted as possible, an attempt to conceal just how on edge he actually is.

there's a pause before you answer, shaky voice and all. "i guess so."

but san doesn't celebrate his victory too early, yet; a "but" coming out of you quick enough to stop him.

"i'm just afraid," you finally admit to him the very thing weighing you down, and why even though you like him, you're just the slightest skeptical actually doing something about it.

"what are you afraid of?" he asks concernedly, desperate to resolve all and any doubts you have.

you take a short breath. "just the entire thing with yunho... i keep fearing the same thing will happen. when i texted you that night that i was going to japan, it wasn't just because i was jealous, but also because it made me realize if i was only replacing yunho with you. i know that's not the case because what i feel for you is different from what i felt for yunho, but i still can't shake it off."

you're talking so fast, you don't even catch the exact moment san's already moved from across you to right beside you, taking your hands into his and looking you in the eyes.

"i promise you that what happened with yunho won't happen with me," he says, passion in his voice wishing for you to believe him. "i will make sure it won't."

and you do want to believe him. end all the doubts and skepticism here, but you also wanna be honest.

"but the way you are, san... it makes it hard for me even if i wanna believe you. you change girls like you change your underwear. how would i know for sure giving this a chance won't be a mistake?"

you can feel the way san tenses up at the harsher words, maybe a hint of hurt in his dull eyes, but he gathers himself rather quickly for his turn.

"i understand. i don't blame you given i don't exactly have the best track record, and i don't know for sure if this is gonna be a mistake, but i do wanna give it a chance... if you want, of course."

he takes a short pause before continuing, "i've never been with two girls at once, and i always broke things off if i don't see it working out. and if i don't want anything serious, i let them know. but i've never felt the way i'm feeling for you right now for anyone else, ever, and it's something that i'm sure of the more i'm with you."

you blink at that, your stomach tightening and breath shallow, the scene much more intense and real than the first night when you two first talked about this mutual interest.

"i always thought that it was because we grew up together, and that definitely played some part, but i also grew up with minjeong and never really felt anything particular about her. i do like you a lot, so let the decision be in your hand whether you want more out of this or not. you already know my answer."

his grip on your hands has become looser with time, the food and drink now long forgotten, the only thing in your mind is the way he's looking at you and how important your next few words are.

"we can give it a try," you slowly and quietly answer, watching san's pupils go wide as he breaks out into a wide smile after.

"thank you," he manages to say calmly and coolly despite his body feeling anything but that.

he places a kiss to the top of your hand, prompting you to pull away in fake disgust and a laughter.

"i guess dreams do come true after all," he jokes, another one that makes you roll your eyes, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.

"well i'm gonna go wash my dishes," you attempt to switch the subject, grabbing your bowl and untensils and head for the kitchen.

san quirks an eyebrow and raises his voice from his seat.

"but there's still so much food left." he stares at the amount left, then back to you, getting off the floor himself to follow behind, watching as you turn on the faucet and completely ignore him.

"oh i know what this is." he smirks, overtaking your hand and turning off the faucet, finally getting a reaction out of you as you snap your neck his way. "you're shy."

you blink, swallowing a quick knot and shake your head.

"i'm not," you say, turning back to aim for the faucet, but san beats you again, a stare-off ensuing with amusement written all over his eyes.

"you are. is it because it's weird we're practically girlfriend and boyfriend now?" he tilts his head.

hearing the terms out loud definitely is weird, you can't even deny the fact, instead nodding your head that gets a snicker out from san.

"yeah, it's gonna take some time for sure." he smiles, and the volume and tone at which he says it almost like he's trying to seduce you.

you've just realized how sensual and close you guys are at this angle. your back against the sink and chest basically rubbing his own as he's cornered you into this state, gawking down at you with a look that makes you wanna cower.

the quietest air goes by with his head only lowering each second, and you realize it, too, that you wanna kiss him just as bad.

with a close of your eyes, his lips is on yours the next, still at first, then slowly moving in an attempt to find the perfect rhythm until you respond.

your hands find itself resting on the counter of the sink as the kiss makes your back dig into the edge. it isn't messy nor done sloppily despite how long san's been waiting for the moment again.

it's rather clean but passionate, giving san a kick back to the night he got to taste you for the first time even if you both weren't in the right state of minds, but it's one he doesn't forget easily.

both his grip has made way to rest at your hips, giving it a light squeeze and it doesn't take long for your arms to come up and around his shoulders, the scene taking a quick turn and you feel yourself losing your breath with each passing second.

when you both finally pull away, you nor san know how many minutes has gone by, only that his hair is already messy and tangled when you haven't even done much to it, and you're still trying to catch your breath.

you're the first to break into a small giggle with san following after, his grip still at your hips and your arms still around his shoulders.

"wow. that kiss already made me hard as a rock," san blurts, breaking the immersion as you roll your eyes.

"yeah, i can tell," you reply, shifting your legs slightly because the entire time, san's boner was pressing down on it.

he laughs shamelessly, proceeding to press only harder because he likes seeing your reaction, and he takes it you're fine with it because you're no longer fighting it.

"tell me, are you the type to have sex first date?" he asks, his head slightly tilted and honestly looking so attractive.

"not really," you answer. "but is this really a first date?" you say it with the tiniest slyness and coyness, a lot of initial hesitation but when you really think about it, there's no reason to not sleep with san at this point.

especially at your age and with the little experiences you have, it's about time. beside, you always hear it's good to know and discover your sexual chemistry with someone in the early stages, because often than not, incompatibilities in that regard can destroy a relationship perfectly fine in other aspects.

"you're right." san smirks, causing a small squeak from you when he snakes his arms aroud your butt suddenly and lifts you onto the counter, but you stop him before he can do anything else.

"wait. can we do this in the bedroom instead? i'd just prefer my kitchen to be, you know... clean, since this is where i cook."

he laughs, catching the way your eyelashes would flutter cutely and nods his head, helping you down onto the floor again.

"thanks," you say, barely able to fix the wrinkles of your pants when he grabs your wrist and leads you to the bedroom, proceeding to throw you down on the bed the softest he can as he hovers over you.

the current position a bit unreal because san never really thought it would happen.

"just out of curiosity," san starts, "have you ever slept with yunho?"

you bite your lower lip and shake your head. "never any penetrations. he always said that should wait till marriage."

it's not that you didn't wanna sleep with yunho, but the other way around it seems. and now you know why.

san quirks his lips to the side and accepts the answer.

"if i did, would you not want to sleep with me anymore?" you ask just for the sake of his response, mirth in your eyes and amusement hanging by your tongue.

he cranks an eyebrow and actually thinks about it.

"that would be kind of nasty, i'm not gonna lie," he says, much to a laughter in response. "so i'm glad that's not the case."

"yeah, thankfully," you say after, teasing him slightly.

the both of you stay still for a few seconds more before san takes it as a sign to lower his lips again to capture yours for another kiss.

he lets his body fall on top of yours gently, his weight heavy but nice as you're comforted by the warmth of his skin that makes you feel even closer to him.

you hear and feel him shift, lifting his left arm off the bed to find the end of your shirt and bury his fingers underneath to where the bare of your skin is.

you can't help the low whimper at the sensation of his fingers crawling on your skin and making way to where your bra is, flinching just the slightest when his entire hand cups the shape of your breast.

he breaks the kiss to look down at your already messy state, whispering, "always wanted to know how these felt." the comment making you bite at your lower lip again, something so alluring about the way he says it.

you take it upon yourself to sit up, san removing his hand to watch you undress your top, the way you do it so sensually and almost teasingly like a scene straight from some porn video.

he's almost too into the sight, he forgets you're actually in front of him all flesh and bones, until you've already rid of everything and calling his name.

your titties out and spilling, the actual thing better than he could have imagined. better than all those times he'd spend trying to make them out and just picture how your actual breasts look.

"fuck, you're so hot, y/n," he hiss, the frustration on him makes you giggle before he latches on with both his hands and takes a dive, one nipple in his mouth and the other one being fondled with.

a moan escapes your mouth at the wetness of his tongue circling one of your nipples, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling and holding back an even louder moan when he squeezes your other one.

it goes on for a few minute at least; how he switches back and forth between your breasts and hand always on the other to make sure it's not neglected, whether he's groping it or playing with it.

"san," you call his name, his eyes shooting up to look at you with lips red from the service. you don't say anything, instead calmly getting on your knees and breaking the contact with san as he tries to guess your next move.

your gaze moves to his crotch area and he gets the message instantly, smirking in return.

he spreads his legs merrily as you crawl closer, one last look of exchange before you reach for the hem of his shorts, pulling it down along his boxer underneath just enough for his hard cock to spring itself out, his length sitting straight up and making you swallow a knot.

he adjusts himself enough for you to sit yourself between his legs, gaining the perfect access to do what you need to do.

with a careful grip, his cock is in your hold as you're stroking it up and down, observing the sight of him rolling his eyes and looking just so hot; all the more reasons you wanna have sex with him.

he isn't too long in length, but his girth is quite thick and just enough for you.

you get ready to take him in, lowering your head each passing second and stroking it faster until your tongue licks over the tip of his cock and he releases the sexiest moan ever as a result.

one of your hands still grip the rest of his cock while your mouth stays on the tip of it until you're there long enough, tilting your head to lick the side and and coating every inch of it before starting from the top again and taking his entire length in the best you can.

there's tears in your eyes the lower you go, but you also know just when to stop, coming back up just below the tip and going down again, repeating the action until you see san is a groaning mess of pleasure.

nothing but "fuck" comes out of his mouth, his right hand having found itself on a bundle of your hair, helping and guiding you as you give him the blowjob of his life.

he lets go and you pull away after some time, both of you huffing and puffing, smiles crossing your lips when both your eyes meet.

"jesus, you suck cock like you've done it a thousand times before," he comments, because his own is still recovering.

you sucked his cock as if yunho wasn't your only sexual experience.

but you only smirk and shrug, replying mischievously, "i have my ways."

he doesn't have time to think about that right now, though. all he wanna do is be inside of you. fuck you into the mattress and make you feel so good, and he's glad you feel the same with how you're already wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down as your back hits the sheet.

he kisses your accepting lips once more before breaking it to ask you, "you ready?" to which you nod and already starts pushing at the hem of your own pants, san helping you when he catches on, thrusting it until it's off all the way with you kicking it onto the floor.

san catches the light pink lace panties you have on, smiling to himself not long before you also throw that off, now left in nothing but to feel the most naked you have ever been in the presence of someone else.

you can feel san's length brushing the inside of your thighs and it only makes you wanna speed up the process, telling him you're ready.

he creeps his fingers to your opening to prep you up, sticking two in and the wetness already coating him that instant while a low grunt escapes your lips.

he takes it out with a pop and you pant, watching as he gives it a once over on his tongue, clearing all residues off his fingers before gripping his cock for your entrance.

it's suddenly as if you've forgotten how to breathe while you just wait for that delicious and burning stretch, groaning when you feel the tip enter, already leaning your head back as you squint your eyes.

then instantaneously and surprisingly, san shoves in his entire cock, the loudest moan yet leaving you and shortly accompanied by a passionate, "shit!" your arms digging into his shoulders already as you try getting used to the feeling.

your collection of dildos and vibrators nothing compared to the real thing as your back arches when he starts moving.

he thinks you look so sexy like this. under him and taking his cock so well. he'll fuck you, and he'll fuck you good for all those times back then when you'd always say you'd never fuck him.

for all those times you'd hurl insults his way and act as if you don't even wanna be in the same room as him.

but he's going to fuck you good, too, because he wanna love you. he wanna be with you and show you the love he's capable of; hoping this is a start.

he buries his face into your neck while he fucks into you, getting grunts and moans in response and he doesn't stop until he feels himself about to come, removing himself from your neck and hair to see the pleasure overtaking your face; a light smirk on your lips and eyes rolled back.

"i'm gonna pull out, okay, baby?" he whispers into your ear that you nod to, placing a kiss to your cheek after and getting up, pulling out of you and leaving your inside so empty now that you've come to love the feeling.

he pumps his cock a few times before shooting his load onto your stomach, your gaze fixated on it before he grabs both your legs and hangs it over his shoulders, going on to scoot you closer with a grip of your waist.

you're not sure what he's gonna do until you feel his warm fingers rubbing over the entrance of your vagina.

"can't leave you hanging," he says simply, his middle finger especially running up and down, then he slowly enters it along with his index as the sensation comes back even if not as fulfilling as his cock.

he keeps thrusting until your wall closes in on his fingers and a look of euphoria crosses your expression, pulling out sloppily and throwing his body down next to yours while you're still trying to catch your breath.

"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving a strand of hair covering your eyes behind your ear.

"good," you answer. "and you?"

"the best i've been in a while."

you both enjoy the temporary silence with the occasional breathing of the other person, staring back at the each other for what feels like a long time and a smile on both your lips.

san finally sits up and blinks down at you, offering a hand.

"let's go get cleaned up, and make sure you pee."

a relationship with san isn't gonna come without problems and challenges, but you suppose love is all about giving it a chance and putting efforts into it, and you wanna put all you've got and see where this goes.

a/n: welp, girls or boys... i am not happy with it but i'm glad it's over lol. (taglist gonna look mad weird bc it was being a bitch / apology to anyone who got tagged like twice. also removed lots of ppl who deactivated)

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cherrychristie @softie00 @crimson-mia

@hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa

@justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi

@fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @diorwoo @devilsmatches

@kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch

@sannwa @brown88 @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps

@sankatchu @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @woojirang @revehosh

@byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie

@shakalakaboomboo

@yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny

@svintsandghosts @kkayfan @arinyyy

@nevieatiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@nescaffei @vixensss @santineez

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hello! I saw your post saying that you accept requests and mostly for Hawks rn. As u can tell from my username I LOVE this man, so I was thinking if you can write something about the reader using the Safeword during the act with him? Maybe he hurt her without meaning to? And it turns all fluffy with aftercare! You can ignore this if you want and I honestly don't even know if Im writing this in the right place or not it's my first time sorryyy 😭

Aftercare - Hawks x reader drabble

Author's note: Sorry this took so long haha, been busy with life. But!! I loved this idea! I love writing fluffy and doting Keigo. ALSO, here is my link if you want to support me financially <3 It's totally not necessary but money is super tight right now and I desperately need to get out of my household :|

Warnings: Mentions of sex (PIV), slight cursing, mdni. Reader is afab. Not thoroughly proofread

Sex with Keigo was always amazing, extraordinary even. You were lucky that you landed a partner as dutifully devoted to you and your pleasure as Keigo. Instead of giving yourself to some selfish prick whose love was dependent on how well you sucked their dick and how readily you were to spread your legs, you freely let Keigo’s soft touch, warm smiles, and protectiveness melt your heart. 

He often spent nights in between your thighs without so much as taking off his work pants, without expecting anything in return. His lips and fingers worked orgasm after orgasm from you. Your hands gently intertwine with his as he drags his thick cock against your sensitive walls, whispering murmurs of praise, light teasing, and - most importantly - consent checks. Keigo mentioned more than once that your enthusiastic consent made his dick dripping wet with precum. 

All of these facts did not aid the cognitive dissonance in your mind though  as he mercilessly pounded into you, his breath hitching every time he bottomed out; it was so rough it hurt, body haphazardly molded into whatever shape he pleased. The breeding season always heightened his sex drive. He needed this. What kind of partner would you be if you put your own needs in front of his own? 

So you did your best to take the ruthless pounding. Tears dripped down your cheeks. The taste of blood filling your senses as you bite your lip. 

“F-fuck, such a good slut for me, hm?” He rasps. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you’re pregnant.”

Deep breath. 

You could do this

Another deep breath.

You could do this.

And…

You…really can’t do this. 

“K-kei s-stop, ‘s too much …” your voice was too weak and breathy for your liking. “H-hawks”

Keigo’s hips jutted to a stop, half of himself inside you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Earlier in your relationship, both of you decided on his hero name as a safe word. There was a strict detachment between Keigo’s hero work and normal life, so much so that he detested being called Hawks in your shared home. 

It took another moment for him to understand what happened, the lust fogging his mind pattering away. “Shit, baby…” he slowly pulled the rest of himself out of your spent hole, your body flinching. “Songbird, are you okay?”

As much as you tried to speak, your tongue was like lead, throat filled with cotton. Your sobs sounded more akin to choked babbles. The tears dripping down your face was more than enough though to clue Keigo in. 

“M’sorry” You managed. “S-so sorry, I-i know ‘s your rut but-“

Keigo cut you off with a gentle kiss, his feathers swiftly taking over all your senses as he rolled you into his warm arms. “You did so good for me, love. You don’t need to be sorry. Doesn’t matter if I’m in rut or not,” he pressed another light kiss on the crown of your forehead, “your safety and happiness is top priority.” 

“I wanted to do good for you” you mumbled. “You always take care of me…just wanted to do the same…”

“And you did, songbird.” He titled your chin so he can gaze into you directly. His eyes were always sharp like daggers, but when you stared at him all you saw was his adoration. “I promise it’s not even a big deal. I don’t want you thinking that just because it’s breeding season that I can do whatever I want to you.” 

Keigo’s thumb worked to wipe away the remnants of your tears, cooing praise until the saturation made you giggle. Gentle kisses were frequently exchanged. He failed to mention how this time of the year made him extra doteful. 

“Here, let’s run you a bath, yeah? I’ll start it and fetch you some water, okay baby? You just stay there and be pretty for me, let me take care of you.”

[tixdixl]

🌹🎈🥩

Maybe for Oisin and Kingsley? Or whoever's shouting "ASK ME!" in your brain :-3

Oooh!!! These are fun! Thank you!!

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

Kingsley is aromantic~ lol. He is in the painful place of quoiromantic where he is not capable of experiencing romantic love. However, he finds out thanks to a couple of folks that he is willing to be on the receiving end so long as he is not expected to reciprocate those feelings.

Also I need you to know... the moment you asked, my dullahan emerged looking like this:

Oisín is such a hopeless romantic and has only ever fallen in love with one person. But they could give you a long list of what all they love about Lilia Vanrouge.

Personality is huge for them. As is the sense of humor. Being demisexual, those things and how they mesh with them are incredibly huge.

That said though, they love a partner who could absolutely snap their neck metaphorically. One who is willing to take the time to get to know how their existence works and would be as much of a threat to them as they are to their partner. They dont like the idea of a power differential- unless that differential is created willingly. And the realest thing? Is that they are happiest when both their partner and they themself are capable of being strong on their own and also in the presence of each other.

They love a partner who is willing to exist and be and live with them, with no regrets or shame. They are a hopeless romantic, and thus would love a partner who would be willing to things as they hit them. They love a partner who would willingly receive their affections as their heart and the moment carry them- and a partner who would reciprocate that energy. To dance in the rain; to hold their partner until they fell asleep in their arms; to go on little outtings sporatically and with or even without any plan. To live in the moment as though no one else in the world exists.

They love having a partner who they can reflect like the moon reflects the light of the sun.

🎈 (balloon) - What does your character do at parties? Are they a wallflower or a party animal? Do they go with friends or alone?

Kingsley canonically refuses to participate in the theatrical performance during GloMas. He refuses to dance. He refuses to enjoy the festivities because that motherfucker tried to almost kill everyone and got off scott free. In general though, he really isnt much of a party goer. The only real party he actively like... participates in is his coorination celebration way after he graduates and thats kind of because his found family won't let him be a wallflower.

Oisín is shy at like... parties where there are a lot of folks they don't know. In particular, they dont go to parties unless they are going with someone they know. But if its like... a party where everyone coming is a friend or family? They will be there and they WILL participate.

🥩 (steak) - Does your oc have any coping mechanisms? Healthy or unhealthy?

This is... such an interesting question. I honestly had to spend a lot of time pondering this...

If we are being technical, fighting and hunting start out being sort of coping mechanisms for Kingsley. But when he starts making friends (cough- Jack), he starts to develop other coping mechanisms. Running and training begin to slowly become forms of coping mechanisms for him. But he still... does target practice... a lot.

Oisín on the other hand tends to self isolate and write- write everything. Positive. Negative. All their feelings conveyed on a page rather than expressed outwardly.

If you made it this far- thank you for reading ^^;

Prompt

Tag list: @ramshacklerumble @the-trinket-witch @starry-night-rose @elenauaurs @rainesol

@cyanide-latte @winterweary @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @boopshoops

@lumdays @twstinginthewind @inmateofthemind

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420

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[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[distortedmoondisc]

I think we as a fandom don't talk enough about Aira being Hiiro's fan—y'know, as an idol.

It might be because most people don't read the main story, or because it's not blatantly stated in there like other things, but it's something I think is a very unique facet about their relationship.

As we know, Aira separates his professional life and his personal life a lot. He will wait in line to shake hands with Hiyori Tomoe and buy a dozen CDs just to have a couple of extra minutes just talk to him, even though he can do this at any time since they're both idols living in the ES dorms and friends from the same circle.

And while this is admittedly silly from Aira's part, he truly sees this something serious and actually, he's kind of justified in thinking this way? He takes pride in being an idol otaku, and he wants to play as fair as possible with fellow fans, he doesn't want to take advantage of the fact that he's living and working alongside these super stars, and in my eyes that just shows how pure-hearted and honest he is.

With that in mind, it would be obvious to conclude that Aira would be a fan of his unitmates. He's definitely a fan of Tatsumi and Mayoi, but it's explicitly said in the MS that Aira is a fan of Hiiro.

This is from episode 89, "Grace"

(this episode may or may have not changed my brain chemistry forever lol)

Here, Aira makes the statement that he wants to protect Hiiro as an idol.

Hiiro is new to this world; he's a rookie, he's unpolished, far from perfect, but he's brimming with potential and he shines brightly on stage regardless of his imperfections — especially to Aira's eyes, and Aira wants to protect that, he wants to keep Hiiro's shine, and to help him grow and become the great idol Aira sees in him.

And I just can't express how much this means to me??? To their relationship??? This is why I can't understand people who say Aira doesn't care about Hiiro (these are opinions I've read way too often on twitter...), when Aira more than anyone wants to protect him not only as a person (like when he comforts him, cheers him up and motivates him after Rinne disowns him), but also as an idol. Aira trusts in Hiiro the idol. He sees his potential and he admires him deeply — not only as a fellow idol or as a friend, but as a fan.

And what gets me is the wording Aira uses here. He talks about wanting to protect Hiiro, to defend him. This is stated in another chapter and I don't remember exactly where (I believe it's one of the last episodes of the MS, but please correct me if I'm mistaken), but Aira states that he wants to protect Hiiro's purity — and this can be interpreted many ways, be it in that he wants to protect Hiiro's innocence as in his personality trait (his endearing naivety, his trusting and friendly nature, his endless curiosity, his earnestness and sincerity), or his purity as an idol, in the sense that because Hiiro is an idol, he has an appearance to keep, he has to be shining and to be pure and beautiful all the time (because that's the image idols give to the world, to their fans; the image that gives countless of people like Aira hope); this can include protecting Hiiro from the darker sides of the industry, such as toxic fans, unhealthy relationships with fame, corrupted producers or people from the industry, among other things. Aira seems to be aware of these issues (as he mentions in the second chapter of the main story, see below), so it makes sense that he wants to shield Hiiro, who knows absolutely nothing about this industry or the city, from those things.

Episode 24, "Suspicious"

And personally, I think Aira means both. He wants to protect Hiiro's purity as a person: he wants to protect the cheerful and positive Hiiro he knows and loves and admires (Aira himself states this. Multiple times. So much so that Aira often comments about how uncomfortable he feels when Hiiro is gloomy or troubled, that he is always the first to ask what is wrong or if something is bothering him.... but talking about Aira's high perceptiveness for Hiiro's emotions is a topic for another day) — but he also wants to protect Hiiro as an idol, wants to protect the immaculate image he gives to the world and to his fans, because Aira loves him, the same way he loves an idol from a fan standpoint. And he hopes that by protecting this purity, Hiiro will grow to be the talented and shining idol Aira knows he can be.

And what gets me is that after thinking of Hiiro this way, Aira snaps out of his self-deprecating thoughts and decides to give his best in the Ullambana (episode 89). Aira literally overcame his insecurities because of Hiiro. Thinking of having to do his best and keep working hard in order to keep up with him and with Alkaloid gave him the strength he needed to stop spiraling down his own insecurities and focus his efforts into something that was worth it: in keeping Alkaloid alive, and keeping Hiiro The Idol alive, because Aira believes he will become an idol that will soothe, delight and captivate hearts of many like Aira in the future — and Aira has to become an accomplished idol and a strong person if he is to be next to him on stage to protect him and to help him grow.

-

I say a lot, mostly jokingly between my friends, that Aira is the biggest HiiroP... but after writing this whole post, I realize I'm not so far off from this assumption. Aira loves Hiiro as a friend, we all know and understand that, but what is often overlooked is that Aira—who divides his professional and personal life so strictly—recognizes the rookie, unpolished, but talented Hiiro as an idol, and he wants to see him grow and succeed not only as his friend and unitmate, but also as a fan. Hiiro is so shining and wonderful on stage that it awakens the idol-ota instinct on Aira, it brings him back to his roots where he watched and admired idols from afar and inspired and soothed his lonely heart. And honestly? I think this is terribly wholesome, if not incredibly beautiful, and I'm getting emotional over hiiai once again, so I'm going to finish the essay here. Thanks for reading ahdjfk

[cookinguptales]

today's mantra is "time spent healing is never wasted"

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

This is the final poll of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

THIS POLL LASTS FOR 24 HOURS.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

Hedy Lamarr:

"The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!"

"Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)"

"Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous."

"One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more."

"Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part."

[lxvsiick]

CALLING ON MY ANGEL | PARK SUNGHOON X READER

PAIRING: troublemaker! park sunghoon x good girl! fem! reader

SUMMARY: She was a sweet angel in his world of darkness.

GENRE: imagine, grumpy x sunshine?

WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

A/N: honestly, i don't know what was going on in my head when i wrote this -- but chase atlantic and enhypen just go together so well ,, anyways this is a story/imagine inspired by the song ANGELS by Chase Atlantic! Enjoy!

It was late, and the streetlights flickered dimly, casting long shadows across the pavement as Y/n made her way home from her shift at the convenience store. Her steps were light, but exhaustion weighed her down. The night air was crisp, the silence only broken by the occasional car passing by.

As she turned the corner, a group of guys about her age noticed her. Their voices lowered to murmurs, and then, as if on cue, they called out to her.

"Hey, pretty lady, what’s the rush?" one of them asked, his tone slimy and casual.

Y/n tensed immediately, her heart racing as they approached her, their confidence unnerving. They surrounded her, blocking her path, their grins widening as they tried to engage her with flirty remarks that only made her skin crawl.

"Come on, stay and chat for a bit," another one urged, his voice dropping in what he likely thought was a charming way.

"I... I really need to go," she stammered, trying to sound firm but unable to hide the tremor in her voice. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape, but the street was empty.

The guys chuckled, sensing her discomfort and ignoring her quiet rejection. One of them stepped even closer, his hand grazing her arm, making her shrink back in fear. Just as panic started to rise in her chest, a figure appeared on the sidewalk, heading in their direction.

Sunghoon walked toward them, his head down, the hood of his black hoodie pulled low over his face. Without slowing his pace, he bumped into one of the guys, shoulder to shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance.

"Hey, watch it!" the guy barked, turning aggressively. But when he saw Sunghoon’s face, he froze. The cut on his cheek was still fresh, and the bruise beneath his eye only added to the dark, dangerous aura he carried. His expression was cold, unreadable, and his reputation preceded him.

"Wait... that’s him," one of the other guys muttered in panic, recognition flashing across his face. Sunghoon and his group were well-known around campus—troublemakers you didn’t mess with unless you had a death wish.

The tension in the air shifted immediately. Without another word, the group of guys glanced at each other nervously and started to back off, retreating with hasty steps as they muttered excuses under their breath. They quickly disappeared down the street, their bravado shattered.

For a moment, Y/n stood frozen in place, her heart still pounding. Then, she let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her as she turned to face her unexpected savior.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet night.

Sunghoon didn’t respond. He merely continued walking, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his face obscured beneath the hood. But there was something about his presence that eased her fear. Without thinking, she began to follow him.

He didn’t look back, but after a few steps, his pace slowed, just enough for her to catch up. They walked side by side in silence, the tension of the moment gradually fading away. The comfort of his silent protection was enough to keep her calm as they walked through the empty streets, heading in the same direction.

Though no words were spoken, the quiet connection between them felt stronger than any conversation they could have had.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n strolled down the school hallway, a bounce in her step and a smile on her face. In each hand, she held a can of soda, one of them a free gift from the vending machine that had decided to be generous today. The students who passed by greeted her with warm smiles and waves, and she returned them just as brightly. Known for her kind heart and friendly demeanor, she was one of those people everyone gravitated toward.

As she approached the quieter end of the hall, where the lights dimmed slightly and fewer students wandered, a faint groan reached her ears. She slowed her pace, her smile fading as curiosity took over. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for the source of the sound.

Then she spotted him—Sunghoon, slumped against the wall, half-hidden in the shadowed corner of the hallway. His head rested back, eyes shut, a pained expression on his face. He looked like he had just come out of a brawl, the bruises on his face making it clear that he hadn’t come out unscathed.

Letting out a quiet gasp, she hurried over to him, crouching down beside him. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, concern lacing her voice.

Sunghoon groaned again, wincing as he tried to shift slightly. “Go away,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice rough and tired.

Y/n didn’t budge. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she studied his battered face. Then, as if a lightbulb flicked on in her mind, an idea popped into her head. Without a word, she grabbed the extra can of soda from her hand and gently pressed it against his bruised cheek.

He winced at the cold metal against his skin, eyes flying open in surprise. “What the—” he started, only to stop short when he saw her sitting there, looking at him with that same concerned expression.

“Use it,” she said, offering him a small smile. “And you really should stop getting into so many fights.”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. His usual tough exterior seemed to falter as he stared at her, completely caught off guard. She looked so calm, so kind, her face glowing in the soft light filtering into the hallway. In his dazed state, she looked almost angelic—like someone who didn’t belong in the world of trouble and chaos he often found himself in.

She seemed to notice him staring and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. Flustered, she quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. “Anyway, um, I’ve got to go,” she stammered, taking a step back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Before he could respond, she turned and hurried off down the hall, leaving him behind, still holding the can of soda against his cheek. He watched her retreating figure, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance.

As he sat there, her words and that small act of kindness played over in his mind. A strange warmth filled his chest—a feeling he wasn’t used to.

For the first time in a while, Sunghoon wasn’t sure what to make of it.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n stood behind the counter of the convenience store, her fingers idly tapping against the scanner as the hum of fluorescent lights filled the quiet air. It was a slow night—until the bell above the door jingled, announcing a loud group entering the store. Her gaze lifted, recognizing Sunghoon and his six friends immediately. They were laughing and talking, their voices filling the otherwise calm atmosphere.

She couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of him. When his eyes finally met hers from across the store, she gave him a small, friendly wave. But instead of a smile in return, he only nodded coolly before turning his attention back to his friends.

She swallowed, her smile faltering as she watched him walk over to join his group, who were busy picking out snacks and drinks from the aisles. Despite the brief, almost indifferent interaction, she found herself glancing over at him every now and then, wondering what was going through his mind.

A few minutes later, his friends approached the register, arms full of snacks and drinks, still chattering away. She straightened up, putting on her professional face as they piled their items onto the counter.

“That’ll be $19,851 wons,” she said after scanning everything.

Jake shot her a mischievous grin. “Oh, don’t worry, Sunghoon is paying,” he said with a wink. Before she could react, the whole group hurried out of the store, leaving her standing there, blinking in surprise.

Moments later, Sunghoon appeared at the counter, his usual stoic expression in place. He handed her his card without a word.

Her hands felt a little shaky as she took it, swiping it through the machine. The silence between them felt heavy, almost awkward. She could feel her heart beating faster, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. As she handed his card back, Sunghoon spoke up, “So... when does your shift end?”

His question caught her off guard, and she almost fumbled with his card in surprise. “Uh, it ends later tonight,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she handed him back his card.

He nodded, the silence between them settling again as she finished ringing him up. When the receipt printed, he took it without a word and left, the bell above the door jingling once more as he disappeared into the night.

The rest of her shift passed uneventfully, but Sunghoon’s brief question kept playing over in her mind. She wasn’t sure why, but it left her feeling unsettled, a strange mix of anticipation and confusion curling in her chest.

As she finally closed up for the night, locking the door behind her, she stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air. But before she could take another step, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the store—Sunghoon.

Surprise flickered across her face. “You waited for me?” she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

He pushed himself off the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Figured I’d walk you home,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips, warmth spreading in her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured, falling into step beside him as they began the familiar walk home together. Neither of them spoke much, but the quiet between them felt comfortable, different from the silence at the store. This time, it wasn’t awkward—just... them.

And for the first time that night, she felt a strange sense of calm, knowing he was there.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Sunghoon walked through the crowded halls of the school, his usual scowl firmly in place. The sound of shuffling feet and murmured conversations surrounded him, but none of the students dared meet his gaze as they passed by. Some even went as far as to move out of his way, heads down, whispering under their breath like he was a storm to avoid.

He was used to it by now—being the "troublemaker" on campus had that effect. But today, the weight of the stares seemed heavier than usual.

As he reached the lockers near the entrance, his ears caught the sound of a hushed conversation nearby. The voices weren’t meant to be overheard, but they were just loud enough for him to pick up bits and pieces.

“...Have you heard? Y/n’s been hanging around with him.”

“I know, right? She’s way too nice for someone like him. He’s bad news...”

“She doesn’t deserve that. What if he rubs off on her?”

Sunghoon stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he listened. They didn’t even try to hide their judgment.

“She’s sweet. She shouldn’t be mixed up with a guy like him,” another voice chimed in.

His hand clenched into a fist by his side, but he resisted the urge to turn around and confront them. What would be the point? People had always made assumptions about him, and it seemed like no matter what he did, that wasn’t going to change. But now, it wasn’t just about him—it was about her. And that made something burn in his chest.

Letting out a huff of frustration, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel to walk out of the building. His footsteps echoed loudly against the floor as he pushed through the double doors, his mind racing with the words he had just overheard.

They think I’m bad for her? The thought gnawed at him. Part of him wanted to ignore it, brush it off like he always did. But this time was different. This time, it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Because, despite his reputation and the way others looked at him, he cared about Y/n. And the last thing he wanted was for her to be caught in the crossfire of people’s judgments because of him. He clenched his jaw, replaying the whispers in his mind.

They don’t know her. They don’t know me.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped outside, feeling the cool air hit his face. He pulled the hood of his black hoodie over his head, trying to shake off the frustration that clung to him. The more he thought about it, the more their words stung, even though he didn’t want them to.

His pace quickened as he made his way down the steps, his thoughts clouded with doubt. He didn’t want to drag her down, but he also didn’t want to push her away. After all, they had gotten close in the past few weeks. For the first time in a long while, he had someone who saw him as more than just his reputation. Someone who didn’t flinch when she saw him, who wasn’t afraid to be around him.

But if staying close to her meant she’d have to deal with all the rumors and whispers... what then?

With his hands still deep in his pockets, he walked out of the school and into the garden, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. All he knew was that the idea of losing her, even as just a friend, felt worse than anything those students could ever say.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n strolled through the school’s garden, enjoying the calm of the late afternoon. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow on the path. As she rounded a corner, her eyes landed on a familiar figure standing by the old wooden bench. It was Sunghoon, and something about his posture caught her attention.

Her steps slowed as she approached, a frown forming on her face. The closer she got, the more she could see the new cuts and bruises marring his face. It was clear he had been in some sort of altercation recently, and the sight made her heart sink.

"Hey," she called out softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "Are you okay?"

Sunghoon didn’t turn to face her, his shoulders tense. He muttered, "I’m fine. Just go away."

The dismissiveness in his tone stung. Y/n hesitated for a moment, her worry overriding her instinct to back off. She stepped closer, her eyes searching his face. "You don’t look fine. What happened?"

He turned his head slightly, just enough to show his irritation. "I said I’m fine. It’s nothing."

The Y/n’s concern deepened, her eyes softening with empathy. She reached out a tentative hand, but he shrugged it off, a frustrated edge to his movements.

"Stop asking," he snapped, his voice harsh. "I don’t need you to worry about me."

The words were like a slap in the face. Y/n felt a mix of confusion and hurt. Why was he pushing her away like this? She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let her help, why he was so determined to shut her out.

"Please," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper now. "Let me help."

But he was already turning away, storming off down the path with a heavy, deliberate pace. The back of his hoodie was the only thing she could see as he walked away, the anger and frustration radiating from his form.

Y/n stood there, rooted to the spot. The tranquil garden seemed to mock her as she watched him go. The gentle rustling of leaves felt distant, and the beauty of the afternoon was lost on her. Her heart ached, both for him and for the rift that was growing between them.

She wanted to chase after him, to bridge the gap he was so determined to create, but something held her back. She felt helpless and confused, the worry for him battling with the sting of his rejection. All she could do was watch as he disappeared into the distance, leaving her standing there with a sinking feeling in her chest.

She sighed heavily, her emotions a tangled mess. As the garden’s serenity settled back around her, she finally turned and walked away, her steps slow and heavy, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

The clock on Y/n's bedside table ticked softly as she lay sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp, creating a cozy, almost ethereal atmosphere. Her thumb paused over the screen as a new message notification popped up.

Curious, she tapped on the message from Sunghoon: 

"Can we meet at the park? I need to talk to you."

She hesitated for a moment, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Despite the late hour, something about the message made her heart race. Quickly, she threw on a white cardigan over her pajamas, the light fabric falling gracefully as she shrugged it on. Taking a deep breath, she headed out into the cool night air.

The park was a short walk away, and the streets were quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. As she arrived, the park’s lone streetlamp cast a warm, golden glow over the pathway. Her eyes searched the area until they landed on Sunghoon, who was standing by the old wooden bench. The lamp illuminated his face, and he looked up as she approached.

The sight of her, framed by the soft light of the streetlamp, took his breath away. The white cardigan contrasted with her long, dark hair, giving her an almost angelic appearance. His heart ached as he saw her—beautiful, serene, and entirely too good for the mess he felt he had become.

When she reached him, he didn't say a word. Instead, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight hug. The embrace was warm and comforting, and Y/n hesitated only for a moment before wrapping her arms around him in return.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Why did you want to see me?"

Sunghoon buried his face in her hair, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, "I just... I needed to see you. I’m sorry for how I acted the other day. I was wrong to push you away."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache. She could feel the tension in his body, the regret in his touch. She held him a little tighter, her own feelings swirling—relief, concern, and an overwhelming sense of compassion.

"Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He sighed, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. The shadows of the night danced across his face, but the vulnerability in his gaze was unmistakable. "I didn’t want to drag you into my problems. I thought it would be better if I handled it alone."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes filled with empathy. "You don’t have to go through things alone. I’m here for you, no matter what."

A faint smile touched his lips, a glimmer of hope breaking through his troubled expression. "I know now. I should have known better."

They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and emotions. The cool night air seemed to hold its breath as they embraced again, the world outside fading away.

"Thank you for coming," he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur.

She smiled up at him, her heart lighter despite the heavy conversation. "I’ll always come when you need me."

As they stood together under the streetlamp’s warm glow, it felt as though the night had woven a fragile thread of understanding and connection between them—one that would help mend the rift that had formed.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

PART TWO | YOU CAME TO ME, MY ANGEL

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do the Dormleaders' reactions to Yuu who, given that they're from another world, is immune to any and all magic spells.

Example: Riddle's 'Off With Your Head' doesn't make a collar on their neck, 'King's Roar' doesn't affect them at all, 'It's A Deal' doesn't take anything from Yuu and acts like any ordinary contract, etc.

However, this means any healing spells has no effect, forcing Yuu to heal on their own.

Thank you for reading this!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ magic immune reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

out of all the dorm leaders, Riddle would be the most annoyed

...not that 'Off With Your Head' would've done much, anyway

you have no magic to take away

but... it's the meaning!

it's symbolic!

even a plain old collar would be punishment enough

but he can't even do that!

hopefully, you're not the type to misbehave, so he won't have to worry about it

if you are...

...expect to spend a lot of your week trimming the hedges around Heartslabyul as punishment

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona doesn't even know until his overblot

...well...

until after his overblot

everyone keeps going on about how lucky you are

(personally, he doesn't see what's so great about being magic-repellent, but sure)

he's... glad you're okay

not that he'd ever admit that...

just don't let it get to your head, alright?

being immune to magic means both bad and good spells

and he's not going to be sanding you again anytime soon

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul is PISSSSSED lmao

all that work he's put into his latest business venture

and for what??

you're not even BOUND by his contracts!

he has a hard time saying goodbye to Ramshackle...

what a nice cafe it would have made...

but, still

there's got to be some way he can use this to his advantage

he's an adaptable man

and he's always looking for a new assistant

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim is only a little disappointed

first, you can't even cast a spell

now you can't have any cast on you?

you're missing out on all his great party tricks!!!

but... oh, well

he thinks of it as an adventure, or a fun challenge

magicless parties sound kinda cool, right?

and Jamil says it's probably for the better, and Kalim trusts his judgment

(...for now, at least, cough cough)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

not counting the... VDC incident, Vil doesn't care

unlike your annoying friends, he has no reason to curse you

and he can certainly think of many magicless punishments should you ever misbehave

so, no

not really something that crosses his mind

even when you're unwell (because, of course, he's the first to tend to you), he prefers using natural remedies before magical ones

to him, it's just another piece of the strange puzzle that is you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly what is Idia going to do

open the gates of hell on you?

nah

even boring spells would be too much effort for a guy like him

he does find you kinda interesting, though

I mean, being immune to magic in this place is a total buff!

imagine a group of NPCs firing magic at you, and you're like, wham! whew! zoooom!

...in his own words, anyway

(it's not actually that cool)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Malleus...

where do I even start?

he's so reliant using magic that he can almost sense there's something different about you right away

one on hand, it's a good thing

he worries about you, you know? the students at this school can get... unruly

on the other hand, knowing that you won't respond to magical healing is... worrying

he tries not to think about it so much

his overblot is a different story, though

if he can't put you to sleep, what can he do? trap you at NRC with him forever?

actually... I take it back, he'd totally do that

[redeyerhaenyra]

Konïg discovering his size kink

Summary: Konïg discovers how much he likes how big he is compared to you

Warnings: Guess what! Smut. It's just smut. Size kink (duh), Doggy, Google translate German (I'm sorry 😭), Konïg being a bit of a himbo, afab reader, there is one time at the end reader is referred to as a girl in German, but honestly there's no other mention of readers gender so I hope the nonbinary pals will also be able to enjoy :D, let me know if I've missed anything

Notes: Reader is written as smaller than Konïg but he's so huge that anyone of any size can enjoy this!

The way I'm always so ready to talk about size kink

Especially with Konïg omg!!!

6'10 giant he really is my King

Anyway

I think Konïg's size kink didn't actually manifest until you

Sure he's not blind, he knows how he towers over everyone else

But it's like, it was never a part of his sex life till he was having sex with you

Like it just never occurred to him

But then, with you, it suddenly all made sense

He had you in doggy, fucking you on his thick cock in deep, steady thrusts

In this position he'd a chance to really observe how much bigger he was than you

Normally, when you two fucked, he'd be so entranced watching your beautiful face he'd have no interest looking anywhere else

Oh but now.. now he could see

How the plush skin of you hips spilled between his big hands, how they were fully enveloped by them

How he could so easily pull you back and forth, spearing you on his cock like you were nothing more than a fleshlight

A low grunt caught in his throat, dick twitching as the realisation of oh, he liked how much bigger he was than you

He liked it very much

Konïg leaned over you, pulling you further into his lap as he squished his whole body around you

He's so all-consuming, every sense is filled with him and him alone

He moans open-mothed in your ear, and licks up your neck

"Scheiße, ich hatte nicht... nicht gemerkt, wie sehr ich deine Kleinheit mag, Schatzi. Do you like it too? Ja..ja.. das wette ich, ja.." (Fuck, I did not.. not realise, how much I liked your littleness, honey.. I bet you do..)

After you and he cum, he finally notices how hard your poor litle muschi tries to keep all his cum inside, but it just can't help to let some leak out and dribble down your thighs

Makes sure to give it a little soothing thankyou kiss

Takes a moment to tell your pussy how proud of it he is, taking such a big cock in such a little hole, such a trooper

Cuz like, I know his dick is big!!! I know it!!!!!

It's proportional, shall we say 😭 your cunny working overtime so Konïg makes sure to show his appreciation to it

"Mein Gott, ich weiß nicht wie du das machst, work so hard for me, all of your strength goes into fitting my dick inside you, ja? Ja.. because you're so little, my tiny, tiny mädchen.." (My god, I don't know how you do it)

[sugufied]

" 𝐏𝐎𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇¡𝐓 𝐅'𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! "

𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 — gojo, geto, toji, nanami + their fav positions to fuck u in <3

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 — mature content, , dirty talk, begging, suguru has a tongue piercing, feral-ish gojo, spanking, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (don't do this shit y'all), bed breaking, creampies, satoru is pussydrunk af. (mdni) not proofread

𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 — first post.. hope y'all enjoy (lmk if y'all want part 2 w diff charas)

GOJO SATORU + cowgirl

bright blue eyes were carefully watching your every move as you hovered over satoru's cock, rubbing your slick folds against his flushed pink tip. satoru could feel his patience wearing thin by each second, his eyes glowering as he resisted the urge to just grab you by the hips and just slam your ass down on his cock.

"c'mon babyyyy, jus' put it in," he all but groaned, almost whining even — making your plump lips quirk up into a cheeky smirk, "ask nicely, 'toru ~"

"godddd fuckin' please—" satoru felt his jaw clench, veins visible underneath his pale, milky skin. "dunnooo.. maybe if you be—"

oh.

you were fucking asking for it now.

the moan that left you would've put even porn stars to shame as your boyfriend finally snapped, forcibly slamming your cunt down on his cock — his length filling you up so nicely.

"ohh ffuuck—" satoru felt his eyes roll into the back of his head, long 'n slim fingers gripping your plush hips for dear life, as if it'd kill him to let go. "o-oh my go- 'toruuu—!" you squealed embarrassingly loud as you were pulled up, up, up then brutally dropped back down, the tip of satoru's cock mashing into your g-spot.

"-ke me beg?" your senses finally came back to you as you felt a pinch on your perk nipples, eyes snapping open as you looked at your man and oh.

he looked so fucking out of it, blue eyes now wide and frenzied — his hands moving from your tits to the globes of your ass, spreading them apart. "were you gonna- fuuuhck ugh don't squeeze so ha-rd— gonna make me beg, p-princess?" satoru's voice was strained, strands of snowy white hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. holy fuck he looked so good.

"oh? thank you- nngh- pretty girl, but i asked you a question," he halted his pace, pinching your nipples hard to make you squeal so cute for him — god, he just wanted to fucking ruin you.

“yes yes! ohh— fuck, ‘toru!” you cried harder, clenching your pussy so sweetly around him, almost making the man bust right away. “‘m sorry - ‘m so so-rry—“ you tried moving your hips, growing increasingly frustrated, which satoru could tell.

“babyyyy please— please cum on this cock f’me, i know you can do it.”

no way he was actually begging.

satoru’s pleading tone and eyes made your pussy throb around him, earning you a swift smack on your tits — a mean chuckle leaving his lips as he grinned up at you, “is that ya wanted me to say, pretty?”

fucking menace.

GETO SUGURU + 69

“fuckin’ hell— you taste so good, baby,” geto moaned right into your cunt, pierced tongue sloppily running up and down your pussy, before sucking hard on your clit.

you shamelessly gurgled around his cock, slurping down his pre-cum like it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted — and it actually might be.

suguru loved this position. he could do his favorite thing in the world aka eating you out while fucking your sweet little throat? it was fucking heaven for this man.

it was honestly adorable to him when you got so lost in the pleasure of his tongue fucking your pussy that you forgot to suck his dick — but no worries, he could easily thrust in your mouth and get you back to your senses.

another thing he reeeeally likes doing is slapping your cute little cunt — chubby pussy lips turning his favorite shade of pink when he does it especially hard… he fucking adores it.

“tastes like— ugh, fuckin’ heaven baby,” geto felt his eyes roll back, dick twitching uncontrollably when you grind against his face like you own it (you do), he loves it when you use him for your own pleasure. your candied lips wrapped around the pink head of his fat cock, swirling your tongue around it before slamming your head down all the way — catching suguru off guard as he let out a choked groan, the vibrations of the noise making your brain go all fuzzy.

“ohhh f—“ geto’s words die in his throat, jaw clenching as you bob your head up and down, tears welling in your eyes from the sheer girth and length, messy cunt practically gushing all over his face, which he tried his best to drink up, slurping on your cunt until you creamed all over him.

yeah, he fucking loved 69.

TOJI FUSHIGURO + leapfrog

“nasty fuckin’ girl,” toji’s palm cracked against the fat of your plush ass, his pelvis slamming into your poor pussy, slick and his previous loads running down both your and his thighs. you sobbed out from the sharp sting on your ass, the sound muffled from your head being pushed into the plush pillows underneath — toji’s thick fingers entangled in your hair.

“beggin’ me to fuck ya like a goddamn bitch in heat — this what you wanted, whore?” his tone was harsh, thrusts speeding up as your gooey walls clenched around him, making the man scoff out a laugh as he smacked your ass once more, harder than the previous one. “god ‘yer such a whore, baby — i love it.”

toji's twisted grin widened even more as he felt you clench around him once more, "flithy fuckin' girlllll," he moaned, licking his scarred lips as he heard youur sweet moans and whines of pleasure.

"doin' so good f'me, ma — keep going," he groaned when you squirted all over his dick and not to mention the drenched sheets. "awh fuuuuck i'm so close-" toji's pace increased, as your mind completely blanked out — the only noise you could focus on were toji's harsh pants and the loud thud of the headboard slamming against the wall - god, no wonder your neighbours hated you both.

you snapped out of the daze as you suddenly felt yourself crashing down — literally. toji's last brutal thrust fucking broke the bed, the brand new bed you bought just two weeks ago.

luckily, both of you were fine but it didn't seem like toji even noticed the bed giving up, his head buried into the crook of your bruised neck as he pumped his load into you.

"t-toji! you broke the f- ah, fucking bed, you monster!" you groaned in complaint, kicking your legs up against toji's ass. the man only shrugged dismissively, grabbing your legs and pinning them on the bed once more before cracking an evil smirk at you,

"ever fucked on a broken ass bed, ma?"

NANAMI KENTO + LOTUS

kento loved fucking you in any position — especially the ones where he got to see your pretty face. nothing beats the face of pure euphoria you make when you cum so hard on his dick — it swells his chest in pride every single time.

but, he was especially a fan of the "lotus" position. it was just so intimate — and he could closely observe all of your cute expressions while fucking you nice and deep— sign. him. up.

"god, you're so beautiful," nanami whispered into your ear — planting a chaste kiss on your lobe before biting it gently, his cock twitching so deep inside of you at hearing the soft, pretty moans you let out.

"says you," you giggled, grinding your hips down harder on his cock — feeling his fingers tighten on your hips, blunt nails digging into the plush flesh as your back arches — you took him so well.

"mmm,,, oh, do i now?" you teased, juicy cunt pulsating at the dazed look on your husband's handsome face — adorned with lipstick marks, that you left on him. "argh shiiit—" nanami grunted, feeling your warm, velvety walls clamp down on him — it had him seeing stars.

"'m so close, ken," you whined, pretty pink nails digging into his broad shoulders — feeling him throb inside of you at the slight sting. "i know, honey — cum f'me, make a fuckin' mess," he groaned, devouring your glossy lips into a sloppy kiss —

and you made a mess alright — soaking his abs down to his strong thighs in your sticky juices, squeezing down on his fat cock like your life depended on it. but none of that seemed to slow kento down — only making him the more eager to chase his own release as his thrusts got sloppier, the grip on your hips got even tighter when he finally came hard with a "c-cumming, fuck!"

your traced little hearts onto nanami's bare chest as you both came down from your highs, heavy panting filling the room as you basked in the soft afterglow.

[headspace-hotel]

you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.

Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.

Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.

Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.

Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it

Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)

Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.

Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.

a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.

this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.

EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.

An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.

[reidsfilm]

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 — SPENCER REID

PARING: spencer reid x fem reader

WARNINGS: SMUT!! (18+) porn with plot, soft !dom spencer, oral (fem receiving) praise, unprotected sex, cum eating, missionary, spencer being hot as fuck. hotch and rossi being protective dads. establish relationship, sexual harassment.

SUMMARY: The BAU team goes out for a nice night of drinking and fun, but what was supposed to be a fun night turns into you being harassed by a, clearly drunk man, and Spencer's not having any of it. And when you get home, things get pretty steamy.

WORD COUNT : 3,8k

Notes: i just LOVE dom spencer. that's all.

You and the rest of the BAU team are out at a bar, having decided that everyone needed to relax and cool off after a long and exhausting case. Garcia has taken Derek out on the dance floor, accompanied by Emily and JJ. Hotch and Rossi are having a quiet chat by the bar.

While you, your sitting next to Spencer at a table, talking about the latest book Spencer has read.

Spencer had been rambling about the book he was currently reading for a good ten minutes now. It was like he had a whole monologue prepared but it didn't bother you that much honestly. His rants were pretty adorable though, watching the enthusiasm shine in his eyes as he talked about the book.

He was almost finishing up the plot of the book when he suddenly paused. He'd gotten so lost in the discussion that he didn't realize that he'd been talking for so long. "Oh my god, have I been talking this entire time?"

To be fair, you didn't mind him talking nonstop, you found it adorable if anything.

"Yeah, you have," you said with a nod, taking a sip of your drink. "But I don't mind, I think it's kind of cute when you get like that."

His cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at your comment.

"Really?" He asked, trying to avoid eye contact, looking down at his drink. "I didn't realize I was talking so much. You were paying attention right?" He questioned before looking back up at you, those wide brown eyes piercing into your own.

Those beautiful honey-eyed eyes that always had so much to say.

"Of course I was," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I always pay attention, Spence."

You took a moment to admire his flustered expression before taking another sip of your drink.

Even though he felt a sense of embarrassment, he secretly enjoyed the fact that you found him adorable.

"Well, you didn't stop me," He mumbled, taking a quick sip of his own drink in a failed attempt to hide his blush. "I could have gone on for hours."

Oh, you definitely knew he could do that.

A soft laugh escaped your lips. "I know you could," you said, shaking your head in amusement. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

You moved your stool slightly closer to him, your knee brushing against his under the table.

The slight contact between your knee and his sent a jolt of pleasure through his body, causing his blush to deepen.

He tried to play it cool, taking another sip of his drink, but he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You enjoyed listening though, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," you replied, a sly smile on your face. "I like hearing you ramble on about all your nerdy stuff. It's cute."

You placed your hand on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

''Well, aren't you two just adorable.'' Your head perked up at an unfamiliar voice, your eyes landing on a man, probably around his early forties. His hair was almost completely grey, which might be due to the stress, or old age might just catch up to him quicker than he thinks. He had a sleezy smile on his face, his eyes dilated, indicating that he was most likely drunk.

Of course, you were profiling him. Working at BAU has made you do it daily when you interact with others, without even knowing it.

''Can we help you?'' You questioned, swirling your plastic straw around in your drink. The man fully turned his attention to you, and you felt a chill run up your spine at the way he was ogling you, his eyes moving to your cleavage.

The man's expression didn't change, his sleazy smile still in place. "Just admiring the view," he replied, his words practically slurred due to being so drunk.

His eyes remained fixed on you, shamelessly ogling you, seemingly ignoring Spencer's presence.

''Right... well if you haven't noticed, I'm very much a taken woman.'' You said, gesturing with your chin, pointing at Spencer.

The man's smile faded slightly as he finally turned his gaze to Spencer. He looked him up and down, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as if Spencer couldn't possibly be enough to keep you.

"Is that so?" the man asked, his voice still slurred. "And how do I know that's true? You could just be saying that to get rid of me."

Spencer's grip on his drink tightened, and his jaw clenched, trying to maintain his composure. He knew this creep wasn't worth wasting his energy on, but he was struggling to keep his cool.

"We're together," he responded, his voice firm and cold. "And you need to back off."

The man chuckled at Spencer's words, the alcohol in his system making him more confident than he should be.

He leaned in closer to you, his hand reaching out to grab your arm, attempting to pull you up from your chair. Your eyes widened as you reached for his hand, trying to pry it off of your arm. ''Hey! Don't touch me.'' You stated firmly.

The man didn't let up, his grip on your arm only tightening as he pulled you slightly out of your chair. "Aw, come on, sweetheart, don't be like that," he cooed, his sleazy smile growing wider. "I just want to have a chat, that's all."

Spencer, at this point, was absolutely seething at the man's audacity. He couldn't believe how forward and aggressive this creep was being.

"Let go of her," he said, his voice low and dangerous, standing up from his chair. "Now."

Spencer's actions were quick and precise. In a swift movement, he reached out and grabbed the man's arm, forcefully twisting it behind his back. With a firm push, he slammed the man's chest against the bar counter, the man's head hitting the hard surface with a thud.

The people around them stopped what they were doing and turned to watch, murmurs of shock and surprise filling the air.

The man struggled against Spencer's grip, trying to break free, but Spencer was stronger and more determined. He pressed the man's cheek more firmly against the counter, his free hand resting on the back of the man's neck to keep him pinned in place.

You'd never seen Spencer quite like this before, he could be a little rough if he wanted to, but this? This was Spencer's possessive side breaking out. And you? You found it very... hot.

"I warned you not to touch her," Spencer growled, his voice dark and venomous.

Hotch and Rossi, who had been sitting a bit further down the bar, had immediately heard the commotion and turned to see what was happening. They saw the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and sternness.

Hotch's expression hardened as he got up from his seat, Rossi following suit. They walked over to where Spencer was holding the man against the counter, their steps filled with an authoritative presence.

Both Hotch and Rossi immediately recognized the situation upon approach. Hotch's eyes flicked over the man pinned to the counter before shifting to you, silently checking if you were okay.

You just gave him a small nod, a silent indication that you were okay.

Rossi's face darkened as he observed the scene, his voice firm when he spoke. "What's going on here?"

Spencer, who was still holding the man in place, glanced up at them. "This creep was harassing her," he replied, his voice low and filled with anger. "He wouldn't back off when I told him she was taken, and then he had the audacity to grab her."

Rossi's face tightened at the explanation, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. He looked down at the man, who was still struggling against Spencer's grip.

"Is that true?" Rossi asked, his voice low and stern.

The man mumbled something incomprehensible, clearly not in a state to form a proper response.

Hotch's expression remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the man as he attempted to mumble out a response. He noticed the man's obvious drunkenness and took a step closer.

"Are you drunk, sir?" Hotch asked, keeping his tone even and authoritative.

The man's attempts at speaking were slurred and incoherent, his head still pinned against the counter. There was no denying that he was highly intoxicated.

"I... I had a few drinks," he managed to mutter out, struggling briefly under Spencer's grip again.

"More than a few, I'd say," Spencer grumbled, squeezing the man's wrist tighter to discourage any further escape attempts.

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a knowing glance, both aware that the man was too drunk to deny any of the accusations against him.

Rossi crossed his arms, his eyes fixated on the man in Spencer's grip. "You realize you're causing a scene, right?" he asked, his voice stern.

The man, still pinned to the counter, groaned, trying to twist his head to look at Rossi. "I just... wanted to talk to her," he managed to say, his words slurred and thick.

"There are better ways to approach someone without being a creep," Rossi stated bluntly, his patience with the man starting to wear thin.

Hotch took a step closer to Spencer and the man, his gaze unwavering. "I think it's time you apologize," he said firmly.

The man let out another groan. "Fine, fine... I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice low and resentful.

Spencer, however, didn't loosen his grip, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the man. He wasn't convinced by the man's half-hearted apology.

Hotch noted Spencer's tight grip and the lack of sincerity in the man's apology. He placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder, silently signaling him to ease up a bit.

"Let him go, Reid," Hotch said, his voice quiet but assertive.

Spencer was reluctant to let go, his anger still boiling within him. But he knew Hotch's authority, and he wasn't in a position to argue. With a small huff, he slackened his grip and took a few steps back, allowing the man to raise his head from the counter.

The man, now freed from Spencer's hold, groaned again as he pushed himself off the counter, his balance unstable from the mix of alcohol and the rough treatment. He stumbled back a few steps, leaning against the bar for support.

Rossi watched the man carefully, his eyes sharp and calculating. "I think it would be best if you left," he said, his voice firm.

The man, still swaying slightly, grumbled something under his breath before pushing himself off the bar counter and stumbling away, leaving a trail of muttered curses and unsteady balance in his wake.

You took your bag from where it was hanging onto the chair, slinging it onto your shoulder before stepping over to Spencer. You could tell he was still angry, his jaw clenched and his posture tense.

You placed a hand on his arm, ''Hey...'' You said gently as you squeezed his arm, ''Can we go home?''

Spencer turned to look at you, the anger seemingly slipping from his features as they softened. His brown eyes softened as he looked at you, ''Yeah, yeah, let's go home.''

You nodded in agreement, giving his arm another small squeeze before releasing it, slipping your hand down to lace your fingers with his. Then you both made your way over to Hotch and Rossi to say your goodbyes.

"We're gonna head out," you said, pointing with your head over to the exit.

Hotch glanced between the two of you, his expression becoming a bit softer. "Alright, take care."

Rossi nodded in agreement, his gaze moving from you to Spencer.

"You two stay out of trouble, alright?" he teased, earning a slight roll of the eyes from Spencer. You just chuckled as you started walking, looking over your shoulder at the two older men, ''Can't make any promises.''

The late-night air in your apartment was thick with anticipation as Spencer's usual awkwardness had given way to a powerful, unrestrained passion. The adrenaline from the bar had left a tangible energy between you two, a charged electricity that seemed to buzz through the air. The door slammed shut behind you, and the moment you were alone, Spencer wasted no time in showing you just how much he needed you.

He pulled you into a fervent kiss, his hands gripping your waist with an urgent intensity. His lips were hot and demanding against yours, his tongue sweeping in with a possessive hunger. You could feel the heat of his desire radiating off him, his cock pressing insistently against your lower belly.

He was kissing you like he was a man-starved— and that he was.

''Fuck, you’re so hot,'' Spencer growled against your lips, his voice rough with lust. ''I need you so badly.''

He backed you towards the wall, his hands working quickly to undress you. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, but his frustration only heightened the urgency in his movements. When your blouse finally fell open, exposing your bare skin, he looked at you with a hungry appreciation. His eyes traveled over your body, lingering on your exposed cleavage and the curve of your hips.

''You're so perfect,'' he muttered, his voice hushed but filled with a raw edge. His hands traced the contours of your body, his touch both reverent and greedy. He slid his fingers along your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, and gently cupped them, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You gasped, your body arching towards his touch as he squeezed gently. ''Spencer, please,'' you whimpered, your voice trembling with desire. ''I need more. Please... please give me more.''

''I'll give you anything you want, anything.'' He muttered lowly as his hands moved to the waistband of your jeans. He undid the button and zipper with a rough urgency, pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You stepped out of them, your skin tingling with the cool air of the room.

''Fuck, you’re so wet,'' Spencer said, his voice dropping to a growl as he ran his fingers through your slick folds. His touch was electrifying, the rough pad of his fingertips teasing your clit. ''Is this all for me, hm?'' He crooned and you couldn't form a single coherent sentence, so all you managed to do was nod. Spencer chuckled at your obvious lack of verbal response, finding it adorable.

He knelt in front of you, his hands parting your legs with a firm grip. His eyes were dark with desire as he looked at you, his breath hot against your inner thighs. ''You’re driving me insane,'' he said, his voice rough with need. ''I want to make you come all over my face.''

That just made you all the more wet— you were practically Niagara Falls at this point. Spencer lifted one of your legs, draping it over his shoulder, pulling your aching and needy pussy closer to his mouth.

He didn't give you any time to react before he dived right in, flicking his tongue over your clit. The sensation of his tongue on your clit was overwhelming. He licked and sucked with a hungry fervor, his mouth moving in a relentless rhythm. The pressure and heat of his mouth on you made you gasp, your hands reaching out to grab at his curly brown hair, tugging at the strands.

''Spencer, oh my god.'' you moaned, your fingers tugging harder onto his hair and pulling his mouth even closer if that was possible. ''Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.''

He growled in response, his tongue moving faster and more insistently. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as you bucked against his face. The intensity of his touch, the pressure of his mouth, had you gasping and writhing with pleasure. You felt your climax approaching, your body trembling with the force of it.

''I'm gonna come... fuck.'' You moaned as you threw your head back. Your words only make Spencer more relentless in getting you to reach that high. His hands move to clutch at your ass, his nails digging into the flesh.

When you finally came, your body shuddered with the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer continued to lap at you, his tongue moving slowly to draw out every last wave of pleasure. You moaned and gasped, your breathing coming in ragged bursts.

He looked up at you with a satisfied grin, his face flushed and his chin glistening with your release. ''You taste incredible,'' he said, his voice low and thick with desire. ''I want you to feel amazing, to know how much I fucking want you.''

As soon as Spencer got back on his feet, still holding onto your hips to keep your wobbly legs steady, you reached for his pants, eager to return the favor. With trembling hands, you undid his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down. His cock sprang free, already hard and dripping with pre-cum. You wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat and weight of him in your hand.

Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as you stroked him, his breath coming in quick, sharp intakes. ''Fuck, that feels so good,'' he groaned, his hands resting on your hips as you worked him. ''I need to be inside you.''

You gave him a teasing smile, leaning in to whisper against his ear. ''I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fuck me hard.''

With a low growl, Spencer guided you to your shared bedroom, to the bed, his movements both urgent and deliberate. He laid you down, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them

You reached up to remove his shirt, your hands trembling as you undid the buttons. Spencer watched you, his lips curving up a little. He took hold of your hands, stopping you. ''We've got all the time in the world, baby. Relax.'' He cooed softly as he leaned down to press a few kisses to your knuckles.

''Sorry... just really want you.'' You mumbled, a sheepish look on your face. Spencer chuckled, letting go of your hands and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, ''Believe me, I want you just as bad.'' He mumbled before pulling back to look at you, undoing the last of the buttons before shedding off his shirt, and tossing it to the floor. Now the two of you were both completely naked.

Spencer placed his hand on your chest, nudging you down so you were fully laid out on the bed, propping yourself up against the pillows. His brown eyes skimmed over you, taking in your naked body laid out beneath him.

''Now, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't think straight.'' His cock was heavy as it teased your entrance, and he looked down at you with a fierce, possessive gaze. You bit your lip as you looked up at him.

''You ready?'' He questioned and you simply nodded.

He pushed into you slowly, the sensation of him filling you completely was both overwhelming and exhilarating. His cock stretched you perfectly, each inch filling you up. You gasped as your head tilted back against the pillows, your hands gripping the sheets. Spencer's own hands moved to grip the plush flesh of your hips tightly, holding you in place as he began to move.

''Fuck, you’re so tight,'' he groaned, his voice strained with lust. His thrusts were deep and relentless, each one making you gasp and cry out. The bed creaked beneath you, the sounds of your passion filling the room.

His hands roamed over your body, gripping your breasts and pinching your nipples with a roughness that sent jolts of pleasure through you.

''Tell me how much you want this,'' he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

God did he sound hot when he was being like this. It always surprised you to see this side of your nerdy, dorky, and all in all sweet and doting boyfriend. But it never ceased to amaze you how well he took on the role of being dominant and assertive.

“I want it so much,” you gasped, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. ''I need you, Spencer.''

''Yeah? My pretty baby needs me, hm?'' He cooed as he pulled out before slamming back in, making you arch your back, your breasts pressing up against his chest. ''Spencer...'' You moaned softly, your hands tightening their hold on the sheets.

''Come one, baby, you're so close aren't you?'' You let out a breathless moan as his pace quickened, his thrusts getting rougher, his cock kissing your cervix. ''Yes... yes... so close.'' You babbled out.

''Come, come around my cock like a good girl,'' Spencer demanded as he continued his relentless and hard thrusts, leaning down to capture your lips. Your hands let go of the sheets, drifting up into his brown locks, clutching onto the strands of hair. A particularly hard thrust made your mouth open more, allowing Spencer to slip his tongue inside. Your tongues battling against each other, swirling around one another.

Your climax was close, you could feel it— could feel the tight coil in your stomach about to burst. One of Spencer's hands moved from your hips to your breast, kneading at the flesh, groping and pinching your nipple. ''Fuck... I'm gonna cum.'' You mumbled against his lips before your orgasm came crashing over you. Spencer's lips silenced your wanton moan. Your vision went completely white as the blissful feeling washed over you, your body shuddering as your release coated his cock.

Spencer pulled away from your lips, both of you breathless as he was seeking out his own release. ''I'm right behind you, baby.'' His forehead pressed against yours as his thrusts grew more sloppy and unsynched, ''Just. A. Few. More.'' He said between each thrust before he reached his own peak, his cum coating your gummy walls as he came with a shuddering growl.

You felt the warmth of him, his cock twitching as he filled you completely.

As he collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the bed, you could feel the lingering warmth of his cum inside you. Spencer’s hands moved gently over your skin, his touch tender and soothing after the rough intensity of his movements.

''Did I hurt you?'' he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with affection and satisfaction. ''No, you didn’t hurt me. You were amazing, per usual.''

He smiled, a mixture of relief and contentment in his brown eyes. ''I’m glad. I just wanted you to know how much I care about you. I never want to see you hurt.''

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. ''You were really fucking hot when you manhandled that guy at the bar.'' You muttered, slotting your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked up at him.

He looked down at you, a smirk forming on his lips, ''Yeah? You thought it was hot?'' You nodded in response, pulling him down to meet your lips in a soft kiss before you relaxed your forehead against his.

''Yeah, it's a shame you didn't have handcuffs on you. Would've loved to see you go all bad cop on him.'' You giggled as you looked at him.

Spencer chuckled, giving your cheek a chaste kiss, ''I'll remember that next time a guy tries putting his hands on my girl.''

''Mhm.. I'd love to see that.''

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 3. New Trails

Masterlist

Summary: You and Riley take the beaten path to defeat boredom. Simon realizes that the seed of his new obsession has been planted.

Warnings: mild cursing, obsessive behavior

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

Simon sat stoically on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

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