#i know one of my friends mentioned possibly rooming together so i could ask what they think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daisymbin · 4 months ago

Text

for lovers who hesitate - choi seungcheol

warnings: cheating ex, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), shotgun marriage (not reader), some curse words, mentions of blood (seungcheol in a fight), some angst (mostly on seungcheol's part, some of reader's towards the end) + this is a long fic so I'm sure I missed out stuff, my apologies. please let me know what I missed out so I can add them in!

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: fake dating, resurface of old feelings (reader) & a down bad choi seungcheol

wc: 13k (not sure what happened i was aiming 3500-5000 but oh well.)

a/n: 13k words...my longest fic on here yet..... this took quite awhile, even proofreading was a challenge, so I hope you guys enjoyed this one! but fr, I early respect and admire authors who always belt out 30k word fics, it's really not easy i don't even wanna think about it. it's one thing to get a long fic done and another to proofreading it all oof. ... and no writer really only proofreads it once

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

“you've got mail~” seokmin sings down the hallway of your shared apartment, “it looks like a wedding invite…” his voice trails off, “are any of our friends getting married? why didn't I receive one?”

seokmin's question was reasonable, you did both have the same friend group, you grew up together, having tons and tons of mutual friends, you went almost everywhere together. he's like the brother you never had. but now he's got your interest piqued as well. who could it be?

on your hand sits a wedding invitation, beautifully adorned with gold accents, pink flowers litter the edges of the invite, a bright pop of colour in contrast to the plain white.

seokmin snatches the invite out of your hand, opening the invite as he reads, “you are cordially invited to celebrate the joy of han- what the fuck? is this a joke?” seokmin shuts the invite close and crumples it, “what the hell does that guy want?”

“han minjun?” you asked as curiosity plagues your mind. seokmin’s reaction only amplifies your own confusion, and you reach out to grab the crumpled invitation from his hands, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. his name stares back at you, a name you had once thought you’d never have to see or hear again. but here it is, boldly printed, like a ghost from the past come to haunt you.

“han minjun…” you murmur, your voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of disbelief and absurdity. the memories come rushing back like a tidal wave, each one hitting you harder than the last. you remember the good days first, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but those sweet memories are soon overshadowed by the darker ones, the ones you had worked so hard to forget.

you remember the way he’d become distant, how the warmth in his eyes had faded, and the excuses he’d given whenever you asked what was wrong. you remember the pit in your stomach when he’d cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was swamped with work, even though you could hear the laughter of friends in the background whenever he called.

then there was that one night, the night everything shattered. you had gone to his apartment, unannounced, carrying takeout and hoping to surprise him. the sight that greeted you instead was something you’d never forget. minjun had been in his living room, his hand tugging on another girl’s hair, the other on her waist as they makeout heavily. their light giggles echoing through the walls you thought you knew so well. you’d dropped the food in shock, the containers spilling onto the floor, and the way minjun’s face had paled when he saw you�� it was a moment forever etched into your heart.

“its not what it looks like,” he’d said, scrambling for an explanation, but all you felt was betrayal, the heartache, the realization that the person you’d trusted had broken you in a way you never thought possible.

you come back to the present as seokmin's voice pulls you back, “oh i dropped a post it, ‘hope to see you there - kim hanna’ who the hell is kim hanna?” seokmin reaches for the invite again, his eyes scanning the words imprinted on the paper, “kim hanna…isnt she the girl he cheated on you with? that little bi- how dare she send this invi- SHE'S MARRYING HIM?” seokmin's mouth ran faster than body allowed, never finishing his sentence, but you heard and understood every word.

you snatch the invite back. the wedding is in 2 weeks.

are you hurt? no. heartbroken? no. sad? no. upset? just a little bit. angry? oh yes, yes you were. all the anger still simmering beneath the surface as you grip the wedding invite tightly. seokmin watches you with concern, his earlier frustration shifting into worry as he notices the way anger starts to consume you.

“you okay?” he asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

you softened, “yeah i just… i can’t believe he’s getting married after everything he did.”

seokmin’s grip tightens, his protective brother instincts kicking in. “you don’t have to go,” he says firmly. “and if you decide to, you won’t go alone. i’ll be right there with you, you know the boys will be too. whatever you need.”

his words bring a small sense of comfort, but the invitation still feels like a dagger, reopening wounds you thought had finally healed. “oh I'm definitely going,”

“why?”

“just because. & I need a date-”

“I can be your date.”

“no you can't.”

“why not?”

“because i need my date to be my fake boyfriend. i cant show up all single to an ex's wedding & everyone knows we grow up together. we're practically siblings we would never ever date each other! that's disgusting."

seokmin's fake dramatic gasp only leaves your laughing, the anger that once resided is now long forgotten. “how can you say that?” he continues, “don't you watch movies? don't you read books? or even better, fanfiction? that's like a really popular trope and it's popular for a reason! why? because it's real, it happens. what if I'm in love with you and you just don't know it? then what? you could have seriously hurt my feelings!”

“yeah could have, that means I didn't. and don't think I forgot about the time we all played truth or dare and chan dared you to kiss me and you literally threw up from how repulsed you were by me. how could you possibly be in love with me? unless...you puked because you were nervous.." you said as you wiggled your eyebrows disturbingly. “also what hell fanfiction do you read? why didnt i know about that?”

“EW!!!" he screams as he steps away from you, "AS IF YOU COULD EVER MAKE ME NERVOUS!"

“& the fanfiction? what do you read? come on, spill!”

“that's none of your business.”

“seok-”

“beyonce x reader.” it was almost as if he was dying to tell you.

the laugh you burst out only brings relief to seokmin, now he knows you're really okay. you've moved on, just angry at the audacity of them. “please beyonce would never pick you.” you joked as you got up from the sofa. “come on, be serious, this is serious stuff. I need a fake boyfriend.”

“ask seungcheol.” seokmin answers easily without missing a beat, as if the answer was obvious.

“why seungcheol?” you heart raced at the mere idea of seungcheol being your date for the night, let alone boyfriend.

“because…he never says no to you. like ever,” he gives a brief, small smile before he turns to walk away. “oh and also, don't you think he'd fit the role perfectly?”

[—]

but that's what happens when seokmin plants the idea in your head, because you now find yourself in seungcheol's apartment.

you sit in seungcheol’s living room, heart pounding as you try to muster the courage to speak. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, looking at you with his usual gentle, patient expression. but somehow, today, that patience makes your nerves worse. you’re not sure why you’re suddenly so embarrassed; maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to search your face for any hint of what’s coming.

“so… what did you want to ask me?” he prompts, his voice warm and inviting, though there’s a hint of curiosity lurking beneath it.

you swallow, your palms damp. “you can totally say no if you want to, there’s no pressure at all but um-”

seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow at your hesitation, “you’re making me nervous,” he jokes, though there’s a genuine note of concern in his eyes. “what’s going on?”

you inhale deeply, avoiding his gaze as you force the words out. “so, i got this wedding invite. from…my ex.” you don’t have to elaborate for seungcheol to know which ex you mean. his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something dark passing over his expression before he smooths it out.

“han minjun,” he says, and the way he says the name makes it sound like a curse. his hands uncross, one clenching the back of a chair as he leans into it. “are you… are you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly, “i’m okay, really. just…it's in two weeks, and he’s marrying the girl he—” you stop yourself before the floodgate of bad memories start flowing. you look up at seungcheol, feeling your face grow warm. “anyway, that’s not the point. the point is…i need a date.”

seungcheol’s eyes soften, his tension melting away just a bit. “oh,” he says, and a smile tugs at his lips in realization, “you want me to be your date?”

“yes. i mean-” you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “only if you’re okay with it. you don’t have to-”

“of course,” he interrupts, his answer immediate, his voice firm. “if it’s for that, there’s no way i’d say no.” his protective instincts flare up at the mere thought of you facing your ex alone, and he wants to be there for you, to shield you from any pain that might resurface.

you feel relief wash over you, but then the real request lodges itself in your throat. you take a deep breath. “but… not just as a date,” you say quietly. “i need… i need a fake boyfriend. i can’t just show up to his wedding…single.”

seungcheol blinks, and for a moment, he thinks you’re joking. you watch as his expression shifts, surprise giving way to something more complicated. his smile falters, and his eyes search yours for any hint of hesitation, or a joke even. any indication that you might realize what this could mean for him.

a fake boyfriend. the words echo in his mind, and his heart aches, even as he tries to keep his face neutral. he’s spent the past 3 years hiding his feelings, protecting your friendship, waiting for a moment that never seemed to come. and now, here you are, asking him to pretend.

“a fake boyfriend,” he repeats, and his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of something broken underneath. he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to hold your hand, to smile at you, to pretend to be the one who gets to loves you openly…only to have it all stripped away when the charade is over. he knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but how can he say no to you? how could he ever refuse you when you look at him like that?

“cheol?” you ask hesitantly, noticing his pause. “is that… is that too much to ask? i’m sorry, it’s just-”

he shakes his head quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “no, it’s not too much,” he says softly. “if that’s what you need, then… i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up with hope, and he wishes he could bottle up the way you look at him, keep it forever.

“really,” he confirms, even though his heart is already starting to fracture. he pushes down the longing, the desperate yearning to be more than just a fake. because he knows this is all he’ll get—a bittersweet taste of something he can’t truly have. but for now, he’ll take what he can get. even if it means breaking his own heart for the chance to be close to you.

[—]

“rules. we need rules. oh and boundaries. just to be safe, you know? not make it weird.” you informed as you pick up a piece of blank paper & pen from your desk before jumping onto bed.

seungcheol lies on his stomach on your bed as he waits for you, “what kind of rules and boundaries do you have in mind?” he asks.

“well for one, no falling in love. like, we both have to promise that this stays strictly pretend. we can’t let it mess with our friendship.”

for a moment, silence fills the room. when you glance at seungcheol, his expression is unreadable. “no falling in love,” he repeats quietly, his voice almost too steady. you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens, the way he clenches his fist against the sheets.

you give him a nervous smile. “exactly. we both need to agree to that.”

“right,” he says, his voice softer now. “no falling in love.” he repeats louder this time, his heart aches at the irony, because if only you knew how deeply he’s already fallen. but he forces himself to nod, to play along, to act like he isn’t breaking the very first rule you laid out just by being here. “any other rules?”

“um, yeah,” you continue, scribbling your next point onto the paper. “okay,” you say, oblivious to the turmoil in his chest. “it has to be believable. like, no half-assing it. if we’re going to do this, we have to commit. but, uh, within reason, of course.”

seungcheol chuckles at that, the sound breaking through the tension. “within reason?” he echoes, his smile genuine this time.

“yeah, nothing too….much,”

“& what exactly is too much?”

“kisses,” you answer without missing a beat.

seungcheol smiles, "so, i can’t kiss you, even if it’s just for an act?"

you pause, thinking over his question. the way he says it, so casual yet so heavy, sends a shiver down your spine. “i mean… kisses are too intimate. that crosses the line.” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how nervous the thought of kissing him makes you.

seungcheol watches you closely, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “too intimate?” he repeats, almost teasingly, but there’s something more in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “but aren’t we supposed to look like we’re really together? won’t people think it’s suspicious if we… don’t at least pretend that we’re comfortable with that?”

“no one’s expecting a porno of us making out,” you argue, your cheeks warming at the implication. what a poor choice of words. “hand-holding, hugs, maybe a forehead or a cheek kiss if we’re feeling bold. but anything beyond that…” you trail off, your mind spinning and butterflies threatening to invade your tummy at the thought of seungcheol’s lips anywhere near yours.

he hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “so, kisses are off the table. got it,” he says, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that you dont pick up. “any other rules?”

“that's all i can think of for now, what about you? anything you dont want me to do? anything to add?” you ask.

“no, I'll do whatever you want me to.” he says, a mixture of fondness and longing swirling in his chest.

“okay, i guess we're really doing this huh?” you ask as you feel some tension leave your body.

“yeah,” he murmurs, even as his heart screams at the unfairness of it all. if only you knew just how real it already was for him.

[—]

“did you actually really ask seungcheol to be your fake boyfriend?” seungkwan questions, taking another sip from his iced americano, his eyes narrowing at you suspiciously.

you sigh, pressing your palms to your face. “how did you even find out about that?”

“seokmin told me. now answer me! did you actually?” seungkwan presses, his tone both exasperated and concerned. he’s your best friend. he knows every secret, every late-night confession, and every tear you’ve ever shed over seungcheol.

you glance away, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “yeah... i did,” you admit softly.

seungkwan lets out a small groan, leaning back in his seat. he’s silent for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his judgment hanging between you. but there’s something else there, too. something heavier, deeper. regret, maybe.

four years ago, you were a helpless mess, pinning after seungcheol like a lovesick fool. seungkwan remembered the way you’d light up whenever seungcheol was around, the way your laughter sounded a little brighter, your smile a little wider. and he remembered the way seungcheol seemed oblivious, never showing a sign of returning your feelings.

seungkwan had wanted to help you. he’d been desperate to see you happy, to save you from the heartache that came from unrequited love. so he’d done the only thing he could think of at the time: he’d set you up with someone else.

“do you remember when i introduced you to minjun?” seungkwan asks, his voice suddenly quieter, more somber.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “of course i do,” you reply. how could you forget? you’d been resistant at first, clinging to the faint hope that seungcheol would notice you one day. but seungkwan had been insistent. he’d told you that minjun was a good guy, someone who could make you happy, someone who could help you move on.

“you were so against it,” seungkwan recalls, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “but you finally agreed, and... well, you actually hit it off.”

a small laugh escapes your lips, though it lacks any real humor. “yeah. we did.”

for a while, dating han minjun had felt like a breath of fresh air. he was charming, thoughtful, and everything you thought you needed. for a moment, you’d even believed you’d moved on from seungcheol. but now, years later, here you were again, tangled up in your feelings for him, pretending to date him, no less.

seungkwan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “you know, i really did think minjun was a good guy back then. i just... i didn’t want to see you hurt anymore.” his voice wavers, and you can tell he feels guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault that things turned out this way.

“i know,” you murmur. “you were just trying to help.”

seungkwan sighs, setting his juice box down. “but now you’re back to seungcheol, except this time it’s... fake. and that worries me.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know how to explain that being with seungcheol, even if it’s just for show, feels better than being with anyone else. even if it hurts a little. or maybe a lot.

“it’s complicated,” you whisper, but seungkwan isn’t satisfied. his eyes bore into yours, filled with worry and protectiveness, like he’s already bracing for the heartbreak he’s sure is coming.

[—]

“do you think we should pick something that matches or just, you know, kind of goes together?” you ask, sifting through rows of dresses, your fingers brushing over various shades of fabric.

seungcheol tries to focus on the suits in front of him, but he’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your voice lilts at the end of your question. “hm?” he clears his throat, hoping you don’t notice how he’s completely lost his train of thought. “yeah, matching is… good.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “that didn’t answer my question, cheol.”

he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “sorry. what was it again?”

“do you want our outfits to match?” you repeat, holding up a dress. it’s a deep, elegant navy blue, and seungcheol’s heart does a weird little flip. “like this one? it’s the same color as that suit you’re holding.”

seungcheol swallows hard, imagining the two of you side by side, perfectly coordinated, like a couple in a fairytale. he tries to shake the thought away. “yeah, that’s… perfect,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you seem satisfied with his answer, disappearing into the dressing room to try it on. seungcheol stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, heart pounding for no reason he can justify. he’s known you for years, been by your side for countless moments, but something about this—the idea of the two of you dressed up together, the way you trusted his opinion—feels different, it makes his heart race.

“cheol?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, his breath catching in his throat as you step out of the dressing room.

he’s not prepared for the sight. you look… breathtaking, the dress fitting you in a way that leaves him momentarily stunned. his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.

you tilt your head, concern flickering in your eyes. “is it bad?”

“no!” he blurts out, voice cracking embarrassingly. he clears his throat again; surprised at his own voice, his cheeks burning. “no, you look—” he stammers, searching for the right words, his mind a complete mess. but then, he smiles his boyish smile, his dimples dipping more than they usually do & says “god, you look… beautiful. really beautiful.”

you blink, taken aback, and seungcheol swears he sees your cheeks flush a little. he’s painfully aware of how warm his own face feels, how his hands are suddenly clammy.

“thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. you look at him, eyes wide and earnest, and seungcheol can’t handle it. he has to look away, but not before he sees the small smile spreading across your face.

he fiddles with the cuff of his suit jacket, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “you… you really think this is the one?” he asks, his voice cracking again. he winces.

you nod, your smile growing. “i think it’s perfect. but… what about your suit?”

he’s still trying to recover from seeing you in that dress, but he manages to nod. “right, my suit,” he says, forcing himself to focus. “i’ll go try it on.”

you sit down on a bench, and seungcheol practically sprints to the fitting room, his heart pounding. he stares at his reflection as he pulls on the navy suit jacket, trying to breathe. he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up from how many times he’s run his hands through it, his face still red.

“come on, cheol,” he mutters to himself. “get it together.”

when he finally steps out, he catches the way your eyes light up, the way you look him over and nod approvingly. “that’s perfect,” you say, and his heart does that stupid flip again. “we’ll look great together.”

he laughs, but it’s a weak attempt to hide how fast his heart is racing. “yeah. we will.” the words come out before he can stop them; even he knows he sounds completely & irrevocably smitten but he can’t help it, not when you’re looking at him like that.

[—]

“so, did you say yes to being her date?” seokmin asked casually, thumbs tapping furiously at the controller in his hands as he and seungcheol tried to hold their ground in the game. “you know, her fake boyfriend and all that?”

seungcheol’s fingers faltered on the buttons for a split second, and he shot seokmin a glare. “yah, focus on the game, we can't lose,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up. but, of course, seokmin had to bring it up now.

“wait, what?” wonwoo’s attention snapped away from the screen, his character on the verge of getting attacked. he gawked at seungcheol. “when did this happen? and why didn’t you tell us?”

soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his character in the game momentarily stood still. “hold on, hold on,” he said, nearly dropping his controller in shock. “hyung, you’re telling us you agreed to be her date and fake boyfriend, and we’re only hearing about this now?”

“can we not talk about this?” seungcheol muttered, trying to refocus on the game, but his heart was racing. the way his stomach twisted at the mention of you and the fake dating arrangement wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—especially not with his friends teasing him about it.

“absolutely not,” soonyoung protested, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten. “this is big news, hyung! you have to spill.”

“yeah, seungcheol,” wonwoo added, a sly grin spreading across his face. “why didn’t you tell us? don’t act like it’s not a huge deal.”

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders tensing as he kept his eyes on the screen. “because it’s not a big deal, its only for a day anyway,” he insisted, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.

“you’re so full of it,” wonwoo said, barely holding back a laugh. “you've been in love with her for god knows how long, now you agreed to be her date and pretend to be her boyfriend. how is that not a big deal?”

unfortunately, soonyoung & wonwoo, have possession over seungcheol's not so secret, secret. but really, everyone knows, it's only a secret to you, seungkwan & seokmin although seokmin has been starting to catch on for the past few months. everyone else has miraculously managed to somehow keep their mouth shut around seokmin and seungkwan for 3 years; knowing how close you are with the two of them. I guess in a way you could say the boys are loyal to him? anyways.

seungcheol’s grip on his controller tightened. “can we just focus on winning?” he pleaded, desperate to change the subject, but his friends’ curiosity was palpable.

“fine,” soonyoung said with an exaggerated sigh. “but we’re coming back to this later.”

just as seungcheol was about to let out a breath of relief, the sound of the front door opening made his heart stutter, and he turned his head, unable to help himself. you stepped into the apartment, bags in hand, looking slightly windswept but effortlessly beautiful.

“hey, i’m home!” you greeted, smiling at everyone.

seungcheol’s mind blanked, his focus slipping away entirely as he took you in. he barely registered seokmin’s frantic warning—“hyung, watch out!”—before his character was obliterated in the game.

“yes!” soonyoung cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “we won, wonwoo!”

wonwoo leaned back with a smug smile, “thank you,” he said, looking over at you.

you blinked, confused. “me? what did i do?”

wonwoo’s eyes glinted with mischief. “it’s nothing you need to know… yet,” he replied, his voice teasing, and he shot you a knowing smile. “but thank you anyway.”

you tilted your head, clearly still confused, but you shrugged it off. “okay, if you say so,” you said, heading down the hall. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

seungcheol watched you disappear, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how badly he’d let himself get distracted. he could feel the heat rising to his face, embarrassment and longing twisting in his chest.

seungcheol couldn't let it show. or at least, he thought he didn’t. he tried to play it cool, act normal around you, and pretend that his heart didn’t stutter every time you called his name. but apparently, seokmin noticed.

“you’ve got that look again,” seokmin pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.

seungcheol turned to find seokmin leaning against the backrest of the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. he blinked, feigning ignorance. “what look?”

“you know,” seokmin drawled, pushing himself off the backrest to lean closer to seungcheol “that look you get when she’s around.”

seungcheol felt his pulse skip, an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck. he avoided seokmin’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, hoping his voice sounded steady.

“sure you don’t.” seokmin plopped down beside him, elbow nudging his ribs. “c’mon, hyung. you’re not exactly subtle.”

seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “it’s not like that,” he insisted, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded.

seokmin raised an eyebrow. “really?” he asked, voice softening. “because the way you look at her…you look at her like you'd burn down the whole world for her.”

seungcheol’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, finally meeting seokmin’s gaze. there was no judgment there, only curiosity and a quiet sort of understanding.

“i didn’t mean to,” seungcheol admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “it just… happened.”

seokmin’s smile was gentle now, the teasing gone. “and what are you gonna do about it?”

seungcheol’s hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “nothing,” he said, bitterness seeping into the word. “she’s too important. if i mess this up… i can’t lose her.”

seokmin studied him for a moment, the silence stretching between them. “but what if you don’t lose her?” he said quietly. “what if she feels the same way?”

seungcheol’s heart twisted painfully. the thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count, but he always pushed it away, too afraid to hope. “and what if she doesn’t?” he countered, his voice breaking. “i’d rather be close to her like this than lose everything.”

seokmin sighed, leaning back on his hands. “i get it,” he murmured. “but you can’t live your whole life being afraid. sometimes, you’ve got to take the risk.”

seungcheol let out a humorless laugh. “easy for you to say,” he mumbled, but his chest felt a little lighter, the weight of his secret shared, even if just for a moment.

seokmin’s smile returned, playful once more. “hey, i’m rooting for you,” he said, clapping a hand on seungcheol’s shoulder. “but seriously, the way you look at her… it’s gonna give you away one day.”

seungcheol swallowed, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “maybe,” he whispered. “but not today.”

seokmin grinned, standing up and offering a hand to pull seungcheol to his feet. “well, just know i’ll be there to say ‘i told you so’ when it happens.”

seungcheol took his hand, rising to his feet. “yeah, yeah,” he said, but his heart felt a little less heavy & a lot more hopeful.

[—]

seungcheol stood outside your bedroom door with seokmin, heart pounding as he took a steadying breath. it wasn’t the first time he was picking you up, but today felt different. maybe it was the gravity of the wedding you were attending, or maybe it was the fact that this arrangement had slowly become more real for him than he ever dared admit.

“hyung, you okay?” seokmin asked, glancing at him curiously.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “yeah,” he lied, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “let’s just…get this over with.” he lied, it hasn't even started yet but he doesnt want it to end.

seokmin gave him a sorry look but said nothing, and before seungcheol could dwell on it, you opened the door to your room. his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak. you stood there, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, hair styled perfectly, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.

he was so down bad for you, it was almost pathetic.

he couldn't help the boyish smile that adorned his face, “you look… beautiful.” he didn’t trust himself to say more, afraid that if he did, the truth would come spilling out.

a faint blush dusted your cheeks, and you smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults. “thanks, cheol,” you said shyly, adjusting your dress. “you clean up pretty well yourself.

he let out a laugh, hoping it masked the way his pulse was racing. “you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to you. “our grand entrance awaits.”

you hesitated for the briefest moment, but then you slipped your hand into his, and he had to fight the urge to hold on tighter, to pull you closer and never let go. he couldn’t, of course. this was all an act. just a performance to keep up appearances, to help you save face in front of your ex and everyone else.

but god, how he wished it were real.

[—]

the car ride was quiet at first, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. seungcheol couldn’t help but glance at you every few seconds, noting the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he knew you well enough to recognize the signs of your anxiety, and his chest tightened.

“hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand in his. your eyes widened in surprise, but you dont pull away. instead, you stared at your intertwined fingers, and he wondered if you could feel his heart pounding.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more careful. “if you’re not, we can turn around. we don’t have to go.”

you shook your head, a small, determined smile forming on your lips. “i’m fine,” you whispered. “it’s just… weird, you know? seeing him get married.”

seungcheol swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. he hated that minjun hurt you and how he couldn’t do anything but hold your hand and hope it was enough.

“if you want to leave at any point,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “just say the word. i’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like he was being laid bare under your gaze, your eyes boring into his. “thank you, cheol,” you murmured, and your voice cracked just a little. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his chest ached, a mix of longing and fear swirling inside him. he wanted to tell you that he’d always be there, that he’d never leave, but he didn’t. instead, he settled for rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping you couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.

the silence in the car was comfortable, but electric, charged with something unspoken. the way your shoulders relaxed under his touch, the way your breathing evened out as he held your hand—it was almost enough to make him believe that you felt the same way.

but that was dangerous territory, and seungcheol knew better than to get his hopes up.

“you know,” he said lightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from the ache in his chest, “you’re kind of incredible. not everyone could handle a situation like this with so much grace.”

you laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “i don’t know about that or this grace you speak of,” you said. “i’m still trying to convince myself not to run away.”

“if you run,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll run with you. we can both escape and go somewhere far away. just the two of us.”

the joke made you laugh, but there was a wistful note to it, and seungcheol had to look away to keep himself from saying something stupid. his heart was a mess, pounding wildly with every word, every touch, every second he spent in your presence.

“thanks, cheol,” you said again, your voice quieter now. “really. i’m so lucky to have you.”

seungcheol drove on, your hand still in his, hoping that this moment would last a little longer.

[—]

the wedding had gone off without a hitch, at least on the surface. the vows had been exchanged, laughter and applause filling the air, and now the reception was in full swing. seungcheol had been trying his best to stay close to you, to keep you from feeling the weight of the memories this day might bring. but as he returned with your drinks, he froze.

there you were, standing stiffly, looking more tense than he’d seen you all night. and, of course, minjun was in front of you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned in, saying something seungcheol couldn’t quite hear. your polite smile was brittle, your shoulders tense, and anger flared in his chest.

he forced himself to take a calming breath before approaching, setting your drinks down on a nearby table and stepping in between you & minjun, “hey,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. “everything okay here?”

your eyes darted to him, a flicker of relief crossing your face. you tried to smile, but it wavered. “yeah,” you said, your voice a little too tight. “we were just… talking.”

minjun glanced at seungcheol, an eyebrow arching. “seungcheol?” he asked, a smug smile playing on his lips. “fancy seeing you here, i dont remember including you in the invite?” he quirked an eyebrow.

you opened your mouth, your voice coming out steadier this time. “actually, he's my plus one, since we're dating.”

“dating? as in, he's your boyfriend?” minjun asked as he sneaked a glance at seungcheol.

“yes, actually.” your words sent your stomach doing flips.

the disbelief on minjun’s face was palpable. he snorted, his gaze flicking between the two of you as if you’d just told a joke. “boyfriend? really?” he smirked, clearly unconvinced. “come on. that’s a little desperate, don’t you think?” minjun tries to reach for your hand.

before you could react, seungcheol stepped forward, his hand moving to reach for yours protectively; staking his claim. “i don’t think your wife,” he said, emphasizing the word with a hint of sarcasm, “would appreciate you making my girlfriend uncomfortable.”

minjun’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back down. “prove it,” he challenged, crossing his arms. “you really expect me to believe this… whatever this is?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “we don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “& you certainly don't have the right to ask for anything, much less a proof, not after all the shit you’ve done.”

minjun’s expression soured, but before he could respond, seungcheol turned to you, his eyes softening. “come on, pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and eyes earnest,. “dance with me?”

you stomach did somersaults, seungcheol watches you intently, he watches the way your expression melts into a grateful smile. you leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” you whispered, so quietly he barely heard it.

his heart stuttered in his chest, warmth flooding through him. but he forced himself to push the feeling away, to remind himself that this was all for show. you were only doing this because minjun was watching, because you needed to keep up the pretense. there was no way you actually meant that kiss, no way you felt the same fluttering in your chest that he did.

but he couldn’t help the way his heart betrayed him, the way his entire body seemed to light up at the simple touch of your lips on his skin. he swallowed, hoping you didn’t notice the way his cheeks flushed, and offered you his hand.

“let’s go,” you said, taking his hand, your smile genuine and warm.

the music had shifted to a slow song, and seungcheol led you onto the dance floor, his fingers still intertwined with yours. his heart was pounding, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on you, on the way you were looking at him now, your eyes so full of trust and something he couldn’t quite place.

“thank you,” you said again, your voice a little steadier this time.

he gave you a small smile, trying to keep his emotions in check. “i’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice soft. “you know that, right?”

you nodded, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your waist. “i do,” you whispered, and for a moment, he thought he saw something more in your eyes. something he desperately wanted to believe in.

seungcheol tried to ignore the way your body fit so perfectly against his, the way your smile sent his heart racing. he couldn’t let himself read too much into the way you were looking at him.

but it was so, so hard.

“cheol,” you said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “can i ask you something?”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “of course.”

“why did you say yes?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “to being my date and… pretending to be my boyfriend?”

his breath caught in his throat. he hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t sure how to answer without giving himself away. “because you needed me to,” he said finally, and it was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “and i’d do anything for you.”

your eyes softened, and he wondered if you could see right through him, if you knew just how badly he was hurting, just how desperately he wanted this to be real.

“you’re too good to me,” you whispered.

he shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said. “i’m just… selfish.”

you tilted your head, confused. “selfish?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying on his tongue. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t ruin this. “never mind,” he said, forcing a laugh. “just… ignore me.”

but you didn’t. your gaze lingered on him, searching, and he had to look away before he did something stupid, like confess right then and there.

“cheol,” you said, your voice so soft it made his heart ache. “what are you hiding?”

“nothing,” he lied, pulling you a little closer, trying to focus on the music instead of the way your eyes were looking right into his soul. “i’m not hiding anything.”

but he was. he was hiding everything. the way he loved you, the way he wanted you, the way he’d give anything to be more than…this.

“okay,” you said finally, but he could hear the doubt in your voice. “if you say so.”

“you know,” he said as he let out a small sigh, his voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to kiss my cheek just now. not for minjun’s sake, anyway.”

you tilted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i didn’t do it for him,” you said quietly as seungcheol watches your eyes sparkle and dilate, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

“then… why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

your gaze searching his face. “just because.. i wanted to.”

seungcheol’s mind went blank, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the sudden, overwhelming rush of hope that filled his chest.

“should we call it a night?” you asked, your voice gentle as you turned to seungcheol, who still seemed lost in thought. you weren’t sure if it was because of the way you had kissed his cheek earlier or if he was still worried about you, but his expression had been hard to read.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. “yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “let’s head home. but, uh, let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”

you nodded, offering him a small smile. “i’ll wait by the entrance.”

he nodded back, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he turned and made his way to the restroom. as he walked, he felt his heart racing, the memory of your soft kiss on his cheek replaying in his mind. you’d said it was just because you wanted to, but that couldn’t mean anything... right?

seungcheol washed his hands, letting the cool water calm him down. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. he doesn't really want this night to end, he's not ready for that yet.

but that’s when he heard it: voices coming from one of the stalls, low but loud enough to catch his attention.

“man, i still can’t believe you're actually married,” one voice said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “and only because you got her pregnant. how the hell did you screw up that bad?”

what the hell? seungcheol’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay quiet, listening.

“don’t remind me,” minjun’s familiar voice replied. “i know, okay? it’s not like i love her or anything. but i couldn’t just bail, you know? had to do the right thing, i guess.”

the right thing? seungcheol thinks to himself, yet cheating on you is okay?

the friend laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “still, hanna’s nothing compared to your ex. that girl is so much hotter than your wife. you should’ve stayed with her.”

seungcheol’s grip on the sink tightened, his knuckles going white.

“hey, i made a mistake,” minjun grumbled, clearly defensive. “she really is hot. i was just thinking with my other head back then, okay?”

“yeah, well,” his friend drawled, “i would’ve made a move on her tonight if she hadn’t walked in with that new boyfriend of hers. what’s his name again? seungcheol or something?”

“yeah, well, i tried to,” minjun admitted, and seungcheol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “but he showed up before i could.”

“did you see the dress she was wearing?” minjun laughed as he added, “she's got such a killer body…bet I could make her cheat on that boyfriend of hers, what do you say? 50 bucks? bet on it?”

that was it. the final straw. anger flared hot and fierce in seungcheol’s chest, and before he knew it, he was storming over to the stall. he yanked the door open, and the look of shock on both men’s faces did nothing to quell his rage.

“what the fuck did you say? you think you can talk about her like that?” seungcheol growled, his voice low and dangerous. “after everything you’ve done?”

minjun barely had time to react before seungcheol’s fist connected with his jaw. the fight was quick, brutal, and messy, with fists flying and the sound of grunts echoing off the bathroom walls. seungcheol didn’t care about the pain in his knuckles or the way his cheek throbbed from a poorly blocked punch. all he cared about was defending your honor, protecting you from these men who had no right to even think about you, let alone look in your direction.

when seungcheol finally left the bathroom, his heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. his cheeks were slightly bloodied and his knuckles were bruised.

but before he could reach the entrance to get to you, someone grabbed his arm. he turned, only to see hanna, minjun’s wife, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. “oh my god,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “what happened to you?”

at first, she seemed genuinely worried, but then her eyes raked over him, and her concern twisted into something more flirtatious. she reached out, her hands brushing against his arms. “you look so hot like this with all the bruises,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his biceps.

seungcheol stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away. “don't,” he held a hand up, “i have a girlfriend,” he said firmly, stepping back. he glanced around, hoping you hadn’t seen any of this.

but you had. your eyes had caught sight of the scene, the way hanna's hands lingered on seungcheol’s arms, and your stomach twisted painfully. you didn’t understand why it hurt so much to see it, why your heart felt heavy and your chest ached. this was seungcheol, your good friend. you’d moved on from this heartbreak years ago... right?

you tore your gaze away, your mind spinning. you couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy, the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him with someone else, but it made no sense. seungcheol was just your friend. nothing more.

when seungcheol finally made his way over to you, unaware that you saw him & hanna, was careful not to mention it or the fight that happened. instead, he focused on the gossip he’d overheard in the bathroom. “hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “did you know?”

you barely registered his words, your mind still replaying the image of hanna's hands on his arms. your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t explain why.

“apparently,” seungcheol continued, “this whole wedding is a shotgun marriage. she’s pregnant, and that’s why they’re doing all this.” he paused, searching your face for any reaction, but you weren’t really hearing him.

“huh?” you finally said, blinking as you came back to the present. your eyes widened when you took in his bruised knuckles and the cut on his cheek. “oh my god, seungcheol. what happened to you?”

“did you hear anything of what i just said?” he asked, a mixture of frustration and worry in his voice.

you glared at him, your concern overshadowing everything else. “no, but i’m sure it’s nowhere near as important as this,” you snapped, gesturing to his bruised face and bloodied hands.

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders slumping. “it’s nothing,” he insisted, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. not when you looked at him with so much worry, so much care, and it made his heart ache.

“nothing?” the depth of your furrowed brows going deeper, “you're bleeding, cheol.” your tone angry. “come on,” you said, your voice softening. “i’m taking you back to my place. i need to take care of those wounds.”

he tried to protest, but you wouldn’t hear it. “please, cheol,” you whispered, and the way you said his name made his heart stutter. he wanted so badly to believe that you cared, that this wasn’t just about him being your friend.

“fine,” he relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “but only because you’re so stubborn.”

you gave him a small, relieved smile, and he felt his resolve weaken even more.

back at your apartment, you lead seungcheol to the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit with a determined focus. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching you with a mixture of awe and longing. it’s overwhelming how gentle you are with him, the way your fingers tremble slightly as you gather supplies to tend to his wounds. he wants to believe this moment means something more than simple concern for a friend, that the tenderness in your gaze holds feelings he’s been longing to hear you speak out loud.

“does it hurt?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you dab a damp cloth against the cut on his cheek, your touch feather-light.

“no,” he says, his gaze never wavering from your face. the sting is nothing compared to the ache of wanting you. his heart pounds relentlessly, each beat echoing the longing he’s kept hidden for so long.

you move to bandage his knuckles, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer than necessary. “you’re so reckless,” you murmur, but your tone is soft, carrying nothing but worry.

he swallows, throat tight. “i couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that,” he admits, the words escaping before he can second-guess them.

your hands freeze. you look up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he hesitates, regret mingling with vulnerability, wanting to tell you everything but afraid of what might come next. “just... they were saying things they shouldn’t,” he settles on, the explanation falling flat compared to the storm raging inside him. “i couldn’t let it go.”

the bathroom feels smaller, the air thicker. you lean in closer, a wrinkle of worry creasing your forehead. “seungcheol…”

his hand lifts before he can stop it, and his fingers brush your cheek, gentle and unsure. “i just want to keep you safe,” he whispers, voice cracking, heart lodged in his throat. “even if it means getting a little bruised up.”

you’re so close now that your breath mingles with his, warm and intoxicating. your chest tightens, and something inside you shifts. you can’t tell if it’s the tenderness in his voice or the way his eyes seem to hold a secret you’ve always yearned to know. you feel your pulse spike, your mind racing. all the feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury come rushing back with an intensity that scares you.

you kneel in front of him, biting back the realization that you never really moved on, that you never truly stopped loving him. your feelings have been buried, but they resurface now, raw and undeniable, and you can’t pretend anymore.

“tonight was...a lot,” seungcheol says quietly, breaking the heavy silence. his eyes search yours, trying to make sense of the tension thick in the room.

you nod, hands trembling slightly as you pull back, though not far enough to break the spell. “yeah,” you manage, voice unsteady. “it was.”

seungcheol watches you with a gaze so full of longing that it makes your heart ache. he’s proud of you, he’s always been proud of you, but the way he’s looking at you now is different. “you were amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. “the way you handled everything… i’m so proud of you.”

his words break something inside of you, and before you know it, you’re leaning in, closing the distance. it’s an impulse, a mistake, but you just couldn't help yourself. your lips brush against his, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.

seungcheol freezes in shock, but then he responds. his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, and he kisses you back with a fervor that leaves you breathless. the tension snaps like a taut wire, replaced by a burst of passion, and everything you’ve both kept buried pours out.

his fingers tighten around your waist, your hands finding their way into his hair, and you lose yourself in him. the way he tastes, the way he holds you, feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. your heart races as the kiss deepens, desperate and all-consuming.

but then reality crashes over you like a tidal wave. you pull back abruptly, breaking away, your eyes wide with shock and horror. seungcheol looks dazed, lips parted, hair slightly mussed from your hands, and the sight of him so undone because of you only makes the guilt worse.

“i-” you stammer, voice cracking as you scramble to your feet. “oh my god. i’m so sorry.”

“wait-” he begins, but you’re already moving, stumbling backward, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “i shouldn’t have… we promised we wouldn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he tries to reassure you, his voice gentle yet laced with desperation. he stands, reaching for you, but you take another step back, your emotions spiraling.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, overwhelmed and terrified by the feelings that won’t stop crashing over you. “i ruined everything.”

you feel tears prick your eyes, your chest aching with regret and confusion. the kiss shattered the fragile balance between you, and you don’t know how to piece it back together. “you should go,” you manage, voice cracking. “its getting late,” your head starts feeling dizzy, “I'll call you tomorrow.”

before seungcheol can argue, before he can make sense of the whirlwind between you, you’re gone. you rush out of the bathroom, heart hammering, not sure where to go but needing to escape. the apartment feels suffocating, your feelings too much to handle, and you slam your bedroom door behind you.

you lean against it, sliding down until you’re curled up on the floor, tears spilling down your cheeks. what have you done? you kissed seungcheol, and now everything is a mess. the love you never let yourself acknowledge burns bright, and it terrifies you.

in the bathroom, seungcheol stands frozen, the ghost of your kiss still lingering on his lips. he’s never felt more hopeless, more in love, and more afraid that he’s lost you forever. the echo of your apology rings in his ears, and he clenches his fists, wishing he could take away the hurt and confusion you’re feeling.

he tells himself he’ll wait for you to call, but he’s terrified that this time, waiting might not be enough.

but still, seungcheol waits.

the days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. it had been a week since the wedding, a week since that kiss had turned his world upside down, and still, there was no call from you. you had promised, but the days passed in silence. he wanted so bad to be the one reaching out, but he knows you well enough to know that it wouldnt end well, and that you needed your own time to process things. but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between you. each morning he woke up with a sliver of hope, a quiet, desperate wish that today would be the day you would reach out. but by every nightfall, the silence was all he had. the silence, and the ache that gnawed at him constantly.

he kept replaying that moment over and over in his mind, the feel of your lips on his, the way your eyes had searched his face afterward. the hope, the confusion, the raw vulnerability—it haunted him, leaving him restless and on edge. there was something about the way you pulled away from him, your apology spilling out in a rush, that made his heart ache. his own feelings were a mess, tangled up in things he hadn’t fully understood until that kiss, much less you, right?

he tried to keep busy, to drown the thoughts that plagued him. the gym became his sanctuary, his second home, a place to work out the frustration, the ache in his chest. he lifted weights until his body screamed for rest, hoping that physical exhaustion would bring some peace. but no matter how much he tried to tire himself out, the ache remained, lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the quiet moments when it all came rushing back.

work was just a blur, the hours blending together as he went through the motions. he found himself distracted, staring at his phone more often than usual, his thumb hovering over your contact, only to put it down before he could hit send. what would he even say? what if you weren't ready yet & him reaching out only made things worse? what if you didn’t even want to hear from him? what if his feelings were just a one-sided mess that he’d have to live with forever?

the days bled into one another, each one more unbearable than the last. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he missed you—how much he longed to hear your voice, to see you again, to figure out what all of this meant. so he kept it all inside, bottled up, carrying the weight of his emotions on his own. there were moments when he could feel it, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. he had tried to be patient, to give you space, but with each passing day, that patience was wearing thin.

he wondered if he’d done something wrong. had he misread the situation? had he pushed too far when he kissed you back? maybe you only kissed him because of the atmosphere or adrenaline or whatever? every time he thought about it, he felt sick. maybe you didn’t feel the same way. maybe he had crossed a line, and now he was paying the price for it. the thought of you slipping further away from him was unbearable.

his phone sat on the coffee table, screen blank, mocking him with its silence. he had told himself he’d wait, that you’d reach out when you were ready, but the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became to believe that. he wanted to hear your voice, to know that you weren’t angry with him, to know that the kiss hadn’t ruined everything between you. but instead, he sat in his apartment, surrounded by the deafening quiet.

& seungkwan? seungkwan had been on you about it for days.

"seriously, you’re just going to leave things like this?" seungkwan had said one morning, his eyes narrowing at you over his cup of coffee. "you kissed him. you kissed seungcheol hyung. and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen. you think he’s not waiting for you to come around?"

you hadn’t responded at first, unsure of how to even begin to process it. all you could think about was the kiss, and how everything felt so wrong and so right in that moment, and how now, in the aftermath, everything was a mess.

"you’ve been so quiet about this. and it’s obvious to everyone. you’re both miserable. don’t you get it?" seungkwan continued, his voice growing more insistent. "you can’t just let it go, not after that. you owe it to yourself & especially to him to figure out what this is. what he is to you."

you had shaken your head, turning away, not wanting to face the truth. "i don’t even know what it is. i don’t know if i—"

"you’re making it worse by not doing anything," he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "stop running from it. just talk to him, okay? if you don’t, you’re going to regret it."

you sighed heavily, sinking back into the couch. you had never been good at this kind of thing, especially when it came to feelings. but something in seungkwan’s words made you pause. the last thing you wanted was to regret anything.

"i don’t know if i can," you murmured. "i don’t know if he’ll even want to talk to me after everything."

seungkwan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "stop thinking like that. he doesn’t know what to do either, so you’re both stuck, waiting for the other to make a move. just go to him. get your act together."

before you could respond, the door to your apartment unlocks, interrupting your conversation, and there stood seokmin, looking far too cheerful for the somber mood that had settled over you.

"hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, stepping inside with his usual bright smile.

you shrugged, feeling the weight of seungkwan’s words pressing on your chest. "nothing much. just… thinking."

seungkwan immediately jumped in, as if he couldn’t help himself. "you need to go talk to seungcheol. i’m so done waiting for this mess to sort itself out."

seokmin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. "ah," he crossed his arms, settling into the couch. "you’re still haven't called huh?"

"no," you admitted, your voice small. "i don’t know what to say to him."

"yeah, well, you’re not the only one," seokmin said with a sigh, his tone softening. "but running away from it won’t solve anything. look, and you know what cheol's like. if you tell him you need space & time & that you'll call him, he's gonna listen & wait for you. he’s not going to make the first move until you do so go talk to him, okay? figure it out. or at least to put that guy out of his misery."

you nodded slowly, trying to take in his words. it wasn’t that simple. it never was. but seokmin had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like maybe, you could take that first step.

seungkwan was still persistent, though. "seriously, i’m not letting you off the hook. you still love him after all these years, don’t you?"

"i don’t know," you said, your voice cracking. "i think i do, but i don’t even know how to deal with even coming to terms that i like him. everything’s so messed up. i kissed him, and now i… i don’t know what to do with all of it."

seokmin looked at you with an almost knowing smile. "sometimes, things don’t have to be figured out all at once. it’s okay to just… see what happens. go to him and talk. take it one step at a time."

seungkwan nodded eagerly, as if the suggestion had finally gotten through to you. "exactly. just go. trust me, you’re both miserable. just fix it."

the decision was made. somehow, someway, you had to go to him. you didn’t know what you were going to say, or how you were going to fix everything that had gone wrong, but you knew you had to try. the thought of never knowing how he felt, or whether you had a chance, was unbearable.

it had been days since you last saw him. days since everything had spiraled. and now here you were, on the verge of either fixing things or making them worse. you stood frozen, unsure of what to do. your hands trembled slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely out of control.

you knocked softly, but the sound felt too loud in the quiet hallway. a few moments later, you heard the shuffle of footsteps from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat.

the door swung open, and seungcheol stood there, looking absolutely stunned to see you standing there. his eyes widened in confusion, and for a brief second, you both just stared at each other in silence.

he seemed to take a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "you… you’re here," he said quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "are you… okay?"

you didn’t know how to respond. you wanted to say so many things, but words felt like too much. you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. the silence stretched, and then he spoke again, his voice breaking the tension.

"come in," he said softly, stepping aside to let you in, but you didn’t move. "did i… did i do something wrong? if i upset you, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. i really didn’t." his voice was strained, as if he was holding back something. "i know we agreed on the whole fake dating thing for just 1 night, and maybe i crossed a line. but i didn’t mean to. i didn’t mean to make things complicated. I.. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”

he sounded so genuinely sorry, and that was the moment it hit you—seungcheol was just as lost as you were.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to step over the threshold. you walked inside, every part of you feeling as though you were making a decision you couldn’t take back. the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do or say next.

he gestured toward the couch, but neither of you sat. there was a tension hanging between you two, something unsaid but felt in the air. you stayed there, frozen, trying to process your thoughts while he watched you, waiting for something.

he cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. "come sit, please," he said. "talk to me, please. is it something i did? i… i can't fix it if i dont know what i did wrong."

you shook your head slowly, still unable to find your words. you felt like a mess, and you could tell by his expression that he felt the same. the weight of everything that had happened—the kiss, the awkward distance between you two after—was hanging over you both.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "it’s not your fault."

"what do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, a mix of hope and worry in his gaze. "what’s not my fault?"

"i kissed you," you muttered, the words coming out rushed, almost in a panic. "it was me. i shouldn’t have done it. and i’m sorry."

he seemed taken aback, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "but… why? why did you kiss me?”

you bit your lip, looking down at the floor, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "i don’t know why," you admitted, the confession escaping before you could stop it. "i wasn't thinking…i just… i was jealous. i saw hanna with you, and i couldn’t stand it. i… i kissed you because of that, but now, i’m not sure if it was jealousy or because i like you."

seungcheol’s face softened, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of it. "you were jealous?" his voice was barely audible, as if the question itself was too much to bear. his eyes were glossy, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice breaking as he spoke. "you… you like me?"

you took in a deep breath, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "i think so, i don’t know..I'm not sure but i don’t want to lose you over a stupid kiss."

seungcheol exhaled shakily as his heart falters to the pit of his stomach. he felt a mixture of anger, bitterness and heartbreak flare in his chest, his fingers threading through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself. "a stupid kiss," he repeated, “you dont know if you like me?” and there was a bitterness to his voice that made your chest tighten. he looked at you, his eyes shining with something raw, something that made your heart splinter.

"it's not just a stupid kiss to me," he whispered, and your breath caught. "do you know how long i’ve been in love with you? do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to hold back these feelings because i was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same?"

your eyes widened, your knees nearly giving out at his words. "you… you're in love with me?" you whispered, barely able to believe it.

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking in the air between you. "yeah," he said, his voice breaking on the word. "i’m in love with you. it’s been hell, watching you, waiting for the right moment, praying that maybe, one day, you'd feel the same. and then you kissed me, and god, for a second, i thought it was real. i thought maybe you felt it too."

your hands shook as you tried to process his confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless. "cheol…" you started, but he held up a hand, his gaze turning away from you.

"don't," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face. "if you're not sure, if you don't know what you want, please… don't say anything. because this? this hurts too much."

your chest ached, your heart breaking at the sight of him, of the way he was barely holding himself together. "i’m sorry," you choked out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. "i didn’t know. i never realized—"

"that’s the thing," he interrupted, his voice strained. "i've always been here, and you never realized." he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his own tears. "i can’t… i can’t keep doing this if you don't feel the same,”

seungcheol softens as he took in a deep breath, “I can accept, no–I can understand if you don’t love me back,” he says, his voice breaking, “but i need you to at least be sure you like me. if you can’t even be sure you like me, then i don’t think i can do this.” his hands curl into fists on his knees, the weight of his words pressing into the air between you.

the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you. “cheol,” you begin to confess, voice trembling, “i was in love with you four years ago. back then, before everything. before my ex.” your confession hangs heavy, and you can see the shock and pain in his eyes.

“four years ago?” he chokes out. he’s crying too, his tears slipping silently down his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”

you wipe at your face, trying to catch your breath. “because i thought it was over. i thought my feelings had become platonic, that they’d evolved into this safe, distant affection. but seeing you... seeing hanna flirt with you... it hurt. it hurt because i realized i never really let you go. i still love you, cheol. and it’s not just this soft, easy love. it’s the kind that makes me want you even when it hurts.”

his sob catches in his throat, and he reaches for you, his hands trembling. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confesses, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “i tried to hide it. i tried to hold it back, but i couldn’t. you’ve always been the one, even when i knew i shouldn’t feel that way.”

the two of you sit there, crying together, the years of longing, misunderstandings, and suppressed emotions finally crashing down. he cups your face, thumb brushing away your tears. “so now what?” you ask, voice small and broken.

seungcheol pulls back slightly, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes, but there's something vulnerable there too. he smiles as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "now... now i ask you out on a date," he says, his voice softer, but his tone filled with so much emotion. “but—” he pauses, his smile fading slowly as his gaze turns serious now, “i’ll give you…five dates.”

“what? what do you mean?” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

seungcheol's smile returns as he takes in your pouty face before clearing his throat, “i'll let you decide if you still want me after that. no pressure. in case you change your mind.” his hand goes to reach for a stray hair near your cheek and tucks it behind your ear as he gives you a soft smile, still holding a certain sadness and uncertainty to it.

you smile softly, shaking your head. “i don’t need five dates to know my answer, cheol. i'm not changing my mind.” bold adrenaline suddenly pumps through your blood, and you hastily pull seungcheol closer to you in a quick motion, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and then you place a quick kiss on his lips. it's nothing romantic by any means, neither was it movie-scene-worthy. it's nothing like that, but it is more than enough to soothe your soaring heart, and it's definitely more than enough to send your message across to seungcheol.

seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise as you pull away. "you’re…sure.” this time, it wasn't a question.

"i'm sure," you repeat anyway for him, stepping into his arms as your heart flutters at the feeling of him finally pulling you in, his embrace as warm as you'd imagined.

his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and desperation that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like everything you've both been holding back for so long is coming unraveled, like this embrace is the start of something fragile but real. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath, heavy and uneven, as he holds on like he's afraid to let go.

"i've waited so long to hear you say that," he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. His words are shaky, the tremble betraying the vulnerability he’s still trying to hide. "i’ve wanted this for so long, but i never imagined it would feel this terrifying."

your hand finds his back, holding him just as tightly. "it’s terrifying for me too," you admit softly, your voice trembling. "but... i’m tired of being afraid.”

he pulls back slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes search your face. “let’s give this a real chance, even if it scares us. even if it’s hard." he whispers, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow that had clouded his expression.

you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i want to," you say, feeling a fragile hope bloom in your chest. "i want us."

a soft, relieved laugh escapes his lips, and he pulls you into a real kiss this time—gentle, slow, and full of everything unspoken. It’s not perfect, but it feels like a promise, like a beginning you both desperately needed. you lose yourself in the moment, your heart pounding as the weight of everything finally starts to lift.

when you both pull away, breathless but smiling, seungcheol rests his forehead against yours. "so, about those five dates, even though you say you dont need them," he teases, his voice a little lighter now, a spark of his usual playful demeanor coming back. "should we count this one, or start fresh?"

you laugh, the sound bringing color back into the space between you. "maybe we should count this one," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full. "but only if it means you have to try extra hard to make the next four unforgettable."

his smile widens, the warmth in his eyes chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. "deal," he says, his hands still resting on your waist. "i’ll make every single one worth remembering, just you wait."

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nanivinsmoke · 3 months ago

Text

❥ keep on comin’ back

babydaddy!toji x fem!reader

the reason he keeps on comin back.

tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.

note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.

“What are you doing here? It’s not my week—hi megs, mimi!” you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.

Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. “What are you doing here? Don’t think you’re getting any, last time was a mistake.”

“Last time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didn’t hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.” You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.

“well that’s never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?” you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one another—unconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.

“megumi’s supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbing’s backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommy’s house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.” you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.

and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.

“tried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasn’t any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?” he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.

“bags are in the truck,” he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.

being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldn’t understand why mommy and daddy aren’t together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.

Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonight’s meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.

Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. “mommy? do you love dad?”

his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. “yes, but not as much as i love you,” he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumi’s mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.

“so, then why aren’t you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dad’s room at the other house—“

you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? there’s no way—maybe he’s got someone else in mind…right?

“mm…i don’t know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and I’ll call yuuji’s dad.” you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.

there’s no way, right?

—

the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blur—still caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.

even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.

and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.

yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when toji’s deep voice echoed through your ears.

“knew I would find you here. what are ya watching?”

“uhh supernatural….toji can i ask you a question?”

“ya just did,” he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. “you know what i meant.” he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.

“the ring you have, is that for me?” there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.

“meg’s told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you think—“ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.

“gotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.” he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lap—your plush thighs melting against his waist.

“but, yeah. ‘m gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,” his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldn’t take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.

toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tip—to the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.

he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.

you released him with a ‘pop’ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, “shhh don’t wanna wake them up. now do we?” the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.

he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. “need you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.”

you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming back…..well, one of the reasons.

his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didn’t take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his base—sticking to your skin while you moved.

“fuck you’re so tight. missed this pussy,” his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.

everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater down—pushing it down a little—before putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.

the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.

he didn’t know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long it’s been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.

you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.

toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.

“look at the mess yer makin—shit! cum for me mamas”

oh the mess you made.

specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didn’t stop there.

toji’s grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt silly—splitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.

unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.

this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.

he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. “guess we gotta order a new crib. hm?”

#dad toji #dilf toji x y/n #dilf toji x reader #baby daddy toji #dilf toji #toji is a dilf #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x you #toji x reader #jjk toji smut #dilf toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut

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secretl1fe0fm3 · 1 month ago

Text

maroon ~ billie eilish x fem!reader

“the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, and how the blood rushed into my cheeks so scarlet, it was maroon.”

warnings: smut, eating out, fingering, strap (r!receiving), dirty talk, dom!billie, sub!reader, alcohol consumption (both reader and billie are of age)

18+ minors dni!!!

2k words

part two

Your head leans on the car window as you watch the lights from the city shimmer on the wet pavement, leaving a glow illuminating the streets. You sigh lightly as your phone lit up in your lap, glancing down you noticed your friend had texted you, asking if you were on your way yet. Typing away a quick response to confirm her question, you set your phone back down.

You were currently in the back of a cab, on the way to an event at a high end bar your friend had invited you to, as her plus one. She didn't really give you many details, other than the fact that it was formal. Per her request, you chose to wear a short tight white satin slip dress, adorned with lace trimming. You paired it with your favorite red heels, and gold accessories. It definitely wasn't an outfit in your comfort zone, but your friend had mentioned some celebrities had been invited. You wanted to look your best, not knowing who you could possibly run into.

As your car pulls up, nerves suddenly flood your head, unsure if this was truly a good idea or not. There were some photographers standing in front of the building, looking like they were waiting for someone specific to show. Glancing away from them, you look up and see your friend standing next to the doors, waving at you. A smile fell over your lips, relieved to see her waiting for your arrival. You step out of the car, thanking your driver briefly before walking over to her.

She squeals excitedly as she pulls you into a tight hug, "Its so good to see you!" You grin as you hugged her back, realizing how long it had been since you've seen her last.

"Thank you so much for inviting me, Ive never been to one of these private events before." You laugh out nervously, playing with the rings on your fingers. She smiles at you, laughing with you, noting your nerves.

"Of course! You're going to have so much fun, I promise you. Cmon, let's go inside." She grabs your hand, leading you inside. As soon as she opened the door, the deafening sound of music and loud conversations filled your ears. You followed closely behind her as she pulled you through the crowd, heading straight for the bar. She ordered the both of you a glass of red wine. As you waited with her, you glance around, noticing some familiar faces that you've seen before.

"Here you go!" Your friend hands you your glass, breaking you out of your daze. You take the glass from her, taking a sip quickly, hoping to gain some liquid courage soon. You felt out of place, not knowing what to do as you glance around, watching everyone converse.

She nudges you, and you focus your eyes back on hers. "Lets go sit somewhere and catch up, yeah?" Before you can even respond, she pulls you over to a dark lit booth in the corner of the room. You both sit down and continue to sip on your wine, sharing stories of childhood memories, and years of friendship.

An hour passes, and you and your friend are both flushed pink, now on your third glass of wine together. You continue to laugh obnoxiously with her, until you realize your glass is almost empty. Giggling, you excuse yourself, and grab your glass of wine, heading in the direction of the bar.

You look back at your friend and smile to yourself, not paying attention to where you're walking, immediately bumping into someone. Your feet falter as your wine glass gets pushed towards your chest, ultimately staining the upper half of your white dress a deep burgundy color. "Fuck-" You curse loudly, not realizing who you even ran into in the commotion. Glancing up, your green eyes meet ocean blue, the words dying on your tongue.

"Oh shit, Im sorry! I didn't even see you." The woman rushes out as you gape at her. You couldn't even begin to be convinced that Billie Eilish was standing in front of you, her eyes full of concern. "Oh my god, your dress, Im so sorry." Billie says apologetically as she grabs onto your arm gently.

Your cheeks flush a deep scarlet color, similar to the unfortunate color now adorning your white dress. You lose the ability to speak at first, unsure if your tipsy state is making you hallucinate. Her eyes stare into yours until you finally find the words.

"Its okay, I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going." You breathe out, reassuring her. Your heart rate seemed to be going a mile a minute. Looking down at your dress, you sigh softly to yourself, realizing the stain is worse than you thought. Billie's grip falls from your arm, noticing your disappointed expression. She continues to look at you, biting her lip, until a smile falls on her face.

"Here," She quickly shrugs off her suit jacket, holding it out to you. "Take this, please."

You hesitantly take the jacket out of her hands, staring at her with furrowed brows. "Are you sure? It's not that bad, really, I'll probably be leaving soon anyways."

Billie shakes her head, dismissing your comment. "It's the least I can do. Plus, I feel awful for ruining your pretty dress." She cracks a smile, her eyes glancing up and down your body quickly before returning to yours.

"Thank you." You smile back at her, your cheeks heating up again. You put her jacket on, making sure to cover the stain. Her grin gets impossibly bigger at the sight of you in her jacket.

"I'm Billie, by the way." She added quickly, and you let out a small laugh, exchanging your name with her as well. Billie grinned at you, her eyes studying you.

You didn't know why, but you felt nervous under her gaze. "Thank you again, I should really get going though." You rushed out, glancing back at your friend, then back at Billie. She takes note of your nervousness and smirks.

"Let me at least get you a new glass, yeah?" She offers, motioning towards your now empty glass. Your cheeks flush an even deeper color.

Nodding, you follow her as she makes her way towards the bar, ordering you a new glass of wine. You stand beside her, silently admiring her features. She’s wearing a white button down with a black tie, and baggy black jeans.

Before you know it, a new glass of wine is shoved into your hands. “Wanna go sit and chat for a bit?” She asked, grabbing herself a glass as well, looking you up and down.

You glance back at your friend, noticing she wasn’t in the booth anymore, not sure of where she went. Looking back at Billie, you nod. “Yeah sure, I’d love that.” Billie grins at your response and grabs onto your hand gently, pulling you towards a dimly lit corner.

“You look great in my jacket, by the way.” She added, as you both sat down at a small table. You sip on your wine, trying to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You joke, licking the wine off your lips, setting your glass down. Billie lets out a laugh, her eyes twinkling in the soft ambient lighting.

“And would that be a bad thing?” Billie questions, sitting back in her chair. Her legs spreading slightly, eyes flicking up to yours then down to your lips.

The familiar shade of crimson spreads across your face. You couldn’t tell if it was your lowered inhibitions from the wine, but the way she was holding your gaze made a heat start to form in your lower stomach. Biting your lip, you down the rest of your wine. As you finish, you noticed shes only taken a few sips of hers. Her eyes are still trained on you, watching you intently.

You both continue to stare at each other, your eyes speaking what you are too afraid to say. She takes notice and smirks. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? You can come back to mine?” She reaches out for your hand, rubbing small circles on it with her thumb. You nod quickly, biting your lip even harder.

She smiles at your swift agreement, standing up with you. Billie wraps her arm around your back, her hand landing on your waist, guiding you out of the bar. You both exit through the back door, and get into her car quickly, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.

Sitting in her passenger seat, you shoot your friend a quick text, thanking her for inviting you. Deciding to make an excuse, you add on that you decided to uber home because you didn’t feel well. Setting your phone down, you glance over at Billie. She smiles at you and pulls out of the dimly lit parking lot, resting her hand on your thigh.

The drive seemed much longer than it actually was. The warmth between your legs spread as she gripped onto your thigh, her rings shining under the street lamps. You needed her now, and you couldn’t deny it any longer.

She pulls up to her house, putting her car in park. You both stepped out and walked up to her front door. You gripped onto her arm as she turned the key to unlock it, pushing open the door. She stepped in, opening the door for you.

Before you could process her locking the door, she pushed you gently up against the wall, her breath slightly ragged.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Billie whispers, her eyes falling onto your lips, closing the gap between your bodies. Her lips crash into yours, kissing you with pure desperation and fever. Your lips mold with hers, hands falling onto her shoulders, pulling her closer.

You can feel her knee move in between your legs, her hands roaming your body. You throw your head back and whine at the sudden sensation, grinding down on her leg softly.

“Fuck, thats it baby, use me to get off, yeah?” She grunts out, her lips moving to your exposed neck, sucking and biting gently.

Letting out an even louder whine than before, you continue to move your hips against her leg. “Billie, please..” You whimper out as her mouth attacks your neck.

She pulls away momentarily, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you towards her room. You stumble after her, grinning and biting your lip. Excited to finally be getting what you secretly wanted the whole night.

You both make your way into her room, shutting the door behind yourselves. Billie locks it, walking back over to you. “This is okay with you, right?” She breathes out, her lips red and wet, walking you closer to her bed. The back of your knees hit the bed and you sit down, staring up at her with big eyes.

You grab onto her tie, pulling her body onto yours. “Please..” You plead softly, nodding, as she crawls on top of you. That was the green light she had been waiting for.

Smirking, she trailed kisses down your chest. Her hands roamed under your dress, pushing it up to expose your red lace thong. She grinned as she noticed the wet spot on your underwear.

“That affected by me, huh? You’re so wet for me baby. Such a good girl.” She praises you, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss right below your belly button. Her hands grazing against your wet heat.

You buck your hips up at the minimal contact, throwing your head back against her bed. She pushes your hips back down against the bed, slowly pulling your underwear down and off. Billie tosses them to the side and climbs off of you briefly, undressing everything but her button up and tie. She helps you out of her jacket and your dress, admiring your naked body. Her pupils blown wide.

You sit up slightly, resting back on your elbows, watching her. She moves to her dresser, opening the drawer. You watch her as she pulls out a purple strap, your legs instinctively clenching together.

Billie makes her way back over to the bed, “Want me to fuck you pretty girl? Hm?”

You nod absentmindedly, the heat in your stomach growing even more. Billie grabs onto your hips, pulling you closer to her. She leans down and attaches her lips onto your clit, sucking. You let out a loud moan, gripping onto her sheets.

She continues to suck and lap at your wet heat, burying her face into your cunt. She brought up a finger, slowly circling the tight muscle.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Billie mumbles against you, her finger sliding in next to her tongue. You gasp out, your back arching off the bed.

She adds another finger as she feels you relax around her first one, pumping in and out at a steady pace. Her eyes watching you as you writhe in pleasure.

“Look at me.” She curls her fingers perfectly, hitting your sweet spot. Your eyes flutter shut before opening again, looking down at her.

“Good girl.” Billie praises as your eyes meet hers. She pulls her fingers out slowly, spreading your wetness onto her strap. Climbing on top of you, she positions herself at your entrance.

You bite your lip, moaning softly, “Please fuck me Billie, I need you so bad.” You grab onto her tie again, wrapping it around your hand, pulling her impossibly close.

She smirks, “Whatever you want, pretty girl.” She thrusts forward, her strap entering you in one quick motion. You let out an obscenely loud whine, yanking on her tie.

She fucks into you fast, watching your face as you throw your head back in pleasure again. “Taking me so fucking well baby.” She whispers out, as her free hand finds your clit, rubbing small, fast circles.

You moan loudly, feeling her strap hit all the right places. Her thrusts never falter, continuously fucking into you. Your eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed with pure lust and pleasure.

“Fuck, feels so g-good..” You stutter out, unable to form a coherent sentence. She grins down at you, her thrusts getting even quicker.

“Open your mouth.” Billie demanded, and you instinctively opened your mouth. She smirked at your obedience, spitting directly onto your tongue. Her hand left your clit, moving her fingers towards your mouth, pushing her pointer finger inside against your tongue.

“Next time, you’re gonna use this pretty mouth to eat me out, yeah?” She continues to thrust in and out of your cunt at a rapid pace. Her breathing was heavy, quiet grunts falling off her lips. You nodded, sucking on her finger gently, swallowing around it. You felt a heat building up inside you, your own climax quickly approaching.

Her hips faltered slightly, the strap rubbing up against her own clit with each thrust. Gripping onto her tie still, you let out a loud moan, “Fuck, Im gonna come.” You mumble out around her finger.

“Thats it, come for me, come all over my dick baby.” She begs breathlessly. You let out a final high pitched whine as your back arches off the bed. You clench down around her, gasping out as you ride out your orgasm.

Billie watches you come undone underneath her, her own orgasm washing over her quickly. She grunts out as she grips onto your hips, slowing down her thrusts.

You both pant together as you lay there, her strap still inside of you. She falls on top of your body gently, looking into your eyes. Billie smiles down at you, a blissed out expression on her face. A blush creeps onto your cheeks again, the dark maroon color returning for the final time that evening.

my masterlist

requests are open! <3

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #huge shout out to maroon by taylor swift for inspiring this #billie x reader #dom billie #wlw #lets go lesbians!!!

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tragedy-machine · 1 month ago

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“Edwin, do you ever think about… what it’d be like if we went to school together?”

“I cannot say that I do, Charles.”

“I do, sometimes. About how life would be like if we were both alive and attending St. Hilarion right now.”

“I assume your vision does not include any of our classmates being killers?”

“Nah, ‘course not. Times are different now, aren’t they? So… what do you think?”

“Well, you would be a star of the cricket team, no doubt. And you can certainly bounce a ball without letting it fall for a very long period of time, so maybe a football star, as well.”

“I don’t know about being a star, but– cheers.”

“Of course. Indeed, given your natural charisma, one might readily surmise that people would be most inclined to gather about you. If they possessed any sense whatsoever, your classmates should eagerly seek to make your acquaintance. You would graciously give everyone the time of day, much as you do with our clients, and they would be endlessly charmed by you. ”

“Now you’re really overdoing it, mate. What about you?”

“Me? Oh. I would… greatly delight in the study of languages. I have heard it said that schools nowadays offer a wider array of them within their curriculum. Literature, too, holds a special allure for me; indeed, I might even volunteer my services in the school library, simply for the opportunity to spend more time there or attend a study club. Science has also been a source of fascination for me—chemistry in particular, I could well imagine devoting a lot of time to it.”

“Mhmm, go on.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“What of your friends?”

“I have not considered– perhaps other members of the literature club? Our recent adventure in the States have shown me that although people are decidedly still not my forte, it is possible for me to make acquaintances with them if they share my interests. If they are not dreadfully insufferable, that is to say.”

“And…?”

“And?”

“C’mon, how do we meet?”

“Oh. Realistically, I do not think our paths would cross. You would have more than enough friends interested in sports and music and other activities you enjoy, and I would never set foot near a gymnasium or a music room. We are an unlikely pair, after all.”

“...what? You don’t think we’d be friends if we were at school together?”

“I merely mean to say— as I have mentioned— with a sufficient company of good and worthy friends around you, you would have little cause to seek me out at school, particularly as we would be spending our time entirely differently.”

“Edwin, that’s horrible. A load of tosh, if I’ve ever heard one. I refuse to believe that. We could meet in class, or– maybe I’d have trouble with English, it’s never been my favorite, could never get my letters correct, could I? And since you’re so good at it, you’d offer to tutor me.”

“You believe I would offer?”

“‘Course, you’re proper kind like that, aren’t you? Or I’d ask you and you wouldn’t be able to say no to me.”

“So certain I would not be, even right from the beginning?”

“Isn’t that how our first meeting went?”

“...touché. You can be quite persistent. However, that does not mean you would have to befriend the boy who tutors you.”

“I liked you right when I met you, didn’t I? It’d be the same.”

“You are awfully confident regarding the matter.”

“Yeah, mate. Think about it, we may be an unlikely duo, but against all odds, we met. We stayed together. And will stay together. We’d find each other in every universe, just like we had in this one.”

“...who is the one ‘overdoing it’ now?”

“Come off it, mate! But just think about it, we’d go to uni together, you’d study– English or, or Law, you’d make a great lawyer, you know, and I– I don’t know, I’d study something too, and we’d live together.”

“Would we start a detective agency together as well?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Alive Boy Detectives does not have the same ring to it. Neither does Alive Men Detectives.”

“We’d figure something out.”

#charles “do you ever think about...” rowland #dead boy detectives #my posts #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #dbda #dead boy detective agency #painland

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dumpywrites · 10 months ago

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Facade - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: Your friend arranged you on a date with a BTS member. The catch is, you have to pretend like you’re not a fan.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, strangers (?) to lovers, idol Jungkook, fan/army reader

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

Word count: 4k

a/n: I obviously don't know how real idol life works, let's just pretend this is how it looks like ok lol

“You did not just set me on a date with Jeon Jungkook.”

Folding your arms, you stood with your eyebrows knitted together, looking straight at your friend who in contrast had a big grin plastered on his lips. You bit into your sandwich, looking left and right, all skeptical about people overhearing your conversation. The guy in front of you then repeated his sentence again just to humor you.

Undoubtedly, you did not hear your friend wrong. Man really just set you up with the one and only Jungkook from BTS. Being a set stylist in Big Hit and all, it came as no surprise that he knew the boys, but you did not know that he was that close to the point that he could introduce them to you personally. In fact, you were never aware of how close your friend was with them until now.

While it was true that you had told your friend, although mostly jokingly, about how you wanted him to introduce him to someone, you did not mean this. You did not mean introducing to the guy whose songs you literally had in your Spotify wrapped.

“Felix, you can’t be serious, how??? I don't think I have anything to wear???“

“Here’s the catch.” The guy said sternly, putting down his chilled drink. “You have to pretend like you don’t know him.”

You looked at your friend as if he just turned into a fish. The sentence he blurted out just sounded ridiculous.

“Okay, okay, I’m aware of how unbelievable that sounds. Obviously, everyone knows who he is. All I’m asking is for you to at least pretend to not be a creepy fan.”

“I’m not a creepy fan.” You looked at your friend, pretending to feel insulted.

“You took a picture of his Calvin Klein poster at the mall last week.” He argued.

“That doesn’t count, I was asking about the location.”

“You mentioned something about rock-hard abs…”

“Okay, fair.” You rolled your eyes. “But I’m not one of those sasaeng if that’s what you mean.”

“Duh, I wouldn’t have suggested this if you are.” He rolled his eyes back at you. “The other's been teasing him about relationship stuff and your face popped up in my head." He sneered. "When I showed him your picture, he seemed to be interested.”

Your eyes widened. “Which picture of me did you show to him?!“

“Doesn’t matter.” He dismissed you. “But you’re somewhat of a fan, so you must know that he’s mentioned that he doesn’t date fans.”

“I’m aware.” You sighed.

“I think that’s bullshit to be honest, he’s just saying that for safety purposes. So army wouldn’t fight over him and stuff?” He chuckled. “But just so he won’t get put off on the first meeting…”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“You sound discouraged.”

“No, I’m beyond ecstatic, it’s just that…” You stopped to sip your drink. “I don’t know, the idea of lying to his face just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“You can tell him later if the date goes well! It’s just so he won’t run away on the first meeting…”

You frowned, contemplating for a good moment. “Alright fine, but you have to help me with the outfit.”

“I got you covered, girl.”

That was how you ended up waiting in a private room, at restaurant way too fancy for you, sitting down awkwardly at a table that has a paper written “Reserved for Mr. Jeon” on it. Out of nervousness, you kept fixing the non-existent crease on your blouse, the one Felix helped you choose just the day before.

Felix was the one who drove you there, since he knew the place and both of you basically talked with him as a bridge in between. Your friend did mention the possibility of your date being late, due to the fact that he could not just enter the place from the front door like normal costumer would.

Just around six minutes of fidgeting your fingers, you heard a light click from the door handle and you quickly straightened yourself up. Honestly, you wished he came even later, cause you were nervous as heck. Thank heavens for the good air conditioner or you'd be wetting your outfit with sweat.

And so there he was, walking in full slow motion before your eyes. He was walking in casually, so effortlessly. Running his fingers through his black, slightly permed locks, he closed the door behind him and you swore his black blazer was swaying in an animated way. There was a shine in both his eyes and lips. You were definitely wearing a pink tinted glasses and you were fully aware of it.

“Hi, you must be Y/N.” He flashed a bright smile and took a seat. “Sorry I’m late, had to make sure no one saw me and all…”

“Don’t sweat it.” You said, trying not to sound breathless.

“You’re very pretty by the way.” He grinned. “Like, actually better than the picture Felix showed me.”

“Thanks…” It was impressive how you manage to not stutter while your heart was doing a backflip. “You look great too… I mean I’m sure you get it all the time.”

“Don’t even.” He laughed. “I look great cause we have a team of professional makeup artists on stage. Today though, I’m just Jeon Jeongguk in the flesh.”

You wanted so badly to hit him because there was no way this man really just said that his no makeup face was anything but gorgeous.

“Anyways!” The guy exclaimed enthusiastically. “Let’s order? I’m starving!”

“What do you recommend here? I’ve never been here before…”

“Oh, I’ve never been here either. I just asked Jimin-hyung to recommend me a good place for a date…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I figured it would make a good first impression.”

“You could just ask me out for a tteokbokki and I would’ve said yes.”

Wait, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Jungkook’s laughter filled the room suddenly, which taken you by surprise. “That sounds awesome, we should totally get some after this!”

You couldn’t help but to smile as well.

“Felix told me you’re a copywriter?”

“Ah yeah, I am. I mostly work for social media stuff.” You explained as you flipped through the menu. “I kinda want to indulge in writing music but I don’t know where to start…”

“You should definitely try it!” He said in excitement. “I didn’t get to actually write my last album since the company decided to go full English, but I’d like to, maybe for my future releases.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“I can introduce you to my writers and producers if you want?” He looked at the ceiling for a second, pondering. “Have you listened to my song “Seven”?”

As a matter of fact, you had memorized the song lyric by lyric, but you couldn’t just tell him that.

“O-Of course.” You cursed secretly for stuttering. “It’s everywhere, don’t act like that song didn’t top the charts.”

“Right…” He said, grinning while looking away from your eyes. “I mean, I could introduce you to the writers if you want.”

“There’s no need, I’m sure I can learn a thing or two from you.” You looked at him, testing the waters.

“Or that! I prefer that, honestly.” He laughed.

Dinner went extremely well. You were surprised at how at ease you were with him. He was fun and easy to talk to. He was talking about every dish in a very passionate way, which you found endearing. You share the same movie taste as him, which did not really come as a surprise to you, but it absolutely did to him. His eyes were practically glowing talking about the upcoming Deadpool movie.

The guilt of pretending still lingered in you and you couldn’t just simply ignore it. No matter how comfortable he made you feel, you kept feeling on edge, scared of the possibility of spilling something you’d rather him not to hear.

“So, are you still up for the tteokbokki?” He asked after giving his card to pay. “I mean, we can’t just eat them on the street like normal people cause you know…” He sighed, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot you can’t just…”

“I’m sorry, it sucks.” He smiled sadly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job but… I guess it’s just a small price to pay.”

There was a very clear hint of disappointment in his voice, and you felt awful. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, I can just tell my driver to drop by so we can get some and I don’t know, eat in my car? Unless you wanna eat in my place which sounds bad, I don’t think you’ll be comfortable knowing we just met—“

“Jungkook, it’s alright.” You assured him. “We can just get them next time.”

“There’s a next time then?” He said with an eager smile.

You blushed. “Of course. I had fun…”

“Okay… phew!” He exhaled comically and you laughed. “You know, I’m glad I came today.”

“Me too.” You smiled.

“Can I have your number?” He said with puffed cheeks as he bit the inner side of his mouth. “It’s not exactly convenient to talk via Felix.” He chuckled.

After exchanging phone number he offered to take you home with him having a driver as the argument. You refused, but mostly because you didn’t know if you could handle being in a close distance and such small space with him yet. Your heart could barely take his boyish grins and cringey jokes. You certainly needed more getting used to.

Your friend was so gonna get an earful about this.

Maybe you’d treat him food too as a thanks.

“So?”

“I’m in trouble, you don’t get it.”

Your friend laughed out loud while you sighed and palmed your face.

“Aren’t you happy that it went well?” He snickered, eyeing the unopened notifications from Jungkook popping up in your phone. “He even texts you daily, don’t you know how busy he is?”

“He still doesn’t know that I basically have his album at home.” You groaned, slumping into the table. “Albums! And his posters… his light stick…” You ruffled your hair in frustration.

“Relax, he clearly likes you! Look at those puppy eyes emojis he sent you.”

“How am I suppose to tell him now?!” You looked at your friend in disbelief.

“I’m sure he’ll understand, you just gotta find the right timing.”

“That’s easy for you to say cause you’re not the one dealing with it.”

“Shut up, look…” Felix took your phone and shoved it in front of your face.

“Are you free this Saturday? Let’s watch a movie!”

“Oh my god???” You snatched your phone instantly, eyes fully open.

And so here you were again, somewhat dolling yourself up for a mere cinema date. You did not step out before video calling your friend and sending the view casual outfit option you had.

This time Jungkook insisted on sending you a driver to pick you up, mentioning how it was safer and more convenient for you that way. You felt a bit weirded out by the treatment but you guessed it was only right given his status. He even said that he wanted to pick you up himself if he could.

The first thing you noticed after stepping into the cinema was how empty it was. Sure it was quite late at night, around eleven, but it was not that late to the point where nobody would be there. You had been to the cinema at the same hour before and you were sure it wasn’t this empty. Although you were feeling suspicious, you showed the staff your booking code anyway and she led you to the auditorium.

How terrified you were to found the auditorium to be empty also, only the huge screen playing the commercials before the movie. You began to look around, terrified. Was this some sort of prank? You were not sure. Out of the blue a finger tapped your back and you yelped in horror.

“I’m sorry! Did I scare you? I was in the restroom.” It was Jungkook.

You stood up for a few seconds, still processing the whole situation. Your eyes were glassy due to the fear and your heart was beating rapidly. Jungkook just stood there, wearing an oversized grey hoodie and a baggy jeans, looking handsome as usual, just staring at you with two cups of soda in his hands. He had a beanie over his head, making his face look rounder and pinch-able.

“Hey… are you okay?”

You cleared your throat, scratching your eyes. “I was scared I thought I got pranked or something.” You chuckled, vision still quite blurry.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you that I rented the whole place… I just don’t want people to see me and make a fuss about it…”

“It’s okay. I’m here now, let’s just sit down?”

Jungkook followed you as you picked a random seat in the middle of the room.

He was being awfully quiet as the movie started playing. You noticed how suddenly tensed he was and you saw his hands trembled for a quick second before he shoved it down his pants pockets.

“Uh, Y/N?” He called.

You were startled. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I can’t take you on a normal date.”

Your heart melted at the statement. While it was true that you were a fan, but seeing him being a considerate and gentle guy in real life completely swept you away.

You smiled, looking at his direction. “I mean, as long as we’re spending time together I don’t care where or how.”

He flashed you a smile, one that could turn you into a puddle instantly. Your eyes darted to a staff that suddenly came to your seats, with two cups of what seemed to be snacks. Your eyes beamed with excitement at the realization of what was served to you. You gasped, covering your lips. You barely mouthed a “thank you” to the staff and they bowed before walking out.

“I didn’t know they serve tteokbokki here.”

“They don’t… I just told my driver to get us some.” He said timidly. “I hope that’s okay?”

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been just to eat a tteokbokki.”

Jungkook breathed out a sigh before smiling brightly. “You know, I don’t even remember the last time I went out on a normal date… I’m sorry if it’s weird to you.”

“I haven’t been in one in a while either, it’s okay.” You smiled back, poking the tteokbokki and took a bite.

He started stuffing some in his mouth as well. “No, it’s different… I think I will never get the chance to actually date normally, you know? Not in the near future at least. I just wish people respect my privacy more, that’s not much to ask, right?”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

“Well, at the end of the day, I love what I do and I don’t regret anything.”

He shrugged and continued to stuff more food in his mouth, making you giggle at the sight. You had seen him eat multiple times on his weverse live but seeing him actually eat with such enthusiast right in front of you just felt different. God was he cute.

“I’m glad you’re not like those people.” He looked at you, smiling with his mouth full.

You froze. Am I though? You thought to yourself. Immediately the eye contact was broken and you straightened yourself on the seat to watch the movie, the one with plot you never really got to know at this point. You did not realize how you never really responded to his sentence.

He did not press over it again and you were glad. Instead of opening his mouth to ask for more, he put his hand over yours instead. A bold move, which surprised you, but his touch was oddly calming and in no time you found yourselves intertwining your fingers together.

After the credits rolled, both of you stood up to exit but Jungkook quickly caught your right hand again, refusing to let go of it yet. You found it really adorable so you let him be.

“Let me take you home, yeah?”

“But aren’t you worried? What if someone snoops around seeing the same car drops a random girl and then you later?” You reasoned.

“You’re not some random girl.”

You were both mad and smitten that he chose to focus on that. “That’s not the point.”

“I know… it’s just,” He puffed his cheeks. “I wanna spend time with you more, I don’t really get breaks that often so…”

You almost let out an “aww”. You sighed, fighting the urge to just hug him right there on the spot. “Alright.”

“Yes!” He celebrated, throwing his left fist in the air. “Don't worry, I have a driver trailing from behind in case I get followed. I won't drop you in your specific apartment tower too, if that helps."

“You drove by yourself?”

“Kinda wanna chat just the two of us.”

Okay, you were now holding every fiber of yourself not to just jump and kiss him.

“Is that alright though?” You worried.

“The staffs here already signed NDAs and stuff, so I hope so.” He shrugged.

Nodding, you followed him to the parking basement, where he parked his car. He did not let go of your hand until he reached his car. Not minutes after starting his engine, he already was asking for your hand. His eyebrows wiggling playfully at you, while he whined about how he could comfortably drive with one hand.

You were in no position to complain though, your hand felt too comfortable resting against his. It almost felt like it belonged there but saying that about Jungkook made you feel delusional. Despite actually going on a date with the man himself, it was still surreal for you, the idea of going out with your idol.

“Do you think I’m going too fast?”

“Your driving? I guess it’s alright.” You raised one of your eyebrow, looking at him.

“You know what I mean.” He chuckled. “About this whole thing…”

Before you answered, he spoke again.

“I get way too excited over these things, I don’t have that much experience and not to mention how I don’t really get that much time to do so.” He nervously laughed. “I’m a fucking twenty-six year old guy who gets way too excited over holding hands…” He shook his head. The curse word rolling out from his tongue actually sounded natural, somewhat sexy.

“I think you’re fine the way you are.” You squeezed his hand, patting the top of it with your other one. “Everyone experience life differently, and so what if you get excited over holding hands? You think I don’t?” You chuckled.

“You do?!” He said cheerfully. “We’re such a great match already.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes but your lips were curled into a shy smile.

“I like you, like a lot.” Jungkook suddenly confessed, as if it was nothing.

You almost jumped in your seat, looking to his direction. His eyes were on the road but he was smiling from ear to ear.

This was it right? This was the moment of your dreams. You were literally dreaming about this. The idol who you admired, confessing his feelings to you. But a small part of you thought about how wrong it was. You were putting a facade in front of him. While you did not lie or put up an act just to impress him, he still didn’t know that you were one of his fans. Will he get mad if he finds out? You’d rather not find out.

“Jungkook, it’s…”

“You don’t have to answer right now. We’ll see each other again, right?” This time he squeezed your hand, dragging it near his chest. You felt his heart beating rapidly.

You kept quiet, only nodding silently. Looking at his direction suddenly felt stuffy so you looked at the window instead, the road and traffic lights kept you busy.

It was not long after and he finally stopped at your destination.

“I’ll see you again?” He said, voice sounding a little bit like a beg.

“I… I can’t.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped slightly, he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Why?”

“I’m not who you think I am…” You looked away, backing off so your body hits the car door.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” He leaned towards your direction, making you nervous.

Panicking, you finally spilled the beans. “Jungkook, I’m actually your fan.” You breathed out. “I’m an army…”

You were so ready to get yelled and thrown out. This was gonna be the moment you wished you had never met—

“I know.”

“Wait, what???” You replied, voice almost a little too loud.

“I saw your little Koya charm in your bag when we first met, I was waiting for you to bring it up but you never say anything.”

Shit, guess you forgot to take that off.

“But you said you were glad I’m not like those people…”

“And I don’t mean my fans? I was talking about those crazy stalkers and dispatch.” He looked at you in disbelief, almost as if he felt betrayed.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” You blushed, the sudden realization hit you that Jungkook in fact had known about your secret since day one.

“That was it right? That’s the only thing that I supposedly don’t know about you? You didn’t lie about anything else?”

“N-No, of course not…”

“Then my offer still stands, I’ll let you know when I’m free next.” He grinned. “If you want to?”

“I want to…” You managed to say, in which seconds later the huge built guy launched towards you for a hug.

“Hey!” You whined, but you were aware of how hot your face felt. Your whole body probably had turned red.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked impatiently, eyes big like a puppy asking for food. “I mean… it’s okay if you don’t want to?” He giggled.

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me…" You groaned. "You don’t have to ask!” You pouted with your cheeks burning like crazy.

He showed you his tooth-aching smile, one that turned his eyes into crescents, before he quickly dipped and met your lips. It was a short and soft peck. He did left it lingering for a few seconds before pulling back. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were lowkey expecting more.

“Good night.” He giggled.

“Good night to you too, silly.” You laughed as well, hugging him close and pecked his cheek.

He finally let you go so you could grab your bag. It was kinda awkward after all hugging in the car seat but oh well. You clicked open the car door, slowly stepping out.

“Drive safe.” You said, looking back to him.

He nodded before waving you goodbye.

That night you went to bed with your eyes wide open. How could you even sleep? The whole scenario felt like you just receive something only someone who had won a war in their past life would get. You took your phone, wanting to text the guy who you totally did not have as your wallpaper now.

There were already two bubbles of notification from him, but your eyes almost popped out reading the second one.

“I have arrived safely! No one followed me! Hehe”

“Any chance you want a signed album from Namjoon-hyung? I can give you for a very low price of a single kiss! 💜”

Thank you for reading! 🍷

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff

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reidsmanuscript · 28 days ago

Text

Meet the Minds

Summary: 4 years after that one time in a bar, on how your character Criminal Minds was born, and maybe how something else was also borned. Pairing: mgg x actress!reader Genre: friends to lovers?, fluff, mutual pinning TW: Public Scrutiny/Fame, reader has severally parents issues, plus they are passive aggressive but it's short i swear, brief mention of cheating, mgg takes a minute to appear i know im sorry, long introduction wc: 3.7k! A/N: hopefully someone will understand what I'm aiming for with both of my dear !readers, this is with the solely purpose to treat myself i fear Masterlist!

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Since that one time in a bar it has been 4 years. Your show City Lights has gotten big. And when you say big, it was BIG, and so did you.

You were wrapping up the third season of the show, with a renewed contract for the next season in hand and a few promising movie proposals. In the past four years, you and your friends have become famous. Not A-list famous, but enough that if any of you went out, someone would recognize you, or a few paparazzi might follow your every move.

The four of you had lived in the same apartment in New York ever since filming started on location. HBO wanted your friendship to feel authentic for the cameras, and boy, were you grateful for that… because they had become your true best friends—not just on TV, but in real life.

It was Ashley, Jack and Nathan. Something that always happens when you start a show and it gets views it’s that the whole crew becomes a big family. In the middle of the second season, you finally mustered the courage to ask the showrunner, Jeff Davis, if you could join the writers' table to pitch some ideas for your character. He agreed, and since then, some of the best storylines on the show had come from your contributions.

The thing was, your name brought in big numbers, and it had caught the attention of producers and showrunners alike. Criminal Minds had premiered a year ago, gained some traction, but they wanted to take it to the next level. So Jeff, the same creator of your show, called you and your agent to see if you could join the cast.

There were two problems. First, your schedule was already packed. Moving to L.A. for the shoot wasn’t an option—City Lights had you locked in for the fourth season, and there was a possibility you'd land the lead in a promising film. On top of that, you were still taking college classes from a foreign university at your parents' insistence. So, being a recurring character was out of the question.

Second, when they handed you the script, you hated the character. They wanted you to be the fan favorite, Spencer Reid’s love interest, and while you had no problem with that, the character itself didn’t sit right with you. She was this sweet, innocent woman, one who was a victim from one unsub, and Spencer, an addict, would find redemption through her. He’d get sober and everything would be perfectly happy. You thought it was dull.

For starters, you knew how controversial it would be for her to become his personal recovery center, but you also saw the potential in the character. So, you asked if you could rewrite her into something more dynamic, something with more depth. Given the trust Jeff had in you, he gave you free rein to make the changes.

“How’s it going?” Jack, one of your best friends and a Criminal Minds fan, asked, entering the living room.

“A surprisingly moving amount of absolute nothing,” you said jokingly, staring at the blank space.

“Oh, come on, dude! We’ve watched some of the episodes together! You know the vibe,” he said, sitting down on the couch beside you.

“Well, I know the vibe, I just don’t know how to write it.” you said throwing your hands to the air in a comically exasperated way.

“Well, I know the vibe, I just don’t know how to write it,” you said, dramatically throwing your hands in the air, exasperated.

“Guess who’s gone viral again!” Nathan breezed into the room, flashing you a grin. He played your love interest on City Lights, and the fans went wild for your on-screen chemistry. But the truth was, you two were nothing more than really good friends. There was no romance, just a strong, platonic bond.

“Ugh... please tell me it’s for the right reasons.” You shut your eyes and let your head flop back against the couch.

Nathan tossed you his phone, then leaned casually on the backrest of the couch, Jack scooting closer to get a better look.

“What is it? Another red sauce scandal?” you asked, scrunching your nose at the thought.

Let me tell you something: becoming famous at 17 or 18 leaves you with a digital footprint that you'll wish you could erase by the time you’re 23.

He handed you his phone, showing a new release from Austin, your ex-boyfriend. The song title was painfully obvious—"Still Stuck on You." The lyrics left no room for interpretation, and the message hit you like a ton of bricks. Austin had written another song about you, and this time, he made it clear.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me! This is like the third one this year!” Your mouth hung open in disbelief as Jack, who had burst out laughing, took the phone from your hands and started scrolling through the Twitter comments.

He had been your “boyfriend” four years ago, but only for PR purposes. When you found out he’d cheated, you broke up with him. He begged and cried, and it was pathetic. Since then, Austin had turned your brief relationship into his whole persona. He released songs that were painfully obvious about you, dated women who looked eerily like you, and spent interviews throwing shade, spreading lies, all for attention. The problem? You were skyrocketing, gaining fame in ways he could never have predicted, and he—well, he was still stuck on you.

Your phone started ringing somewhere around the apartment, a FaceTime call vibrating through the cushions. You rummaged through the pillows on the couch, cursing under your breath as you came up empty.

“Seriously, how do you always lose it?” Nathan said, appearing behind you with a smirk. He found your phone wedged between the couch cushions and handed it to you just as you answered the call. As he did, you reached into your back pocket, pulling out a dollar bill and placing it in his open hand.

See, you had a special talent for losing your phone around the house, and your friends turned it into a game. Every time you misplaced it and one of them found it, you owed them a dollar.

“Bitch have you seen it?!” Ashley squealed from your phone, her voice laced with urgency.

“It's like jumpscare! you know it’s coming but it’s always surprisingly disappointing!” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Somebody said, ‘Are you writing a memoir or just trying to hit the ‘most dramatic ex’ award this year?’” You all chuckled at Jack’s reading.

“Gotta go, some stylist is calling me. Love ya, bye!” Ashley hung up quickly, going back to her photoshoot, leaving you to shake your head and wish her good luck.

Jack kept giggling at the comments, lost in the chaos of Austin’s latest stunt. Meanwhile, you stared blankly at your screen, the cursor blinking mockingly back at you.

Nathan gave you a playful shove. “You know what’s really offensive? The tempo on that track. It’s like he’s trying to be edgy but doesn’t understand how syncopation works.”

“Hmm, well, what else could you expect? Maybe you should make your own song about it, something with a real sense of rhythm,” You said absently, still staring at the screen, the cursor blinking in a never-ending challenge.

“And you should start writing that, maybe throw in a little revenge of your own,” he said, nudging his chin toward the computer screen with a grin. You frowned at him, your gaze drifting back to the cursor as you considered his words.

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You were studying—actually studying—sitting in the mini studio with notes scattered in front of you, calculator by your side, silently frustrated as you tried to make sense of the numbers. Ashley was on the other side of the desk in front of you, pacing and memorizing her lines, back and forth, her voice echoing in the room. Your grip tightened on your pencil, eyes flicking over the work in front of you, when your phone buzzed. Another message.

"We’ve heard about your 'plans,' but it’s hard to take them seriously when you can’t commit. It’s cute to 'explore options,' but at some point, you’ll have to stop playing around and think about your future. Don’t you want to be taken seriously?"

Maybe it was the sound of your phone tapping against the wood of the table, or the way your hand instinctively went to your eyes, trying to stop the threatening tears, that tipped Ashley off. She paused, looking up from her lines, eyes narrowing as she caught the shift in your mood, as she made it to your way, reading the message still open on your phone that had already sunk in, the familiar sting.

Ashley didn’t hesitate. She pulled you into a hug, still standing while you were sat, one arm wrapping around your shoulders tightly as she murmured, "Fuck them. Seriously. You don’t need their crap." She squeezed you harder, as if to prove the point. "You're better than any of that. Don’t let their bullshit get to you." Her voice was fierce, a protective edge in every word.

The relationship with your parents was complicated, to say the least. You'd tried to make them proud, but it was never enough. Now, more than ever, you’d rebel when you chose to become an actress. It felt ridiculous—like you were still studying against your will, trying to prove something you didn’t even want to.

"I mean, what the fuck will it take for them to take me seriously? A fucking Oscar? Have some damn patience—I’m working on it," you spat, voice shaky, leaning into Ashley as tears threatened to spill.

She sighed, pulling you in a little tighter. “Fuck them,” she muttered, her voice low but firm. “They don’t get it, and honestly, they probably never will. But you’ve got this. You’re doing something they can’t even begin to understand. Don’t let their bullshit get to you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, at least it wasn’t a call. I swear it’s pathetic how every time I get mad, I just cry.”

Ashley pulled you into a tight hug, her voice soft but firm. “Forget about them for a second, okay? You don’t need to study right now. You’ve been working your ass off. Take a break. You’re allowed to feel pissed off without worrying about your grades for a few minutes.” She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “You’re doing your best, and that’s all that matters.”

With a last shaky breath and wiping away the tears that had escaped, you nodded. Ashley sighed, her voice soft but firm. “Hey, enough with the studying for now. You’ve been pushing yourself way too hard. Wanna get cute and go out for some coffee?” She gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You deserve a break.”

You chuckled, truly this time, and shook your head. "Maybe later. You finish with your lines, and I’ll… go grab some snacks," she nodded, giving you a smile, picking up the forgotten script.

You were still shaken, even frustrated at how powerless you felt around your parents, and how you reacted to your feelings. You cried, and sometimes words became hard to find. You wished you could scream and destroy everything, just let it all out, like those female rage characters, but for now, you were left in silence.

Which gave you an idea.

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That’s how you ended up creating your character—in a fully cathartic, all-nighter frenzy, shaping her with layers of meaning. Like her nickname, “Woody,” a nod to Nathan’s favorite movie, Toy Story—a little inside joke, a quiet way of taking revenge in your own way.

She was everything you weren’t, and at the same time, everything you were.

And then there was her best friend, Austin—played by Jack, of course, since he was a huge fan of the show—who you took every opportunity to be mean to, just for the fun of it.

You’d never admit it, but the line “Austin is not my boyfriend”? Yeah, that had a little extra bite to it. A double meaning, if you will.

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The producers loved it. The depth of your character, how dark her storyline was. Because if you really want to keep the audience engaged? Give them two characters who are absolutely perfect for each other—but can’t be together.

And when the idea of adding Jack came up, they agreed immediately. What’s better than one City Lights star joining the show? Two City Lights stars.

But they had asked you to keep the secret from everyone, including the current cast. Who you'll be meeting and revealing your characters to in the table reading

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Jack and you were currently at ABC’s costume department, standing in front of a mirror while the costume designer and a wardrobe assistant made final adjustments to your outfits.

“Man, I’m boiling in here,” you groaned, peeling off the red shirt as the wardrobe assistant jotted down notes about the fit.

Jack, meanwhile, admired himself in the mirror, dramatically flipping back the leather jacket he was trying on. “Do I look tough? Like, would you trust me with your deepest, darkest secret?” He smirked, striking a pose straight out of an action movie.

The costume designer, pinning a hem on your sleeve, barely glanced up. “You look like an extra in a bad '90s biker film.”

“You look like you're about to challenge a middle schooler to a dance battle,” you added, crossing your arms.

Jack gasped, clutching his chest. “Wow. Zero faith in me.”

“More like zero intimidation factor” You said from the changing room, a few moments later, you stepped out wearing a white shirt and black vest, and flashed Jack a playful grin. “So, do I finally look like the child my parents can brag about?” you joked, adjusting the vest slightly.

The wardrobe assistant shot you a thumbs up, clearly impressed with the fit.

“Are you maxing out someone's card again?” A voice asked behind you.

You turned around to see Matthew grinning. You chuckled, scrambling for a response. “Well… I’m not legally allowed to talk about it,” you said, cringing internally.

Man, you were awkward without alcohol in your veins.

He chuckled, stepping closer to pull you into a brief hug in greeting. You’d already worked together on The Beauty Inside, so the familiarity was there—comfortable, easy, playful even.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

“Ummm well..” You turned to Jack with panic in your eyes. Jack, ever the performer, didn’t miss a beat. “We’re actually here to stage a heist. High-stakes, top secret.” He waggled his eyebrows.

You groaned, shoving his shoulder. “We’re doing costume fittings.”

Matthew raised a brow, clearly amused. “Costume fittings, huh?” His gaze flickered to the wardrobe racks surrounding you. “For something unannounced?”

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line. “I plead the fifth.”

Jack threw an arm around your shoulders. “She’s under strict secrecy orders, but between us?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “It 's big.”

“Jaaack,” you warned, dragging out the 'a' in a clear sign for him to be careful.

“Well, if you’re in it, I bet it is,” he said, smirking at you.

You chuckled, clearing your throat. “Soo, what are you doing here?”

“Well, this is kinda where I work,” he said with a shrug teasing. Right. This was where the cast of Criminal Minds did their fittings, although the producers had made sure you were not scheduled together to avoid leaks.

You raised an eyebrow, looking around the room. "Here? In the costume department?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying your confusion. "Yep, I mean, what else would I be doing here? Getting my wardrobe ready for my big role?" he added, his tone mock-serious. “What are you supposed to be, by the way? A real estate agent? I bet you’re just one property listing away from a deal of the century,” he said, eyeing your clothes.

You chuckled again. “No, um… I’m actually a very boring banker,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much. Like get a hold of yourself girlie, he’s just a tall, handsome man, with nice hair and curls and pretty eyes, and gentle. Somebody, hand me a glass of water, or wine, whichever is easier.

The costume designer called your name, already holding more clothes in her hands. "We need to finish these adjustments, sweetheart."

You nodded, trying to shake off the distraction. "Right, I’ll be right there."

Matthew smirked, taking it as his cue to leave. "I guess I'll let you continue. Good luck being a banker," he teased, giving you one last look.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks, Matthew," you said, turning toward the designer as he walked off.

Jack, who had been quietly observing from the corner, chimed in with a grin. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘big role’ like a banker in slacks."

You shot him a playful glare. "Oh shut up, Johnny Bravo," you joked, laughing as he dramatically posed in response.

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The producers stood at the front of the room, their eyes scanning the assembled cast. There was a buzz in the air—everyone was settling in, ready for the read-through to begin. After a quick round of hellos and some introductions, one of the producers, a tall woman with a clipboard, stood up to speak.

“Alright, everyone, before we dive in, we have a very exciting addition to the cast today. You’re about to meet someone who is going to bring a lot of depth and intensity to the world of Criminal Minds.” The showrunner smiled at you, saying your names and introducing the new character you’d be bringing to life.

Jack, sitting beside you, was doing his best to keep his cool, but the way he gripped his script gave him away. His knuckles were turning white from how tightly he held the pages, and you couldn’t help but smirk. Leaning toward him, you whispered, “That’s not bubble wrap.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and he whisper-shouted, “That’s Mandy Patinkin sitting right there. Do you have any idea how my mom would react if she were here?”

You chuckled under your breath, keeping your eyes on the table. Across from you, Matthew sat diagonally, flipping through the script with a furrowed brow. When he glanced up, he shot you a mock-offended look and mouthed, “Liar.”

You choked back a laugh, quickly mouthing “Sorry” with a small shrug just as the producers began reading.

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The reading session had concluded, and you were chatting with Paget about how much you had loved her in Friends. Meanwhile, Jack was across the room, subtly—well, not so subtly—trying to get an autograph from Mandy.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Matthew making his way toward you, but pretended not to notice, keeping your attention on Paget. You had a feeling he was about to make some kind of remark, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of expecting it.

“You should be careful with her, she lied to me and told me she was going to be some boring banker,” he finally said, warning Paget with a smirk,

You turned to him with an unimpressed look. “I’ll take that as I’m good at my job”

Paget raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Oh, so she tricked you? That’s embarrassing, Gubler.”

Matthew placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I was misled! Deceived! Here I was, thinking I had met a perfectly normal, unassuming banker, only to find out she’s infiltrating our world.”

She laughed and patted his shoulder before the showrunner called her, leaving you alone with him.

“Nice shoes, by the way,” he said, looking down at your mismatched Converse—one deep red and the other black, matching your red top.

You chuckled. “Thanks. People keep making fun of me on the internet, saying I must've rushed out of the house.”

He laughed and pulled up his pants, revealing his mismatched socks—one purple with yellow dots and the other blue with bananas. “Well, that’s because they’re boring.”

“Oh God, they’re so cool,” you genuinely liked how bizarre they were.

“Hey, I saw your name on the last page of the credits... Did you write those episodes?” he asked, kind of amazed.

“Well, I um... added some minor stuff, really,” you said, lying a little. “Just to make her more sarcastic and fun… like, I can’t wait to get covered in blood for the shots.”

He laughed just as Jack reappeared, clutching his freshly signed Mandy Patinkin autograph like it was the Holy Grail. “I blacked out for half of that conversation, but I think I played it cool.”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so.” You were about to say something more when a producer called for both of you.

With an apologetic smile, you said goodbye to Matthew, but before you turned around, he called out, “Can I get your number this time, or do I have to wish we get cast together again?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you handed him your number. “I guess I’ll wait for your call.”

“You better pick up. There are some scenes I think will need some rehearsal.” His words made your stomach flip, and a flush crept up your face.

Pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much, you retorted, “You better be quick. My schedule is full.” That made him chuckle.

The producer called for you again, and you made your way toward him and Jack, still feeling the warmth of the moment lingering. You once promised yourself to not-date-coworkers. Maybe if those coworkers weren’t so funny and handsome you wouldn’t reconsider your own words.

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If you want to find out more about the CM character click here!

Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg x you

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haerinari · 1 year ago

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Brother`s Best Friend

pairing: brother’sbestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: he was your brother’s best friend, you were his best friend sister. with him spending mostly of the time in your house, how can you possibly not fall for him?

warnings: nsfw content, smut, mentions on masturbation, kissing, boob play, face sitting, oral (f receiving), clit play, a bit of overstimulation, teasing,

want to keep reading? click here ⬇️

"i'm going to the store to buy some snacks for me and heesung, you want somethin'?" your brother jake asked you, keys on his hands and opening the door.

"i'm fine, thanks jake" you answered your brother with a sweet smile.

god, he's finally gone.

you and heeseung know each other for around 3 years by now, he has always been your brother's best friend, so it was normal to see him around your house almost every week. it all started a couple months ago, when he accidentally saw you touching yourself while waiting for Jake to come back from the convenient store. oh, how good his fingers felt inside your pussy that day.

both of you knew that this wasn't completely right, after all, you were his best friend's little sister. but did you care? absolutely not. you only care about how good he was at kissing and how good his big dick felt inside your tight little pussy. of course you and heesung had a few make out sessions before, actually not a few, many. it was the same excuse every friday, "i'm going to the mall with Lia and Yeji, probably i'll stay at Yeji's house, don't wait for me". the truth was that you were sneaking into heesung's apartment and fucking him all night, all behind your brother's back.

you have been waiting all afternoon for jake to leave at some point, of course for you and heesung to have some time to make a quickie. and after what seemed an eternity, the perfect time had finally arrived. you got up from the couch and got upstairs to jake’s room, there was him, laying on the bed watching something on his phone. you crawled into jake’s bed, positioning your body lightly on top of Heeseung and giving him a kiss.

“baby, you know that we could get caught” heeseung said in your lips, his hand pressing your back so your whole body was on top of him.

“jake went to the store to buy some snacks, we have a little time” it would not be the first time that you and heesung do something quickly, it was difficult to have enough time if it wasn’t on his house.

“how can i say no to my pretty girl, hmm?” he smirked and then kiss you again. his big, veiny hands went under your hoodie, slowly massaging one of your boobs while the other one was been pinched.

“we should probably go to my room” you said, your lips all swollen and red from hardly kissing Heesung. “If my brother is going to find us, at some point, i don’t want it to be in his room” you chuckled.

both heesung and you got up from jake’s bed and quickly ran into yours. you closed the door with your back, leaning after to kiss heeseung again. this time the kiss was deeper, more intense, his lips were hardly crashing into yours while his tongue was brushing softly your lips.

he then went a little down, leaving open mouth kisses in your jaw and neck, his hands massaging your ass. you felt the familiar sensation of his tongue mixed with the his teeth on your neck, he was sucking so hard that it was impossible not to leave a mark. heeseung took your hoodie off, leaving your tits exposed at his gaze, of course you were not using a bra, not when he was in your house and you wanted to call his attention.

his mouth went straight to your left boob, putting his lips all around you hard nipples and sucking softly. his other hand went to your right boob, his thumb rubbing small circles on your nipple. he licked and suck your tit for a while, then pressing them together and moving them around to see how they bounced up and down. he repeated his previous actions in your other tit, leaving a hickey just above your nipple. he was just sucking your tits and your legs already felt like jelly, thanks to your back that was pressed in the door you haven’t fall.

“please hee, i need you…” you begged almost in whisper. you knew it wasn’t long until jake comes back, but you were so wet already that your panties were sticking to your dripping cunt.

“we don’t have enough time, baby” heeseung answered, his hands still on your boobs.

“please hee, i’ll be quiet, i promise. jake’s not coming back…we’ll be quick”

heeseung’s hands travel down your stomach, one of them stopping in your waist while the other one went directly to your pussy. he passed one of his fingers on your slit, spreading your juices and feeling how wet you were.

“oh fuck, you’re so wet baby” he groaned. “do you need my cock that bad, pretty? i’m sorry to tell you that you won’t get my cock tonight beautiful, but i won’t leave you like this”

“what-”

“sit in my face baby, c’mon” heeseung told you while laying on your bed.

of course you followed him, pulling down your joggers and panties, leaving your pussy exposed. you placed both of your thighs around his head, already feeling his hot breath on your dripping cunt.

“shit heesung…” you moaned.

heeseung started rubbing slowly circles on your clit, his fingers spreading your folds open to see you completely. his tongue went directly to your hole, giving you kitten licks as his fingers were still rubbing your clit. his beautiful and soft lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking hardly and almost making you see stars.

he put two of his fingers inside you, curling them up and hitting your g-spot perfectly. with his face literally buried inside your pussy and his fingers hitting that sweet spot, of course that you won’t last any longer.

“oh god, fuck, i think i’m gonna cum” you gasped, the knot on your stomach becoming more intense.

“fuck yourself with my mouth until you cum, baby. ride my face and make yourself cum” hee answered, all his lips and chin covered in your juices.

your hips started to move back and forth, heeseung’s tongue passing all over your folds while his nose touched you clit every time you ride him. you were sure that you were suffocating him, but all you could think about was how good his mouth felt on your cunt.

“shit shit shit, i’m cumming” you gasped, riding him a few more times until his face was all covered by your cum. “fuck, that felt so go-”

“y/n are you okay?” a voice behind your door asked. fuck, jake was here. “did you hurt yourself? i hear a gasp”

you looked down your legs, heesung watching you with a smirk in his face. oh you were panicking, the was no chance that jake didn’t notice that his best friend was no longer in his room.

“y-yeah i was just - ahh” you covered you mouth quickly, you couldn’t believe this was happening. you were trying to hide heeseung and he was trying to get caught. how dare he to start sucking your clit again while you we’re talking to your brother.

“have you seen heeseung? he was in my bed when in left, he’s no longer there” your brother asked.

“jake i don’t -shit- i don’t know anything, okay?” you stuttered, the overstimulation of heesung’s tongue on your core making talking a hard task.

“y/n, open the door”

“jake, no- i…”

“heeseung you fucker, you better come out”

oh, shit.

#lee heeseung #heesung enhypen #lee heesung x reader #enhypen smut #heesung smut #lee heesung smut #kpop smut #enhypen #enhypen jake #shim jake #smut #enhypen imagines #enha x reader

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ssa-danhotchner · 1 month ago

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The thread that binds us | Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary: after years of friendship, missed chances, and unspoken feelings, Aaron Hotchner and the reader drift apart. Life takes them in different directions—promises left unfulfilled, words left unsaid.

cw: fem reader, non BAU reader, mention of Haley's death, emotional angst, missed chances, grief

wc: 9.6k

note: the years are not exact

english isn't my first language so please be kind! i recently watched Love, Rosie so I have to write this

You met Aaron Hotchner in high school—though “met” wasn’t quite the right word. It was more like fate threw you together in the most chaotic way possible.

The first day of junior year, you showed up late to homeroom, and the only seat left was next to him. He had his arms crossed, his black hoodie pulled over his head, and a bored expression on his face. He looked like the kind of guy who never broke rules and always finished his homework on time.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath as you slid into the chair.

He glanced sideways at you, arching an eyebrow. “Something wrong with sitting here?”

“Not yet,” you said with a smirk, pulling out your notebook.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t until later that day in chemistry class that you found out how insufferable—and surprisingly fun—Aaron Hotchner could be.

“Do you even know how to hold a pipette?” you asked as you watched him fumble with the equipment.

“Do you?” he shot back, his dark eyes narrowing playfully.

“Yes, actually. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m brilliant.”

“Right,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re so brilliant you couldn’t even find your way to homeroom on time.”

“Touché,” you muttered, grabbing the pipette from him. “Move over. Let me save you from yourself.”

He grinned then, wide and genuine, and it was the first time you realized Aaron Hotchner wasn’t as stoic as he seemed. In fact, he could be downright charming when he let his guard down.

𐙚

1984

You became friends after that, though it wasn’t immediate. Aaron wasn’t the type to let people in easily, but once he did, he was loyal to a fault.

By senior year, you were inseparable. People joked that you were attached at the hip, though neither of you ever corrected them. You weren’t dating—everyone assumed you were, but it wasn’t like that. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you doing after graduation?” Aaron asked one day as you sat in your usual spot on the bleachers, watching the soccer team practice.

“I don’t know,” you said, kicking at a loose piece of gravel. “College, I guess. You?”

“Probably the same,” he said, leaning back on his elbows. “My dad wants me to go to law school eventually.”

“Of course he does. You’ve got ‘future lawyer’ written all over you.”

“And what do you have written all over you?” he asked, glancing at you with a smirk.

“Trouble,” you said, grinning.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said, laughing softly.

𐙚

Aaron had been thinking about asking you to prom for weeks.

It wasn’t that he assumed you’d say yes, but the idea of going with anyone else just didn’t make sense. You were his best friend. His person. The one who understood him better than anyone.

But there was this nagging doubt in the back of his mind—this quiet voice that whispered, Why would she want to go with you?

You were effortlessly charming, the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking into it. Meanwhile, Aaron was… well, Aaron. Reserved. Cautious. Always too serious for his own good.

So he hesitated.

And then, one afternoon, he found himself in the hallway with Haley Brooks—the golden girl of your high school, the one everyone adored. She was kind, beautiful, and, most importantly, she was interested in him.

He should’ve walked away. He should’ve told her he already had someone in mind.

But when she smiled at him and casually mentioned how she still didn’t have a date for prom, something inside him wavered.

He thought about how easy it would be.

How no one would question why Aaron Hotchner, the quiet, studious overachiever, was taking Haley Brooks to prom.

How maybe, just maybe, if he asked you and you said no, it wouldn’t hurt as much if he had never asked at all.

So instead of finding you after school like he had planned, he looked at Haley and said, “Do you want to go with me?”

𐙚

You smiled when Aaron and Haley arrived at prom together.

At least, you hoped it looked like a smile.

You had spent weeks waiting for him to ask you, certain that he would. Certain that, after all these years, it just made sense.

But he never did.

And when you saw him standing beside Haley in his perfectly pressed suit, his hand resting carefully at her waist, you understood why.

So you smiled. You laughed. You pretended it didn’t sting.

But when a slow song came on, and he met your eyes across the dance floor, something inside you twisted painfully.

Because for a brief moment, you saw it—hesitation. Regret.

And then, before either of you could move, Haley took his hand, pulling him toward the dance floor.

So you turned away, forcing yourself to do the same.

Later that night, when the party had begun to slow and most of the crowd had thinned, you felt a familiar presence behind you.

You turned, and there he was.

Aaron.

He looked unsure, like he was still trying to convince himself to be here.

“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You hesitated. “What about Haley?”

“She won’t mind,” he said quickly. “It’s just one dance.”

Just one dance.

So you let him take your hand, let him pull you onto the dance floor as another slow song started. His hands found your waist, your arms looped around his shoulders, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

Like it was still just the two of you, the way it had always been.

You swayed in silence, and then—so softly it almost didn’t feel real—Aaron leaned in.

Your breath hitched.

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was hesitant, searching—like he was afraid of what it meant but couldn’t stop himself, either.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, your heart hammering against your ribs. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing had ever felt quite like this.

But then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away.

His eyes were wide, his breathing unsteady, and for a moment, you thought he was about to say something that would change everything.

But then his face shuttered.

“I—” He swallowed, shaking his head slightly. “That was a mistake.”

The words hit you like a slap.

Aaron must have seen something in your face because he immediately backpedaled. “I mean—I just—” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your stomach twisted, and you forced yourself to nod. “Right. Yeah.”

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. The song was still playing, but neither of you were dancing anymore.

You should’ve said something. Told him he was wrong. That it wasn’t a mistake, that it meant something.

But instead, you nodded again and forced a smile. “It’s fine, Aaron.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else—like he was desperate to—but instead, he just exhaled and gave you the smallest, saddest smile.

And that was that.

Neither of you brought it up again.

𐙚

You and Aaron didn’t fall apart after that night.

You still spent the summer together before college, still stayed up late talking, still laughed until your stomachs hurt.

And if sometimes his eyes lingered on you a little too long, or if you caught yourself remembering the feeling of his lips on yours—you both pretended it never happened.

Because that’s what Aaron wanted.

And if he could pretend, then so could you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

It hadn’t been a mistake.

It had been a choice.

And maybe, one day, he would finally be brave enough to make a different one.

𐙚

The summer after graduation felt like borrowed time.

You and Aaron knew things were changing—college, distance, new experiences—but neither of you talked about it. Instead, you spent every moment together, stretching out the days like they could last forever.

Late-night drives with the windows down, the radio playing softly in the background. Sneaking into your old high school football field, lying on the grass, talking about nothing and everything. Silent moments where you’d catch him looking at you, like he was memorizing your face, just in case.

But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, August crept closer.

“I don’t get why you’re going all the way to New York,” Aaron said one evening, his voice unusually tense. You were sitting on the swings at the park, your feet dragging in the dirt.

“Because I need to,” you said simply, staring up at the sky. “And you’re staying here because you need to.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “We’ll still talk all the time.”

You nodded, but a part of you didn’t believe it.

It wasn’t like you wanted to drift apart, but life had a way of pulling people in different directions.

𐙚

At first, you kept your promise.

You called constantly—late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours, emails filled with inside jokes and stories about your new lives. You told Aaron about your classes, your new favorite coffee shop, the people you met. He told you about his professors, how law school wasn’t as bad as he expected, how his dad was already making plans for his future.

But as the months passed, the calls grew less frequent.

“I miss you,” you admitted one night, your voice quieter than usual.

“I miss you too,” he said, but he sounded tired, distracted.

And then, one day, he didn’t pick up.

It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He got busy. You got busy. Weeks turned into months. You’d pick up your phone to text him, only to hesitate, wondering if he’d even have time to respond.

Slowly, the spaces between your conversations stretched wider, until one day, you realized you hadn’t spoken in over a year.

𐙚

1995

You weren’t expecting an invitation to Aaron’s wedding.

By that point, it had been years since you’d last spoken. Life had pulled you in opposite directions—him with law school and the FBI, you with your career and a life far from Virginia. But one day, an envelope appeared in your mailbox, his name scrawled neatly across the back.

Opening it, you found an invitation to his wedding with Haley.

It felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs.

The last time you’d seen Aaron, there had been something unspoken lingering between you, something you had buried deep because you didn’t know what to do with it. But now, seeing his name next to hers, reality hit you like a freight train.

He had moved on. He was happy.

And you? You weren’t sure what you felt.

A week later, your phone rang.

“Y/N,” Aaron’s familiar voice came through the line.

“Aaron,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hey.”

“Did you get the invitation?” he asked.

“I did,” you said softly. “I was… surprised.”

“I know,” he admitted, his tone hesitant. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. But it wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

Your chest tightened.

“Of course I’ll come,” you said, even though part of you wanted to say no.

There was a pause, and then he cleared his throat. “There’s, uh, something else. Haley and I were talking… and I was wondering if you’d say a few words at the reception. You’ve known me the longest out of anyone, and—”

“Aaron,” you interrupted gently, your heart aching. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

𐙚

The day of the wedding came faster than you expected.

You arrived at the church early, trying to keep your emotions in check as you took your seat near the front. The ceremony was beautiful—Haley looked radiant, Aaron impossibly handsome in his tux. Watching them exchange vows was bittersweet; you were happy for him, truly, but it was impossible to ignore the pang of longing deep in your chest.

At the reception, you did your best to blend into the background, sipping champagne and avoiding the dance floor. But when Aaron called your name, motioning for you to come up and speak, there was no hiding.

You took a deep breath, standing up and walking to the microphone. The room was quiet, all eyes on you, but your focus was solely on him.

“Hi, everyone,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Y/n. Aaron and I have been friends since high school, and I’m honored to be here today to celebrate this incredible milestone in his life.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the small, encouraging smile he gave you.

“I could stand here and talk for hours about the kind of person Aaron is. How he’s always been the smartest guy in the room, how he has this way of making everyone feel safe, of making them laugh even when he pretends he’s the serious one. He’s someone who gives all of himself to the people he loves.”

You hesitated, gripping the edge of the microphone stand.

“But what I really want to say is this: Aaron, no matter where life takes you, no matter where you are or who you’re with, you’ll always have a piece of my heart. I’ll always love you.”

The room was quiet for a beat before polite applause broke out. Everyone took your words as the sentiment of a lifelong friend, but when your eyes met Aaron’s, you knew he didn’t.

His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, maybe even regret.

He didn’t say anything, though.

Later, as the night wound down, you found yourself alone on the balcony, staring out at the stars. You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Aaron standing there, his jacket off, his tie loosened.

He stepped beside you, resting his hands on the railing. The soft hum of music and laughter filtered through the open door, but out here, it was quiet—just the two of you and the weight of everything unspoken.

“You always did sneak away at parties,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth.

You smiled faintly. “Some things never change.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the kind that felt more like a conversation than anything you could put into words. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the slight slouch of his shoulders, the loosened tie, the way his fingers curled against the railing like he was anchoring himself.

“I meant what I said in there,” you said softly, breaking the stillness.

His jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might say something. But instead, he exhaled slowly, looking down at his hands.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “Aaron…”

He turned to you then, his dark eyes meeting yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw it—something raw and vulnerable, something that felt like an echo of the feelings you had buried long ago.

And just like that, it was gone.

Because Aaron already knew what you were about to say.

And he wanted—God, he wanted—to tell you he felt the same way. That there had been nights when he couldn’t sleep, thinking about the way you’d looked at him during your prom dance. That there had been moments when he’d almost picked up the phone, only to stop himself because he was afraid of what it would mean. That even now, standing beside you on his wedding night, part of him wished things had been different.

But he couldn’t.

Not now. Not tonight.

So instead, he reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than they should have.

“You always know what to say,” he said quietly, his lips twitching into a small, bittersweet smile.

You searched his face, hoping—praying—for something more. But he stepped back, the space between you suddenly feeling too wide and too small all at once.

“Come back inside,” he said, his voice soft. “They’ll miss you.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Okay.”

But as he walked back inside, you stayed behind, gripping the railing as your breath hitched in your throat.

Aaron had stopped at the doorway, his hand on the frame. For one fleeting second, he turned back to look at you, something heavy and unspoken in his eyes.

But he didn’t say it.

Because he knew that if he did, it would change everything.

And he couldn’t let himself do that.

So, with one final glance, he disappeared back into the glow of the reception, back to Haley, back to the life he had chosen.

You stayed on the balcony a little while longer, staring up at the stars, letting the weight of the moment settle over you.

Aaron loved you. You knew that now.

But sometimes, love wasn’t enough to rewrite the story.

And so, you turned and walked back inside, letting the door close behind you.

𐙚

2008

The coffee shop hadn’t changed.

It still smelled of roasted beans and cinnamon, the same tiny bell chimed above the door when someone walked in, and the old barista at the counter still greeted customers with a warm, knowing smile. It was one of those places that seemed untouched by time, as if the world could shift and change outside, but inside, everything remained the same.

You hadn’t been here in years. Not since before Aaron’s wedding.

And yet, as you stepped inside, the familiarity wrapped around you like an old memory.

You had been back in D.C. for a few days, just for work. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than a quick trip—a conference, a few meetings, and then back home. But something about the city had drawn you in, pulling at the threads of a past you thought you had let go of.

And apparently, fate wasn’t done with you yet.

Because there, sitting in the farthest corner of the café, was him.

Aaron Hotchner.

He looked different. Older, in a way that had nothing to do with age. His hair was shorter than you remembered, the sharp angles of his face even more defined. He looked good—too good—but there was something behind his eyes, a tiredness that hadn’t been there before.

You hesitated, debating whether or not to turn around and leave before he could see you. But it was too late.

Aaron looked up just as you took a step back, and the second his gaze locked onto yours, time seemed to slow.

His expression shifted from surprise to something softer, something almost unreadable. And then, before you could make a decision, he smiled—just a little, just enough to make your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You took a breath and walked toward him.

“Hey, stranger,” you said, your voice lighter than you felt.

Aaron’s lips twitched, like he was suppressing a real smile. “I was starting to think you disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

You chuckled as you slid into the chair across from him. “I could say the same about you.”

There was a beat of silence. Not an awkward one, just a quiet moment of taking each other in.

“How long has it been?” he asked finally.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Since your wedding.”

His expression flickered for a moment, but he covered it quickly, nodding. “Yeah. A long time.”

Another pause.

You weren’t sure how to bring it up—how to ask him how he was doing without bringing up her. The last time you had seen him, he had been standing at the altar, his hands in Haley’s as he vowed forever. And you had smiled, clapped along with everyone else, and then walked away, knowing deep down that something between you and Aaron had closed that day.

But now? Now, he was sitting here, alone.

“You look good,” you said instead. “Tired, but good.”

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s a nice way of saying I look like hell.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He took a sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup before setting it down. And then, just like that, his expression shifted again—more serious, more raw.

“I’m divorced.”

The words came so suddenly that it took you a moment to register them.

You blinked. “Oh.”

Aaron let out a breath, as if finally saying it aloud was both a relief and a weight at the same time. “It’s been over a half year now.”

Half year. And you had no idea.

You swallowed, trying to push past the sudden rush of emotions you couldn’t quite name. “I’m sorry, Aaron.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was… inevitable.” He leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “We tried. For a long time. But in the end, it just wasn’t working anymore.”

You wanted to ask what had happened. If it had been something specific, or if it had just been one of those things that slowly fell apart over time. But the way he was looking at you—calm, but tired—told you that he had already accepted it.

And maybe that was the hardest part.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, playing with the edge of your sleeve. “I mean… I know it’s not easy.”

Aaron nodded, his gaze dropping to his coffee. “No, it’s not. But it was the right thing.” He exhaled softly, then looked up at you again. “Enough about me. What about you? How’s life?”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you weren’t sure what to say. Your life had been full—work, travel, relationships that never seemed to stick—but sitting here with him, all of that seemed distant. Like another version of yourself had lived it.

“I’m good,” you said finally. “Busy, mostly. Traveling a lot for work.”

Aaron smirked. “Still running away from D.C.?”

You rolled your eyes. “I prefer the term ‘exploring my options.’”

That made him chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two people who had spent their high school years hiding out on rooftops and sneaking off to coffee shops to escape reality.

But things had changed.

He wasn’t the same boy you had fallen for all those years ago. And you weren’t the same girl who had spent too many nights wondering if he ever saw you the way you saw him.

Yet, somehow, the thread between you had never truly broken.

Aaron’s expression softened again, and before you could say anything else, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a few taps, he turned it toward you, showing you a picture.

A little boy with light hair and bright, curious eyes stared back at you, his smile so familiar it made your chest tighten.

“Is this…?”

“Jack,” Aaron said, and there was something different in his voice now. Something lighter. “He’s four now.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips as you studied the picture. “He’s adorable.”

Aaron chuckled, putting his phone away. “He’s amazing. Smart, stubborn, way too independent for his own good.” He shook his head fondly. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You watched him for a moment, the way his entire demeanor had changed. Even after everything—the divorce, the exhaustion written in the lines of his face—there was no mistaking the love he had for his son. It was in every word, in every expression.

And something about that made your heart ache even more.

“You’d love him,” Aaron added after a pause, looking at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

You met his gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m sure I would.”

Neither of you said anything after that. You just sat there, in a coffee shop that had stayed the same, even when everything else had changed.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of the story after all.

𐙚

The few days in D.C. passed too quickly.

You and Aaron spent what little time you could together—coffee in the mornings, long conversations that stretched into the evening. It was strange how easily you fell back into each other’s rhythm, like time had never separated you at all.

But reality had a way of creeping back in.

The night before you left, you sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the city lights glowing softly in the distance. Aaron had insisted on walking with you one last time, hands shoved in his pockets, his face unreadable.

“So,” he said after a long silence. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, staring out at the reflecting pool.

Neither of you said what you were really thinking. That it wasn’t fair. That fate had brought you back together only to pull you apart again.

Aaron shifted beside you. “I should’ve called you years ago.”

You turned to him, surprised. His gaze was distant, his jaw tight.

“I thought about it,” he admitted, finally looking at you. “So many times. But I kept telling myself it had been too long. That maybe you’d moved on.”

Your heart ached at the confession.

“I would’ve answered,” you said softly.

His lips pressed together, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to.

Instead, he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. His grip was warm, solid, grounding.

Maybe, in another lifetime, this moment would’ve been different. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to say goodbye again.

𐙚

The night air was crisp as you stood outside your hotel, your bag resting at your feet. Aaron stood beside you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, the city lights casting a soft glow on his face.

“I feel like I should say something profound,” you said, offering a small, wry smile.

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to.”

But there was something in his expression—something unreadable, something hesitant.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “This was nice. Seeing you again.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

A beat of silence.

The car that would take you to the airport pulled up to the curb, but neither of you moved.

You looked up at him, and suddenly, the weight of it all settled in your chest. The fact that, after years apart, you had found each other again—only for you to leave. Again.

His gaze softened, and you could feel it—that pull, the invisible string that had always been there between you, stretching taut.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, he was closer. The warmth of his body cut through the cold night air, and your breath hitched as his hand barely, barely brushed against yours.

It would be so easy.

So easy to close the space, to lean in, to finally let go of all the years of missed chances and unspoken words.

Your heart pounded as you tilted your chin up ever so slightly, eyes flickering to his lips.

And for a moment, you thought—

But then, just as quickly as the moment came, Aaron took a step back.

His jaw tightened, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “I should let you go,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “Yeah.”

The door to the car opened, and you forced yourself to move, to pick up your bag and step away from him.

As you slid into the seat, you risked one last glance at him.

He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you go.

And then the door closed, and you were gone.

𐙚

2009

It was late. Too late for a casual call.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up in the darkness of your hotel room. You were half-asleep, groggy as you reached for it, your brain sluggishly registering the name on the screen.

Aaron.

A strange feeling settled in your stomach as you sat up, clearing your throat before answering.

“Aaron?”

At first, there was nothing. Just silence and the sound of breathing—uneven, shaky.

You frowned, fully awake now. “Aaron? Are you okay?”

Then, finally, his voice. But it was different. Not the steady, composed Aaron Hotchner you had always known. This voice was hollow, cracked at the edges, barely above a whisper.

“She’s gone.”

Two words.

And yet, they carried a weight that nearly stole the breath from your lungs.

Your grip on the phone tightened. “What?”

Aaron inhaled sharply, but it sounded ragged. “Haley,” he murmured. “She’s… she’s gone.”

It hit you like a punch to the chest.

Haley.

You closed your eyes, your heart aching in a way you hadn’t expected. No matter what had happened between them—no matter the divorce, the years, the distance—she had been a part of his life, the mother of his child. And now, she was gone.

“Oh, Aaron…”

He didn’t say anything. And that silence—his silence—was almost worse than if he had broken down.

You could hear it in the way he was breathing, though. The way he was holding himself together by a thread.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” he admitted after a long moment, his voice barely there.

Your heart clenched.

“Aaron,” you said softly, leaning forward, as if that would somehow bring you closer to him. “Where are you?”

“Home.” Another pause. Then, quieter, “Jack is asleep.”

You shut your eyes. The thought of Jack—so small, so young—losing his mother made your chest tighten painfully.

“I’m coming,” you said without hesitation, already pushing the blankets off, already reaching for your suitcase.

Aaron exhaled, and you swore you heard the slightest waver in it.

“Okay,” he murmured.

That was it.

No protest. No telling you that you didn’t have to.

Just okay.

Because right now, he didn’t need distance. He didn’t need space.

He needed you.

And you would be there. Always.

𐙚

The flight to D.C. felt like the longest of your life.

You barely remembered packing. Barely remembered booking the ticket, rushing through the airport, or the restless way your fingers twisted in your lap during the flight. All you could think about was him.

The man who had always been steady, composed, unshakable. The man who, even in his darkest moments, never allowed himself to break.

But tonight, he had called you.

And that told you everything you needed to know.

By the time you arrived at his apartment, it was past midnight. The cab ride had been quiet, the city lights casting long shadows over the streets. When you stepped out in front of the building, you hesitated for just a moment, your heart pounding.

Then you walked inside.

The hallway leading to his door felt endless, every step heavier than the last. When you finally reached it, you took a deep breath and knocked softly.

It only took a few seconds for the door to open.

And the second you saw him, everything inside you shattered.

Aaron looked wrecked.

His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened and off-center, like he had pulled at it absentmindedly. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed, dark circles beneath them. He looked like a man who had lost something he couldn’t fathom living without.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without thinking, without hesitation, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Aaron didn’t move at first. He just stood there, stiff, like he wasn’t sure how to respond. Like he had forgotten what it meant to be held.

But then, slowly—so slowly—his arms came around you, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

And that’s when you felt it.

The way his body shook against yours. The way his fingers curled into your jacket like he needed something to hold onto. The way his breath came out in a harsh, uneven exhale against your shoulder.

It was the closest thing to breaking you had ever seen from him.

And it crushed you.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your throat tight, your eyes burning.

Aaron didn’t answer. He just held you tighter.

You stayed like that for a long time, standing in the doorway, wrapped in grief and something else—something unspoken, something that had always been there between you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes searched yours, something vulnerable in them that you had never seen before.

Then, in a voice so raw it barely sounded like him, he said, “She told me to take care of him.”

You swallowed, your heart aching. “Jack?”

Aaron nodded, blinking rapidly, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “She made me promise.” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists like he was trying to pull himself back together. “But I don’t—”

He stopped, exhaling sharply. Then, softer, more broken, “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not alone.”

Aaron’s gaze snapped back to yours, something unreadable in his eyes.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise, Aaron. You’re not alone.”

For a moment, he just looked at you.

And then, finally—finally—he nodded.

And in that moment, something between you shifted.

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe it was the years of missed chances and unspoken words. Or maybe, it was just the simple fact that, no matter how much time passed, you would always find your way back to each other.

Even in the darkest of nights.

Even when the world felt unbearably heavy.

You would always be his person.

And deep down, you knew—he would always be yours.

𐙚

The first week after the funeral, you woke up to the sound of movement.

You rubbed your eyes, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the apartment. It took you a moment to register where you were—on the couch, still wrapped in the blanket from last night.

Then you heard it again. The soft rustling of fabric, the quiet click of a belt buckle.

You sat up immediately, pushing the blanket off as you spotted Aaron standing near the kitchen, already dressed in his suit.

Your stomach dropped.

“You’re going in?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep but laced with disbelief.

Aaron barely glanced at you as he adjusted his tie. “There’s a case.”

You stared at him. “Aaron, no. You just—”

“I can’t sit here,” he interrupted, his voice steady but hollow. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, pressing his lips together tightly before exhaling. “I need to work.”

Your heart clenched.

He was doing what he always did—burying himself in the job, using it as a shield, as something to focus on so he wouldn’t have to sit still and feel.

You stood, walking toward him. “You need more time,” you said softly.

Aaron finally looked at you then, and for the first time since the funeral, there was something sharp in his gaze. Not anger—just exhaustion, frustration.

“I don’t have time,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Jack needs stability. He needs normalcy. And if I don’t go back, if I don’t move, then—” He cut himself off again, clenching his jaw.

You swallowed hard, reaching out to touch his arm. “He needs you, Aaron. And you’re not ready—”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The weight in his voice made your chest ache.

You wanted to fight him on this. Wanted to tell him that he was being reckless, that he wasn’t a machine, that he needed to grieve before he shattered under the weight of it all.

But you knew Aaron.

You knew that if you pushed too hard, he’d only dig his heels in deeper.

So instead, you took a breath and shifted the conversation. “What about Jack?”

Aaron hesitated. “Jessica can take him for the day,” he said, but it sounded like an afterthought.

You shook your head. “No. Let me stay with him.”

Aaron blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” you said gently, giving him a look. “But I want to. He knows me. He’s comfortable with me. Let me be here for him while you—” You sighed, not wanting to finish that sentence.

While you run from your grief.

Aaron was quiet for a long time. His gaze flickered between you and Jack’s bedroom door, the weight of the decision settling over him.

Then, finally, he nodded.

“Okay.”

You let out a quiet breath, relieved that he wasn’t arguing. “Okay,” you echoed.

Aaron glanced at his watch, then back at you. There was something unreadable in his expression, something almost hesitant.

Then, before you could say anything else, he reached out, squeezing your hand briefly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

𐙚

Jack woke up about an hour later, padding out of his room in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes.

When he saw you in the kitchen, his tiny brows furrowed. “Where’s Daddy?”

You crouched down to his level, keeping your voice soft. “He had to go to work for a little bit.”

Jack’s lip wobbled slightly, but he didn’t cry. “He was sad yesterday.”

Your heart squeezed.

“I know, buddy,” you murmured, brushing some of his messy hair back. “But he loves you so much. And he’s going to be home soon.”

Jack hesitated, then looked up at you. “Will you stay?”

You smiled gently. “Of course. We’re gonna have a fun day together, okay?”

Jack seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding. Then, in a small voice, he said, “Can we have pancakes?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Absolutely.”

Jack’s face brightened, and for the first time since you arrived, you saw a glimpse of something lighter in his expression.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what happened, no matter how much Aaron tried to push forward too soon—you’d be here.

For Jack.

For Aaron.

For both of them.

Always.

𐙚

A month passed in the blink of an eye

The apartment was quiet.

Jack had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up in bed after insisting you read him his favorite book one last time before you left.

Now, it was just you and Aaron, sitting on the couch in the dim glow of the living room lamp, nursing cups of tea that had long gone cold.

Neither of you had said much for a while, just sitting in comfortable silence, knowing this was the last night before things changed again.

Aaron sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s going to be strange without you here.”

You smiled slightly. “You’ll manage.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Somehow.”

A beat of silence.

Then, without really thinking, you murmured, “I’m leaving my job.”

Aaron’s head turned sharply, his brows furrowing. “What?”

You let out a breath, staring down at your mug. “It’s… it became too much,” you admitted. “The hours, the pressure, the constant stress. I used to love it, but now it just feels like I’m running on empty all the time.”

Aaron was quiet, watching you carefully.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t want my entire life to be about work anymore. I want something simpler. Something where I don’t wake up every morning feeling like I can’t breathe.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I get that.”

You looked at him, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

Because he did get it.

Maybe better than anyone.

You smiled weakly. “I think I’m going to find something small. Something normal. Maybe work in a bookstore or a little office job—something where I can actually live my life instead of just surviving it.”

Aaron nodded slowly, considering your words. “That sounds… nice.”

You huffed a laugh. “You sound surprised.”

His lips twitched. “No. Just… I don’t think I’ve ever thought about what a normal life would look like.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You ever think about leaving the BAU?”

Aaron hesitated, looking down at his hands. “Sometimes.”

That surprised you. “Really?”

He exhaled. “I love what I do. But… I don’t know. Lately, I’ve started wondering if it’s sustainable. If it’s fair to Jack.”

You nodded, understanding.

Maybe neither of you had ever really stopped long enough to think about what else life could be.

You bit your lip, then nudged his arm lightly. “Maybe we should both find some sleepy little town and open a coffee shop.”

Aaron chuckled. “I’d be terrible at that.”

You smirked. “You’d be the serious owner who glares at customers for taking too long to order, and I’d be the one making sure we don’t get bad Yelp reviews.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s a solid business model.”

You grinned, but then, after a moment, the smile faded, replaced by something softer. “I mean it, though. You deserve something easier, Aaron.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something unreadable in his expression.

“You do too,” he murmured.

A beat of silence.

Then, before the moment could stretch too long, you sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Well, first things first—I need to figure out what I’m doing next.”

Aaron nodded, but his gaze lingered on you, like he was committing this moment to memory.

Like maybe, for the first time, he was realizing that you wouldn’t always be here.

That tomorrow, you were leaving.

And neither of you knew when you’d be back.

𐙚

The next morning came too quickly.

You woke up before your alarm, the weight of the day pressing down on your chest before you even opened your eyes.

By the time you stepped out of your room, your suitcase already packed and waiting by the door, Aaron was in the kitchen making coffee. Jack sat at the table in his pajamas, sleepily pushing around pieces of cereal in his bowl.

Aaron glanced up when he saw you, his expression unreadable. “Morning.”

You forced a smile. “Morning.”

Jack perked up at your voice, but as soon as he remembered what today was, his little face fell. “You’re leaving.”

Your heart clenched.

You walked over, crouching down beside his chair. “I am, buddy,” you said softly. “But I’m going to come visit. And you can call me whenever you want, okay?”

Jack hesitated, then wrapped his arms around your neck in a tight hug.

You held him close, closing your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth of him. “I love you, kiddo,” you murmured.

“Love you too,” he whispered back.

When he finally pulled away, he wiped at his eyes but nodded, like he was trying to be brave. “Okay.”

You gave him one last squeeze before standing up, turning to Aaron.

He was watching you carefully, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug.

“Your flight’s soon,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Aaron cleared his throat. “I’ll drive you.”

“Aaron—”

“It’s not up for debate,” he said, giving you a look. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, but you didn’t argue.

Jack waved from the door as you left, and you swore you saw his lip wobble, but he stayed put—just like you’d promised, he was strong.

𐙚

The drive to the airport was quiet.

Not uncomfortable. Just… heavy.

Neither of you seemed to know what to say.

When Aaron finally pulled up to the drop-off curb, he put the car in park and exhaled slowly. “You’ll text me when you land?”

You smiled faintly. “Of course.”

He nodded, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before finally turning to you. “You sure about leaving your job?”

You huffed a soft laugh. “I think so.”

Aaron studied you, then—before you could react—reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, that you froze.

His hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, clearing his throat.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Your chest ached. “You will too.”

Aaron exhaled, glancing away for a second before looking back at you. “Thank you. For everything.”

You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to thank me, Aaron.”

His jaw tightened, like there was something else he wanted to say.

Something he wouldn’t say.

Instead, he nodded once, his hand twitching slightly like he was debating whether to reach for you again. But he didn’t.

So you did.

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him.

For a second, Aaron hesitated.

Then he let out a quiet breath and pulled you in, holding you tighter than he probably meant to.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

And for just a moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But then—too soon—it had to.

You pulled back, forcing a small smile. “I’ll see you, okay?”

Aaron nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made it hard to walk away.

Still, you grabbed your suitcase and turned toward the airport entrance.

But just before you stepped inside, you glanced over your shoulder—

And there he was, still sitting in the car, watching you.

Like he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Like maybe, deep down—

He never would be.

𐙚

2011

The bullpen was quiet. Most of the team had already gone home for the night, leaving only the faint hum of computers and the distant murmur of voices from other departments. The dim glow of Aaron Hotchner’s desk lamp illuminated the stacks of paperwork in front of him, but he wasn’t reading them.

His eyes were on the framed picture beside his computer.

It was a simple photo, but one that had somehow found a permanent place in his office. You and Jack, at the park. You were laughing, your head tilted back slightly as Jack clung to your side, his small arms wrapped around yours. It had been taken nearly two years ago, back when you had been staying in D.C. after Haley’s death—back when you had been his anchor without even realizing it.

His fingers traced the edge of the frame absentmindedly.

How had two years passed?

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about you. In fact, that was the problem. He had never stopped thinking about you. It was in the quiet moments, in the spaces between work and home, in the memories that resurfaced when he least expected them.

He thought about you when Jack asked about you.

He thought about you when he reached for his phone late at night, only to stop himself before dialing your number.

He thought about you when he walked past the coffee shop you had loved in D.C., the one where you had made him take a break from his endless case files just to sit with you and drink overpriced lattes.

He thought about you, and every time he convinced himself to push it aside, it always crept back in.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. He was being ridiculous. He had no right to feel this way after all this time.

And yet, the ache in his chest told him otherwise.

The knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hotch?”

David Rossi.

Aaron straightened slightly, clearing his throat as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Yeah?”

Rossi stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door behind him. His eyes flickered to the framed picture on the desk before settling on Aaron.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Rossi stated, not even posing it as a question.

Aaron’s jaw tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rossi scoffed, dropping into the chair across from him. “Please. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know when someone’s got something—or someone—on their mind.” He nodded toward the picture. “And you? You’ve been staring at that damn thing for the past twenty minutes.”

Aaron glanced at the photo again, feeling a tightness in his chest.

“I wasn’t—” He started to deny it, but Rossi’s knowing look stopped him.

“You miss her.”

It wasn’t a question.

Aaron inhaled deeply, pressing his lips together before finally exhaling. “…Yeah.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I do.”

Rossi leaned forward slightly. “Then what the hell are you still doing here?”

Aaron frowned. “What?”

Rossi sighed, shaking his head. “Hotch, you’re one of the smartest men I know, but when it comes to your own feelings, you are clueless.” He pointed at him. “She left, and you let her go. But if you think she’s just gone from your life, then you’re fooling yourself.”

Aaron looked away, running a hand through his hair. “She moved on. She’s in New York, she has her own life now. I can’t just show up and—”

Rossi interrupted. “Why not?”

Aaron looked back at him.

Rossi’s expression softened slightly. “Tell me something. If you called her right now—if you told her you wanted to see her—do you really think she’d say no?”

Aaron opened his mouth, then closed it.

Because the truth was—he didn’t know.

He had spent so long convincing himself that he had no right to ask for more, that he had never even considered the possibility that you might have been waiting for him to say something.

Rossi sighed again. “Look, kid. Life doesn’t wait for you to figure things out. It moves on, whether you’re ready or not. And if you sit here for another two years convincing yourself you missed your chance, you’re going to wake up one day and realize that she really is gone.”

Aaron swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the thought.

“She’s still out there, Hotch,” Rossi said, his voice quieter now. “And something tells me she hasn’t stopped thinking about you either.”

Aaron’s fingers tightened around the frame in his hands.

“Go to her,” Rossi said simply. “Before it’s too late.”

For a long moment, Aaron didn’t say anything.

Rossi didn’t push. He just stood up, clapped Aaron on the shoulder, and left the office.

Aaron remained still, staring down at the picture again.

Go to her.

Before it’s too late.

The words echoed in his mind long after Rossi was gone.

And for the first time in nearly two years, Aaron wondered if maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance.

𐙚

The streets of New York were loud, alive with their usual rhythm—cars honking, people moving past each other in hurried steps, conversations blending into the background hum of the city. But Aaron barely noticed any of it.

His heart was pounding, his palms slightly clammy despite the cold air.

He had spent the entire flight convincing himself he was making a mistake. That he had no right to do this. That you had probably moved on, that maybe you had someone else now, that showing up like this was selfish.

But then, he had thought about what Rossi had said.

Before it’s too late.

And now he was standing in front of your coffee shop, staring through the large glass windows, his breath fogging slightly against the cold air.

There you were.

Moving behind the counter, your face lit up in a laugh as you spoke to a customer. You looked happy. Comfortable. Like you belonged here.

For a moment, he thought about walking away.

But then, as if sensing him, you turned toward the window.

And your eyes met his.

Your laughter faded, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

Aaron felt frozen in place, his breath caught in his chest as he saw the realization dawn in your expression.

Then, slowly, you stepped out from behind the counter and made your way toward the door.

The bell above the entrance chimed softly as you pushed it open, stepping outside onto the sidewalk, arms wrapped around yourself against the cold.

“Aaron?” Your voice was breathless, as if you couldn’t quite believe he was standing in front of you.

He swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, the city moving around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked softly.

Aaron took a shaky breath. “I needed to see you.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “After almost two years?”

“I know,” he admitted. “I know it’s been too long. And I should have come sooner. I should have said something sooner.” His throat tightened as he looked at you. “But I was afraid.”

You exhaled softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Afraid of what?”

His lips pressed together for a moment before he met your gaze again. “Afraid of losing you. Afraid that if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin everything.”

You stared at him, your breath catching. “Aaron…”

But he kept going, his voice raw, unguarded in a way he had never allowed himself to be before.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “Not after you left. Not after any of it. I tried. I told myself I had to let you go. That you had your own life now, and I had mine. But every time I thought I had moved on, I’d hear your voice in my head. I’d see something that reminded me of you, or Jack would ask about you, and it was like—” He let out a shaky breath. “It was like I was still reaching for something that was already gone.”

You swallowed, your eyes shining as you listened.

Aaron took a step closer, his voice lower now. “And then Rossi—he told me I needed to stop running from it. That I needed to come here before it was too late.” He exhaled, his eyes searching yours. “And he was right.”

You blinked up at him, your breath shallow.

Aaron hesitated for only a second before he took your hands in his, his grip warm, grounding.

“I love you,” he said, the words breaking free like a confession he had held back for too many years. “I’ve loved you for longer than I ever admitted to myself. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

For so long, you had wanted to hear those words. You had dreamed about this moment, imagined it in so many different ways. But now, standing here, with the weight of his confession settling between you, you realized something—

You had never imagined this.

The way his voice trembled with emotion. The way his eyes looked at you, full of something deep and unshakable. The way the city buzzed around you, but it felt like there was no one else in the world.

You felt tears welling in your eyes as you exhaled a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving. “You really came all this way… just to tell me that?”

Aaron smiled, just barely, but his voice was still raw with honesty. “Yeah. I did.”

Your lips parted slightly, your chest tightening with so much emotion you could barely breathe.

And then—

You didn’t think. You just moved.

You reached up, grabbing the collar of his coat, and pulled him down to you.

Aaron barely had time to react before your lips were on his, soft but urgent, years of unspoken words and unsaid feelings pouring into the kiss.

He inhaled sharply, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, his body instinctively leaning into yours.

And then—

The memory hit.

The prom.

The slow song, the way your hands had rested on his shoulders, the warmth of his hands on your waist. The way the world had faded until it was just the two of you, swaying gently, the room spinning in a blur of lights.

And the kiss.

The way it had been tentative, hesitant, the taste of something new and terrifying. The way neither of you had spoken about it afterward, too afraid of what it might mean.

Now, years later, the kiss was no longer hesitant. It was deep, full, a promise of everything that had been left unsaid for too long.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, your forehead rested against his.

Aaron let out a soft, shaky laugh. “That was—”

“Long overdue?” you finished for him, smiling softly.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing against your jaw. “Yeah.”

You exhaled, your voice quieter now. “I waited for you, you know.”

Aaron’s throat tightened. “I know.” His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “And I’m so sorry I made you wait this long.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel the warmth of his touch, the way his breath mixed with yours in the cold air.

Then you looked at him again, your voice steady, certain.

“You’re here now.”

Aaron nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “I am.”

And this time, there was no doubt.

No hesitation.

No going back.

Just the two of you, standing in the middle of a busy New York street, finally getting it right.

Finally finding your way back to each other.

---

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x y/n #angst #angst with a happy ending #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotch hotchner #friends to lovers #childhood friends

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mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

Text

Mattheo Riddle headcanons

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: what is it like dating Mattheo

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, no mention of y/n, you can be in any house, spicy content under the warning

Author’s note: For all my Bucky fanfic readers, I'm sorry that I haven’t posted in almost a month. This December is just too overwhelming, and every time I tried to finish my fic, it felt like I was wasting my time. I literally just miss the ending, and I hope to finish it as soon as possible.

For my possible new followers and/or HP stans, Mattheo is my current obsession, and I’m literally head over heels for him. And you know what they say: if you can’t find a fanfic that you like, write it yourself. So yeah, I'm trying something new, and I have a few ideas that are poisoning my head every single minute lmao.

sorry if there are any mistakes. hope you’ll like it💘🎀

Mattheo was never that much of a playboy because he didn’t like to share his space and, well, communicate with people in general

Due to his family, he was really reserved and refused to be weak

You weren’t that popular in school, so he had never really noticed you but one day, you suddenly started hanging out with Pansy and he could not get you out of his head anymore

He hated it

He hated that you occupied all of his thoughts for at least a few weeks

Tried to ignore his feelings for you as long as possible, but from the moment you two had to work together on the project, everything went downhill

He was scared to ask you out, not ready to be rejected by the only person he genuinely liked and thinking that maybe you secretly hated him like everyone else

At the beginning of the relationship, Mattheo told you that sometimes he might get cold and distant, but it wasn’t your fault and that you should just give him some time

Mattheo is romantic and for his favorite girl, he always arranged the best dates

He was nervous to kiss you after the first date when he walked you to your dorm

Little did he know, but that sexy smirk and the way he looked at you all night drove you insane

So you just pulled him by the tie, connecting your lips

Since then, Mattheo has been addicted to you

Hands are always on you, holding your hand, your waist or your thighs

Looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars

He kisses you in front of everyone to make sure that they know that you are his, and he is yours

Likes to pull into into his lap while he’s talking with his friends in the common room

Holding you close, slowly strokes your arms or your back, unable to keep his hands away from you

Whispers sweet nothings

Loves your smell and always buries his nose into your hair

He wears rings and allows you to steal them

His hoodies and t-shirts too

Secretly likes to be little spoon or lay on your chest while your hands are playing with his curls

Buys you everything you might possibly like, even though you always tell him to stop spending his money on you

Likes to study with you because you can actually get ready for the lessons while he has another opportunity to stare at you

So overprotective and always snaps back at people who, even in the slightest way, disrespect you

He never lets you go to the parties alone in case some creepy guys decide to hit on you

Possesive

When you’re wearing revealing clothes, one part of him is proud and wants to brag that his girlfriend is the sexiest woman on the planet, but the other part wants to cover you with big blanket and keep you to himself

Always sarcastic and sassy

Fights a lot

He had never gone to the medical wing because he wasn’t used to asking for help, but since you started dating, he let you heal his wound

Loves when you scold him for those fights, just because you look so cute when you’re angry and he has an excuse to kiss and spoil you

He has anger issues, but he has never raised his voice at you

Actually, you are like a sedative to him because only you can calm him down in a matter of seconds

Will never make you feel uncomfortable or insecure

You don’t like something or someone? Mattheo will make sure to get you out of the room and won’t let that person come near you ever again

The way you call him “Matty” turns him into a literal puddle

Can’t sleep without you in his arms

spicy

During your first time, he was super attentive and always checked whether you were okay or not

Praises. A lot of fucking praises

“You’re taking me so good, my love”, “you look so pretty when you cum around me.”

He likes every position, but prefers when he can see your face

There is literally not a single place in his dorm where you two haven’t had sex

Gets turned on literally by everything you do

He’s risky. As soon as he finds out that you actually liked it, he always teases you under the table, pulls you into the storage rooms, and talks dirty while there are a lot of people around

Got you two in detention a few times for getting caught kissing at night by Snape (you were lucky that he caught you before Mattheo’s hands slipped under your skirt)

His personal favorite is sex in the astronomy tower. The way you’re trying to hold back your moans drives him crazy

Also bathtub in the prefects’ bathroom, where you love to sit with him deep inside of you

He usually dominates, but sometimes likes to let you be in charge and see how you ride him

He has a big appetite, and what is the best way to deal with it? Right, you.

Mattheo would’ve spent hours in between your legs if you allowed him

He never asks for anything in return, but still seeing you on your knees for him is a fucking miracle

Your hair are around his hand, while you’re taking as much of him in your mouth as you can

Eye contact

He’s willing to try in bed anything that you want, except things that might get you hurt

He likes to keep his hand on your neck while he’s thrusting into you but never actually squeezes

Can be rough and fast or really gentle and slow, depending on the mood

After someone pisses him off or if you had a small fight, he always fucks you into the bed with your hands pinned above you until you’re literally crying from pleasure

By the way, when you don’t have time to put a spell on the room, it gives him satisfaction to know that everyone hears the way you moan for him

He always makes sure that you came, and if you didn’t, he’s more than happy to go down on you

Love confessions

Aftercare is a must

Hugs, kisses, food, baths—anything you might want

He always keeps you close until you fall asleep and then just stares at you, wondering how he could be so happy to have you

#slytherin boys #harry potter fanfiction #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fanfic

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gladiatorcunt · 5 months ago

Text

- GUESS | XIII.

you wanna guess the color of my underwear, you wanna know what i got going on down there

cw: kinktober prompt (ass worship), yoga trainer!oikawa, fem reader, rimming, body hair, scent & piss mentions, light implied yandere, public sex (?), hinted possibly one sided iwazumi x reader, light dub con, mentions of fisting, implied that oikawa’s been into reader from the start, semi obsessive behavior, porno plot, self degradation, food play mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Mmh, just like that cutie, lift those hips up for me.”

You’ve been coming to the new yoga class that just opened up at the gym for a while now, a couple months a few times a week, you’re a bit of a homebody otherwise and yoga is the one physical exercise you don’t mind doing often. You like being flexible, able to bend your body in shapes and ways another person would have a harder time doing. And you’re not having sex, so any physically strenuous activity that leaves you sore until you’re put back together by your healing body does wonders for you.

Plus you like the way the leggings hug your well endowed assets, so do a lot of the men in the gym. You wear the form fitting workout clothes for yourself first and foremost, but you can’t lie that a little attention from afar (sometimes too close up by one of the trainer’s usually steps in to help you) boosts your ego. If there’s one thing in life you have to be proud of, at least you have your ass. Squishy and round, jiggles when you walk and never disappoints you unlike everything else in your life.

The same ass that’s raised high in the air in front of your yoga trainer, a more than handsome man in his late 20’s with wavy milk chocolate colored brown hair and a smug twinkle in his eye that’s connected to his smarmy always on his face (even when he seems pissed) grin. You’ll never forget the confidence in his posture, standing tall at the front of the class and introducing himself. Tooru Oikawa, just moved here from japan, his best friend owns the place so it wasn’t too much trouble to get hired, and SO excited to start this journey with you all!

You’ve stayed at the back since then, anxiety swirling in your belly when he’d make the rounds to correct your forms and check on you all. But he’d only pass by with a brisk touch to your back and a ‘good job’, maybe a semi solid pat if you were one of only ones who had a good form, and not to brag, but that’s been the case on more than one occasion.

Now you’re undergoing a little one on one session, he asked you to hang back, noticing you’ve been holding yourself back. You’ve never made much of an effort to talk to him and despite the fact that you’ve never needed this kind of focused attention, he’s been feeling a bit bad that you keep to yourself so much. He doesn’t bite you know, not unless you want him too.

It’s an odd flirtation, something you’ve noticed he never does with anyone else in the class. Oikawa’s attractive enough that you’d balk at him abusing his privilege to drown himself in quickies in the gym’s showers, as off putting as it’d be. But he’s very professional, chuckling at one of the older women making a pass at him and politely turning her down.

So you got in your own head and knew that since there was always room for improvement, surely there must be something he could help you with. So here you are, going through basic poses first before he pushes you into the more advanced ones. You told him that other than increasing your flexibility, you weren’t really sure what other areas would be best for you to get better at.

Oikawa smiled and squeezed your shoulder, no worries, he’ll walk you through a little assesment mini program. Since you mentioned not having done yoga seriously until now, there could easily be something you didn’t even realize needed to be attended to!

“Remember, we want to really feel that stretch, arch your back and lower your head. Breathe in, breathe out.” He instructs, settling a wide palm on your lower back. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’s so close, if you backed up to regain your footing your ass would press up against his bulge. Not that you can tell if he has one right now, but you’re kind of hoping he does. It’s just another part of the fantasy, that’s all this is, you tell yourself. You’re going to soak up the attention, make more small talk as you gather your things and leave, and sit at home suffocating your vibrator until your legs turn into jelly.

“Am I doing this right? My legs feel stiff.” You shift your weight from side to side, your hips gently sway, you could be too in your own head but having Oikawa’s pretty eyes scrutinizing every detail of your body is fucking with your confidence.

He hums, a trail of heat sizzles down your back as he slides his palm down to cup your hip. “If something seems off then it probably is, just widen your stance and put your feet further apart, loosen up your hips. You’re definitely a little tense, cutie.”

Okay so he’s definitely flirting with you, but you don’t startle and shoot back up so you can get out of here. Instead you internally cringe at the squeaks your yoga mat produces, adjusting your ankles to line up more with your shoulders. You keep breathing, in and out, letting your energy flow through your limbs as you maneuver them into the different positions.

Oikawa Tooru burns like a furnace in hell, you realize. Despite having a firm grip on your hip, he’s standing a respectable distance away from you as you bend over. You can still feel the heat radiating from him, his sleeveless muscle tank and his black shorts.

“I think that’s better. Sorry, it's hard for me to relax, I guess.”

“No worries, I totally get it, you do seem like the type to be wound up but that just means we get to unspool your thread and unravel you so we can get to the start and rebuild.” His free hand curls around your other hip, his thumbs absentmindedly stroke the crease where they disappear into your thigh.

This private coaching session is steadily becoming what you’re afraid of, and so horny for you could shoot off into the sky like a soda bottle chocked full of mentos. You didn’t notice when Oikawa got even closer, his blunt hip bones cradling your ass in between them. Could he just be weirdly, and grossly in most people’s eyes, friendly? Does he even see what he’s doing as being the tentative first step into fucking you in a public gym yoga studio?

“Um, yeah, thank you by the way. I’ve felt so much better since I’ve started taking your class, you’re a lifesaver even if I still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh, we all do, including me, believe it or not. I remember you from back then you know, so shy and fidgety, like a baby bunny.”

“You’ve really filled out too. Excuse me for saying this but I know this ass wasn’t always like this, so pretty and plump.” Toned hands drag over the swell of your cheeks, not digging in and kneading the globes, only ghosting their touch along the clothed flesh.

You subconsciously wiggle your hips, Oikawa’s breath hitches behind you, and that is perhaps the most monumental thing you could have achieved today. Flustering the man who gets hit on a billion times per day and gives it back tenfold, a competition of who can keep their cool, that’s how he operates in most things you guess. Like he’s always competing against somebody even if they don’t know, and he just has to win or it’ll be an ugly spot on his record. A record only he keeps and only he sees, but you sense that that’s more important to him than anything else.

“Oh, thank you. I just do a lot of squats every morning and every night after class, nothing crazy. Yoga’s the only other kind of workout I do consistently, anyway.” You're still in what feels like a perverted version of downward dog, briefly taking stock of the strain in your legs now trying to hold the position.

Oikawa makes a surprised sound, “Really? You have such a great body, I’m shocked you’re not a gym rat like me and all my buddies. Some people are just lucky, huh cutie?”

He says it, humble and charming, like he doesn’t also consider himself one of those people. Your cheeks heat up at the idea of a musclehead like Oikawa complimenting your curves, your chubby gathering of fat even in places some people would find ugly, your wideset bones and plush tummy.

A pin drops, “Alright. I think you’ve been in that position long enough, why don’t you go ahead and lower your knees into the table top pose, bring your head up slowly and remember to breathe. In, out, good girl.”

His hands guide your hips down, he steps back to let you settle your knees on the mat. You hear the foam sink behind you, he’s sort of kneeling too, halfway sitting on his legs, the backs of his feet facing the ceiling. Oikawa looms over you like this too, he has a presence you can be lost in before you actually see him, which you definitely can in the wall to wall mirror in front of you. The yoga class was a dance studio before Iwa decided it didn’t fit with his vision, you remember Oikawa telling you all on his first day.

He must feel your wide eyed stare, because he looks up too and suddenly you’re locked in a charged moment.

Neither of you says anything as his feather light touches on your ass become firmer, he’s outright groping you and pulling you back to be flush against his crotch.

He grinds his half hard bulge against you, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to notice me, cutie. Been wanting to do this for so long, you have no fucking idea.” He huffs, adjusting his clothed cock to rest between your cheeks. “You’re so hot, every time I saw you bend over I wanted to cancel class and take you right then and there.”

You gasp and rock back into him, shaking your hips and digging your knees into the mat. You have half a mind to look around the room for the camera and porn filming crew but reality is clearly stranger than fiction, your hot yoga trainer’s stiff cock is sandwiched in your ass crack.

He takes his sweet time dragging his length up and down, the tip catches in the divot of your leggings where your hole is, you’re a little disappointed that he’s not humping you like a rutting dog but you suspect that that’s part of the fun. Oikawa knows you want him so bad that he’ll restrain his urge to fuck you through the floor all the way to the center of the Earth just so you can endure some teasing. You’re so shy and withdrawn but those girls are usually the best kinds of freaks, all he’s doing is bringing it out of you, call it another one of his famous coaching methods.

The door’s locked, so if Iwazumi catches on to what’s happening and tries to rain on your parade, he’ll have to listen to a symphony of moans and slick sounds of bare sweaty flesh slapping against bare sweaty flesh. Oikawa laughs and tells you that Iwa’s been eyeing you too, when you check in at the front desk, when you’re getting water, when you head into the changing rooms to get ready for his class, it’d be helplessly cute if you weren’t already taken. Or, you’re gonna be, at the very least.

“When we’re done, I'll clean you up with my tongue and we can go on a little date. I can take you out properly this weekend but I'd hate for you to think that I was just trying to hit and quit it. I’m not the type to pump and dump, not anymore.” He speaks into the divide of your ass cheeks, having sunk to floor fully and doing some bending over of his own to be at eye level with your lower half.

You bite your lip when he starts nipping at you through your leggings, he smiles into the fabric and bites down harder, soothing the sting with slow licks. Oikawa kisses all over the swell of your behind, sniffing the scent of your perspiration and your body oil in between, medicinal vanilla and natural musk. You can see him hump the mint green yoga mat as he reaches up to hurriedly tug your leggings down enough to expose your ass. Your black thong frames it perfectly, but Oikawa pulls them off too and stuffs them under the waistband of his shorts.

He groans at the sight of your bare skin as it bounces free to say hello, taking a handful of each cheek and squeezing the life out of them, the thick flesh bulges between his fingers so he swiftly smacks each one, for tempting him and making his cock so hard it could explode into a blood filled mess of cum and sticky pubes in his pants. You cry out, rocking forward only to be immediately pulled back so he can keep kissing your ass.

He dotes on it like he would your face or mouth, almost giggling before and after quick pecks that develop into long slurps at your rim. He runs the tip of his nose over the hair on your crack, wetting it in messy swipes of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good, baby, better than pastry i’ve ever had, and believe me, you don’t even want to know how much money i spend at the bakery across the street from my apartment. You’d love it.” He moans, saying hello to your winking hole by dotting barely there kisses right in the center before toying with you, dipping the tiniest bit of his tongue in your walls, then dragging his saliva all over your pucker. “It’d be fun to eat something off you, we could make a date out of it. Go up to the counter and pick which ones would taste the best when I eat it off your fat ass, but I think they’d all be amazing, don’t you?”

You nod rapidly and throw your ass back on his tongue, burning in shame with every smug laugh and grunt as Oikawa beats around the bush so to speak, doing everything under the sun with your ass but properly eating it. You wish you were in your shitty apartment, sitting on his face and drowning out the sound of your arguing neighbors with your slutty moans. He looks up from behind you to check on how you’re doing, and thank heavens because he finally buries his face in your ass and slurps at your puckered hole.

You lose yourself to the experience, feeling his wet tongue fuck into your ass hole and carve out little pieces of you for himself. He pays zero attention to your pussy, which is why it’s so wet and dripping onto the mat beneath you, it’s like he’s too obsessed with your thick globes to even notice, but you don’t hate it. It’s hot to have a guy be eye socket deep in your ass but also have him neglect where you really need his attention, there’s a dichotomy between being the mousey way you’ve gone about your life and the whorish behavior this man is urging you to consider.

You looked fucked out already, hair all over the place from how much you’ve messed with it and lips dropping open on drawn out squeals and whines. Oikawa is eating your ass out like it’s his main job, the one he puts in overtime for and goes above and beyond to be employee of the month at. He thrusts his tongue a few more times before apparently deciding that’s not enough and slipping in one of his absurdly long fingers alongside it.

You whimper, clenching around both as you just sit there in that damn table top pose and let a man you barely know play your ass like a well oiled fiddle. He shakes your cheek in his hand as he digs his tongue into you, delicately fingering your hole until it goes slack enough for him to insert another. You’re impossibly tight, as much as your clit is howling for it you know perfectly well that any serious penetration isn’t possible. From the impressions you got, Oikawa’s packing enough to tear you until you bleed if you don’t use lube or prep thoroughly beforehand, which you’d do anyways but it’s a shame.

Your clit throbs painfully but Oikawa pulls back with a gulp of air to level you with a warning look in the mirror, which only gets you wetter, you twitch again because he’s one of those. There’s a brief flicker of defiance, you could pout and touch yourself anyway, you don’t owe this ridiculously attractive man anything and he’s the one motorboating your ass cheeks and not the other way around, so shouldn’t you be the one in charge?

Then his eyes darken, you get another sharp smack and you table the discussion for some far off occasion.

Oikawa smiles, gently kissing the apple shaped swell of both of your cheeks, “See, I know from your time here that you can be such a good listener, you’re so sweet for me, I know it. You can’t hide that from me just because you want to throw a fit, I said we’d get to know each other afterwards, didn’t I?”

You scoot your ass back in apology, silently begging him to get back to it. He must really be horny too because he dives straight back in, groaning into your rim and french kissing your hole. The hand not doing its best to push its entirety into you kneads your fleshy ass cheek, molding it like dough and separating it from its twin, giving him easier access to your pucker. He ‘tsks’ not even a second later, crooking his two fingers and letting go off your cheek, humming in contentment when it bounces against his face and he’s smothered again.

He wonders if you’ll let him fist you, give you a unique one of a kind rose to swoon over and keep tucked away inside you later, the perfect first date gift from your future boyfriend.

You can even do couples yoga in the morning after your first night together!

“Let’s see if you can cum just from getting your ass played with.” Punctuated by a fourth finger sliding into the knuckle in your ass, he scissors his fingers to stretch you out and playfully acts like he’s gonna sink his whole fist in, pulling out his fingers to curl them into a ball.

The barest hint of blunt pressure on your hole sends a flood of your juices down his arm, smelling somewhat pissy which gives Oikawa truly the most impish grin imaginable.

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