#late last night I just had to share these thoughts

[notquitecanon]

Search History // Poly!141 x Reader

A continuation of this thought

Summary: Reader (based loosely on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds) has to be face-to-face with the boys for the first time since they started including her in their late-night fantasies. They've decided it's time to take it off-screen and move in IRL.

I'm taggin the peeps who replied to the last part bc I'm desperate for attention lol (in all actuality y'all really encouraged me to actually write thank you!!)

CW: allusions to porn, allusions to female genitalia, they're all horny in the workplace, this is basically workplace harassment but we're excusing it because they're hot and fictional and I say so, no outright smut

Still nsfw though so MDNI pls and thanks

“The 141 just touched down. ETA twenty minutes.” 

Your eyes flicked up from the muted video on your monitor, cheeks flushed red but masked by the light radiating off your screen in your dark office. Thank God, your monitor faced away from the door. A young private was standing in the doorway with a tablet, looking at you for an acknowledgment, probably running about starting preparations for their arrival back on home base. 

“Thank you, private.” You murmured, teeth toying at your thumbnail, chipping the polish. The young soldier gave a short nod at the quiet dismissal and disappeared once again. Your eyes, with embarrassingly blown pupils, flicked back to the video. 

After your discovery two weeks ago, the sites and links you had to review furthered down the rabbit hole. And this video you were currently watching had been one that all the men had been visiting, and revisiting, and revisiting… 

By god, they’d done it. 

Similar build, skin tone only a shade or two different - you could probably share foundation and it wouldn’t look too bad. Hair and eye color so close it was uncanny. And when the woman looked over her shoulder at the mountain of a man hitting it from the back, the angle made the resemblance almost scarily uncanny.  The Had you had a porn career and simply forgotten?- kind of uncanny. 

Sure there were differences- she was a little taller, maybe a bit leaner, with boobs that had definitely had some work done. Tattoos where your skin was bare and vice versa, different piercings. Her voice was pitched different, and her accent was completely different from yours but within three minutes of the video she’d stopped speaking words, so accent didn’t matter much.  But as far as porn actresses went- she might as well be your twin. 

It seemed the 141 had perused her entire.. filmography. Different videos, different scenarios, different partners. They all had videos they seemed to like better than others. Soap seemed to particularly like the POV video where the man had a thick Scottish accent. Gaz had bookmarked a soft-core bondage and forced orgasm scene. Price, a shorter video of an unseen man pushing the actress under a desk for oral, and Ghost… the only link he’d visited was your instagram. It was hard not to let it stroke your ego a little bit. 

God, if you told anyone about this… They’d tell you to file a workplace harassment suit, and maybe a police report.  To start job hunting, and therapist hunting. Distance yourself. You should have been embarrassed or uncomfortable- you knew you should be. That you should feel objectified or disrespected, disgusted. 

But hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t send yourself the links and watched them in your free time at home. It was hot- turned you on in an almost concerning way that would set feminism back twenty years if you told anyone. 

The video kept playing on your monitor, one of the videos that Soap had visited more than once (little did you know it was one that Ghost had picked out). A gloved hand smoothly glided down the actress's spine before curving around her throat and pulling her upright on the man’s lap, filthy praises in a British accent playing through your single AirPod. 

“Holy shit…”  You muttered, thighs clenching because if you squinted it really did look like you, even some of her mannerisms. And the rough accent was like a mix of Ghost's and Price’s. 

Abruptly, you shut down the entire monitor completely, ripping out the AirPod and tossing it on the desk. Pressing slightly shaking hands to your too hot face. You needed to get it together, because Price was your boss and the others were your superiors. They’d been gone for a month and a half, and it’d been your voice in their ears guiding them through missions, and you knew you had a flirty disposition, especially from the private safety of your dark little office half way across the world. 

It made sense that their wires got a little crossed, but your wires- like those off all your monitors and hardware- needed to stay neatly organized and separate. Focus. Focus. 

Your nails were bitten to the quick, the bitter taste of old nail polish on the back of your tongue. The skin around your nails was raw from your teeth toying with it as your so intensely focussed on the videos. You needed to get out of this too small, too hot room.  Which is how you found yourself, twenty minutes later, in the communal break room fighting with the vending machine. It was withholding the ice cold water you were desperate for, despite your curses and attempts to jostle the machine. Right as you delivered a frustrated kick to the machine-

“Just the bird we were looking for!” 

It was Kyle’s voice first, that tipped you off to the herd of men entering the space. You almost jumped out of your skin- brain flitting through several scandalous snippets of the videos he’d replayed. His smile was dazzling as always as he came into view, tapping the yellow warning stickers that instructed people not to jostle the machine, with the little illustration of the stick man getting crushed, “What’d the machine ever do to you? It might start fighting back.” 

A gloved hand reached between the two of you, skeleton fingers curled into a fist that delivered a blunt strike, and, like magic, the water bottle fell in to the receptacle. You peeked over your shoulder at Ghost, standing just slightly too close and looking down at you intensely, but not meanly. An easy to miss bit of mirth that was usually reserved for Soap. Thank god you’d bitten your nails to stubs or they would’ve drawn blood from how they were digging into your palms to distract you from the gloved hands and the brutish display of strength. 

Kyle put the drink sweetly in your hands after cracking it for you, like he would do when bringing Ghost or Price something, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t.  Another hand, warm and large clapped gently on your shoulder, pulling you back a step, almost directly into Captain Price’s chest. 

The men shared a look over your head before focussing back on you. 

“Your intel was good.” It was a simple statement, but delivered in a warm, proud tone that felt so much like praise that your stomach flipped a bit, with that warm smile that made him look soft despite the fact he was still in full tac-gear, “They didn’t even see us coming.” 

“They never see you coming, that’s kind of your whole thing.” You tried a joke, your voice a touch strained. His hand was lingering, right on the curve where your shoulder became your neck, fingers flexing into the flesh just so. Just like it did on the boys when he thought others wouldn’t noticed. focus, focus, focus. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Soap that interrupted the kneading of Price’s fingers. 

“Don’t be so modest, bonnie!” He was laughing as large arms caught you around the waist, lifting and spinning you slightly. His voice so similar to that one Scottish co-star that had done such filthy things to your lookalike, it made your head spin.  Despite your startled yelp and squirming, his grip didn’t waver, “Couldn’t of done it without our lass in the chair.” 

“ ’nough, Johnny,” Ghost called firmly, leaning against the vending machine that they’d all but cornered you against, “Put ‘er down.” 

Soap’s laugh was still good natured as he set you on your feet again, a little roughly for the heels you had on to match your skirt, you wobbled only for Ghost himself to steady you, giving you another intense look, that you had trouble meeting, “ 'e’s right though. Intel was good.” 

They were all staring at you, varying degrees of smirks, eyes a spectrum of mischief and something that was dizzyingly close to hunger.  Unable to keep still, you were squirming, shifting your weigh from foot to foot, fiddling with the wrapper on the bottle. You found your eyes flitting around settling anywhere but their own gaze, cheeks feeling hot, mind full of vile images that you knew they’d seen and enjoyed- ceiling, the exit sign, Johnny’s tac-vest, the floor, the water bottle in your hands. You gulped, eyebrows raising as you puffed a breath, trying desperately to reign yourself in.

“Glad to be of service.” You smiled tightly, nodding meeting each set of eyes briefly and hoping your foundation masked your blush (it didn’t). Jesus Christ, you couldn’t do this.  You couldn’t tell if you felt turned on or awkward or both, but you needed to go. Preferably before you did something that would cost you your job. Your voice was rushed as you squeezed between Gaz and Price, double timing it to the exit, “Enjoy your leave, boys, you deserve it.” 

As you all but fled the building, you typed out a mass base-wide memo email, language formal as you professionally reminded every soldier, specifically four of them, that any website visited by government devices was subject to internal review. 

You swore you could hear them laughing as the memo went out. But maybe that was just your overactive imagination. 

____

You’d gone home for the evening, and then clocked back in the following morning. Surprised to find all of the 141 was still there, debriefing must have ran long. 

“Morning, love.” It was Kyle that greeted you, pressing a cup of coffee into your hands. He looked tired but happy to see you. Soap was with him, eyes bright and grin wide as he whistled lowly, fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt as you passed his seat. 

“Looking good, bonnie,” He smiled devilishly, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before letting go, “Tired of all the green, black, and beige tac gear. Missed seeing something a little… softer.”  

You somewhat doubted that. He seemed to appreciate military khaki when it hugged Gaz’s ass, and he sure didn’t seem to mind an all black tactical ensemble when it was on Ghost. But the compliment still brought heat up your neck, which you coupled with a sip of the hot coffee Gaz had brought you- fixed perfectly the way you liked it. It elicited a pleased sigh as you swallowed, humming in content. 

“Price wants to see you before we all leave. Brought you some new stuff to work on.” Kyle smiled, watching how your expression softened at the taste of the beverage, clearly proud of himself for drawing out that reaction.   

“A present? For me?” You smiled sarcastically back at the prospect of more work added to you caseload, “It’s like Christmas.” 

“You been good this year?” Kyle grinned back, accompanied by Soap chiming, voice low and chiding, “Nah, she’s definitely been naughty.” 

Both Sergeant’s shared a look as you almost choked on another sip of coffee. 

“I’m leaving now.” You shook your head, turning on your heel away from where they were hanging around the rec room, clearly waiting for Price to dismiss them, “Y’all should shower. Or take a nap.” 

“You want us naked?” Kyle questioned, raising his eyebrows at you, leaning back against the wall, standing so very close to Soap, who was sprawled out in his chair, long legs splayed and spread before him as he waggled his eyebrows. “And in bed?” 

Now that was some imagery. Taking the lord’s name in vain you didn’t dignify that with a response other than a huffed, “Leaving now.” 

____

The good thing about Price and Ghost was they were business first. So if you really focussed you could almost ignore Ghost's thigh pressed against yours as you sat beside him in the dark room, reviewing body cam footage. They pointed out different things to you, things to include as you started your next dark web deep dive. 

You could almost ignore how Price’s fingers grazed and lingered on your palm as he gave you a thumb drive to decrypt and analyze, how he stood close enough to you that you had to look at him through your lashes. 

“Has a self destruct program that Gaz didn’t want t' aggravate. Figured it needed your... soft touch.” Price smiled down at you as you curled your fingers around the thumb drive. You had to try pretty hard to ignore the slight emphasis on soft. Ghost seemed to chuckle lowly at your expression at the captain. 

“What’s on there'll point us in the next direction of our next target.” Ghost nodded to you, his leg shifting so it pressed harder against yours. In the guise of stretching out, he’d draped an arm over the back of your chair, the cotton of his gloves half tickling the sensitive skin on the back of your bicep, where the flesh was soft. 

“So don’t screw it up, got it.” You swallowed thickly, shifting so you couldn’t feel his thumb against your skin- it was making it hard to think about hacking and terrorism and military operations.  He took it as an invitation to spread out more, his fingers grazing the exact spot only seconds later. 

“Precisely,” John laughed lowly, his hand moved to your shoulder, back into that sweet curve that was partly your shoulder and partly your neck, and gave it a lingering squeeze, that kind of made you want to melt, “You won’t screw it up, love.” 

The captain gave his Lieutenant a nod, and Ghost quickly stood, his boot giving the toe of your pretty heels a slight nudge as a goodbye before silently stalking out. Price took a seat across from you, leaning back and his arms cross comfortably over his chest.

“I’m having the boys over at mine tonight. A couple of drinks, I’m gonna grill, put the footie on, celebrate another successful mission to start our leave.” Price listed out their plans casually, noting how you squirmed a bit, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you tugged at the hem of your skirt before continuing, “We want you to come. Couldn’t have done it without you, so you should celebrate it too.” 

“Oh, uh-“ You started before you could think of a good excuse, “I’ll be really busy… with.. with the flash drive. And stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Price rose a single brow, his stare pinning you still as he reached across the table and took the flash drive back, “This can wait.” 

“Files. Coding. Security checks.” You mumbled the first couple aspects of your job that came to mind, the intensity of his gaze making you want to adjust your collar or shrink in your seat. You figured you’d have a couple more sites to clear off their devices, if they’d been sitting around base all night. Your cheeks heated just at the thought. “I’m a little behind. Been… distracted lately."

“Everything all right, love?” He ‘asked’ with at signature warm smile and amused eyes, he seemed to already know the answer to his question, “You’ve been… skittish, since we got back.” 

Your teeth worried the seam of your lips as you considered the question. Skittish, was one way to put it- fidgety, fleeing rooms, avoiding eye contact, barely speaking as opposed to your usual chatter and banter. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze again, swallowing dryly again- geez when did you get so shy, “ ‘m fine. Absolutely fine. Never been better. How’re you?” 

Cringing at your own rambling, you sighed shoulders drooping as he fixed you with another look, and muttered your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that expected obedience, as his legs shifted into a natural man spread. Your brain flitted back to the video of your look alike being shoved under a desk… 

Him saying your name again, slightly louder but just as bemused drew you back to him, realizing you were staring at his legs, debating if you could fit between his knees and you almost sputtered as you cleared your throat, “I’m fine, really.” 

“Either lie more convincingly or tell me what’s bothering you, sweet.”  Price chuckled, leaving forward against the table, drumming a knuckle against the table. Sweet, that was new. You’d have to add it to the laundry list of nicknames and pet names the boys had for you. You’d always told yourself that it was nothing personal, that British/Scottish people just did that. But this on wasn’t as easy to write off as ‘love’ or ‘bonnie’, average pet names in the UK colloquial, no sweet seemed personal. 

“I’m not bothered.” You glanced away again, nose wrinkling, even though you were bothered- hot and bothered. John Price had a way of drawing details out of people with just a look and a couple of well prodded words.  With a deep breath, you tried to keep your characteristic rambling to a minimum, a losing battle as he starting stroking at his beard with those long fingers- two parts of him that you’d been thinking about way too much lately-, “Listen, I’m not judging, you’re grown men, watch what you want to, but just a reminder that it’s my job and obligation to review every link and site that government devices visit. Which includes at least skimming videos.  In case you didn’t know or maybe forgot that I can and do see these things, so maybe you could pass that along to the boys-“ 

“You can tell 'em yourself. ’s your job, sweet.” Price said firmly. The girlish part of your brain corrected ‘firmly’ to dominantly. Before his demeanor relaxed again, giving you an amused, appraising look again, “At my place. Tonight. 8 o’clock. Not a request.” Shrinking in your chair a bit, hoping the chair hid the way your thighs involuntarily clenched, you couldn’t help but nod and squeak, “Yes, sir.” 

___

Was supposed to have actually smut in this but I got carried away on the build-up, laugh out loud. Maybe a part three or you can just imagine how the little dinner party goes (hint, she's the meal)

Tags: @fruitymoonbeams-blog @viviennevianna @savas-q1 @cringeycookies @lainey-laines @buttercup337 @acosmisted @carqueensworld @tmartin0918 @dreamland08 @sheepdogchick @hidden-wildflowers @lilynotdilly @astrxsee @joopyjup @originalsoulcollector @henhouse-horrors @ohdrey89 @red5tars @cod-z @balletbiscuit @spacecrawllerr @scrumptioussportstoadgarden-blog @blues-of-neptune @monster-effer @yunho-leeknow @ungodlydilf @pluviofleur @jandthecrow @fangtoothgod @coquetterie-dancer @sapphires-and-silver-things @ghost-is-my-bbg @loveergirll @silly-starfish @popkle @honestlymassivetrash @not-mentally-sane @devoetee @beloveds-embrace @jellyamour @simon141price @divinecat

[gravegoer]

ok ok hiiiii hope your doing well! Um this may be odd, but, imagine an au where fem reader sleeps in the same bed as best friend sevika but place a few pillows between each other because fem reader believes she's not into girls despite her best friend being an absolute hottie 😞

My Best Friend ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

this is ALSO one of my fav tropes, so thank you for this.. and yes I'm doing well ty summary: sevika could treat u better than he can !!! never let a man stop you from finding your wife. thats the moral for tday.

masterlist , upcoming: "First time" and "Safeword" wink

Sevika has been your best friend for a few years (although she would never admit it) and shes seen you through your best and worst.

After breakups with shitty men, she knows to find you at the last drop, laughing at your drunken state before dragging you home.

This was one of those nights.

She had you slung over her shoulder while she keyed the lock on her door, grunting at your head that lulled on her shoulder, "Are we home..?"

Sevika nodded, dragging you through the doorway and sitting you on the couch gently. She grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water for you. Her heavy shoes thudded on the wooden floor as she made her way back to you.

Sitting beside you, she held your chin, pouring water into your mouth, "I don't like seeing you with those blunder-heads."

You gulped down the cold water greedly, attempting to soothe the dryness in your throat. You held her by the wrist to steady her hand.

Sevika scoffed, and you knew she was referring to your exes. You giggled at her seriousness, "I don't think I like being with them."

You felt the pressure lift from your head, feeling more sober. Clinging to Sevikas arm, you sighed, looking up at her. "You're lucky you dont have to deal with boyfriends."

Her features twisted, contorting into a sour look, "You don't have to either."

"Hm?" You hummed, mindlessly tracing the rim of your glass.

"I mean, you could always try women."

You laughed and said teasingly, "Like at the brothel?"

Her eyes widened, and her brows furrowed, lips almost pulled into a pout, "No, no, like a girlfriend."

"What? Are you volunteering?" You smacked her on the arm and laid back further into the couch.

She smirked, Sevika’s cocky demeanor returning to her, "I wouldn't mind teaching you a few things."

You made a fake sound of disgust but laughed afterward. Although you couldn't deny she was beautiful, her thick arm was warm in your hold, and the angles of her face softened when you spoke.

Sevika treated you like no man ever had before. She was sweet in her own way, ans actually listened to what you had to say. You know she would never do anything to hurt you, and infact she was the one that picked you up after you got hurt.

You had never been interested in women, but Sevika definitely piqued your interest. Maybe it was all the memories you shared or the way she treated you. But maybe it was the way her V line connected to the waistband of her pants, emphazised by the warm light, the way her hair stuck to her sharp jaw that clenched under your gaze.

She interrupted your thoughts, "It's late, you should get to bed."

"Already? You aren't going to stay?"

She smirked again, revealing the flattering gao between her teeth, "All you have to do is ask, doll."

Heat rose to your face at the nickname. Maybe it was just the alcohol in your system, but it was starting to get hotter. You bit your lip, looking up at her through your lashes, "Please stay Sevika, I'll even make you breakfast before you leave in the morning."

That was music to her ears. At that, she stood up, grabbing your waist to take you with her. Eventually, she got tired of your stumbling and slowness and picked you up, arm under your legs, and prosthetic on your upperback.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck, throwing your head back dramatically. She shook her head at your playfulness while kicking open your door.

Sevika tossed you onto the bed as gently as possible, and your eyes widened at the suggestive position you were in. She loomed over you, shadowing your body. Your knees were slightly bent and legs spread, almost inviting her between.

You could imagine her crawling up to you, hands pushing your knees apart to draw your face into hers. Instead, she sat beside you, leaning against the headboard and lighting a cigar.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled the blankets over you and laid facing away from her. She snickered at your mood change and patted you on the shoulder, "I want pancakes."

You didn't respond, humming at the thought of food. For the next several minutes, you could hear her mindlessly flicking her zippo top open and closed, flame flicking on and off.

You imagined her thick fingers against the cool metal, fire illuminating her always-bruised knuckles. Then, you imagined her fingers on your waist, then in your hair—

You groaned, shoving your face in the pillow, attempting to drown out the thoughts. The sound of her zippo halted before a small tiss, was heard.

You could feel the weight shift behind you as she moved to lay down, resting a hand on your back. Shimmying away from her touch, you rolled over to face her.

Sevika's eyes opened, and you immediately missed the peaceful look on her face. Now her brow was cocked and her lips curled downward.

Her grey eyes bore into yours as you spoke, "Only my girlfriend should be touching me in bed like that."

You mocked her words from earlier, but without any harshness. Her lips drew into a tight line, "I get it. You aren't into women. Im not trying anything funny."

She didn't have to say it because you knew she wouldn't. But a part of you didn't quite mind if she did.

"Okay, then—"

You picked up a few pillows, placing them between your bodies. "There."

She deadpanned, "Are you serious?"

You snickered, not responding, before turning back to your original position. After a few seconds, you heard her sigh and lay back down, definitely facing you. Sevika reached over the barrier to tug the blanket further up your frame, shielding you from the cold.

She treated you better than any man had, and you both knew it. Maybe you'll finally do something about it over some drinks tomorrow.

i laaaaauuuvvvvvvv best friend sevika, idk if ill make a part 2 tho, i have some more fics coming out soon, some kind of suggestive?? and nsfw..????!! so follow for that, all cumming this week

comment to be added <333

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

004 》 KIM MINGYU …still

dinner with your family was always extra, just a hint to what thanksgiving with your full extended family would be. when your twin invites mingyu, does he sink or swim? …what about you?

wc 11.3k (i'm sorry) | smut minors dni, oral sex, facesitting, penetration, age gap

it was as if you never left in the first place– everyone sitting around the couch, vivi on the farthest corner, the only new addition being ace’s girlfriend. all eyes were on you as you walked in the door with a goofy smile on your face, you were floating once again, but this dance with gravity was different– it was entirely yours, and you planned to keep it that way. 

your feet brought you to your staircase on instinct, not muttering a single greeting to any of the six on the couch, you needed to shower, debrief your night with no one but yourself. in these moments a part of you wished that you had a girlfriend you could call, someone outside of your circle to share your night with, the details of mingyu. you didn’t want to hear the opinions of your boys, you couldn’t share it with your twin, your sister was far too young and too judgmental. you wanted someone to share your excitement with, someone who would be just as excited for you. you had no choice but to keep everything locked inside.

tears welled in your eyes as you undressed in your bathroom because you didn't have that person, maybe you wanted it more than you thought. you convinced yourself that the hot water coming from your shower head was the only liquid streaming down your cheeks, you told yourself you had no reason to be upset in the first place– mingyu was perfect, he would come to be your person, you were sure. you thought it was greedy to be anything other than completely elated—  the tears still flowed. 

in the shower your mind traveled, you didn’t think opening up to someone new would make you so emotional, it had been a long time since you’ve told anyone about your dad, everyone who knew about him knew everything– they were by your side through all of it. by the end of your shower your tears had stopped flowing, but as you pulled your tee shirt over your head, they returned with vengeance and for a completely different reason. 

you missed him. your eyes flew to your desk, the framed picture of you and your dad on your first day of sixth grade, he sat on the steps of the school with his arms wrapped around you. you remembered being so nervous to start middle school, crying before you even began getting ready that morning, your mom running frantically around the house to get you to school on time, packing your and ace’s lunches, making sure your backpacks had everything they needed. he usually left the house before you and ace had woken up, but he went into work late that day to see you off to school, always present no matter what. 

you could still hear his voice in your head– “middle school is just like elementary school, tiny, all of your same friends will be there, and you’ll even make more. if you get scared, ace will be right beside you the whole day.”

you could feel his hand on your head, a kiss on your forehead, “how about i take you to school? mommy will take vivi to kindergarten, i’ll take you and your brother. will that help?”

you remembered nodding, sniffing your snot back up your nose, hugging him with your tiny body with so much force it pushed him backward. he laughed, a deep, hearty chuckle with a rasp that could only be caused by the cigars he was always smoking. you wished you knew that was the last first day of school he’d witness, you would’ve hugged him a little harder, pushed him back with a little more force. 

“i miss him, too,” ripped out of your memory with your twin’s hand on your shoulder, you jumped out of your skin. his voice was quiet, like he was testing the waters, he didn’t know where your head was at. 

“you think he’d be proud of us?” you asked him after a pause, looking into eyes that mirrored your own, a face that still looked the same as it did the first day of sixth grade. ace smiled, a warm smile that was comforting as much as it was reassuring. 

“you kidding?” he looked at you as if that was the most stupid question you’ve ever asked, “his kids are in school to be a teacher and a lawyer, he’s bragging about us to every single person he can up there, you know him.”

you laughed through your tears, wiping your eyes. he always did brag about you growing up, he gave every single one of his friends full descriptions of your report cards. ace’s gaze changed, from comforting to protective, “is this actually about dad? you’re not upset because of your date, right?”

you shook your head, “i’m not even upset, i think dad would really like him. makes me wish he was here to meet him.”

“that’s how i feel about reia,” he smiles, sitting down on your bed, and you follow to the spot next to him, laying down flat on your back, silent tears falling past your cheeks to your comforter. ace twists to look at you, “he’s with us all the time, he watches everything.”

“i know,” you mumble, “i told mingyu about him, i didn’t know it’d make me feel like this.”

“wow,” his voice was breathy, his eyebrows raising, “you’re serious about him, then? you don’t talk to anyone about dad.”

he continues after he’s met with silence, you didn’t know how to answer. “you should bring him here this weekend, have him come for dinner on saturday. yeo, san and yunho’s families are coming, too.” 

you sit up on your elbows, “since when?”

“i think yesterday?” he tilts his head, “i don’t know, mom told me this morning. she said ‘family dinner on saturday’, you know what that means.”

your eyes feel swollen, a yawn passing through your lips, heavy and long as you lay flat on your back again. “i’ll see if he’s free.”

ace gets up, walking to your door, “you seem off lately, i hope you know you can talk to me.” 

you turn your head, it’s like he knew exactly what was going through your mind earlier. he leans against your doorframe, “i know i’m your brother and not a girlfriend, but i can feel when something’s going on with you. i’m always here if you need me.”

you nod, and he takes it as his leave, you can hear his footsteps leading back down the stairs to the living room. you crawl up your bed, pulling back your blankets to get comfortable beneath them, exhaustion hitting you like a truck. as much as you missed your dad, you could always find him in your brother, an extension of the man your dad was. you had everyone you needed around you.

you brought up dinner to mingyu the next morning when he called, and he agreed to come immediately— not a moment of hesitation. nerves coursed through you as soon as he said yes, knowing that come saturday, there was no more bubble. the thought crossed your mind that maybe things were moving a little too fast, maybe inviting him to meet your family was too soon, but if mingyu was quick to say yes then he felt the pace of your relationship was just fine. you pushed the thought from your mind. 

──────  ꨄ︎

nervous was an understatement for how you felt about mingyu coming over– you were in the bathroom once an hour, if not more, starting from noon. being almost five… you weren’t sure how you had anything left in you. you shouldn’t be this nervous, you were just with him last night at his place, you even discussed today in depth so you wouldn’t be nervous. 

you’ve never brought a guy around your family before and as much as you were confident in mingyu being the first, you were still scared of your family’s judgement– especially scared of how your friends would feel about him; but if you couldn’t get through your immediate family for a simple saturday night dinner, you’d never get through thanksgiving. you could do this, they would love him, just like he told you they would. 

your mother had catered, of course she did, only the five of you and the catering company in your house until your company would arrive. the smell of food consumed your house, the only time you smelled anything close to a home cooked meal was when someone paid for it and yet it still smelled nothing like the dinner mingyu cooked for you. your mother was dressed up, which you were sure the rest of the boys’ families would be as well, meaning matt and your siblings would be, too. family dinners were always… extra, in the best and worst way. you had to dress up like you were going to a restaurant just for the restaurant to be brought to you. 

ace was in deep blue jeans, a blue sweater that was somehow a darker blue than the jeans, a white collared shirt peeking out from underneath. his sweater hid his tattoos, a watch on his wrist, glasses on his face– he could see just fine, that was your mothers’ doing, for sure. 

vivi didn’t look much different than usual, you realized she looked like you– blue hair wrapped up in a clip, a short, black dress, cardigan with a pair of loafers, she looked both sixteen and not sixteen. you tilted your head as you stared at your family wandering about the kitchen, siblings stealing appetizers from plates carefully placed atop the kitchen island… it all looked so staged, it dawned on you that this was not a simple saturday family dinner at all. you couldn’t help but wonder what mingyu would think. 

you didn’t have to wonder for long as san’s family piled through your front door, mingyu following right behind them– prompt, just as you’d expected. as it usually does, seeing his face willed away all of your worries, his smile bringing forward the excitement you’d buried deep beneath the anxiety. he held a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine after you told him not to bring anything, your feet started moving before you willed them to.

“hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, pulling himself to the side of the crowd that he followed inside your foyer, canines showing in a wide smile before leaning down to press his lips to yours. dressed as if you’d sent him a dress code, he looked the same as the rest of you– a loose button down that had one side tucked into black slacks, a pair of sneakers on his feet that you just knew were expensive, a black jacket hung over his broad shoulders. you reached for the flowers and wine, which he quickly lifted far above your head, shaking his head. “these are for your mom, silly girl.”

your cheeks flushed, “what a gentleman, where’s my gift?” 

“you’re looking at it,” his smile was impossibly wider, maybe even mischievous as he stood tall again, shoulders wide as he scanned your foyer, taking it upon himself to walk inside. you called for your mom who was in the middle of kissing san’s mom on both cheeks in greeting. 

your mom’s eyes widened just enough for you to catch it before she hurried over to where you and mingyu stood, quickly reaching upward to hook her hands around mingyu’s neck. “mingyu! it’s so great to meet you, i’ve heard so many good things!” 

you almost roll your eyes– she’s heard close to nothing about mingyu. you wanted to save it for tonight, to let everyone meet mingyu and know him themselves before you gave out information. he offered her the flowers and the bottle of wine and she blushed– you wanted to crawl out of your skin, but a part of you was proud at the same time. 

“handsome, kind man– tiny, he’s a keeper,” she whispered to you in passing as she brought mingyu’s gifts towards the kitchen, handing them to one of the caterers who promptly followed her orders, despite it not being their job. 

mingyu followed as you greeted san’s family, pressing a kiss to his mom’s cheeks, a prompt hug to his dad before you finally reached san who wore the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen. his voice was hushed as he said, “i understand why you’re keeping him to yourself.” 

your smile swiftly changed into a smirk, “tell me about it, you wanna meet him?” you ushered mingyu over, pulling him away from san’s parents who he was already in the midst of a conversation with, introducing him to san who looked like he saw an angel. they quickly fell into conversation, the topic turning into gym talk quicker than you thought it would, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. 

yeosang and his family followed shortly after, his mom rushing in with a bottle of red wine, hurrying straight to your mom where you were sure she was dying to tell her some form of drama. yeosang followed behind, making a beeline straight to where you stood with the two men, an impressed look on his face. 

his eyebrows were raised, head tilted towards mingyu in a way you knew said ‘is this him?’ and you gave him a proud smile– this was going so much better than the million terrible scenarios you imagined. yeosang interrupted their conversation to introduce himself to mingyu, the two shaking hands, effectively pushing you out of the triangle they formed almost immediately. 

yunho’s family was last to show up, his tall figure looming over the rest of his family, you caught his eye just as he stepped over the threshold into your foyer. the four of you stood in the living room off to the side, mere feet from where he walked in– yet he followed his parents straight into your kitchen, completely dismissing you where the group of you stood. 

you seem to be the only one who noticed as you quirked a brow, your feet leading you to the kitchen before you had a moment to think about it. “hey,” you said softly, your eyebrows slightly knitted together, your arm coming up to rest on the sleeve of his jacket.

he twists his body to look down at you, muttering a “hey” that matched yours before he was tugging off the sleeves of his jacket. you pulled your hand back to your side. 

“everything okay?” you tilted your head, taking his jacket from him, bouncing on your feet– adrenaline was coursing through you, if you wanted anyone to like mingyu, it was yunho. his aloof attitude was almost enough to wake your nerves back up.

“yeah, all good, was that the boyfriend at the door?” he looked over your head, eyes going back to your living room where the three still stood. ace walked over, mouth full of another one of the appetizers he’d been snacking on for at least the past hour, interrupting you and yunho entirely.

“what up? these are really good,” he lifted his hand up to the two of you, two more of the finger foods in his palm, talking with his mouth open and full of food. you lifted your top lip in disgust, shaking your head, walking to the closet to hang yunho’s jacket. 

when you walked back to the living room, ace and mingyu were shaking hands, one of the finger foods in mingyu’s open palm– definitely from ace. yunho stood next to him, his face stoic as it was moments ago, all of the men now in conversation. you made your way around the circle, taking everyone’s jacket– host duties. 

“i can hang mine,” mingyu shook his head when you finally got to him, looking baffled that you even asked for his jacket, “you have enough in your hands, sweetheart. here, let me take some.” 

your cheeks flushed as he took all of the jackets from your arms, the rest of the boys watching as you led him to the closet, hanging each jacket from his arms onto the wooden rack in the middle of your hallway. 

“they’re all super cool,” mingyu’s voice was quiet as you took another jacket from his arms so only you could hear him, “not at all intimidating like you made it out to be.”

“is that sarcasm?” you give a playful smile, tilting your head, keeping your eyes on him as you put the sleeves of yeosang’s jacket over the hanger. 

“they’re all much younger than me,” mingyu’s face was unbothered, blank without a trace of sarcasm, “you were nervous for nothing. you and ace look the exact same, it’s kind of terrifying.”

you rolled your eyes, a sound of amusement escaping you, “you know we’re twins, gyu.” 

“i’d believe you if you told me that you were identical,” he raised his eyebrows, shifting his weight to one foot after he handed you the last jacket. 

facing the coat rack, you looked over your shoulder to say, “so i’ve heard.” 

you brought him to the kitchen, the four families stood around the massive room, split into two groups– mothers with mothers, fathers with fathers and matt, everyone already deep in conversation. you lean toward mingyu, “they’ll talk until it’s time to eat, we usually hangout in the living room, then we’ll eat at the table that will remind you of the last fucking supper, then the parents usually all leave and the boys stay over.”

“you told me that last night, where does your mom cater from?” mingyu asks, brain elsewhere, mindlessly walking further into the kitchen which forces you to follow behind him. you were initially not going to go in there, but instead drag him back to where the boys were– you were following him like a lost puppy in your own house.  

your mom pulled him into her conversation, introducing him to the rest of the moms, you watched as mingyu shook everyone’s hand wearing his infamous, perfect smile. mingyu didn’t shy away for a moment, instead he seemed eager to meet everyone– you seemed to forget mingyu is a man, and not only a thirty year old man, but a businessman. he doesn’t shy away from conversation or hide from it, he welcomes it, he knows how to do it. you wondered if it was just because he had eight years on you or if it was because these people are your people. 

either way, it didn’t matter as you were inevitably pulled into the conversation, yeosang’s mom asking for the story of how you met. mingyu looked down at you, “can i tell the story?”

you nodded, you were sure the smile hadn’t left his face once. “she was out on a date already when we met, actually.”

yeosang and san’s mom both giggled after gasping at the same time, making mingyu chuckle with them. “scandalous– i know, but i couldn’t help it. she was touring the distillery i own, and i was smitten the moment i saw her. i gave her my business card instead of flat out giving her my number, i had to be inconspicuous.”

“you own a distillery?” yunho’s mom lifted a brow, leaning forward, making the wine in her glass rock side to side in its confines. 

mingyu nods, “seventeen whiskey, if you’ve heard of it.” 

“if i’ve heard of it– jongcheol! come here,” san’s mom calls across the room to the group of fathers, who were all standing in their own circle, glasses full of what you assumed was whiskey. “apologies, he loves that whiskey, i want him to meet you. mingyu, right?” 

“kim mingyu,” he says with a nod, waving his hand in protest, “don’t apologize at all.” 

as san’s parents pulled mingyu into conversation, you were left with the other moms who were staring at you expectantly. yeosang’s moms voice is hushed as she leans closer to you, “that’s a keeper, tiny.”

your smile is wide, because you know, and you’d do your very best to keep him.

“i always thought you’d end up with one of the boys,” your mom frowns for a second before it turns into a warm smile, “but i can’t lie and say he isn’t perfect for you, teens– better keep him far away from us.”

the three moms cackle in laughter, clinking their wine glasses with one another in agreement, probably already leaning toward tipsy. you laugh with them, attempting to not show your discomfort, not knowing what else to do in this situation– you needed a drink. 

you walked towards your garage door off the side of the kitchen, all of the alcohol you and the boys drank was stocked in the fridge there, only whiskey and wine inside the house. when you pulled open the door, ace and yunho stood in front of the fridge with beers in hand, already in conversation. you could only hear the end of ace’s sentence, making out the words ‘i don’t like it’. 

“don’t like what?” you asked as you stepped through the door frame, your back to them as you ripped open the refrigerator door. their heads snapped to you the moment you were through the threshold, quiet for a moment before ace answered. 

“what the caterers are serving for dinner,” ace responds, him and yunho now standing side by side as you crack open a surfside. 

“why are you talking about it in the garage? you okayed the menu when mom asked,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a sip from your can, putting your other hand on your hip.

“i changed my mind,” ace shrugged, “let’s go back in, it’s cold in here.”

your eyebrows furrowed as ace threw his arm around your shoulder, pushing you back inside the house. san, yeosang and vivi were all in the second living room with the TV, sat on the couches just as they were the other night– vivi on the farthest corner, the other two taking up their usual spots. ace and yunho sit where they usually do, whipping out their phones as soon as they sat down.

the whole interaction threw you off completely. they were in the living room, yet every ounce of you wanted to be in the kitchen with mingyu— yet you didn’t want to be in the kitchen with the parents at all. you shift your weight on your heels, an invisible string pulling you to your usual spot on the couch as you said, “i’m gonna go check on mingyu.” 

you shook it off before you reached the kitchen, mingyu all but blending in with the dads, standing tall above the group of them. it makes you smile, it was amusing to see mingyu towering over several fifty year olds. you slip in the circle next to him, all the dads greet you, already telling you how great mingyu is— including matt, not that it mattered to you. 

your smile is wide, confidence coming back to you– “thank you, i know.” you look up to mingyu, “i’ve been a terrible host, did you want a drink?”  

mingyu nods, opening his mouth but you already knew what he was going to say, “we have macallan 18, family reserve bourbon, 15 i think, or yamazaki 18.” 

he thinks for a second, taken aback by your knowledge, you actually asked matt for the information last night. he smiles in surprise, “the bourbon, can you pour–”

“neat, i know,” you wink, finishing his sentence again, escaping from the dad-circle to head to the bar off the side of your kitchen, in the corner of the dining room. you don’t realize mingyu follows you until you’re standing at the bar, back to him as he slips his hand around your waist, turning you around with ease. 

you don't have any time to make a sound of surprise before his lips are pressed to yours, hastily slipping his tongue into your mouth with such force your hands move to the counter behind you to hold yourself up. you whine into the kiss, using your arms to give you leverage to push your chest into him, hands then breaking from the counter to reach up to his face. 

“where’d this come from?” you break the kiss, keeping your face centimeters from his, releasing the breath he stole from you back into his mouth. it was hot– doing this in a corner of your house where you could easily be seen. this energy was new for mingyu, you weren’t used to him being so eager, so impatient, instead usually slow and controlled— you liked this attitude on him, the feeling that he couldn’t wait made you just as impatient. 

his lips are on yours before answering, “that was so fucking sexy, you studied whiskey for me?” 

you giggle into the kiss, that explains that, “i asked matt one question and he went on about what we have for probably ten minutes, he’s very proud of our collection.” your words are light and bubbly, a harsh contradiction to how mingyu’s lips traveled to your jaw, “i now know that the bourbon is from kentucky, it’s legendary, it’s flavor profile is caramel, oak and–”

“vanilla,” he finishes for you, pulling away from your neck to peck your lips again. “we talked about whiskey the entire time you were gone.”

“i’m sure you loved that,” you stare up into his eyes, rich, chocolate brown staring back at you, deeper than usual— hungry. you tilted your head, batting your eyelashes to egg him on further, “did i impress you?” 

his groan was deep, coming from the depths of his lungs, quiet enough to not be heard outside of the room. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice lowering an octave, “if i could fuck you stupid against this bar i would.” 

you gasped, eyebrows twisting, his words went straight to your core. he still wouldn’t sleep with you last night, instead insisting only you get off once again– you cursed under your breath, “you’re fucked up for saying that now when you had me under you last night.”

he backed up a step, his smirk devious, “i’ll have you under me again tonight, just say the word, princess.” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before looking past you, picking up the bottle of bourbon as if the interaction you just had didn’t affect him in the slightest. you looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth damn near watering– all you could think was finally, finally, finally. 

he poured his own glass of whiskey instead, leaving you breathless and silent next to him, trying to push your desire down until you didn’t notice it anymore, which deemed itself impossible when the only thought in your head was what’s to come later. you heard your mom announcing dinner was ready from the kitchen, ruining your moment alone with mingyu entirely, and you walked into the kitchen with hot ears and a burning pit in your stomach. 

everyone was already beginning to sit around the enormous table, long enough to fit the fifteen of you, caterers running about the kitchen with food on platters. the table was set with plates and silverware, glasses of water already filled, centerpieces extravagant and totally unnecessary— the stage was set perfectly, you were sure your mom was thrumming with pride. 

you took your place where you always did, inviting mingyu to sit beside you instead of yunho who sat directly across from you. the table was always divided between the parents and the kids, husbands sitting with wives, but you, your siblings and your friends always sat at the other end of the table, always in the same seats. mingyu sat to your right, putting yeosang to your left, vivi beside him, then across from you was san, ace and yunho. mingyu sat beside san’s father, which you were sure wasn’t on purpose— the man immediately brought up how mingyu ran his company. 

as you got settled in your seat, the others talking amongst one another and mingyu beside you in conversation, the unease returned as if it never left. you realized you had nowhere to run, there was nothing for you to do— no taking jackets from anyone else, no drinks to be fetched from the bar, no escaping to an entirely different room to avoid whatever you were scared of. 

mingyu’s hand rested on your thigh as if he could read your thoughts, not even sparing you a glance from being mid-conversation with san’s dad— but somehow he knew, or he didn’t know and this is just who mingyu is. you rested your hand on top of his as your mom stood at the head of the table. 

she made her speech, the same one as usual— you can choose friends but you can’t choose family, how lucky are we to have been able to choose our own family? you were sure the six of you could recite it by heart— as you looked to the other five seated around you and they silently said her speech verbatim, you had to cover your mouth to muffle the laugh that rose up in your throat. 

the caterers came around much like waiters in your own house, filling up your plates one by one with entrees and sides from a menu your mom picked by hand. 

“i need to know where she caters from,” mingyu leaned in close to your ear, nudging your arm with his own after taking his first bite, making you smile as you cut into your own food. “it’s not funny, i’m serious. i want to hire them.”  

“ask her yourself,” you nudge back, moving your food around on your plate. you looked up as you brought your fork up to your mouth, ace was in the middle of saying something into yunho’s ear. you pointed your gaze at the taller one who caught your eye, he didn’t even react, dismissing you as if you hadn’t even made eye contact at all. 

“stop telling secrets,” you say across the table, making yeosang’s ears perk up from beside you. 

“share with the class,” yeosang backs you up, eyes also pointed at the two. ace shoots the same glare back at yeosang, which shuts him up entirely. it was getting too obvious now— you were itching to grill them about it. 

“ace,” mingyu starts from beside you, ripping you from your thoughts, “your sister told me you’re a law student, right? where do you go to school?” 

ace’s expression is blank, “uh, i go to lexford, studying corporate law.” 

mingyu winks, “call me when you pass the bar, i might need you in the future.” he picks up another piece of his food with his fork, “i actually have a buddy who leads a seminar for something to do with corporate law— maybe ethics?” 

a knowing smile sits on ace’s face as he leans forward on the table, body turning in mingyu’s direction, “tell me it’s jeon wonwoo.” 

mingyu’s smile grows wider, “that’s him, you know him?” 

“i’m taking his online seminar this semester,” ace nods as his entire face lights up, “incredibly smart guy, his seminar is like nothing else i’ve attended for, like, my entire career at lexford.” 

mingyu laughs, “i’ll have to tell him, i’ll put in a good word.” 

“wait, actually?” ace’s eyebrows shoot up, “i’m working on my thesis and an independent study with him would actually save my life.” 

“he owes me a favor,” mingyu nods with a tight lipped smile, “i’ll see what i can do.” 

your smile widens, you feel lighter, a weight lifted off of your shoulders from such a simple interaction. you’ve never cared about ace’s approval for anything, but for some reason it feels so good to see him bonding with your maybe-could-be-boyfriend. 

the unease doesn’t fully go away, especially not when yunho began shooting daggers across the table, eyes cold as ice in a way you haven’t seen in ages, you weren’t sure if you or mingyu were on the receiving end. you shiver. 

mingyu notices your physical reaction, his massive arm wrapping around your shoulders, palm rubbing your bicep in comfort. he leans into your ear, “you cold?” 

“something like that,” you respond, a meek smile on your face. you wouldn’t call him out across the table, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle yunho’s brute honesty in front of the people who mattered most to you— if you had every person’s approval except for yunho, how much weight would his opinion hold?

dinner passed smoothly, mingyu was immersed in conversation with the parents while you talked to your friends, barely even speaking a word to one another unless he brought you into the other side of the table for conversation. you didn’t think anything of it until you were in your basement after dinner was over, the boys on the couch before the tv with controllers in hand, playing the game they were always playing. you felt like you had mingyu’s voice in your ear the entirety of dinner, and now he was silent. 

“do you know the game they’re playing?” you ask him, cuddled into his side on the smaller couch off to the side, your skirt long forgotten. you replaced your outfit with sweats the moment all of the parents left through the front door– if your mom loves anything, it’s appearances. 

“no idea,” he says, but his eyes are trained on the television, eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus. he leans his head onto yours, asking, “do you play with them?”

“hell no,” you giggle, “i have no interest in video games.” 

“i play sometimes, just haven’t played this one,” he leans his head back, settling into the couch a little more, hand coming to rest on your thigh. the gears turn in your head, realization hitting you that the only thing mingyu had in common with any of your boys was the gym and ace’s professor, of all things. 

mingyu had everything in common with the parents— a career first and foremost, their schedules, taxes. the gap is apparent and it’s huge, the thought feels sour in your stomach and you hate it. everything up until now had been perfect, you needed to dry off the rain on your parade before it turned to a downpour. 

“wanna go upstairs?” you ask him directly in his ear, not that any of the boys could hear you with their incessant screaming at the game. he looks at you with eyebrows raised, a surprised look on his face, but he nods with no hesitation. 

“we’re going up,” you announce to the room as you walk toward the staircase and all necks snap to look at you. the unease slithers back up your spine after you feel like it just left you, the hairs on your arms sticking up– in that moment you knew there was something they weren’t telling you, and all four boys are in on it this time. 

your face contorts into something between confusion and alarm as san asks, “you don’t wanna hangout a while longer?” 

your head turns, neck twisting in discomfort. you hesitate, not sounding completely sure of yourself as you respond, “it’s getting late, i want to watch my show.”

“are you staying over?” ace asks mingyu, chin jutting upward in question to where mingyu stood. 

mingyu shrugs, head turning to you as he says, “if you’ll have me.”

you suck your lip between your teeth while nodding, and mingyu gives you a tight lipped smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. oh, you hate this and you need to fix it now. mingyu has been able to read you since the moment you met, you knew as soon as you stepped foot into your bedroom he’d be quizzing you. you bid the boys goodnight and head all the way up to your room, you were brainstorming the entire trudge there, only coming up with one thing to make this feeling go away– what he promised you earlier. 

your room was on the opposite end of the hallway from ace, the guest room and a bathroom separating you, vivi’s room up in the attic– her choice. with your parents’ room on the first floor, you officially had nothing to stop you from jumping mingyu, no one to hear you. you were sure that everything would go back to normal after that. 

“it’s so… clean,” mingyu says as you turn on the lamp beside your bed, filling the space with a dim warmth, white bed sheets turning a sunset orange under the amber hue. 

“thank you,” you smile, closing your bedroom door, “it has to be that way or else i can’t sleep.” 

he raises a brow, “really?” 

you shake your head, “you have no idea. do you want a change of clothes? i can snag some from ace’s room, i think even yunho might’ve left some clothes in the guest room.” 

he’s walking around your room, looking at all of your decorations, then his eyes glaze the picture frames on your desk. he looks over to you after a moment of silence, “yes, please, then we can talk about why that was so weird.” 

your lips pull into a line– you hadn’t even gotten a chance to seduce him yet, fuck him and his developed frontal lobe. your feet drag into the guest room, thinking yunho’s clothes would fit him better than ace’s, even though ace’s build wasn’t too far off from either men. 

before you even handed mingyu the pile of clothes, he was already reaching behind his head, slipping his shirt over his head. your breath hitches in your throat– finally, finally you were seeing what was hidden underneath, and being flabbergasted wasn’t enough to explain what mingyu was keeping beneath his shirt. honey, golden and chiseled, as if he were handcrafted by the gods themselves, your imagination couldn’t compare to the absolute perfection that was kim mingyu. 

you cursed under your breath, eyes racking down his body from his collarbone to his belt, pile of clothes dropping to the floor and feet carrying you closer to him without a second thought. words come back to you as you shamelessly say, “i need my mouth on every inch of you.” 

he laughs, a soft chuckle as you stand up on your tippy toes to reach his lips, your mind clear enough to realize that your plan was set back in motion. the kiss was dizzying, so deep and sensual it had your brain clouding up as he walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit your mattress. 

he laid you back, massive frame hovering over yours as his lips met yours once again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you hooked your legs around his back as he fully crawled onto the bed, hands coming to the back of his neck to pull him closer. 

he pulls back, still keeping his face close, “we need to talk, princess.” 

“later,” you murmur, attaching your lips again, pulling him closer. your hand travels down his chest to his pants, fingers wisping over what was beneath them, wanting to feel him. he grows under your touch and lets out a groan, breaking the kiss to let his head hang, eyes screwed shut tight as you up the pressure. 

“want you so bad,” you say in the sweetest voice as your hands go to his belt, and he actually lets you unbuckle it. all thoughts leave you as you pull the strip of leather from its loops, this was actually happening, and it was in your bedroom– somehow it made everything more intimate. 

he curses as your hand reaches below his boxers after getting him unzipped with ease, strong arms still holding himself up beside your head. you moan as you finally feel him, you couldn’t hold it back, imagining what he’d feel like inside you, you needed to see him. 

“let me taste you,” you whispered, more of an order than a question and he keels over, body rolling off of you.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” his voice is surprisingly wrecked as his back hits the mattress, hands folding beneath his head. your grin is wide at the idea of him obeying you, flipping over so easily after so long of denying you… the thought of what made him finally say yes crosses your mind.

“you’ll be just fine,” your excitement is clear as you pull his boxers down his thighs, watching in awe as his length springs up against his abdomen. a sight for sore eyes, pink and leaking, he was just as massive as he felt and as delicious as you’d imagined. your eyes widened, “so fucking big.” 

between his legs you began with kitten licks to his tip, drinking up the droplets of precum he’d offered you with obligation. raw and unfiltered and so him, you moaned at the same time, music to your ears giving you the confidence to take him into your mouth fully. two hands around him with room to spare, you wondered if mingyu would fit inside you, he was definitely not fitting inside your mouth. 

“fuck, you’re so good,” he groaned, keeping his voice low, his hands coming from the back of his head to pull your hair away from your face. as you created a rhythm, bobbing along his length with your mouth and hands moving in unison, his words came out staggered as he said, “just like that, princess.” 

you loved mingyu’s praise, you loved his degradation, too– but hearing the words with your mouth wrapped around his cock was different. it urged you to work harder, to take him further, as if feeling his cum hitting the back of your throat would be more than a reward, more like a gift. you pumped him faster, hollowing out your cheeks just a little and he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth, cock hitting so deep you gagged. he moaned, really moaned, a higher pitch than what you’ve heard yet, and the wetness between your thighs grew tenfold. 

his hands wrapped in your hair tightened, a harsh grip on your scalp as he said, “don’t fucking stop– ah, doing so fucking good for me, baby.”

your eyes screwed shut, fighting your gags hard as you pushed yourself further, no doubt bruising your throat just to hear him keep talking. as if he could hear your thoughts, he continued, “want me to cum down your pretty little throat?”

you could hear his smile as he taunts you, “bet you’d love that, been begging for my cock for days.” 

you whimper, eyes opening with tears in your waterline, involuntarily swallowing around him. he lurches forward, eyebrows knitting in pleasure, voice dipping an octave, “fuck– fuck, do that again.”

you obeyed, constricting your throat around him again and his head falls back, his adam’s apple on display before it snaps forward again, “i’m gonna- gonna cum.”

his hands flee from your hair, and you know immediately it’s so you don’t feel pressured to take him down your throat, but you couldn’t imagine not being rewarded for your efforts. you gag around him again, the tightness of your throat finally pushing him over the edge and he spills, a quiet, long groan leaving his lips as ropes of white cum shoot down your throat, swallowing before even tasting him. 

he curses as you lick him clean, popping off of him with a proud smile on your face. he chuckles before leaning forward, grabbing you by your armpits to pull your body atop his. he smiles before pecking your lips, “you’re so fucking perfect, so fucking perfect.”

you kiss him again and he embraces it, tongue slipping into your mouth without hesitation, nasty and messy and wet. you whimper, your cunt was throbbing– you could feel the wetness between your legs only growing, as if your body knew it was mingyu under you, knew you could be coming in minutes if he’d just slip his hand beneath your panties. 

“you gonna be quiet for me?” he asks, hands coming up to keep your hair away from your face, cradling your cheeks. you nodded, bringing a hand on top of his, pulling it away from your cheek to press a kiss to his palm. 

“i know you will, my good girl,” your body heats up at his words, threatening to let a moan slip from your lips without even being touched. he continues, his words stealing all the breath from your lungs, “sit on my face.” 

“gyu,” you whine, keeping your voice hushed, “want you inside me already.”

“gotta open you up first, wanna taste you,” he says absent mindedly as his fingers go to your hoodie, pulling it up with your shirt and quickly slipping your sweatpants down your legs. 

you don’t argue, but instead hesitate out of nerves– you pause, legs hovering over his chest, knees planted onto the mattress. you bite your lip, “i’ve never done this before.”

“you’ve never gotten head before?” his eyes shoot open, staring at you as if that was a crime. 

“no!” your voice is louder than you intended it to be, quieting down again to say, “i’ve never sat on someone’s face before.”

“oh,” he says as if it was no big deal, then looks up at you again with an eyebrow lifted, “really?” 

“mingyu,” you whine, “tell me what to do.” 

“sit,” he says simply, and he doesn’t continue. that was his only instruction.

you blink at him, “and then what?” 

he smiles wide, “and then i make you cum.” 

his hands are on your hips before you can process it, pulling you down onto his face, the moment his tongue meets your folds you moan. wanton, lewd, it was long and loud. 

“what’d i say?” he pulls away to scold you and you purse your lips, eyes widening as if you’d just gotten caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “as much as i want to listen to you, your entire family is in this house. be respectful.”

“no one’s on this floor, they can’t hear us,” you argue, but his tongue is back between your folds instead of answering you. your head falls forward and you moan quieter this time, no headboard for you to grab onto, your muscles already willing to give out. 

he pulls you down onto his face harder and you mewl, he’s silently begging you to let go of control, let loose on his face – but you don’t know what you’re doing and you don’t want to crush his face between your thighs. 

“relax,” he encourages from beneath you, voice soft and sweet, thumbs massaging circles into your hips. you relax your muscles, keeping most of your weight on your knees rather than on his face, focused more on doing than enjoying. he notices, hands traveling to your chest, flipping your bralette upward to get his hands on your breasts. 

thumbs ghosting over perked nipples had you twitching, your hips grinding against his tongue and he smiled against you, using more pressure, taking the buds between his fingers to pinch. your hips bucked, clit sliding forward to bump against his nose and it seemed to crack open all sense of dignity with the way you released an unrestrained moan. noise after noise left your lips, without complaint from mingyu as you began to grind against him, gaining a rhythm now, hands coming up to grip at his wrists as the pit began forming in your stomach, quicker with each pass of his nose over your clit. 

“that’s it, princess. use me,” he said into you, hot breath on your center, eyes completely glossed over and focused solely on you, the words sending all the blood in your body straight to your center, beckoning your orgasm to come faster. you quickened your pace, the sounds escaping you turning desperate and filthy as your hands came down to grip onto his hair, his tongue sticking outward so you can ride it. 

it was new— this feeling of confidence, being in control, getting yourself off at your own pace. just a few weeks ago no one else had even made you finish, and here you were holding the reins. how far you’ve come.

“mingyu– i’m gonna cum,” you gasp out, shocking yourself with how utterly debauched you sounded, too far gone for embarrassment to wash over you. the pads of his fingers play with your buds as you bring yourself to orgasm, hips riding his face at a rhythm to send yourself over the edge, breath hitching in your throat as you finally feel it hit. like a train, a bus, a truck, shockwaves of pleasure rack through you that had your legs shaking around his head, hips twitching against his lips, head hanging forward with your eyes rolled back— mingyu was drinking it up. 

arms hooking around your hips to keep you in place and his tongue flattening out to lick you up had you convulsing, whimpers flying from your lips as your orgasm fades to a muted throb and overstimulation takes over. 

“mingyu.” your hands grip onto his hair again, hips that attempted to buck away from his face didn't have very far to go until strong arms pulled them back into position. 

he finally gives you the space to come down, a comforting sigh leaving your lips on cue. his head hits the mattress, hair fucked and eyes glazed over, but his smile was victorious. “that was so hot, do it again.” 

“i want to sit on your cock not your face,” you shimmy out of his grip and he lets you – much to your surprise – hips backing up to sit on his very bare thighs. his eyes drift from your center sitting inches away from his cock that was hard and leaking against his stomach again back up to your face, you were sure it was flushed and sweaty and gone by now. 

“gimme a sec, let me grab a condom,” he says as he sits up, pecking your lips before scooping you from his lap onto your mattress. 

“what makes you think i don’t have one?” you don’t, you know you don’t, but you tease him anyways as your head hits your pillows, positioning yourself so the two of you wouldn’t be sideways anymore– and now you have the headboard if you need it. 

he turns back to you as he pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his pants, a knowing look on his face, “okay, do you have one?” 

your lips purse, “no.”

his smile was comical, “thought so.” 

he kneels between your legs after taking his pants off fully, ripping the packet open with his teeth, spitting the foil onto the bed beside your legs. you didn’t think a simple act could be so sexy, especially one as awkward as that, by this point it shouldn’t surprise you that mingyu could make anything hot. you unclasp your bra behind you and throw it to the floor, widening your legs further, excitement consuming you. you wanted him so bad, you were thrilled he didn’t wait any longer, you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. 

you gasp as he bends down to spit between your folds, hips bucking as he spreads it across your folds. he looks up to you, face turned serious, “if it hurts you need to tell me.” 

“i will,” your voice was breathy, giving it away that you were here but not fully. growing impatient your eyes were trained on his cock, not even looking at him as you responded. 

“hey, look at me,” he leans forward, arms caging you in, forcing you to pay attention as his build completely swallows you beneath him. “tell me if it hurts.” 

“oh my god, i will,” you whine, legs hooking around his back– your mouth was near watering. 

“spoiled,” he mutters as he lines himself up, tip so much as prodding at your entrance invoking a hiss from your lips. you curse as he pushes further, your eyes screwed shut in something between pain and pleasure, but you don’t say a word– you’d lose your mind if he stopped now.

“so tight– ah, gotta open up for me, baby,” his voice is strained, taking it slow as he inches forward, cock dragging against your walls at an agonizing pace. “fuck, knew i should’ve made you cum again.” 

“keep going,” you encourage, moving your hips to meet his thrust, taking him further. the stretch was delicious– slightly painful, mingyu was bigger than anyone else you’d ever taken, thicker than anything that’s ever been inside you. it was worth it, so, so worth it as you feel every vein along your walls, hypnotizing you, dragging you under whatever spell he was casting. 

when he pushed himself to the hilt he took a pause, giving you a moment to adjust, to get used to how big he felt inside you. you hummed, the burn along your entrance dimming to a flicker of heat. he felt perfect inside you, as if he was made to be there, as if your walls were already molded to his shape. 

“move?” he asked, his right hand moving your hair out of your face before he cupped your cheek, you fed him a nod. he slipped out slowly, rocking his hips to push back in at a quicker pace– you moaned, the pain turning to pleasure as soon as he hit that spot.

“so fucking tight,” he said under his breath, voice rough and husky, “god, you’re fucking perfect.” 

you moaned in response, back arching into him as he hit that spot again– it wasn’t by chance, his thrusts were precise, practiced, they were skilled. like everything else he’d done so far, mingyu knew exactly what to do to completely wreck you. 

“holy fuck,” you cried, your moans growing in volume as he picked up the pace, rocking his hips as if it were a dance, movements so fluid you already considered yourself ruined for anyone else. no one could compare to this. 

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you, touch you, be close to you as he fucked you dumb– you needed everything all at once, his cock felt so good inside you it was almost overwhelming. he kisses you hard, lips messy and harsh and incredible, the perfect pair to his cock that was burying itself inside you with abandon. 

“should’ve known you couldn’t be quiet,” he said, cocky tone to his voice as he broke the kiss, you could feel his smirk as it smeared across your wet lips, simultaneously offering you a particularly harsh thrust. 

you yelped then through a broken moan you said, “it’s y–our fault, you fuck like a god.” 

“you see why i wanted to wait, then,” he snickered as he sat up, long fingers wrapping around your ankles to place them on his shoulders. his hand fell to lay along your stomach, drilling himself inside you and you lost it, the back of your head pressing into your pillows, your last semblance of control gone. 

he leans forward with your legs on his shoulders at a quick speed, hand moving from your stomach to clasp over your mouth and you whimper into his palm. his voice is breathless, “consequences of your own actions, brat.” 

you cry out into his hand, noise muffled as he pistols inside you, hips stopping just before they can snap against your own, balls deep inside you and he had so much control. you wondered how he managed, you clearly had none after his cock had blatantly intoxicated you, you didn’t care if anyone heard you at this point. 

he lets your mouth go, pulling out of you swiftly just to flip you over, hands scooping under your body as if you weighed nothing. you had no time to whine in protest as his palm pushes your head into the pillows, cock filling you right back up. you scream into the pillow as he reaches deeper, you feel him in your stomach. 

“there we go,” you hear from behind you, his voice sounding too far away, “now you have no choice but to behave.” 

he positions his cock to hit that same spot with the new angle, pressing against it with such precision and rhythm you felt the pit in your stomach returning in just two thrusts. your hand reaches beneath your body, between your legs that just slightly opened up between his thighs, rubbing quick circles into your clit. 

“gonna cum already?” he sounds taunting behind you, hands squeezing your ass, spreading your cheeks so he could watch his cock relentlessly bully your cunt. it felt so fucking filthy but so hot— you rubbed your clit faster. 

“go ahead baby, show me — cum around this cock,” you could hear the hint of desperation in his voice, he was close too. you couldn’t form words as your orgasm approached with force, thighs shaking between his own, shamelessly drooling into your pillows as incoherent babbles left your lips. 

he gave your ass a harsh slap as his cock carved into you and it was enough to push you over the edge, burying your face in your pillows as everything clenched. he grunted, his voice strained as he attempted to be quiet himself — “f-fuck, yes, that’s it.” 

your orgasm was so long and so intense, he fucked you through it, losing his control as his hips finally clapped into the cheeks of your ass, chasing his own high. you turned your head, catching your breath, sounding as fucked out as you probably looked as you said, “cum for me, gyu, wish you were filling me up.” 

he gasped, splitting you in half as he brought himself to orgasm, stilling inside you with a moan as he unloaded into the condom. you wore a weak smile — you weren’t lying, the only thing you could think was that you wish you could feel the warmth, the fullness of him coming inside. it seemed he wished the same with how quickly he finished after you said it. 

“i hope no one heard,” was the first thing out of his mouth as he slowly pulled out, you whimpered at the loss — you were positive you’d never feel that full again. 

“it’s fine,” your voice was raw, too tired and too spent to turn over. you felt him slide off the bed, watched as he tied up the condom and threw it in the trash, smiled as he picked up yunho’s sweatpants from the floor. 

“you okay? need water or anything?” he asked as he pulled them up his legs — you were right, the sweatpants fit him perfectly. 

“water,” you mumbled, your pupils still the only thing moving, watching him silently as he reached for your water bottle that sat on your desk. 

he joined you back in bed, scooping you up in his arms to place you on his front, holding the water bottle in front of your face so you could drink from the straw. 

“did i break you?” he asked, amusement lacing his words, you could hear his thoughts— you still felt somewhere else entirely, definitely not in your room with a drool covered cheek on his bare chest. 

you hummed in response, eyes falling shut. you laid like that for awhile, cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he mindlessly played with your hair, fingers scratching at your scalp. 

“come back to me, i’m getting nervous,” he said after some time, his heartbeat quickening with his words. 

“i’m okay, still processing,” your voice was light, hopefully comforting, “you just fucked my brains out, just wanna lay like this.” 

his chuckle was deep from his chest, flat against your ear as his hands moved to your bare back, tracing circles along your skin. he sighed — “let me clean you up, put some clothes on you, then we’ll get back in bed and put on your show.” 

you whined, but agreed nonetheless, the air of your bedroom turned cold against your skin that was quickly losing its heat. you had never been more grateful for a bathroom attached to your bedroom as you were right now, a shirtless mingyu running you a bath, sitting on the tiled floor as you soaked in the warmth of the water. you talked the whole time, about the sex, about your likes and dislikes, the conversation was open and honest. you wouldn’t expect mingyu to be a kinky guy, and he wasn’t beside his slightly dominating nature. 

he didn’t consider himself inherently dominant, it wasn’t a trait he had across the board, only something that came out of him with you. you didn’t know if you were naturally submissive or if it was something that just came out with him— you were still exploring sexually, you opened up about your past with frat guys, how someone else just made you cum for the first time mere weeks ago. he took it all in with open arms and zero judgement, he told you that you should never be with someone who didn’t care about your needs, didn’t respect you enough to get you off, too. 

the bath brought you back to reality, but your talk with mingyu brought you down to earth. it still amazed you how easily the two of you communicated, how comfortable it is to share things with him that you would only share with the other boys, if not more. he carried you back to your bed bridal style— he insisted, he also insisted on pulling pajama pants up your legs, an oversized tee shirt over your head.

“brookhaven college? you go to crest university, don’t you?” he asked as he pulled the cotton over your head, reading the print across the front. 

you looked down at the shirt then back up to him, “this is yunho’s, i don’t know how it made its way into my laundry, must’ve gotten confused with the clothes he keeps here.” 

“ah, the tall and broody one?” he questions as you both crawl into your bed, settling beneath your comforter. 

“he’s not usually brooding, i don’t know what was up with him tonight,” you say through a yawn, cuddling into mingyu’s armpit, laying your head on his bare chest again. 

he was silent for a moment before he asked, “have you ever had a… thing with any of them?” 

you picked your head up from his chest, staring at him with a shocked and disgusted look plastered across your face. “never ask me that question again, hell no.” 

he raised an eyebrow. “i’ll ask a different one then — have they ever liked you? crushes on each other growing up, anything of the sort?”

“mingyu, they are the last humans on earth you need to worry about, they’re all extensions of ace to me. other brothers,” you said, your face completely serious. “they’ve never looked at me like that, i will never look at them like that, period.”

he pauses again — “alright.” 

he didn’t fully believe you, that much was clear, but there was no way to prove your innocence or your honesty, so you let it go. instead you reached for the TV remote and turned on your show, getting comfortable on mingyu’s skin once again, letting the topic of conversation leave you both fully. 

one of the couples in the show was in the midst of marital issues: she had gotten married young, divorced early into her marriage, remarried someone else and had kids just for her ex husband to come back into her life later on, leaving her conflicted. 

being someone who speaks over every show or movie on a screen, you blabbed, irritation in your tone. “if she had just waited to marry him, this never would’ve happened in the first place.”

“i disagree.” you looked at him with eyebrows raised, silently telling him to explain. “i think everything happens for a reason, she learned so much about herself and what she wants through her second marriage— filling in all the gaps that she was missing with her first husband. he’s a learning experience.” 

you contemplated it, “she could’ve learned all those things with him if she had just taken her time and not rushed it, she went through so much shit just to be back at square one.” 

“but then she wouldn’t have her kids,” mingyu argued, “even if she married him down the line, they wouldn’t have grown as individuals. all the things she’s learned are because of her second husband.” 

“so you think she was right in divorcing him?” you popped a brow, leaning off his chest to stare at him, “even though they were perfect together and came back to each other anyways.” 

“i think they came back to each other because they were meant to be,” his eyes were trained on the TV at the end of your bed, “it wasn’t their time yet, there was more the both of them needed to learn before they could have a healthy relationship without regrets.” 

he took a pause before he continued, looking at you now, “she reminds me of my ex-fiancée.” 

you sat up, shock written all over your face, “you were engaged?” 

he sighed, sliding his body up your pillows so he was sitting up a little straighter, “when i was twenty five, i popped the question after four years of dating. she was with me through some of the darkest parts of my life, i popped the question when i finally came out of everything, when i was stable again.” 

“we were engaged for a year until she broke it off,” he shrugged, “said she was too young, she wasn’t ready even though we were both twenty six.” 

you blink at him — “so the woman in the show reminds you of her, and you think the couple were meant to come back together after they both remarried.” 

you could hear the gears turning in his head before his eyes widened. “do not think too deeply into that, it’s just a coincidence. our first disagreement is not about to be over a netflix original.” 

your arms cross over your chest, voice coming off stern. “maybe we should talk about it, because why would you even say that to me?”

his eyes close, lips forming a thin line. “i had to tell you eventually, it’s been four years since we broke things off and i’ve dated plenty of women since i was with her. i am fully healed from that relationship, she lives across the country with her husband now.” 

his words sit with you, and not in a comforting way. “are you looking to get married? like, soon…?”

he looks at you as if he could see through you. “you’re twenty two, my love, i’m not rushing anything with you. i’ll get married when it’s right.” 

his words were supposed to make you feel better but they don’t— mingyu was ready to get married five years ago. he could’ve had a family by now, three kids and a dog if he wanted to. you hadn’t even graduated yet, you hadn’t even began student teaching— you had years to go before you’d be ready to have a ring around your finger, even if that was the goal eventually. you didn’t want to hold him back. 

mingyu could feel your shift in mood, feel your uneasiness, within moments he was pulling you in close, lips catching your own, freeing you from your thoughts. it took little to no time until he was rocking into you again, bodies pressed against each other, tongue licking into your mouth until he made you forget what you were feeling entirely. 

the thoughts didn’t come back until you were tangled in each other, sweaty and half asleep with your blankets half covering your bodies. you tried to push them away, turn your brain off but you couldn’t. 

all you wanted was a boyfriend for thanksgiving — kim mingyu wanted a wife.

8fd masterlist | masterlist

tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[enchantedflameandflower]

Billy Butcher x you oneshot!

Billy knows how to really take care of you when you need it most…

18+ only smut, piv, cock warming, creampie

Merry Christmas! 😘

~*~*~

It was getting late. Butcher was watching a movie on the couch, but you were sitting at the table, finishing up some work.

When you were finally done, you gave a huge sigh of relief and checked your email one last time.

"Fuck," you groaned as you opened the 5th message from your boss that night asking you for a report on one of your projects. Frustration and tension and anxiety surged inside of you like the tide, and for a moment all you could do was sit there and stare at the screen.

Butcher had paused halfway through his movie as he got up to get a drink and seemed to sense what was happening. Honestly, you were stressed a lot these days. Most of the time he wouldn't notice, or at least would just let you be but right now you felt like you were at your tipping point.

"C'mere doll," he said from behind you.

You glanced over your shoulder to tell him you were busy, but the fierce look in his eyes told you he was not going to take no for an answer.

You sighed when you stood up and went over to him but all you were thinking was 'he noticed.'

Butcher slid his hands around your waist, tugging you against him. "You've been workin' too hard."

All of the breath in your lungs seemed to escape in one big whoosh. "It's just how it is this time of year.

I just have one more report to work on. And I need to do my laundry. And it's Thursday."

Butcher leaned back, lifting his eyebrow at you.

"Dusting day," you explained meekly.

Billy gave you a look. "I'll do yer laundry with mine and dustin' can wait. What can I do tonight to make ya sit still for a while and let yerself go?"

You leaned forward wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his broad chest. He was right, you felt like you were about to collapse but there was still so much to do...

"Maybe just hold me," you said softly.

"I'd be chuffed, love, but yer mind would still be whirlin' wouldn't it. Need somethin' to distract that pretty head o' yours too."

He rubbed your back for a moment as he thought and a soft, but tired, little sound escaped your throat. He knew you, and he knew it had to be something different to truly get your mind off of your worries right now.

He glanced at the tv where the movie was paused, then back to you. "Up for a little playin', love? I've got an idea."

The look in his eye told you it was something interesting and you couldn't help immediately being intrigued. "Maybe...what would I have to do?"

"Nothin' love. Go and change inta somethin' comfy. Just a shirt, nothin' else, then come back out and sit with me."

"Ok." You gave him a kiss before you retreated into your shared bedroom.

When you came back out he was sitting on the couch and he groaned as soon as he saw you.

"Fuck me," he muttered.

You grinned at him, pleased. You'd changed into one of his shirts, and you'd left it unbuttoned, though it was pulled around you at the moment. It was soft and it barely came to the tops of your thighs.

"Well c'mon," he husked, patting his lap and letting his heated gaze roam over you.

You climbed into his lap kneeling over him and sitting back on his thighs. "If your idea is to fuck me..." you deadpanned.

He smirked wickedly, his hands sliding to your hips. "Nah it ain't that. You know you'd be comin' in minutes, love, then you'd be right back to your troubles again wouldn't ya? Need somethin' to relax yer brain fer a lot longer than that. Besides I need t'finish me film."

Well...he wasn't wrong.

For a moment you met his eyes, gleaming with mischief, and you could feel his cock swelling beneath you...and then you realized what he wanted to do. A surprising pulse of lust surged through your veins and you knew you were immediately wet for him. It wasn't something you'd ever thought of before but now that you did...now that you did you were more than eager to try. That might actually work.

His hazel eyes glinted with desire even as they darkened. "Be a good girl and get me cock out, yeah?"

You swallowed, nodding your head and sliding back off his lap. He gave you a look and you obeyed instantly, working his belt free and opening his jeans. He shifted his hips so you could tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and ready for you.

"How do you want me?" you whispered.

"Facin' the telly, yeah? Wouldn't want you to miss the rest o' the film."

You hadn't really seen the first half as you'd been working at the same time, but you had a feeling that didn't matter. And maybe it would help to have something to watch to help distract you from his...distracting.

You stood up and turned around as he slid one big hand around the base of his cock to steady it, and gripped your hip with the other.

"Ready, doll," he murmured low, and you moved to sit on him slowly, his hand positioning you with a tight grip.

When you felt the head of his cock at your entrance, a little moan left your lips but he kept guiding you down without pause.

"Fuck..." you breathed. Without much preparation, the fit was tight and he stretched you almost uncomfortably but you knew your body would adjust.

"Fuckin' hell, love, your gushin'," he groaned. "Must've liked this idea more than I realized."

You wanted to argue but a broken moan was all that left your lips. You took a breath as you took him all way, you ass quickly pressing flush against his thighs. "Oh my god..." you whimpered. Syrupy pleasure flooded through your body, making your clit throb and your cunt flutter around his length as you thought about staying like this.

Billy gripped your hips hard with both hands and you felt another gush of wetness around his cock. "Easy now. Take a deep breath fer me, love. Yer gonna have to calm down if you yer gonna be a good girl and let me keep ya on me cock till I'm done watchin'."

"Oh fuck," you moaned breathily, closing your eyes and biting your lip hard. Breathe.

His hands rubbed soothingly over your hips and outer thighs and you took a slow deep breath and licked your lips, focusing on the tv in front of you. You caught sight of the time bar and you almost groaned at the amount of time that was left, just a little less than an hour. Breathe.

He felt so thick inside of you, the size of him alone lighting up every nerve ending you had. But you had a long way to go so you took another deep breath, and finally your body let go of some of the tension, just a little.

That's my girl," Billy murmured low from behind you. He slid one arm around you and urged you to lean back against his chest. "Just rest here for a bit, filled up with me cock, not thinkin' 'bout nothin' else."

Your only answer was another whimper and he gave a low chuckle.

Starting the movie again, he moved a pillow to your side, and another on his shoulder so you could rest your head against it and still watch the movie. Your bare legs were draped over his jean clad thighs and you had to be careful not to let his open zipper scrape across your inner thighs or worse. Incentive not to move, you supposed.

You swallowed again, trying hard not to clench around him, but you couldn't help the little flutters of your cunt anytime his cock twitched or he shifted even the tiniest bit.

How he was keeping his own control so easily, you had no idea. Probably had a wank in the shower earlier, you sighed to yourself.

His chest was warm against your back and his big hand was rubbing your thigh. You really tried to watch the movie, but fuck, he was so deep like this. His cock was fiery hot inside of you and you swore you could feel the veins that ran the length of it. You felt every inch af him.

Minutes ticked by slowly, and you did your best for almost 15 of them, but as pleasure continued to pool in your center, and your body adjusted to his size, relaxing and taking him deeper, all you could think about was getting relief. You were dripping and you were sure he could feel it, but still he seemed as relaxed as ever, lazily stroking your thigh as he watched the tv.

Then before you could try to stop yourself, your hips rocked on top of his lap and a soft little cry escaped as bliss erupted inside you, making your whole body tense and buzz, making your fingertips tingle.

Billy rumbled and caught your hips with both hands, gripping hard, holding you still. "No movin', doll."

Your clit throbbed helplessly, completely neglected and you had to bite your lip to keep from whining pathetically, clenching your hands on your thighs.

"Breathe," he murmured, his beard tickling the curve of your neck as he leaned forward. You took a gulp of air, and then another, not even realizing you'd stopped.

Breathe.

Finally, you caught your breath and your lust lowered back to a simmer.

"That's a good girl fer me," Billy said, kneading your hips in reward but all you could do was groan at his praise and it made your cunt flutter around him again.

"Don't say that," you whimpered.

He gave a quiet laugh and patted your leg. "We'll have to keep practicin' this," he said low against the shell of your ear, then went back to watching the movie.

You slumped back against his broad chest again and his arm came around you. Instead of thinking about the way his cock was filling you, you tried to focus on letting your palm play over the little hairs on his forearm. After another 15 minutes, a hazy-sweet fog started to drift over your mind, some combination of dazed and still wildly turned on.

Anytime he moved it sent a jolt of pleasure through you but you were starting to get used to it, learning to let it soften into your body, banking it for later. After a while you couldn't even tell where he ended and you began, he was just a part of you.

At some point you must have completely spaced out, because you suddenly realized the tv was off. Billy was smoothing his hands slowly over your stomach and your thighs and your hips, still thick and big inside of you.

"Did I do it?" you murmured languidly.

Billy leaned closer, kissing the side of your neck, his mustache and his beard scratching sensitive skin spectacularly. "You did it. Such a good girl. My girl..."

You made a lilting, blissful sound and wrapped your fingers around his forearms, desperately needing to hold on to something.

"Think you can come for me now, pet?" His voice was gravelly and rough in your ear.

"Mmmm...mmhmm..." You gripped his arm tighter, unable to get your mind to even form another word. Every single worry was completely gone and you couldn't care less about anything except this right here.

Billy shifted underneath you, pushing his jeans further down his thighs and the movement made him thrust up into you.

You cried out, trembling with need, and he made a low sound to soothe you. "I've got ya, love. I'll take care now..."

It was too much to hold yourself up so you fell back against him and he rumbled approvingly. The vibration in his chest only added to your pleasure.

He pulled the edges of his shirt that you were wearing apart so you were totally exposed and tugged it down so your shoulders were bare but didn't bother taking it all the way off. Then he wrapped his hands around your bare waist and began to thrust up into you. "Fuck," he groaned. "Wasn't gonna last much longer either, love."

One of his big hands slid up to engulf your breast, kneading the weight of it in his palm then pinching your tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your heart stuttered as you gasped for breath, every nerve lighting up. Billy knew how to make your body sing.

Lifting one arm, you curled it around him to thread your fingers through his hair and let your eyes flutter closed, just feeling him.

Every single thrust hit the right spot and made you whimper or moan or cry. Pleasure seemed to only crest higher and higher inside you, no limit in sight.

Within moments, as he had predicted earlier, you were on the brink of orgasm, but you wanted more, needed it. Grabbing at his hand on your waist, you pushed it down, guiding his fingers to where you were joined.

Billy moaned, his lips brushing the nape of your neck. "Mmmm, needy little thing, ain't ya..." he teased, but he deftly nestled two fingertips right over your swollen clit.

The second he started to circle over the throbbing nub your bliss heightened ten-fold...it had been left ignored for too long.

Your cries now were so much that you vaguely wondered if the neighbors would be concerned but there was nothing you could do, and Billy didn't seem to care at all.

His fingers slowed when he sensed you were almost there and he used his free hand to move your knees to the outside of his so he could push your legs farther apart with his own, wide open for him, and stuffed full.

Then his fingertips returned to their fast, slick circles with haste.

The eruption of your climax happened immediately. Your entire body tensed in pleasure, wave after wave crashed through you in relentless pulses as he continued to stroke your clit.

The growl Billy let loose against your shoulder in response was earth-shaking. You had never felt an orgasm this intense before and you could tell your thighs and his fingers and his cock were drenched.

"Fuckin' "ell," he groaned. He moved to grip your hips with both hands one last time, the fingers on one hand still slick with you, and he bucked up into you, rough and erratic as his own orgasm began.

Burying his face against the curve of your neck, he bit down, moaning, low and gruff.

Broken whimpers and unintelligible words fell from your lips as every sensation continued to bounce and ping through your body like a pinball machine.

You could feel his come, hot and thick, spurting deep inside you. It felt just as good as everything else this night.

By the end of it you were completely expended, weak in his lap. You wouldn't be able to move even if the apartment caught on fire.

Billy was slumped into the couch now too, but his arms were around you and he was still inside you.

You had no idea how long the two of you lazed there, but eventually Billy regained his strength.

You whimpered as he finally slid out of you then gathered you up in his arms.

Your own strength was long gone and it was not coming back. He carried you into the bathroom and you were too fucked out to even care he stayed. After he cleaned both of you up, he scooped you up again and set you on the bed. He found your favorite, softest long t-shirt to sleep in and tucked you in. In the next minute he was sliding under the blankets too and he hauled you against his chest.

"Alright love?" he murmured.

"Mmmmmm. Mmmhmmmm." You were nestled in his arms, his skin warm beneath you and your face pressed to his shoulder. You wanted to say thank you but you were pretty sure only a mumble of half-formed words came out. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back and you felt him nuzzle the top of your head only seconds before you were out.

You couldn't go to work the next day, much to Butcher's smug amusement.

~*~*~

thank you for reading 🥹 thank you for all the inspiration to write this ❤️

(post tags are not working for this so doing my best to figure out what the issue is, and tagged people instead, I’m so sorry bleh tumblr)

@chocolategiverzombie @kus-babygirl @jynx15 @cassiopeia-grimm @karlurbanism

@weallhaveadestiny @violent-darkness @norman-b @fenyxhawthorn @smallsadjellyfish

@butchersboobs @shirley-girly @bobabilbil @galaxyshifting @angelically-yours

@burntsaltsblog @multifandomqueen199032 @waerwena @rebelled-angel @spikycritter

karl urban masterlist

[verstappenf1lecccc]

AM!Fernando Alonso x wife reader. While all the drivers have their annual dj nee together, they have their own diner with the Strolls. Just what I know since him and Lance are not there. Maybe they had kid(s) (you decide) And Lance being their fav uncle. Spending time, banter, sweet. Anything. Thanks!! :))

I’m sorry this is out rather late!! I’m on vacay so hehe

A Night with the Strolls

The annual driver’s DJ night was in full swing, but Fernando had decided to take a different route this year. Instead of joining the usual crowd for the glitzy and glamorous event, he and his wife had a more intimate plan—dinner with the Stroll family. Lance, being a close friend and mentor to Fernando, was like family, and his wife had grown just as fond of him over the years. The kids, their two young children—Mateo, 6, and Isabella, 4—were more than excited to be spending the evening with Uncle Lance.

The evening was filled with laughter and playful banter as the children chased Lance around the house, calling him their personal jungle gym. Lance, with his larger-than-life personality, was their favorite playmate. His laughter was contagious, and they clung to him as though he was the most important person in their world.

“I think I’ve earned the title of ‘Best Uncle’ tonight,” Lance said with a grin, lifting Mateo into the air and giving him an exaggerated spin.

Fernando, watching from the couch with his wife beside him, couldn’t help but smile. “They’ll want you to take them on a road trip next, you know,” he teased, a proud glint in his eyes as his son clung to Lance’s neck.

“Why not? I’ll just kidnap them and take them away for a few days. They’ll love it,” Lance joked, raising both kids high and making airplane sounds.

Fernando’s wife, sitting quietly next to him, couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace as she watched the scene unfold. The laughter of their children, the light-hearted teasing between Lance and Fernando, and the warmth of the Strolls’ family felt like a dream. She had never imagined a life like this. Coming from a broken home, where love had often felt uncertain and fleeting, she never thought she would find herself in the kind of family that Fernando had created. But here she was, surrounded by the kind of warmth and stability she had always longed for.

She turned to Fernando, her heart full. “Look at them,” she said softly, her voice filled with quiet admiration. “They’re so happy. I never thought I would find a family like this.”

Fernando smiled, his gaze never leaving her as he leaned closer. “You gave me everything I never knew I needed. I’m the lucky one.”

As the evening progressed, they shared moments of quiet connection. The kids ran around, laughing and playing, while Fernando and his wife enjoyed the peace and comfort of each other’s company. At one point, Fernando leaned in closer to his wife, his hand finding hers on the table. Their fingers intertwined naturally, as though they had always belonged there.

“Do you ever think about how we ended up here?” Fernando asked, his voice low, almost as if speaking to himself.

She looked at him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think about it all the time,” she replied. “I never imagined I could be this happy, this… whole. When I was younger, love always seemed so fleeting, like something that couldn’t last. But now, with you, it’s different. I feel safe. I feel like I’ve found my home.”

Fernando’s gaze softened as he took a breath, pulling her hand closer to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand, a gesture of love so simple yet so profound. “I was lost, you know. In all the glitz and glamor of racing, the fame, the attention… none of it felt real. None of it meant anything until I found you. You made me feel like I finally had a place, a purpose. When I met you, I finally felt like I was home.”

Her heart melted at his words. She had always known he was a passionate and driven man, but hearing him speak so vulnerably touched her in a way that no victory on the racetrack ever could. “You are my home too, Fernando,” she whispered. “You and our children. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

The connection between them was palpable, a silent understanding that, despite the world around them, this was their safe space, their place of love and trust. He leaned in then, brushing his lips gently against hers in a kiss that felt like a promise. Soft, tender, yet full of all the love he held for her.

They pulled away, but Fernando’s hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jawline. “You are everything to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I could ever ask for. I will always choose you. Always.”

Her eyes shimmered with love as she gazed at him, feeling the depth of his devotion in every word. “And I will always choose you,” she said, her voice steady but full of affection. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Fernando.”

As the evening wore on, the kids grew tired, and Lance’s playful energy began to wind down. They all gathered around the table, enjoying a quiet meal together. Mateo had managed to convince Lance to tell them a new story, a tale of knights and dragons, and even Isabella, usually quiet during dinner, listened with wide-eyed wonder.

Fernando’s wife watched them, taking in the sight of the Stroll family. Lance, ever the jokester, had always been there for Fernando, and it was clear to her how much Lance admired his friend, not just as a teammate, but as a role model, a father figure.

Fernando had often told her that he had always been close to Lance, but she hadn’t realized just how deep their bond ran. Lance saw Fernando as more than just a colleague. He saw him as a mentor, a guide, someone who had been like a brother to him. When they were younger, Lance had looked up to Fernando—admired his success, his drive, and his unwavering loyalty to those he loved. Over time, that admiration had blossomed into a deep friendship, and now, it was clear that Lance adored Fernando like a father.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, man,” Lance had said more than once. “You’ve taught me more than just racing—you’ve taught me what it means to be a man of integrity, to be a good person.”

Fernando had always brushed it off with a laugh, but deep down, he knew how much Lance’s words meant. He had always tried to be a good role model, not just for his kids, but for the people in his life. And seeing Lance with his children—how the kids gravitated toward him, how he genuinely loved them like they were his own—touched him more than he could ever express.

Later, when the kids had been tucked into bed, and the house was quiet, Fernando and his wife took a moment to sit outside on the patio. The stars above them seemed to twinkle in the soft night sky, and a light breeze stirred the air. Fernando pulled her into his arms, wrapping his jacket around her as she nestled closer.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and full of love, “I’d like to have another child. A third one. What do you think?”

Her gaze met his, and she felt a mix of love and uncertainty. “I would love that, Fernando, but I’m not sure I can go through it all again. After… everything we’ve been through. I’m scared.”

Fernando’s expression softened as he kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her in a protective embrace. “You don’t have to be scared. Whatever we decide, I’m here with you. And no matter how many children we have, we’ll have everything we need because we have each other. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her heart swelled at his words. She had always known Fernando was a strong man—on the track, in the spotlight, and in their home—but it was moments like this, when his vulnerability shone through, that made her love him even more.

“I love you so much, Fernando,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You make me feel safe. You make me feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

His lips brushed against her forehead, a soft kiss that spoke of love, of promises made, and of the beautiful life they had created together. “And I will always love you, mi amor. You are my everything.”

As the night continued, Fernando and his wife held each other close, their hearts full of love, their bond stronger than ever. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their family and the quiet of the night, they both knew that no matter what the future held, as long as they had each other, they were home.

[spiderb00]

SANTA DOSEN'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO

Sophia Laforteza X Reader 

“As you drive to Sophia's house, you remember all the times you had together, and you're sure you need to get your girl back” 

Genre – fluff n angst Warnings – none  fruitcake masterlist

Now playing – Santa dosen’t know you like i do, by Sabrina Carpenter 

The streets were full, the bright lights were scattered everywhere, and the Christmas spirit seemed to hover over everyone, all the time. All you wanted was to get to your destination as quickly as possible. Stopping at a red light, you looked at the passenger seat, empty, as did your heart. The feeling of loss beating hard in your chest, and anguish grew with every minute you lost.   

Sophia wasn't by your side, your Sophia. You never thought you were a needy person, nor a clingy person, but now, seeing that you couldn't stay even a week away from your girlfriend, you're not so sure anymore. You were also no longer sure if Sophia was your girlfriend, after all those stupid arguments – which started as bullshit – you were no longer sure of anything. 

You and Sophia have been dating since Dream Academy, and in all that time, you've never had a fight that took more than ten minutes to make up. But here you were, hurrying to find Sophia, just like at the beginning of everything.   

It was late, everything was dark, and you had just parked your car in front of your girlfriend's dorm. Sophia was having one of the worst weeks of her life, the survival show was killing her, physically and emotionally. She had already shared some of her frustrations with you, so you thought of a way to make her more relaxed happy, even if it was for one night.  

Sophia jumped into the passenger seat of your car, the girl's tired countenance quickly being replaced by a smile. Leaning in, you and the Filipina exchanged a passionate kiss, pulling away and driving quickly away from the dorms so as not to be caught by anyone.  

"I was stressed all day. They said it wouldn't be a survival show, and now Lexie is out..." Sophia collapsed as you put your hand on the girl's thigh, to comfort her. "I know this is my dream, but I just want it to end."  

Stopping your car near the beach, you looked at your girlfriend, seeing how much she was struggling. You admire Sophia, you know you couldn't handle even half of what she's going through.    

"Hey, the fact that it's your dream doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time, baby." You said, wiping tears from the Filipino girl's face. "I admire you, Sophia. You're the strongest girl I've ever met.  

Smiling at you, Sophia leaned in, you meeting her on the way, initiating a tender and love-filled kiss, you would always be there for her no matter what. 

After the light turned green, you headed towards the Kats' house, wiping away some tears that insisted on falling from your eyes. You knew that everything happens for the first time, but you swore to yourself that this would be the first and last time you were without your Sophia.  

Everything reminded you of her, all the streets, all the songs that played on your car radio, and even when you tried to connect your playlist, all those songs were recommended by Sophia. It seems that you can't escape your destiny. And when you walked past a cookie shop, you were more and more sure of that statement. 

"Your shirt is all stained with flour." Sophia said, laughing at you like a child.  

All you wanted was to make gingerbread cookies to eat by watching a Christmas movie that was in the catalog on Netflix. Sophia had been recording all day Christmas content with the Kats, and she even came home sad about losing a mixer to Megan. But all the sadness dissipated with laughter and a lot of mess that you made in the kitchen.   

With the cookies now in the oven, Sophia and you took the time to wash the dishes and put away the ingredients that were on the countertop. But it seems that you get distracted every time. 

"Oh, yes?" You asked Sophia, as the girl laughed even more and nodded. "Alright, how about that?" Picking up a handful of flour with your hand, you brought it towards your mouth, blowing it all in the face of your beautiful girlfriend.   

Sophia stopped laughing immediately, and the kitchen, which had previously been filled with laughter from the Filipino girl, was now filled with your laughter. Watching you laugh, Sophia hid the smile that was about to come out, and also took a handful of flour, throwing everything on your head. Stopping laughing, you looked at Sophia, who also looked at you briefly, before running up the stairs to get away from you. 

When you finally parked at the Kats' house, at night it had already fallen, and you were getting out of the car with a bouquet in your hands, ready to have your girl back. Ringing the doorbell, and waiting, you saw a Yoonchae open the door. When the younger girl saw you, a smile came across her face.  

"Yn, you've come! Will you talk to Sophia? Please talk to her!" Laughing lightly at the anxious girl in front of you, you agreed.  

"Yes, I came to talk to her." You said, lifting the bouquet slightly.  

"She's in the room." Yoonchae said, giving way for you to go to where she was indicating. 

Walking to Sophia's room, you took a deep breath, banging on the door, listening to the girl inside tell you to come in. Sticking your head into the room, you saw Sophia sitting on the bed, the little laptop in front of her playing a recording of the two of you in the park at a nice picnic.  

"I loved that day, it was one of the best days of my life." You said, entering the room and closing the door slightly.  

"You spilled all your ice cream on your shirt because you couldn't eat it before it melted." Sophia replied, laughing lightly and trying to covertly wipe away the tears that fell from your eyes. 

"Sophia, I'm sorry-"   

"No, I'm sorry too, and I was being bossy-"  

"No, I should have respected you, I mean, I should have taken your interests more seriously. Sorry, I don't know what got into me." You said. "I realize that I was being selfish, I already called my work and said that I won't be able to work at Christmas. It's okay, they've already managed to replace me, I don't even know why I considered accepting that. Everything I want for my Christmas is in front of me. I love you, Sophia."  

Sophia smiled, a big smile as the woman leaned over and kissed your lips, putting her hands on your cheeks and caressing the spot with her thumb. The kiss was full of passion and longing, trying to make up for all the lost time of these last days. You felt on top of the world, and you promised yourself that you would never do something like that again.   

Santa would never bring you another Sophia, you wouldn't miss this one. 

Just three more stories for fruitcake, tomorrow we will have the angst with Daniela. I am so sad 😭

I'm loving fruitcake, but I want to finish it soon, I really want to focus on the requests

xoxo, spider.

[liyue-harbour]

starry-eyed & smug

wriothesley x reader, established relationship

summary: you noticed that wriothesley's been extra busy lately, so you decide to take him out for a picnic after things settled.

the night in fontaine was tranquil, a rare moment of calm after a day filled with the steady hum of city life. the usual hum of the city fades into the background, leaving only the soft lapping of water from the canals and the distant sound of chattering. you and wriothesley had left the fortress to enjoy a moment of quiet, tucked far enough out of sight to escape the endless responsibilities that always seemed to weigh on him.

the picnic was supposed to be a quick, casual thing—just some pastries some tea—but of course, wriothesley insisted on carrying the basket himself. you hadn’t even had the chance to protest before he’d made some smart remark about how it was 'too heavy' for you, even though the thing was light as a feather.

now, as you sat beside him, leaning against a stone bench by the canal, the last crumbs of your pastry scattered between the two of you, the quiet was almost too perfect. there was a full moon tonight, casting everything in a soft, silvery glow. fontaine looked especially beautiful from here, the canals lit up by lanterns and the city alive with a quiet hum from afar.

you’d been stealing glances at him for a while now—sometimes out of the corner of your eye, other times a little too obviously when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. but wriothesley always seemed to notice.

“you’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes,” he said, his tone relaxed but with a hint of amusement in it.

you froze, mid-reach for your cup of tea. crap.

“i wasn’t staring,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out way too fast. you tried to play it cool, glancing back at the distant lights on the canal like they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “i was just admiring the view.”

wriothesley raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into that teasing half-smile that always made your heart race. "the view, huh?” his voice was laced with a teasing edge. “not me?”

you quickly glanced away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. “yeah, the view. the actual view.” you muttered, but the words lacked their usual confidence.

wriothesley couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rich and comforting in the air. he shifted slightly, closing the gap between you, his shoulder brushing against yours. he didn't need to say anything; the way he was looking at you now told you everything. you were definitely caught.

your heart skipped, and you could feel the flush creeping up your neck. you opened your mouth to protest but found yourself at a loss for words, unable to tear your gaze from his teasing smirk.

“not going to deny it, are you?” he continued, his voice lowering in that calm, confident way that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. "you got a soft spot for me?"

you bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “it's not like you don't know... what's it to you?"

wriothesley didn't even hesitate. "nothing at all," he said, the warmth in his voice deepening. "you already know i have a soft spot for you, too."

you swallowed, pulse quickening at his words. even after everything— after all the moments you’d shared, the stolen glances, and the kisses— you still couldn’t get used to how the simplest words from him could make your heart flutter.

for a few moments, neither of you said anything. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though. it was the kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. just the sound of the water and the distant bustle of fontaine’s city life in the background.

then wriothesley nudged you again, just lightly this time, and you looked up to find him smiling that knowing smile of his. “well,” he began, voice still soft, “if you're going to keep staring at me, at least i should make it worth your while, right?”

you raised an eyebrow at him, though you sure pretty sure where this was going. “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

before you could confirm your suspicions, wriothesley leaned in, lips crashing onto yours, soft and slow, under the moonlit sky. when he pulled away, one hand brushes your lower lip while the other moves to wrap around your waist. “i’d say that’s worth a few stares, wouldn’t you?”

© liyue-harbour 2024 | masterlist

[moonlightdreamzz]

late nights — bang chan, hyunjin, wooyoung, and niki. ♡

it feels so good to be seen and loved, especially after an exhausting day.

bang chan

truthfully, you don’t even know how you made it here in one piece—here, being chris’ studio. utterly exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it, but the day is finally over, and you’re holding onto that small grace. not like you have much of a choice, right?

your eyes flutter shut for just a second as you lean against the door, the light thud startling you back to the moment. you laugh quietly at yourself, embarrassed by how ready your body was to believe this was the end of the day, before finally pushing the door open.

you and chris share the same curse: you work too hard, and far too much. so, it doesn’t surprise you to see him exactly as you left him this morning—headphones on, hunched over his computer, eyes flickering across the screen. even from the doorway, you can hear the bass pumping loud enough to feel it in your chest.

you weren’t planning on saying anything. the couch beside his desk had your name written all over it, and all you wanted was to curl up and let sleep take over until he was ready to leave. but somehow, you find enough strength to call out to him.

“baby.”

it’s almost immediate, the way his head snaps toward you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on yours. it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. his headphones are off in seconds, tossed carelessly onto the desk. that alone tells you everything—he must think you look even worse than you feel.

he doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms wide, inviting you in. and how could you ever say no to him? you drag your feet across the room, collapsing into his lap without a second thought. his arms wrap around you tightly, and for the first time all day, you feel like you can finally exhale.

“you had a long day, didn’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

all you can do is nod, burying yourself deeper into his neck. he smells just like he did this morning, warm and familiar, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. neither of you moves for what feels like forever, but it’s the kind of forever you could get used to. his touch says everything words can’t—how much he missed you, how much he hates seeing you this tired, how much he loves you.

you want to tell him you should go home, that you need a proper bed, but you can’t. you know how important his work is, and you’d never forgive yourself for making him feel guilty about staying.

but then his voice breaks the silence, low and soft. “i think i’m done for the night.”

your head snaps up, searching his face for any sign he’s joking. “no, baby. i’m fine. keep working,” you say quickly, even as your body betrays you and leans back into his chest. the guilt creeps up before you can stop it.

his thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes lock on yours with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “the only thing i want to do is go home, run you a bath, and hold you while you fall asleep. this can wait until tomorrow. you’re the most important thing to me, and i need you to know that.”

he kisses you softly, and when he pulls back, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “besides,” he adds with a wink, “if i don’t take care of you, who’s going to remind me to take care of myself?”

hyunjin

you and your man were both terribly sleepy babies. no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for each other on late nights, one of you always gave in first. it was a routine by now: a simple “i love you” text signaling surrender to the pull of a memory foam mattress or an irresistibly soft couch. there was never any guilt, just understanding.

but this month? this month has been unrelenting. you’ve been in full girl boss mode, pushing through deadlines and back-to-back meetings, while hyunjin has been caught up in the chaos of a comeback. you can’t even remember the last time you sat down together for dinner, watched a show, or just existed in the same moment. you miss it. you miss him.

when his schedule was calmer, hyunjin stayed with you as much as he could. but now, the dorm has him locked down. as you punch in your door code, you sigh, already feeling the emptiness of your apartment. you wish he were here—even if it meant finding him passed out on the couch, mouth slightly open, barely coherent as you whispered him awake and tugged him to bed

tonight, though, there’s no detour. no lingering in the kitchen or collapsing on the couch. you head straight to your room, already peeling off your jacket as you close the door behind you. exhaustion weighs heavy on you, but something feels… off.

your heart stutters. someone’s here.

you freeze. open your eyes, idiot, you scold yourself. slowly, you do, and your breath catches in your throat

there, glowing like a dream, stands hyunjin. a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his smile stretching so wide his eyes crinkle shut. he’s radiant, like he stepped out of your imagination, but he’s real.

“baby,” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. “what… how are you here? i thought—”

you don’t get the words out, too stunned to string them together. he steps closer, slow and steady, placing the roses and wine into your hands before cupping your face and kissing you, soft and sure. his lips feel like coming home

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your ear. “it’s been hell not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. i’ve been trying so hard to wait, but when i called you this morning and heard how tired you sounded… i had to be here. i couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment tonight.

you melt into his arms, burying your face in his chest as his words sink in. “i knew it,” you say suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smirk spreading across your face. “you really can’t stay away from me. i’m irresistible, huh?”

he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and rich, making his whole body shake as he leans his forehead against yours. “shut up,” he grins, but his eyes are so full of love you can feel it in your bones.

The he cups your face again, pressing his lips back to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. this one is different—hungrier, deeper, filled with everything he’s been holding back. his right hand gently takes the flowers and wine from you, tossing them onto the couch as if they’re the least important thing in the world.

“you’ve been stressed too, baby,” you murmur between kisses, your hands sliding up his chest as he pulls you closer. “you want me to make it better? take your mind off everything?”

“please,” he breathes, the single word trembling with desperation.

and that’s all it takes for the two of you to let go of everything else—the stress, the distance, the long days apart. tonight, it’s just you and him.

wooyoung

i know that the last conversation we had didn’t end on a good note. and i know you’re still trying to process everything going on with us and probably don’t want to see me. but I can’t help but feel like you’re exhausted and need something to take your mind off of everything you have going on right now. regardless of what we’re going through rn, i love you and I’ll always be here to make things better.

your heart aches as you read wooyoung’s text.

i’m outside. take your time. i’ll wait for you.

you didn’t think you’d hear from him tonight—not after the way your last conversation had ended. but that’s wooyoung, always showing up when you need him most, even when things between you feel fragile and uncertain.

you grab your jacket and step outside, the chill in the air catching you off guard. but then you see him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, his hair a little messy, his expression soft despite the exhaustion etched into it.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world stills.

without a word, he opens the car door for you. as you slide into the passenger seat, you feel the familiar warmth of his presence settle over you like a blanket. he gets in, shutting the door gently, and the two of you sit there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“you didn’t have to come,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he turns to you, his gaze steady, his hand already reaching for yours. “yes, i did.” his tone is quiet but firm, like he needs you to believe it

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, and it’s enough to unravel the tight knot in your chest.

“i know it’s been rough lately,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “but no matter what we’re going through, i can’t stand the thought of you sitting at home feeling this way. you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here. always.”

you close your eyes, his words sinking into the deepest parts of you.

he leans over, pulling you into his arms, and it’s like you’re a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. his embrace is so warm, so full of everything he can’t quite say, and you don’t realize how much you needed it until you’re here, breathing him in.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i should’ve brought a blanket.”

you let out a soft laugh, your breath brushing against his collarbone. “you’re the blanket.”

he smiles against your hair, holding you a little tighter. “good. then i’m not letting go.”

for a long time, you just sit there, his arms wrapped around you, his hand gently tracing soothing patterns along your back. it’s so quiet, but the silence is full of him—his love, his care, his determination to make sure you feel safe, even when things between you aren’t perfect.

“thank you for coming,” you whisper after a while, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’ll always come,” he replies, his lips brushing against your forehead. “no matter what’s happening. you’re my person.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. whatever else you have to figure out, whatever else you have to say, you can face it together.

for now, this is enough. this is everything.

niki

the studio was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel how tired you really were. your body ached, your mind felt heavy, and the only thing keeping you upright was the cool press of the mirror at your back.

you closed your eyes, just for a second, and let out a sigh.

“you always look like you’re about to fall apart after practice,” a familiar voice teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

your eyes snapped open, and when you saw him standing there in the doorway, you actually laughed out loud.

“niki?” you said, your voice pitching higher in disbelief. “what the—how did you even get in here?”

he grinned, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place, hands stuffed casually into his hoodie pockets. “i have my ways.”

“your ways?” you repeated, still laughing, though your exhaustion made it sound a little delirious. “what, did you sneak past security?”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “you’d be surprised what a little charm can do.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

niki stepped into the room then, pulling a takeout bag from behind his back like it was some big reveal. “anyway, i figured you might be hungry. you were going on and on about this the other day, so…”

you blinked at him, your chest tightening. “you remembered that?”

niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. ���obviously. i’m not as clueless as you think.”

he walked over and sat down beside you, his legs stretching out across the floor. the bag landed in your lap, and the smell alone was enough to make your stomach growl.

“you didn’t have to,” you murmured, though you were already pulling the container out.

“yeah, well,” he said, leaning back against the mirror with a shrug, “i wanted to.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you forgot how exhausted you were. his face was calm, but his eyes were soft, like he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had.

“thanks, niki,” you said quietly.

he waved it off like it was nothing, but the tips of his ears were pink, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant.

“you worked hard today,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “but you always do.”

you smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

niki’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it is,” he said firmly. “you are.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t. you just opened the container, took a bite, and let the warmth of the food—and his presence—melt away the edges of your day.

he didn’t say anything else, just stayed there beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed when one of you moved.

and maybe you were both too scared to say it out loud, too scared to ruin whatever this was, but in that moment, you knew: he was your safe place. and maybe, just maybe, you were his too.

[wandering-winchesters]

First Moments: Hug

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: The first time Dean hugs you. A/N: I am going to keep it going! Please let me know if you have any suggestions for "Firsts"! Word Count: 1,143

The dusty Kansas sunset painted the world in streaks of orange and purple as you stood outside the small, dilapidated diner in Lebanon. You’d been on the road for weeks, chasing a string of supernatural leads that didn’t pan out, and your frustration had finally caught up with you. The Winchester brothers were somewhere inside, sharing a rare moment of peace over greasy burgers and fries. You’d been tagging along with them for a few months now, after a chance encounter during a hunt in South Dakota.

At first, you weren’t sure how long the partnership would last. Dean, ever the protective big brother, had been wary of letting a stranger join their team. You were no stranger to the life, though—you had your scars, both physical and emotional, to prove it. Still, earning Dean’s trust felt like climbing an impossibly high mountain. He was guarded, sharp-tongued, and carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, a fact you’d come to realize more deeply as time went on.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—he just didn’t trust easily. You’d seen glimpses of his softer side: the way he’d check on Sam when he thought no one was looking, the gruff jokes he used to break tension, and the rare moments when his walls came down just enough to reveal the man beneath the hunter. But a hug? That seemed as unlikely as a demon voluntarily taking a salt bath.

You leaned against the Impala, arms crossed, staring out at the quiet stretch of road. Your mind wandered to the hunt you’d botched last week—a werewolf case in Nebraska. It should’ve been straightforward, but a moment of hesitation on your part had nearly cost Sam his life. Dean hadn’t said much about it afterward, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. You’d been carrying the guilt ever since, and tonight it felt heavier than ever.

The door to the diner creaked open, and Dean stepped out. His leather jacket was slung over one shoulder, and he had that familiar look of suspicion and curiosity on his face.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or what?” he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean wasn’t the kind of guy you could fool with small talk or half-hearted excuses. He saw through people like glass.

He approached slowly, his boots crunching on the gravel. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, leaning against the car next to you. “Quieter than usual, I mean. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, debating whether to brush it off or let him in. Finally, you sighed. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” he quipped, though his tone lacked its usual edge. When you didn’t laugh, he frowned. “Come on, out with it. What’s eating you?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the genuine concern in his eyes. It wasn’t often that Dean let himself be openly vulnerable, even in the smallest ways. “It’s that hunt in Nebraska,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I screwed up, Dean. If you hadn’t been there, Sam might’ve—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not harsh. “Sam’s fine. You’re fine. That’s what matters.”

“But it was my fault,” you insisted, the guilt bubbling to the surface. “I froze up, and—”

“And you’re human,” he said, cutting you off again. “It happens. Trust me, I’ve made more mistakes than I can count. You learn from it and move on.”

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “I just... I don’t want to be a liability. You and Sam, you’ve been doing this your whole lives. I don’t want to be the reason something goes wrong.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “Listen, this life? It’s not easy. Hell, it’s damn near impossible sometimes. But you’re part of the team now, and we’ve got your back. You’re not a liability. You’re family.”

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. Family. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since you’d lost your parents to a demon when you were a teenager. Not since you’d been hunting alone, keeping people at arm’s length because getting close to anyone felt like a risk you couldn’t afford to take.

Dean must have noticed the look on your face because he shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Look, I’m not great at this touchy-feely stuff, but... I mean it. You’re family. And family doesn’t bail when things get tough.”

Something in you broke at those words. The tears you’d been holding back for weeks spilled over, and you quickly turned away, embarrassed. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice gentle now. Before you could protest, he reached out and pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t one of those quick, awkward pats on the back you’d expect from someone like Dean. It was solid, grounding, and full of unspoken emotion. His arms were strong around you, steadying you as you let yourself cry against his chest. You could feel the warmth of his leather jacket, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the faint scent of motor oil and whiskey that clung to him like a second skin.

For a moment, the world stopped. The weight of your guilt, your fears, your loneliness—it all seemed to fade in the safety of his embrace. Dean didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. The hug said it all: You’re not alone. You’re not a failure. You’re family.

When you finally pulled away, his hands lingered on your shoulders, grounding you. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice gruff but kind.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean.”

He gave you a small smile, the kind that didn’t come around often but lit up his whole face when it did. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Ever.”

That earned a laugh from you, and the tension between you eased. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

Dean patted the hood of the Impala, his way of signaling that the moment was over. “Come on,” he said, opening the passenger door. “Sam’s probably eaten all the fries by now, but maybe we can grab some pie for the road.”

You climbed into the car, feeling lighter than you had in days. As the Impala roared to life and the brothers started bickering over music choices, you found yourself smiling. The road ahead would still be hard, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you were facing it alone.

Dean didn’t hug often, but when he did, it mattered. And in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter

[captain-hawks]

hiii Dee!! for your holiday drabbles, maaayybeeee accidentally standing under mistletoe with Meian? 🤭

no questions asked 🎀 meian shugo x f!reader

Spending Christmas Eve with your cheating ex-fiancé is no longer an option, so a party at Atsumu's will just have to do.

1.3k — msby manager!reader, angst and fluff

It’s a little embarrassing—thinking about how you should be out for dinner with your fiancé and his parents right now. 

How you should be planning a wedding that’ll take place in the new year. 

How, instead, you’re standing in the middle of Miya Atsumu’s apartment wearing the same red dress you picked out for a very different occasion, ring finger now entirely devoid of a weight you were once familiar with for the past five months.

While the Black Jackals tried not to pry into the mortifying details of your breakup when you showed up for practice uncharacteristically late one morning two weeks ago with eyes ringed red after a sleepless night, Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu were all wholly insistent that their team manager couldn’t spend Christmas Eve alone. 

(They’d let Coach Foster off easy when he politely declined the invite to tonight’s party, but you? Not so much.)

(Bokuto’s known you since your Fukurodani days, after all, since you were a year ahead of him on the girl’s volleyball team.)

Which now finds you here, leaning against the doorway that separates the living room from the kitchen, fingers curled loosely around the sweaty neck of a bottle of beer. 

“I never liked him, ya know,” Atsumu’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 

You turn to face the setter, brows raised in mock amusement. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

You met Ren a year or so after you started working for MSBY, after you’d already grown close with the team, and he got down on one knee just over six months later. 

And now—

“He never liked showin’ his face at games, that cheatin’ bastard. He probably knew we’d see it on his stupid face and pummel his ass.”

Sighing, you nod in a disconnected way, taking a swig from your bottle before placing it down on a table nearby. 

You hadn’t gotten into the rest of the details—how the marketing executive had been sleeping with his eighteen-year-old intern for the entirety of your relationship.

How he was only proposing to you to appease his father for the sake of inheriting his company.

How everything was a lie—

How—

“Atsumu.”

Something prickles along the back of your neck at the sound of Meian’s voice, his tone stern as he approaches.

Atsumu perks up. “And I bet Meian woulda really loved to beat his—”

“Bokuto’s two seconds from puking on your bed,” Meian cuts him off brusquely, sliding into the spot where the blonde was standing as he scurries off, eyes going wide in concern.

You shake your head, offering a genuine smile to the team captain and trying to ignore the long-ignored warmth that rustles in your chest as he looks at you.

“Really?”

He shakes his head, the curve of his mouth matching your own. “Nah, but I know he gets annoying when he’s drunk. And I know that’s the last thing you want to talk about right now.”

Meian has always had a way of reading you, of knowing what you need. 

And you know that, logically, it’s just something that comes naturally to him as a captain. He does it with his team all the time.

But it still does something odd to your fragile heart anyway—the way he notices you.

Bokuto’s sworn this secret (which you accidentally shared after too many drinks one night) to the grave, this stupid little crush that you have on the team captain. One that sprouted long before Ren came into the picture.

One that you were quick to pluck, to try digging out at the roots before it could blossom. 

Part of you is loath to admit that you were inclined to reciprocate Ren’s advances solely in an effort to get over these feelings. 

Feelings that came boiling right back to the surface the night after that teary-eyed practice when your phone lit up with a text from the captain.

MEIAN: I’m not going to ask about things you’re not ready to answer. MEIAN: But if you need help, a hand, or anything, let me know, and I’m there.  MEIAN: No questions asked.

Meian stayed true to his word when you subsequently texted him an address and asked him to bring his pick up truck. 

He didn’t dig for details when you swung open the door to your shared apartment with Ren and gestured at the boxes you’d packed. 

Truthfully, you didn’t know who else to call.

You didn’t know who else would let you sniffle and struggle your way through it all without prying. Without pushing. Without batting an eye when you asked if he could grab things from the closet you couldn’t bear to look back into again. 

Without asking for all of the sordid details of your fiancé’s affair that still find you dry heaving in the bathroom most nights. 

You didn’t have much, the apartment and furniture was Ren’s to begin with.

He helped you move across town back to your parents place with the promise that he’d help again when you found an apartment. 

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” you exhale, and Meian nods in understanding as you smooth your fingertips down the skirt of your dress. “But when I am…”

He waits patiently as you trail off, eyes offering a comfort that’s always been there, that feels like a balm now against the frayed edges of your rattled nerves.

“...I’d like to tell you,” you finish, nervously pinching the material’s hem. 

Meian smiles. “I’ll be here.”

And it’s then that you feel something light hit your head, and you glance around to find a plastic sprig of mistletoe rolling away on the floor. 

“Really?” you choke out a weak laugh.

You don’t immediately look up at Meian. Because while it feels almost childish, the back of your neck burns anyway with the implication behind the silly tradition. 

It wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve found yourself wondering what his lips would feel like against your own. Wondering if he’d cup the back of your head or stroke your jaw. If he’d part the seam of your lips with his tongue and run his thumb against your chin as you melt into his touch. 

Wondering what it would feel like to jump into his arms after a win, to wrap your legs around his waist, to drag your fingers through his sweaty, messy hair and laugh in a mess of tongue and teeth as someone tells you both to get a room while he presses you up against a wall—

You’re tugged away from that train of thought by the feeling of Meian’s large hand taking your own, and your eyes go wide as he lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to them.

“Rules are rules,” he shrugs, offering you a lopsided grin that has no right being that handsome under the multi-colored glow of string lights that adorns the living room.

Overcome by a fleeting surge of confidence as your heart flutters wildly in your chest, your fingers find a home curled in the collar of Meian’s button-down shirt before you can think better of it.

“Captain, I thought you followed rules to a T,” you tease in a voice that feels almost foreign on your lips.

But you’re too caught up in the moment to second guess yourself.

Meian leans in as you tug him closer, and you sway a little, steadied only by his hand as it comes to rest against your waist. Gently, featherlight—as if he’s still waiting for you to change your mind.

He quietly says, “You’re the manager here, maybe I need a refresher.”

His breath is hot as it curls against your lips in the scant space left between your faces.

Your mouth brushes against his, and you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Like this?” he murmurs, fingers curling and pressing the fabric of your dress.

“Yes,” you breathe out, and Meian’s other hand slides to the back of your head as he kisses you.

[duskandcobalt]

somebody else

Merry Christmas @whysterian ✨🎄

For your Christmas present, I’ve written something that’s both sweet and a little angsty which I feel fits the general vibe of Elriel as a pair anyway ☺️

I hope you enjoy this! Happy @acotargiftexchange

Xoxo your secret santa🎅🏽

1.6 words, no warnings ☺️

Elain giggled into the chest of the Shadowsinger the second his bedroom door had shut behind them.

She’d been making her way back to bed after dinner, tiptoeing down the hallway… purposefully slowing down as she passed the door of the room he was inhabiting for the night, in the hopes that he’d do exactly what he’d done. There was no fear, only absolute happiness that built inside her in the split second it had taken for the door to open and a strong arm to wrap around her middle and pull her inside. There’d been no indication that he’d be waiting for her, but she knew. In her heart, in her bones - Elain knew he’d be waiting and listening for the sound of her footsteps to pass by his door.

“Happy Solstice, pretty girl.” Azriel whispered, one scarred hand sliding up her neck until he could tilt her jaw upwards so her lips met his. He’d wasted no time, the wish just barely leaving his mouth before he kissed her. It was sweet, tender, thorough - his other hand placed safely on her waist, his fingertips easily stretching to press gently against the small of her back.

She’d waited all night for this. To have a moment alone - just the two of them - unbeknownst to anyone else. It had been a torturous evening of avoiding eye contact, of pretending like the two of them hadn’t spent the last few months sneaking off to dark corners of the house or hidden sections of the garden whenever they got the chance. After the debacle last solstice, Elain had thought everything was done between them before they’d even had a chance to start but she soon found out that she’d been wrong. With the full story in the open between them, she’d only come to realise that Azriel hated being told what to do… something that had worked very, very well in her favour because it meant that when he’d come back to Velaris a couple weeks after that ill-fated night, he’d made it quite clear that he was determined to have her.

“Happy Solstice, Azriel.” Elain smiled against his mouth, pressing a hand against his chest to put some semblance of space between them before things got out of control as it tended to whenever they were left alone too long. There’d be time for that later but there were other things that needed to be done first. “I’ve got something for you…”

“Oh yeah?” He tried pulling her closer but she peeled back again, shaking her head and laughing at the mischievous look in his eyes. She loved this side of him - the playful easiness he seemed to reserve just for her.

“Mhm,” Elain bit her lip, doing her best to concentrate on the task at hand and not on the look he was giving her lest she abandon everything and let him have his way with her. She reached into the hidden pocket of her dress, slipping out a small box she’d carefully wrapped late last night and holding it out to him.

“Didn’t have to get me anything…” Azriel smiled, carefully taking the box from her and weighing it in his palm. “Earbuds, headache tonic… what will this year bring, I wonder?”

Elain sighed, impatient as Azriel took his time carefully unwrapping the present. Her nerves were getting the best of her.

“It’s really for us, more than anything. I mean it’s mine but for us to share…” her voice drifted off, quiet as Azriel picked up a small silver key and held it in between his fingers. There was a crease on his forehead as he looked at her, waiting for an explanation. She wanted to soothe away the line with her fingers.

“The bakery I like in town… there’s an apartment a couple floors above it. I… I bought it.”

“You bought an apartment?” Azriel asked, turning the key over in his hand. “For us?”

“It’s silly…” Elain shook her head, suddenly feeling like she’d made a massive mistake. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking when signed the papers and handed over the money. They’d spoken about one day having a place to themselves, where they wouldn’t have to worry about others seeing or hearing them and so she’d thought it would be a good idea. “I’m sorry, I just… it’s getting crowded here and I thought it’d be nice to have a place of my own. Somewhere we could go every now and then.”

“Hey,” Azriel stepped towards her, reaching forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not silly. It’s just… it’s really going to put my present to shame.”

Azriel chuckled as he pulled a small pouch from his back pocket and handed it to her.

Elain took it, opening it to find an ornate hair pin fashioned into the shape of wild flowers. It was beautiful, the tiny stones glimmering in the dim light of the room.

“That feels silly now,” he laughed, slipping the hair pin from her hand and then reaching behind her to wind her hair up before securing it in place. He looked her over, his eyes slowly scanning over her face and her newly exposed throat. “Perfect.”

“It’s lovely, thank you.” Elain wound her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Shall we go see this apartment now?” Azriel asked just as she felt him drag the key he still held up the length of her spine.

“Can you winnow us there?” She asked, heat and excitement building in her belly with each passing second.

…

Azriel could barely stand to be in the room this year, once again relegated to standing in the shadowed doorway as the festivities unfolded before him.

There was no excitement this year. No anticipation of sweeping a certain sister into his room after everyone else had gone to bed - happily drunk and bellies full, their newly acquired gifts scattered in front of the fireplace where they’d be collected the next morning. That anticipation was in the past. Now, he watched as his closest friends enjoyed the night. Watched as the love of his life sat still as a stone next to the male that had won in the end.

Azriel had fooled himself for the better part of three years. Had somehow tricked himself into thinking that for once, he could have what his heart desired despite all the extenuating factors against him. He’d thought that this would be it, that he’d finally been chosen. That he’d finally gotten the life that he’d always secretly dreamed of having. Of a female to come home to. A female to cherish. Someone that understood him.

The rug had been pulled out from under him one evening when Elain had stood in front of him uncharacteristically stone faced as she told him they couldn’t keep doing what they’d been doing and that it was time for her to accept what the Cauldron had planned for her.

A life away from him. A life with a son of Autumn.

He hadn’t been able to say anything. Hadn’t even really tried to argue that she was making a mistake. How could he when far in the back of his mind, a small part of him always knew that this had always been too good to be true.

For months now, he’d avoided her. Had been able to drown himself in work - throwing every bit of time and energy he had into his reports and assignments in order to keep his mind off of everything he’d lost because if he thought about it too much, he’d go crazy. Much like he was now.

He’d tried. He really had. He’d tried to not watch her from the second she walked into the River House with her arm looped through Lucien’s. But it was a lost cause because just like the very first time he’d met her, she’d drawn his attention with little to no effort. She was beautiful. Ethereal. There could be a thousand females in a room and Azriel would find her within seconds. He’d been quietly observing her all night, making sure she seemed okay. Making sure she seemed happy.

Elain on the other hand had refused to even look in his direction after an initial polite greeting and he’d given up after a while, had taken to sulking in the shadows as he nursed a tumbler of whisky and avoided making eye contact with Nesta. That sister in particular had an uncanny ability to read him when no one else could and he hated it.

It wasn’t until he’d overheard the tail end of a conversation that he dared to look at Elain again.

“I have to head back to the Spring Court tonight, unfortunately.” Lucien had said.

“Oh, what a shame,” Feyre pouted. “I was looking forward to spending time with my sister before you two wed.”

“Well,” Elain’s voice pierced Azriel’s heart. It’d been so long since he’d heard that gentle voice so clearly. Paired with Feyre’s reminder of the upcoming mating ceremony, it was like a dagger to the heart. “Lucien’s going back but I… I thought I’d stay behind but I… I, um… I’ve arranged for a place to stay in town for a couple nights so that I’ll be out of your way but I’ll come visit during the day.”

Azriel’s breath halted as Elain’s gaze lifted suddenly, her eyes meeting his for one searing moment before she returned her attention to Feyre who’d squealed at the news and had immediately set to planning what they could do with their time together.

He could’ve been imagining it - the invitation he thought he might’ve seen in that short glimpse they’d shared. They’d always had a knack for communicating their thoughts and needs with few words actually spoken aloud. But it wasn’t until Elain stood abruptly, heading for the kitchen, that he caught a glimpse of the pin nestled into her dark curls. A delicate bunch of wildflowers that was as familiar as the key he swore he could feel warming his skin from where it still resided in his back pocket.

[spencerreidsrightsock]

Needy

Summary: since Spencer is gone a lot for work, you take matters into your own hands and get a sex toy. Spencer tells you he’d be home late one night, he shows up earlier to surprise you but catches you in the act.

TW! MDNI!! 18+ SMUTSoft!dom!Spencer, sub!reader, Spencer gets jealous, lowkey possessive?, dirty talking, DADDY KINK! sex toys, mutual masturbation, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink kind of, anything else I missed.

This was not requested. I just have a dirty mind🥲

Pairing: Soft!dom! Spencer x sub!reader

Spencer was gone away on a case, you were needy one night on his last trip so you ordered a dildo and a bullet vibrator. You didn’t think Spencer would have an issue with it so it never came up in conversation when he was home.

One night you were incredibly needy for him. He was in Michigan on a case and you texted him, “when are you going to be home? I need you Spence” he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he was in the SUV headed to the airport to get on their jet. He took his phone out and smiled at your text, “I’ll be home tonight but it will be later, probably around 2” he typed. Back at home you picked your phone back up and let out a sigh. “Okay, be safe. I love you” you texted back and threw your phone somewhere on the bed.

You let out a sigh, standing up out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen and made yourself a cup of warm tea. You went into the living room and turned on your favorite tv show trying to push the dirty and needy thoughts to the back of your head.

You sat up for almost an hour before realizing it wasn’t going to help and you needed to take matters into your own hands. You always tried to wait it out til Spencer was there, but this time you failed. You stood from the couch and walked into your shared room with Spencer. You kneeled down to your nightstand and pulled out your toys.

Little did you know spencer was getting off of the jet and getting into the car, only 15 minutes from your shared apartment.

You turned on the bullet and placed it on your aching clit. You arched your back and let out a moan. After a few minutes of edging yourself you grabbed the dildo and slid it between your folds, dipping it into the most needy part of you. You moaned feeling it stretch you out, a stretch that reminded you of Spencer.

“Fuck” you moaned out, too deep into your desires, you failed to hear the front doorknob unlock. Spencer quietly crept into the apartment placing his go bag down on the floor by the kitchen table. He heard you sighing and cocked his head.

He made it to your room and opened the door. You shot up, acting like a teen who had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. He walked over beside the bed and flicked on the lamp. “What are you doing y/n?” He said kneeling down beside you. “Spencer i needed you so badly” you said breathlessly. “So we’re playing with ourself, are we?” He says with a devilish grin.

He slowly peels back the cover to reveal the bullet in your hand and the dildo deep in your pussy. “Oh what do we have here y/n? You been a bad girl while I was gone?” He says looking into your dark eyes. “Spencer I’ve only used this twice I promise” you promise him. “Darling, I’m not mad. I think it’s hot you need me this much” he says chuckling.

You pull out the dildo and place it on the table beside you, “did I tell you to stop?” He asks you sitting on your vanity chair, ridding himself of his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving himself in only his boxers.

“Keep fucking yourself with it.” He spits out pulling his cock out of his boxers. “I want to see you please yourself.” He finished. You grabbed the dildo again, sliding it into yourself, you pumped it into you faster and faster. He spit on his hand and grabbed his cock pumping his hand around it, listening to the noise your pussy made as you fucked yourself.

A few moments passed by and he broke the silence, “stop, y/n, I want you to put it on the wall and fuck your self back onto it.” He spits out breathlessly. You obeyed him and pulled it from you, standing up, you walked to the wall near him and suction cupped it. You turned around and bent over and grabbed the base of the dildo and slid back on it.

“Fuck Spence” you screamed out. This angle was so much better that you’d imagined. He continued pumping his cock in his fist, he leaned over and reached between your thighs and found your clit. He began to circle it with his finger. You started slamming back onto the dildo faster, moans slipping past your lips. He sped up his assault on your clit. “Fuck spencer I’m gonna cum” you yelled out.

He pumped his cock faster in his hand and stood up to come in front of you. Without him saying a word you placed your lips around the head of his cock, circling your tongue around it. Moments later you both came. He came in your mouth and he grabbed onto you to hold you steady as you rode out your orgasm, with shaky legs.

He pulled you off of the dildo and helped you to the bed. You fell onto the bed with your ass hanging off the edge of it. “I want your cock now Spence,” you said smiling up at him. “When I say so” he said bringing his fingers to your dripping pussy. He plunged two fingers inside of you, pumping them so fast and curling his fingers hitting your g spot. “Fuck spencer I’m going to cum again.” You moaned out, bringing your hands to get tangled in his hair. And with that you came on his fingers.

He pulled them out, “open up” he said bringing his fingers to your mouth. You licked yourself off of his fingers. He dives between your thighs to lick a singular strip up your slit. “Taste so good baby” he says coming back up to line his cock up with your entrance.

With one hard and fast thrust he slams into you, all of the way. “Fuck spencer” you moan out throwing your hands up to his chest. “You fuck my pussy so good” you finish. “This pussy belongs to me. It’s mine and only mine” he says. He dives down to your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth lightly biting and sucking on it. He swirls his tongue around it and it makes you arch your back. He does the same to the other one.

He continues to fuck into you at an inhumane pace as his fingers fondle with your nipples. “My beautiful baby girl, perfectly made for daddy’s cock,” he says smiling at you. “I want you to cum inside of me daddy, deep inside of me” you say breathlessly.

And with that he brings his finger to your clit and starts rubbing over the bundle of nerves which leaves you a moaning mess, “cum on daddy’s cock, baby” he says choking back his own moans. And with that you cum around his cock, you feel your slick drip down your bottom. He slams into you twice more and stills, feeling his cock pulsate and spirts of cum hit the threshold of your cervix, you let out another moan, “so warm”

He collapses some of his body weight on top of you and after a few minutes he becomes lively again, he pulls his head up from your shoulder and looks deep into your eyes, “I love you so much y/n”. He says kissing your lips. “I love you too Spence.” You say back returning the kiss.

He slips out of you and cum starts gushing from your pussy. You moan at the loss of contact, wishing he could stay hurried inside of you forever. He leaves and comes back with a wet rag to clean you up with. He goes back into the bathroom and cleans himself up. He comes back, turns off the light, and lays down beside you.

He turns on his side and pulls you closer to him. “Goodnight baby” he says kissing your lips. “Goodnight Spence” you say back. After a few moments your breath evens out and he knows your asleep. He presses a kiss onto your four head before sleep overcomes him too.

[aerynwrites]

Peace

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting anything lately lol - my writing motivation has been in the toilet. But hopefully it's back now and I just had to get this little piece out for the holidays. I hope you enjoy! Word Count: 4k Warnings: so much fluff, fluff galore, fluff mountain, slightly insecure simon, (possibly ooc simon??), mentions of praying before a meal, again just lots of fluff.

Simon “Ghost” Riley doesn’t get nervous. 

Nerves, anxiety, fear - it was all beat out of him by his piece-of-shit excuse for a father. Then further beat out of him in the military. Nervousness died with the first Simon Riley, buried six feet underground never to be heard from again.

So why the bloody fuck are his hands sweating?

He’s wiped them on the fabric of his jeans at least a dozen times as they drive down the desolate stretch of road in nowhere Scotland. Johnny talking his ear off the whole time - mostly about his family. 

The family Simon is about to meet. 

Fuck…what was he thinking, agreeing to this?

Thinking you don’t want to be alone again on the holidays, that’s what.

Simon shakes his head, chasing the thought away as quick as it’d come. 

He’s been alone all his life. He didn’t need anyone. Yet, when Johnny had whispered the request, a simple one really - into the darkness of the room one night as they shared a bed…Simon couldn’t say no. 

“Come home with me, Si.”

That was less than a week ago, and the Scott followed through on his promise, helping Simon pack his bags before all but whisking him away for a few weeks holiday with his family. 

His very large family. 

Of course Simon knew of Johnny’s parents and sisters and brother, but Johnny had warned him that the whole extended family gets together for Christmas. He’d been regaling Simon with dozens of tales from his childhood, each one with a different family member. And try as he might, Simon couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he continued, sweaty palms forgotten the longer Johnny talked. 

The small moment of reprieve didn’t last long, however, because sooner than Simon was ready for they were turning off the main road onto a side street. That side street quickly gave way to a long gravel drive, and before he knew it Johnny had parked the car behind at least half a dozen others in front of a large house. 

The first thing Simon noticed was the sheer normal-ness of the place. All the cars were practical ones, SUVs, sedans - made for families. The house was decorated modestly but tastefully. Colorful string lights lined the gutters and porch railings, a wreath hung on the door, and a large wooden sign leaned up against the front of the house beside the door that read ‘Merry Christmas!’ In bold red letters. 

But more than that, Simon could see into the house. The blinds are open and he can see many people milling about, talking, laughing, adults running after small children-

“This wasn’t a good idea, Johnny.”

The words are out before Simon can stop them, and he instantly regrets them the moment they bring a wounded look to his partner's face. But he can’t help it. His damn palms are sweaty again and his heart is racing and he can’t-

Johnny reaches over to slide a familiar calloused hand into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’ll be okay, Simon. They’re gonna love ya’-”

Simon can’t help the small huff of bitter laughter that slips from beneath his mask. “Will they?” He asks, before gesturing to the cloth covering his face. 

“You’re tellin’ me the kids won’t run screamin’, the moment they see me? Or that your family won’t stare at the giant with a bloody mask-”

Simon cuts himself off, shaking his head. 

“I shouldn’t ‘ave come,” he repeats sullenly, “You go in. Enjoy the holiday with your family. I saw a hotel not too far back, I can-”

“No, no, no, none of that shite,” Johnny interjects, voice firm. A tone he doesn’t take with Simon often. 

“I’ve told them all about you,” he finally admits, “mask an’ all.” He laughs softly. “The only thing Ma ‘ad to say about it was askin’ why you chose a skull.”

Simon is silent, warring with himself as Johnny continues. 

“And…you don’t ‘ave to wear it if you don’t want to,” he suggests lightly, before squeezing Simon’s hand again. “I wouldn’t ‘ave suggested you come if I dinnae think they’d like ya’. My family is important to me, Si. And you’re part of tha’ now.”

Simon didn’t have time to respond this time before Johnny’s out of the car and opening the trunk to get their bags. He’s thinking out loud again, wondering if his mother made his favorite side dish or dessert, wondering if his nephews would be here.

Simon is listening but he also isn’t, his mind running one hundred miles a minute until the trunk slams closed and Simon lets out a muttered curse before ripping the balaclava off his head and shoving it in his pocket as he steps from the vehicle. He doesn’t miss the shocked raise of the Scott’s eyebrows as he comes around the car before it melts into that fucking smile that plagues Simons waking moments. 

Simon takes his bag from Johnny’s hand before following him up the drive then up the steps of the porch. He waits patiently as Johnny grabs the door handle, knocking when he finds it’s locked. Every moment of waiting feels like an eternity for Simon, all possible scenarios running through his mind. The door swinging open and everyone inside coming to a stand still as they take in the monster Johnny brought with him. The children pointing and whispering about the scars marring his features. Johnny’s parent’s frowning in disapproval at the choice their son made…

It’s all playing out in front of his very eyes until a soft feminine voice calls out from the other side of the door - ‘coming!’ - and then the lock clicks and the door swings open and an older woman that looks eerily similar to his partner beams up at them both.

“Johnathan!” She says reverently, wistfully, as she wraps her son in a hug so fierce Simon’s momentarily worried she might injure him. 

But Johnny just laughs and drops his bag as he wraps his big arms around his mother, stooping down to envelop her entirely as he embraces her, tucking his head into her neck. 

“I’m home, Ma.”

The embrace lasts for the perfect amount of time before they pull away from one another, and it’s then, as Mrs. MacTavish holds her son at arms length - looking over him - that her eyes flit over to Simon, and the inevitable has finally come. 

Except there’s no hatred. No disgust or disapproval or furrowed brows. Instead there’s a smile just as big as she gave Johnny and before Simon can react the woman is approaching him.

“You must be, Simon,” she says, voice gentle - warm and welcoming. 

All Simon can do is nod, gripping onto his duffel bag with white knuckles. 

“Johnathan never stops talking about you-”

“Ma!” Johnny reprimands.

“Talking about you and your team and how…” she trails off, a sadness settling into her eyes before she steps forward and wraps Simon in an embrace he hasn’t felt since his own mother passed. 

It’s strong and grounding, yet soft and inviting all at the same time, and it catches Simon so off guard that this woman who barely reaches his chest is hugging him - that all he can think to do is wrap his free arm lamely around her shoulders. 

“Thank you for keeping him safe.”

The words are so soft, uttered into the cotton of Simon's shirt, that he’s surprised he hears them. But he does, and he gives her a gentle squeeze. 

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to him,” he assures her.

He looks to Johnny as his mother pulls away from him, and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the smug ‘I told you so’ look on the scott’s face. 

Mrs. MacTavish smiles again before stepping back towards the house. “Well, come on then, you’re just in time, really. Dinner is goin’ to be ready within the hour.”

She opens the door back up and steps inside and Johnny follows close behind her, looking back when Simon hesitates. He gives him a reassuring look, shifting his bag to his other hand so he can reach a hand out to him. Letting out a small resigned huff, Simon takes the hand offer to him and lets himself be tugged into the house. 

Warmth envelopes him almost immediately- not only in the temperature sense because of the roaring fire in the fireplace at the center of the living room - but also in the atmosphere. The lights around the house are soft and welcoming, none of the bright fluorescents that litter the base. And the general sense in the house is one of pure love and happiness and joy. Children running around, adults laughing and chatting happily with drinks in their hands. Even the Christmas tree, bursting with colorfully wrapped gifts beneath it adds to the overall feel. 

It gives Simon whiplash - how different this place is than the environments he’s usually in. It’s not like the cinderblock dorm he usually stays in or the concrete gym he frequents or even the various dangerous countries he travels to for missions. 

Simon wants to both run and never leave at the same time. And unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get a chance to do the former. Before he has a chance to disappear into some dark corner (not that there’s many to be seen in this cozy home) Johnny is introducing him to all the family that stops them as they come in. 

Aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, grandparents…the only ones Simon really has time to remember are his sisters because Johnny talks about them all the time anyways - and once again, Simon is startled into near silence. Not a single one of them gives him a sideways glance. They all just smile warmly at him when Johnny introduces him, giving him a firm handshake - or let’s be honest - most of them wrap him in a firm hug. He expected nothing less from Johnny’s family. 

And when Johnny does end up getting pulled away by rambunctious nieces and nephews and Simon is left alone, he still doesn’t get a chance to slip away because Johnny’s sisters are sliding up to him, chatting about anything and nothing and slipping a drink into his hand (spike eggnog which Simon pretends not to enjoy as much as he does). 

It’s how ended up where he is now, hating feeling useless and standing around, he’s bustling around the kitchen with Johnny’s sisters, Amelia and Isobel and Mrs. MacTavish.

“Call me Moira, Simon. Mrs. MacTvish is my mother-in-law.”

(He doesn’t. Can’t. Not yet at least.)

“Simon,” Amelia, calls from the gargantuan dining room table in the room connected to the kitchen, “Can you grab the trivets? Dinnae want to leave rings on the table-”

“Oh!” Isobel calls as well, from where she’s playing the silverware, “I forgot the napkins too-”

Simon, with trivets already tucked beneath his arms, swoops up the delicately folded napkins on his way into the dining room - “On it.”

He places the trivett's precisely where the sisters direct him, unable to stop the small smile from tugging at his lips when they practically groan in appreciation when he places the napkins on top of the plates that are set out.

“Finally,” Amelia explains, moving to help Isobel set the silverware, “A man who isn’t entirely clueless-”

“Right?” Isobel agrees, both of them laughing.

Simon lets out a chuckle of his own, shrugging his shoulders. 

“We didn’ do much as a family when I was younger,” he starts, slightly hesitant. “But my Mum never skipped a holiday meal. Showed me how to set the table,” he says softly, feeling like he revealed too much. 

But the sisters just smile brightly at him, and Simon has to shove down the voice screaming ‘wrong, wrong, wrong! You don’t deserve their kindness, their sympathy-‘

“Well, your mum sounds like a lovely, woman,” Amelia says, before Isobel pipes in. 

“Are you and Johnny going to visit your family after us?”

Simon freezes at that, shoulders tensing as he tries and fails to stop the frown from tugging at his lips. He pretends not to see the way Amelia elbows her sister, sending her a scathing look as he continues to place napkins, now avoiding their eyes. 

“I uh-” he clears his throat. “My family’s passed. Jus’ me now.”

It’s silent for a moment, before he feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and he startles slightly, not having heard Mrs. MacTavish come up behind him in his inner grief. He turns to see yet another one of those blinding smiles on her face, a smile so similar to Johnny’s. He freezes again as her hand slides down to cover Simon’s, her hand tiny against his own larger one. 

“Well,” she says softly, “You always have a place at our table, Simon. You’re our family now.”

She turns away before he can speak and as she calls out to the family that dinner is ready, he’s silently glad she did, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to speak around the lump in his throat. 

———

The family helps carry the food out to the table, and Simon can’t help but be impressed at the bountiful display of food, his stomach rumbling at the sight. Johnny finds him in the slight chaos, taking his hand in his own as he leads him to two seats towards the head of the table, just as everyone else is taking their seats. Johnny’s mother is at the head of the table, Amelia and Isobel and their partners and children to her left and Johnny and Simon to her right. He can’t help but feel like he’s too high up on the totem pole that is family seating. Hell, he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be here at all. 

Yet, when Mrs. MacTavish insist they all hold hands to say a prayer and she goes through the typical spiel, any doubt he has melts away when she says thanks for Johnny’s safety, Simon’s own name falling shortly behind before the entire table closes the prayer and Johnny squeezes his hand in that loving way that always makes his heart stutter. 

As quickly as the silence that fell over the table during grace came, it was gone in an instant. Soft shatter and laughter soon starts up as everyone passes dishes of food around. A lot of the things Simon recognizes; ham, mashed potatoes, and various other comfort food sides litter the table. But there are also some dishes that are unfamiliar to Simon, and Johnny is quick to explain them. Most of them are Scottish dishes he’s never heard of, but some are family recipes that have evolved over the years - all of them Johnny’s favorites.

“Oh, you ‘ave to try this one Si, it’s my favorite-”

“You’ve said tha’ about the last three dishes, Johnny-”

The Scott just laughs, “But this time I mean it.”

Soon, Simon’s plate is piled so high with food he’s concerned he won’t be able to eat it all (he does…and goes back for seconds). And he has to constantly remind himself not to eat like a military man - hunched over his plate, shoveling food in as fast as possible to be done in time - something he notices Johnny has to do as well. 

Simon smiles - and for the first time since he left base a few days ago, his palms have stopped sweating. 

———

The night is quiet as Simon steps outside of the still chattering household. Dinner ended a few hours ago, and ever the dutiful guest, Simon helped clean up before the events were moved to the living room. Presents were shared among family, mainly the kids. Colorful wrapping paper littering the floor and the couches and the chairs (and even the fireplace on one occasion, a disaster Simon managed to catch and stomp out before it went too far.) He and Johnny sat on the couch, the latter watching and oozing happiness from every pore as he soaked in the family he hadn't seen in too long. Hell, even Simon was sated - a little too much like a cat in a sun patch with his belly full and his inhibitions slightly dulled from that damn eggnog. 

But now…Simon felt the ever present itch to step away, that familiar feeling of otherness creeping back in as he feels like an intruder to something so cozy and intimate. 

You don’t belong here, that voice mutters again, sounding strangely similar to his father’s rasping voice as he slides the back door open and steps onto the back porch.

He tugs a cigarette from the pack in his coat pocket, placing it between his lips before grabbing the zippo Johnny had gifted him almost a year ago. 

‘It’s the twenty-first century, L.T. quit usin’ matches.’

Simon huffed out a small laugh at the memory as he flicked the wheel of the lighter, a small flame sparking to life and warming his palm as he cups his hand around it and brings to the end of the cigarette, taking a deep drag to light it. 

The soft sound of the sliding glass door reaches his ears just as he flicks the lighter closed and stows it away, and he knows who it is almost instantly, the footsteps familiar to him. 

Johnny doesn’t speak right away, instead coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Simon just as the first few flurries start to fall from the sky. 

Snow…

Simon can’t remember the last time he saw snow - well - saw snow in a pleasant way. Snow that wasn’t waist deep and in the Russian wilderness and keeping his team from reaching the safe house. Snow that wasn’t stained red or crushed into brown slurry beneath his boots. 

Maybe this trip would change that - like it’s changed a lot of things. 

“Thank you.”

The words are simple, but soft. Softer than they have a right to be coming from a man like Simon. A man who has more blood on his hands than most. A man who most people would run from the second they looked at him. 

But he means them. He means them with his whole heart and he hopes that Johnny understands everything Simon is trying to say with those two simple words. 

Thank you for inviting me here. Thank you for trusting me with your family. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for loving the unlovable and showing me this and -

Johnny shrugs, and the rustle of fabric breaks off Simon’s train of thought as he glances over at his partner from the corner of his eyes. 

“I want you ‘ere, Si,” Johnny says softly, eyes looking out into the wilderness beyond the backyard, into the stars littering the night sky, “I ‘ave for a long time, and I…”

He trails off, clearing his throat, and Simon doesn’t miss the way he fiddles with something in his pocket. 

“I love you, Simon,” he says gently, finally tearing his eyes away from the celestial lights above him to look at Simon in a way that he’s never been looked at before. “And I meant wha’ I said. You’re part of this now,” he gestures back to the house still brimming with life, love, and happiness. “And I was wonderin’…” he trails off again, letting out a frustrated sound. 

“Ah, I’m shite at this…”

Simon huffs out a laugh, “Spit it out, Johnny-”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to laugh, shaking his head as he pulls out a little velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Your makin’ this real ‘ard to be all romantic an’ shit-” he rolls his eyes, but even in the dimness of the moonlight Simon doesn’t miss the way Johnny’s cheeks redden. 

Realistically Simon knows what’s in the box - he knows what’s coming. Yet, he still can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat when Johnny opens the box to reveal a simple gold ring. No frills, no getting on one knee and professing his love, no fancy dinner. 

It was never their thing anyways. 

“Simon Riley,” Johnny says, voice slightly choked, nervous, “Will you marry me?”

Simon never truly knew what he would do in this situation- fuck, he never imagined this scenario. Ever. Not in a million years. And if he did - he always thought he’d be the one asking.

“Johnny…”

The Scott cuts him off, “now before you go an’ start all that self-deprecatin’ bullshi-”

“Johnny-” Simon tries again.

“I love you! An’ I know that-”

Simon lets out a low growl, once stemming from slight annoyance as he flicks his cigarette out and away from him in favor of taking Johnny’s face in his calloused palms and pressing lips firmly to his. It shuts the Scott up, and Simon can’t stop that stupid giddy feeling that he gets when familiar hands wrap around his waist. 

It doesn’t last long, just long enough for Simon to get the point across, and then he’s pulling away resting his forehead against Johnny’s. 

“If you’d let me get a bloody word out, I’d tell you yes.”

Johnny pauses at that - eyes widening slightly in that way that Simon always thinks looks like a puppy begging for more treats. 

“Really?”

Simon scoffs, not unkindly, and pulls away his hand still cupping warm cheeks. 

“Why’d ya ask if ya thought I’d say no?”

Johnny blushes at that, looking away, “Well I didnae think you’d say no…” he shrugs, “Just thought you’d take more convincin’ is all.”

Now it’s Simon’s turn to roll his eyes, as he finally drops his hands, holding his left one out slightly. 

“You gonna make me put it on myself?”

Johnny laughs then, a real laugh, the loud one that Simon pretends to hate but really truly loves - and then Johnny is taking the ring from the box and sliding it on Simon's left ring finger with more delicacy than he deserves. The metal is cool, smooth as it slides against his overheated skin, and as it sit snugly on his finger, Simon can’t help but flex them, the metal glinting in the moonlight.

“You picked good, Johnny,” he says lamely, not sure what else to say until he glances at Johnny’s left hand. 

“Now I need to get you one,” he says, “Can’t have people thinkin’ you’re single.”

Johnny smiles, digging around in his jeans pocket this time before producing an identical gold band to his own. “Way ahead of ya, L.T.”

Johnny goes to slide the band on, but Simon stops him, taking the metal ring from his fingers with a grumble of ‘hold it sergeant’ before he slips it over his ring finger. He doesn’t miss the way Johnny smiles down at their hands, all wrapped together as he gazes at the matching rings. 

Simon opens his mouth to say something, but a bright white flash of light from his left stops him and Johnny in their tracks. They both look over just in time to see Isobel fumbling with her phone behind the glass sliding door as Amelia scolds her and Mrs. MacTavish just gives her son a small thumbs up and watery smile. 

Johnny just groans and runs a hand down his face as the three women scatter, leaving them alone once more. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he rolls his eyes, “Sorry ‘bout them-”

Simon shakes his head, taking Johnny’s hand in his own as he turns to face the backyard again, thumb already running over the smooth metal ring. 

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” he says, waving him off. “I…it’s nice. Having a family again.”

Johnny smiles, giving Simon’s hand a soft squeeze before they both settle into a comfortable silence to watch the snow fall from the sky above them. 

And as the muffled sounds of Christmas music and soft chatter filter out from the house and Simon holds Johnny close…He can’t help but send a silent thought to his mother and brother. Wherever they are.

‘I’m not alone.’

The gentle kiss of a breeze answers him, whispering against his cheeks and wrapping around his legs, and for the first time since he can remember - 

Simon is at peace. 

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 5)

I'm back!! Sorry for such a long and unexpected hiatus. A lot of things were going on and on top of that I've come to realize some things about my writing that made me feel unsatisfied about my quality of work. I'll try to improve with this series while trying to keep style and flow consistent but I now recognize that the plot moves at a very fast pace.

Last

Engineer! Reader x Curly Word Count ~ 2.5k TW: mentions of sexual assault, pregnancy, and abortion, angst, profanity

The whole crew seemed busy as of late. (Y/N) and Curly were no exception to this as well, but given the dwindling number of shared meals with all of the crew and the scarcity of which they saw each other, it was definitely easier to see Curly after hours and spend some time  in his embrace before heading back to her room without suspicion. They agreed to keep their arrangement a secret from the rest of the crew, just for the sake of professionalism in front of the others and as to not serve as a distraction from their mission 

It was going so well, (Y/N) thought to herself. Each day was a constant challenge to her capabilities and knowledge of her degree, but if it meant that she could end the night in his arms, under his gentle touch and loving gaze, then there really was nothing that could go wrong. To her relief, after the encounter with Jimmy that one night, he never approached her again to talk to her about whatever it was that he so needed to tell her. Things went as usual, and her presence around him was scarce. However, seeing and interacting with Anya was a rare occasion as well. (Y/N) found herself returning to their room first nowadays, and when Anya was in the room, her back was turned to her, but the shuffling from her side of the room was a clear indicator that she had not been sleeping. 

(Y/N) was concerned for her friend, but there was never a good opportunity to check in on her, that is, until Anya found her one day to ask if she was free for her regular psych eval. Jumping on the opportunity right away, she braced herself to enter the medical bay, ready to make sure things were alright. 

This was the first time she fully made eye contact with Anya in a while, and something inside her sank as she took in her appearance. Her typically glossy black hair was oily and matte and dark circles stained her eyes, giving her gaze a hollowed effect. Making sure the med bay door was fully shut, she took a seat across the desk from her before speaking out, beating her to it. 

“Anya, I haven’t gotten to talk to you in a while. You’ve been so quiet all of this week and I’m worried. What’s going on?” 

With a pause, Anya let out a small, soulless chuckle. “I was supposed to start your evaluations and the first thing you do before we start is check on my wellbeing.”

“Well, of course. I mean you’re responsible for all of ours, but who checks up on you? I’m worried about you, not as your crewmate but as your friend, as the only other woman here on this ship. I need to make sure you’re okay.” (Y/N) leaned into the desk a little bit, placing a hand over Anya’s. 

She noticed as Anya’s lower lip started to quiver and her nose and mouth started to scrunch together. “I don’t feel like I have control over anything anymore, (Y/N).” A tear slipped out of her eye as she swallowed hard. 

Both hands were squeezing the crying woman’s now in a desperate attempt to share the burden. “What do you mean? Do you feel stuck being here? Do you miss Earth?”

“No, that’s not it.” Anya couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Her head bent down in shame as she choked on the words coming out of her mouth. As (Y/N) listened, she felt herself drift further and further away from the sensation of her own body, unaware of the tears that began falling down her face as well. 

“When did this happen?” She cried. She immediately thought about the one night she did not spend in their shared room, going instead to the cockpit to bring the captain a cup of coffee and company, falling asleep and waking up in his arms. Guilt and horror ricocheted her back into the sensation of her own body as she started trembling. “N-No, don’t tell me it was that night. He came into our room, didn’t he? When I wasn’t there?” Anya nodded, crying a little harder now. “Oh, Anya, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t there.” She sobbed. 

“At first, I was mad that you weren’t there. The hypotheticals after it happened were constantly playing in my head. If only you were there, maybe he wouldn’t have felt encouraged to come in. Maybe if I didn’t start a conversation with him that night before going to bed, he wouldn’t have thought to do such a thing. Maybe if I didn’t just wear a t-shirt instead of our typical long sleeved uniforms, he wouldn’t have felt tempted.”

“No, honey, no. None of these things encouraged him to do what he did. You are here to do your job and you do amazing at it. Nothing you did should have ‘tempted’ him to do what he did. He made that choice entirely on his own.” Along with the sadness and guilt (Y/N) felt for her friend, a new emotion arose – anger. She remembered that night, how Jimmy looked at her and tried to approach her. What he wanted was now so clear to her, and it made her so guilty to realise how narrowly she escaped and diverted the fate to Anya. She cautiously made her way around the desk, sinking to her knees in front of Anya now, who was still sitting in her chair but moved to face her. With cautious hands, she shakily wrapped her arms around her, which Anya slowly accepted, and the both of them cried as they held each other, mourning the situation now for what it was – a loss of autonomy and control, a direct violation of reducing her to something less than human, knowing later on would be a time for figuring out what to do next. 

The rest of the day was a blur for (Y/N). The two women agreed to find another time to talk about what to do later since there were still so many tasks to be done before the day ended. She dragged along, her heart beating out of her chest as Jimmy passed her in the hallway without acknowledging her. She tried to keep her breathing steady and quiet. Unable to focus, (Y/N) decided on completing the minimum of her tasks before retreating to her room, deciding to read to clear her head. 

In the evening, a gentle knock came from outside of the door, and she got up to creak open the door slightly. Looking up, she was met with the admiring eyes of the captain, who leaned down to give her a peck on the lips before looking back at her, eyes widening slightly when he finally took in the expression on her face. He brought a hand to her face, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone.

“Have you been crying?” He asked. She turned away, unsure of how to answer him. “(Y/N),” he began. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

She held back the tears threatening to spill, unsure if she should lean into him for comfort or stay at a distance after spending the entire day drenched in guilt. “I-It’s not my place to say. I swear I’m fine. I just need a little time to think, okay?” She dismissed him and he shot her a worried look, rubbing his hands up and down her back, clearly concerned over the state she was in. After getting the clear signal that she wanted time alone, Curly pressed a kiss on her temple before bidding her goodnight and leaving the room. 

Not long after, Anya slipped into the room, in the same state (Y/N) found her in earlier. Sitting down together, they began to talk.

“We can’t let him roam around and get away with this, Anya. He has to take responsibility for what he did to you. If we don’t do anything, there’s no telling if he will try something again.” (Y/N) persisted.

“I know, you’re right,” Anya sighed. “But I don’t want so much attention drawn to this. Sure, there’s only the six of us on this ship, but once we get corporate involved, things can get so much more complicated.”

The other woman stared down at her hands, picking at her nails anxiously. “How many weeks in did you say you thought you were again?”

“From my last period, it’s been a month and a half. I took a pregnancy test about two weeks ago that came up positive.”

(Y/N) did some mental maths. “By the time we get back from this trip, you’ll be into your third trimester and showing. It will definitely raise some questions by the time we get back. And it would be too late to terminate the pregnancy at that point. I’m assuming we don’t have the equipment to do that safely on board, right?” Anya shook her head. “Okay, then I still believe that holding Jimmy accountable for what he’s done is the best solution moving forward. I know it’ll be hard to want to speak up and make him pay, but it's the right thing to do, and you’ll always have my support. We need to tell the captain.”

Anya sighed and stared into her lap. “That’s the thing. I already did.” Shock flooded (Y/N)’s system and she felt momentarily paralyzed by this revelation. 

“Wh-What? And did he say anything?” she asked.

Slowly, a tear ran down Anya’s face once again. “He told me he would talk to him, but I don’t think he has yet. I told him a week or two after it happened. He doesn’t know that I’m pregnant yet but he didn’t want to believe that his friend could do such a thing. I tried to tell him but he sort of just shot it down.”

Anger rose in (Y/N)’s body like hot, pressurised steam. “So he chose his friendship over the safety of his team.”

Anya put a hand on her arm in an effort to get her attention. “I don’t blame him, I’m sure he’s disappointed that his friend would do such a thing, so denial of it would make sense.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “That doesn’t excuse the way he chose to dismiss you. Please, Anya. Let me talk to him and try to reason about this. You need to get your rest. I promise I’ll be back to the room soon – I believe him and Jimmy are still in the cockpit anyway. You’re safe in here now.”

For the first time in a while, she saw Anya's shoulder droop, feeling defeated and fatigued. How many days has it been since she didn’t have to worry about her safety on this cramped ship? Finally, she had gained an ally in her corner. 

(Y/N) slipped out of the room, a bitter knot forming in her throat as she felt herself shaking – whether it was from disappointment or rage, she couldn’t tell. These past few weeks have been perfect. She had found someone who she looked up to and admired, someone who understood her needs and could be there for her when she needed him. Now, after hearing what he had done, the man who she thought was perfect had fallen from the high place she put him. 

Her fist shook as she knocked on the cockpit door, her heart beating so rapidly she could hear the sound of blood pumping through her ears. With a soft noise of acknowledgement on the other side, she cracked open the door to see the captain and co-pilot turn around to look at her. 

“Can I have a word with you, Captain?” She asked shakily. He nodded and got out of his seat, making sure that Jimmy was capable of taking over while he was gone. (Y/N) turned around to walk out, not looking behind to check and see if Curly was following her. She walked at a brisk pace, trying to avoid walking alongside him and stopped once she stepped into the utility room, arms wrapped around herself. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. He grew increasingly worried as he followed after her, calling her name several times to no avail. When she stopped to turn around to face him, he held her arms, looking down at her.

“(Y/N), what’s going on? I’ve been so worried about you today.”  He tried to console her to the best of his ability, but she stepped out of his hold. 

“Anya came to you when she needed your help,” her voice quivered. “Why didn’t you listen to her? Why didn’t you take her seriously when she needed someone to make sure that she was safe?” 

His expression sank immediately. “I-I– fuck, I was going to talk to him about it but there was never a good time. Jimmy is trying his best, okay? This was just a big mistake that he made.”

“A mistake? This “mistake” has haunted Anya with the realisation that there is no corner of this ship that is safe for her anymore!” Tears of rage started welling up again. “What Jimmy did to her left her to deal with the consequences of his actions and when we get back from our trip, the world is going to make her pay for it.” she choked. 

“What?” he was confused. 

“Captain,” (Y/N) began. “He got her pregnant. By the time we get back from this trip, she’ll almost be ready to deliver.” 

A mixed look of shock and dread spread on his face. “W-We can fix this. I’ll make sure to talk to Anya about how she wants to go about it and we can come up with a plan to talk to him together.”

“You’re the one in charge here. The safety of your crew is your responsibility. Anya deserves an apology and greater respect from you to listen to her and take her seriously.” She sounded bitter. “I had so much respect for you as your subordinate and I was beginning to think that I loved you, but I can’t excuse the way you dealt with this.” (Y/N) started heading for the exit of the room, only to be stopped by Curly’s hand grasping her shoulder. He stared down at her in guilt and desperation.

“Please, give me another chance. There’s still time to make things right. How I dealt with this was entirely wrong. I’ll fix this.” It hurt him to see the way she looked back up at him, frustrated and disappointed. 

“Good. Take responsibility, Captain.” With that, she slipped from his hand and made her way back to her quarters. 

[coldlovehotblood]

SNOW-KISSED SERENADE

izzy makes up for missed time by making christmas unforgettable

w/c: 3,264

warnings: izzy is disgustingly cute

a/n: this is an early christmas gift for my bff violet @rocknrolldecadence ! sorry for taking so long queen… IM ONLY AN HOUR LATE ITS FINE ITS FINE *sweats* anyway i hope you all enjoy some more izzy fluff. merry christmas! <333

divider by @/strangergraphics

You had been suspicious for quite some time.

Usually, your boyfriend wouldn't care if you were in the room while he worked. In fact, he often invited you to join him, insisting you sit beside him either in the studio or on the sofa of your apartment as he tested different chords and scribbled down a line or two. You didn’t have to talk to him or be quiet or help, all he asked was that you sat with him. The few times you questioned why he requested such a thing, he replied with a shrug, saying ‘I just like you close.’

But as your relationship progressed, he slowly asked for you to come to the studio less, instead asking for privacy. Of course, you respected this. Really, his music-making process was none of your business, and it wasn't like you fully paid attention to what he was doing every time you accompanied him. With this in mind, it didn’t bother you. However, when the conversation steered towards songwriting or what he was currently working on, he changed the subject. That was strange for your normally very communicative Izzy who freely blabbed about anything that was on his mind around you.

Again, you respected the boundary he placed, but that didnt mean you kept a cap on your curiosity. Holding your tongue was easier than holding back wandering thoughts. It hurt to be shown that he did not feel comfortable sharing his art anymore, but you said nothing. There was no point prying, as over the years you learnt that was the quickest way to put him off talking about or admitting anything.

It got to a point where if you walked into the room and his lyric notebook was lying open in front of him, guitar sitting neatly in his lap, he’d lurch forward from where he sat, no matter how comfy he seemed, and snapped the book closed, body rigid, eyes a little frantic. Maybe even panicked.

After a couple of months of this, you decided one December that you'd get to the bottom of it.

Christmas had been drawing closer and closer, and you still didnt have any idea what you were going to gift Izzy. You had tried to subtly bring it up in conversations for a week or two, but he caught you every time, fondly kissing your cheek and telling you he didnt need anything. You would never turn down one of his kisses, but they were very unhelpful with your search.

Eventually, you settled on getting him some essentials and a custom engraved dog tag necklace. Peel back the layers of rockstar and he was a simple man. You knew that, no matter what you got him, he’d give you a big, glowing, toothy smile and a hug.

It was Christmas eve when you picked the necklace up from the shop, his name crisply engraved into the shiny silver tag, and he had come to your apartment to share a takeout dinner. He hadn't seen you for a couple of days and had begged previously over the phone to stay the night, promising to pay for the food in a childish, whiney voice. You couldn't deny him. You just had to pray he wouldn't find the hidden, snowflake decorated gift bag you had hidden.

A knock sounded from the door as you stood wiping down the last bit of your kitchen counters. You had decided to tidy up before he came to stay, as you knew he would rope you into evenings spent lounging around, on and off napping and staying firmly within each other's hold. No complaints, but this usually meant that, with each day he spent with you, your apartment became more and more messy. Not a big deal, but it was easier to clean when the disarray was built from a clean slate, not the beginnings of your own messes.

You almost skipped to the door with how excited you were. It was always fun when he came to stay. You had missed him. He’d spent a couple of days holed up with the band in some recording studio, working hard on their next big project. He often became fully absorbed by whatever he was doing so contact with you would become sparse. You knew him well enough to not panic when radio silence came. It was hard to complain about it when the fruit of his labour tasted so sweet. Guns n’ Roses, as a unit, were so hard working and it showed in the quality of their music. Izzy was simply dedicated to his craft. It was one of the things you found most endearing about him. You admired his passion.

He was looking at his boots when you opened the door, head coming up instantly when you said hello. He was carrying a guitar case on his back and wearing less than sensible clothing, black button up shirt open halfway, partially exposing his chest. This, paired with ripped jeans and only a beaten up leather jacket to fend off the nip in the air, you decided he was one of the stupidest people you had ever met.

“Do you have a death wish?” you asked as he leaned down to kiss you. He just laughed against your lips and moved the two of you further into the apartment, one of his cold hands finding the side of your face, the other resting easily on your hip.

“Damn, miss me that much?”

“I'm talking about your outfit. Izzy, it's leaning towards minus numbers out there and you're dressed in ripped jeans with your chest bared to the wind? Are you looking to get sick?”

“I’m so hot, the cold doesn't get to me. I think I recall us having this conversation–”

“Shut up, weirdo,” you rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek before pulling away.

He muttered something about your apartment being cosy and you repeated with playful anger that he was stupid. He argued that it was worth it because he looked good. To be fair, he did. In fact, he looked amazing. He always had in your eyes. So naturally handsome he sometimes took your breath away just by standing there. But however well put together his outfit looked, it was ridiculous considering the weather, every slight breeze whispering with the promise of thick frost and snow. That view of his chest was gorgeous but tempted the low temperatures to pierce right through him. You couldn't have him getting sick.

“What do you wanna eat?” you asked as he shrugged the guitar case off of his back, letting it lean against the side of your sofa.

“I don’t mind. Just name somewhere and I’ll give you the money.”

“You know, I was joking when I said you have to pay for it. We can split like normal.”

“No, I feel bad for being away for so long. Let me treat you. And anyway, it's Christmas tomorrow. Consider this one of my gifts to you.”

You argued for a short while and ended up chasing him with cash in your hand, insisting he take it. He just shouted a quick ‘Love you!’ before running out your door, slamming it closed to make sure you couldn't grab him by one of his sleeves. You huffed in defeat.

Damn him and his long legs.

He came back maybe twenty minutes later, two pizza boxes in hand, and you ended up eating sat in front of the TV, a thick blanket thrown over your tangled legs. It was so nice to have him back and beside you where you could feel the mass of his body against your side. Sure, hearing from him on the phone and talking was great, but being able to actually touch him, wrap an arm around his and put your head on his shoulder, was so much better.

You thought it was your imagination, but as time went on and the two of you got closer to finishing your food, the movie playing drawing to a close, Izzy started to tense up. If he was uncomfortable, he was masking it well on his face, but from how you leaned against him, you were able to feel how his shoulders were tightening and you saw his fingers curl into fists over the blanket.

Eventually, the credits began and the two of you got up to dispose of your empty pizza boxes. You were in a fantastic mood and couldn't wipe the pleased smile off of your face. You didn’t want to. This was an ideal Christmas.

“Should I give you your gifts now? Or should we wait for the morning? You don't have to open them now, but I'd rather just have them out before I wake up too groggy to remember where they're hidden.”

You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed and eyes widened at the mention of gifts.

“Now?

“Yeah. Do you want to wait? I don't mind…” you trailed off when you saw him bite his lip and look down slightly, realising what was happening.

Was he nervous?

He didn’t reply to you so you said his name softly, startling him out of whatever daze his head brought him into.

“Um, actually, before you do, can we go sit again?”

“Whats wrong? Did you not get me anything?” you laughed nudging him.

“Well,” he took a small breath, “Yes and no?”

You tilted your head, not understanding. He ran a hand through his hair, still nibbling on his lower lip.

“Just come sit and I’ll explain.”

You started to suspect he forgot to get you something. You wouldn't have been angry– he'd been busy for the past week for goodness sake! Was he afraid you would blow up at him for it? No, you didn’t want him thinking like that. His presence meant everything, and even that alone was enough of a gift for you that Christmas. You opened your mouth to reassure him of this, but he simply held gentle fingers over your mouth before guiding you to sit on the floor with him, the two of you leaning against the front of your sofa.

He was still biting his lip, and the skin was turning to an irritated red, so you reached forward and carefully eased it from between his teeth

“You'll hurt yourself, love.”

His eyes widened again and he looked at you with an expression you couldn't decipher.

“You know, I won't be mad if you haven’t bought anything. That’s not what I’m looking for at Christmas. If that’s what this is, there's no need to worry.”

“No, it's not that, it's just…” he took a second, and you let him have it, “I have a gift, but its not something physical, if that makes any sense.”

You nodded your head and observed him as he sat there, no longer looking at you but rather keeping his gaze carefully on the floor. He took one more deep breath before reaching for his guitar case and placing it in front of the two of you.

For some reason, this felt like a moment– a movement for him and your relationship. Nothing was moving out of place, per se, but rather, moving in and adding to the solid connection between the two of you. The air was vulnerable as you sat there, watching him take in very intentional breaths. You could tell that, for some reason, he was incredibly nervous, and how you reacted to whatever happened next mattered. So, you didn’t move an inch and let him take his time, keeping your face carefully neutral but encouraging.

You could be patient for however long he needed.

“As you know, I've been working on a lot of music lately, and I’ve spent the majority of my time in a studio. I’m sorry for not being with you as much as I should be.”

You shook your head.

“No need to apologise. I honestly don’t mind. I know how much music means to you, Izzy. I would never take you away from your passion. Hell, it's your job.”

His eyes met yours again for a split second before he returned his gaze to the floor. His hands had begun to fiddle with the end of the blanket the two of you had abandoned previously.

“Thank you. I honestly don't deserve you. I’ve been more caught up in making music because I've been… more inspired in the last few months than I have in years.”

You smiled. That was genuinely great to hear. It pleased you to know he was doing well. His happiness rubbed off on you.

“And,” he continued, now looking up,” I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

“Huh?”

“Remember when I used to ask you to sit with me in the studio?”

You nodded.

“It’s because you inspire me. I found that writing became easy with you there because you've been the root of all of my ideas. Ever since we met actually, you've inspired so many different things.”

His ears started to redden and your heart skipped with pure molten love and excitement. You could've genuinely leapt to your feet and sprung comically high like a cartoon, screaming with joy. That was so special. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You kept the same gentle and relaxed demeanour as before, but it was useless to try and hold back the giddy smile that took over your whole face.

“Is this why you’ve been so protective over your work?”

“Um, yeah. I didn’t mean to be so secretive, it’s just kind of… Kind of,” he looked away, that same beet red that grew on his ears now starting to come to his neck and cheeks.

“Kind of..?” you encouraged.

He took a peek at you before sighing, exasperated from having to be so honest.

“It’s embarrassing, okay? You probably think I’m fucking weird or something now.”

“No, Izzy. Actually, its quite the opposite. I think thats so sweet. I’m seriously so honoured to be an inspiration. You know how much I admire your work.”

He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“R-really?”

“Yes!”

He visibly became more relaxed, slumping a bit further against the sofa behind him.

“Oh thank God,” he breathed.

“Don’t tell me this is what you were so nervous about.”

“It is. I was going to buy you some clothes or something originally, but I thought, instead, I could show what I wrote for you. I burned a CD with a few of them on it for you too.”

Your mouth fell open. A few of them? Did you hear that right? He reached to open his case now and handed you a CD before taking the instrument out. You took it and looked at the front of the case. There was a paper slipped in the back of the plastic, on it, your name was written in neat cursive with a heart on the end. You genuinely could not believe what you were looking at.

He strummed experimentally, seeing if each string was in tune. You set it down and looked at him, eyes soft.

You were filled with so much love you could almost feel it coming up your throat. He didn’t realise just how much all of this meant to you, and you could tell. He was more at ease now, knowing that you were more than pleased with all of this. But you knew with the way the corner of his mouth raised once happy with the tuning of his guitar that he was unaware of just how incredible what he had done was.

You felt special. You felt loved.

“I was going to do this tomorrow, but now feels better. I’ll play you my favourite one, okay?”

You could only nod.

He began, and you were instantly enchanted. You paid careful attention to every chord, every word, every syllable. It was impossible not to. Everything about him demanded you look. He drew you in like that. The way his voice was filling the space made you want to lean in closer and maybe lean your head against his chest, but again, you didn’t dare move. The last thing you wanted to do was throw him off and scare him from ever doing something like this again.

He had been so brave and honest. You could tell that it took a lot of courage for him to tell you about this little secret. Izzy could be sappy every now and again, but playfully so. He was rarely so open. He was being open and vulnerable. Sincere. He had even flushed the sweetest red for you.

It was futile trying to stop the tears from forming in your lash line.

He finished with a final strum and his gaze returned to you once again, that unsure expression returning.

“What do you think?”

You sniffed before swaying forward and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He quickly put his guitar aside and made space for you, tilting his head to let your own fall to the crook of his neck. He put a cheek against your crown and laughed gently as you kissed all the skin you could from where you were tucked away, salty streams wetting your face as you cried. They weren’t just happy tears, but the result of being so stuffed with true, unwavering love you didn’t know where to put it, so it flooded out of you.

“I'm assuming those are positive tears,” Izzy spoke. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking. You could hear it in his words.

You pressed closer, seeking the vibrations that his voice brought.

“You are so dumb for thinking I'd call you weird,” you said, muffled by how you were positioned.

“How was I supposed to know how you’d react? There’s no way to casually say ‘Hey! You’ve been my muse since our first meeting and you’re the first thing that comes to mind when it’s quiet!’ I sound insane,” he huffed dryly.

You gave a scoff as your tears started slowing.

“I love you for you. This was really thoughtful and I’m a mess because of it. Are these tears not proof enough of my appreciation?” you joked, pulling away from his neck to look at him. “Should I run around like a headless chicken and explode into flames to show how this makes me feel?”

He let out a full laugh at that, making you smile once again. You noticed from the corner of your eye through the glass of the window that there were white flakes dancing in the breeze and you gasped, turning and pointing.

“Izzy, it’s snowing!”

“So it is.”

You took a moment to watch it fall like feathers against the black drape of night, contrasting colours striking. Beautiful.

The living room settled into true syrupy peace as you melted against your boyfriend's chest once again, eyes still steady on the sight outside. With the warm tangerine glow of display lights you’d wrapped around the TV stand, you felt a memory slip itself into place inside your mind.

You knew you would never forget that moment.

Izzy pressed a soft kiss to your hairline.

“Love you, sweetheart. Merry Christmas.”

“Love you too, idiot.”

“Hey!”

Silence came again, and you didn’t realise your eyelids were drooping. It was just so comfortable on his lap, his body heat bleeding into your skin so easily.

You had finally figured out what it was he was hiding.

‘Case closed’ you snorted internally, before drifting off, head blissfully empty.