#like always looking for the best way to put things

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (Teaser)

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.

⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}

Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡

[ginkgooou]

dance lessons | alexia putellas

summary: you and alexia try dancing.

this one took a while; i rewrote it like three times before i was finally happy with it. i'm no expert in dancing, but i tried my best to describe the moves. i hope you enjoy! feel free to send feedback or requests. 😄

english is not my first language.

4,272 words

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

you were out with alba, leisurely strolling through the city, when you came across two people handing out flyers. as you were about to walk past, one of them stepped forward, stopping you with a friendly smile.

“hey, do you two want to try a dance class?”, the woman asked you, offering you a flyer.

alba just shook her head. “no, thank you.”

you stopped, intrigued, taking the flyer from her hand and looking over it. it seemed like a fun idea, something you could do with alexia - an opportunity to try something new together.

as you skimmed the paper, the lady explained, “we teach ballroom and latin dances. it's for beginners, so anyone can join. you can sign up online if you're interested. the website's on the flyer.”

you nodded thoughtfully, looking up at her with a small smile. “thank you. i'll think about it.”

with that, you turned to alba, who linked her arm with yours as you walked away. she gave you a knowing look. “you sure ale will do it with you?”

with a smirk, you replied, “i have my ways.”

☆

well, your way was simply signing both you and alexia up for the course without telling her. after three years together, you knew your girlfriend very well and you knew if you'd asked her, she would've immediately said no.

alexia loved her routines, finding comfort in the structure of her days. they gave her a sense of control in a world that often felt too chaotic.

you understood that and respected it, but every now and then, you'd try to pull her out of her comfort zone a little. a new restaurant, an unexpected detour through the city or, when time allowed, a spontaneous road trip - just small things. it was always a struggle to get her to agree to your ideas. alexia could be very stubborn, but you always found a way to persuade her.

you knew that this time would be particularly difficult as it wasn't a one-time thing like usual; the dance course would last over several weeks. you could already picture your girlfriend's grumpy face, insisting she didn't want to go, claiming that she had football and no time for something like this.

but, you'd already made a plan.

first, you decided that instead of ordering in, you'd make dinner. you settled on cooking pasta with the homemade sauce that she liked so much, hoping it would put her in a good mood.

you had just started on the sauce when you heard the soft click of the front door echoing through the apartment. it was quickly followed by the muffled sound of footsteps and the soft thud of alexia's bag being dropped on the floor.

a few moments later, you felt your girlfriend's strong arms wrap around your waist, her familiar warmth bringing a smile to your face. she placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder before resting her head there with a soft sigh.

“hola, mi amor. i missed you.”, she mumbled, her voice tinged with fatigue.

turning your head slightly, you gave her a quick peck on her lips, whispering, “missed you too. how was training?”

“good. lots of things to work on.”, she replied.

as you continued making the sauce, alexia stayed wrapped around you, watching you cook. “ale?”, you said gently.

she hummed in response, letting you know she was listening.

“why don't you go shower? dinner will be ready soon.”

alexia just pressed herself closer, burying her head in your neck, making you chuckle at her clinginess. “baby, come on.”

“vale.”, your girlfriend grumbled, clearly reluctant to let go. with a sigh, she finally released her hold on you and headed upstairs.

while she showered, you finished preparing dinner and began setting the table. you were just plating the food, when you heard alexia coming back downstairs.

you looked up to see your girlfriend padding into the kitchen, her wet hair falling over her shoulders, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.

“it smells amazing, amor.”, she said, coming over and kissing your cheek. you smiled at her, turning back to the plates. “go sit down. i'll be right over.”

alexia nodded and made her way to the table, taking a seat and pouring two glasses of water.

once you finished plating, you walked over, setting the dishes on the table before sitting down beside her.

both of you eagerly dug in, conversation flowing effortlessly throughout the meal. between bites, alexia recounted her day, telling you about the intense drills, funny moments with her teammates and the interview she had to do while also asking about your day.

once you finished dinner, the conversation and you watched as the tension slowly melted away from her shoulders. her tone became lighter and more relaxed. you knew this was the perfect moment to bring up the dance class.

you glanced at her with a smile. “oh, i forgot to tell you! i was out with alba today. we went for lunch and then just wandered around.”, you began casually. “funny story, actually - we walked past some people handing out flyers.”, you continued, chuckling nervously as you watched your girlfriend closely.

alexia eyed you with suspicion. “what did you do?”, she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“well.”, you started, clearing your throat, “they were promoting their dance classes. i checked out the website - it looks really cool and professional.” you paused, grinning excitedly at alexia, “so, i signed us up for the course! it starts on monday.”

“no.”, your girlfriend said immediately, shaking her head. “no, no, no. we are not doing that.” you laughed at her instant refusal, expecting nothing less.

“come on, ale. it'll be fun.”, you urged, trying to convince her.

“no! i don't have time. i have football.”, alexia argued, crossing her arms defiantly. “sorry, amor, but it's just not happening.”

you sighed, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. “please? for me?”

your girlfriend quickly looked away, knowing she would crumble if she looked at you much longer. “..no.”, she repeated, but her voice lacked the firmness it had before.

sensing she just needed one more little push, you proceeded with part two of your plan.

you scooted back and stood up, alexia's eyes following you as you moved to straddle her lap, your arms wrapping around her shoulders while hers instinctively fell to your hips. she slightly leaned back in her chair, making room for you.

you slowly leaned in, lips nearly touching. “please?”, you asked again, your lips brushing hers.

you could see alexia's resolve wavering and you knew you almost had her. closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips softly against hers. when you pulled away, your girlfriend chased your lips, clearly not ready for the kiss to end yet.

“for me, baby?”, you asked again, a smile forming on your lips.

alexia opened her eyes, gazing up at you. after a few seconds of silence, she sighed dramatically. “i hate you.”

your grin only widened. “so you'll go with me?”

“yes.”, she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “but i don't like it.”

“thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you squealed, showering her face with kisses. your girlfriend tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn't suppress the wide smile spreading on her lips.

☆

it was monday evening, just before 6 pm, and the dance studio was filled with people. you stood near the back, surrounded by couples who were much older than you, their chatter filling the air. shifting nervously, you glanced at the door for what felt like the hundredth time.

alexia was late.

you two had agreed to come here separately, since your girlfriend had a late interview. she had assured you she would make it, but as the clock crept closer to 6, doubt started to creep in.

when it was time for the lesson to start, the two instructors, a woman with a warm smile and a tall man with black hair, stepped forward.

“hello everyone and welcome to the course! i'm isabella and this is my partner, luis.”, the woman said enthusiastically, her voice carrying across the room. “over the next few weeks, we'll be teaching you how to dance.”

you were trying to listen, but your thoughts kept wandering to alexia. as isabella started to explain a bit more about the class, the door suddenly swung open. your girlfriend burst through, slightly out of breath, still wearing her training kit.

“lo siento!”, she called out, blushing as she realized that everyone was looking at her. for a second, she scanned the room, her gaze darting past the curious looks before landing on you.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as your girlfriend hurried over, weaving through the people. when she reached you, she leaned in for a quick kiss. “i'm sorry.”, she whispered apologetically. “i didn't mean to be this late. the interview took longer than expected.”

you smiled at her, shaking your head. “it's fine. you're here now.”

alexia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked around, clearly feeling out of place in her kit. “i didn't have time to change.”, she muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

“don't worry about it.”, you said softly, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

someone clearing their throat beside you interrupted your whispering. you turned to see an older man giving you both a disapproving look. “could you stop talking? we're trying to listen.”, he said, sounding annoyed.

“sorry, we'll stop.”, you quickly apologized, flashing him a polite smile.

though, when you turned to your girlfriend and your eyes met hers, you let out a giggle. alexia couldn't suppress a grin, quietly shushing you and gesturing to the front.

you tuned back in just in time to catch isabella's last words. "so, our first dance will be a slow waltz," she began with a smile. "but before we begin, let's go over the hold."

she turned to luis, who took her hand in his as they stepped into position. he placed his right hand gently on isabella’s shoulder blade, while she rested her left hand on his upper arm. their free hands met between them. “the lead,” he explained, “places his right hand on the follow’s back, just here, and the follow’s left hand goes on the lead’s arm. your other hands meet, like so.” they turned in a circle so everyone could see clearly. they invited you to try it out, moving through the room and giving tips when needed.

“okay! now to the box step. it is really simple.”, isabella said. “the lead steps forward with their left foot. the follow steps back with their right.”

on cue, they moved, their feet sweeping across the floor in perfect synchronization. “step forward,” luis said, narrating his movement, “then side with the right foot, and bring your left foot to your right. then, you’ll step back with the right foot, side with the left, and close the feet again. that completes the box.”

you shifted your weight slightly, looking at alexia, who was staring at the instructors as if this dance was a tactical briefing before a big match. her brow was furrowed in concentration, which made you grin.

after they had showed you the movement a few more times, isabella smiled encouragingly at the class. “now, it’s time for you to try. we’ll walk around and help you.”

you turned to alexia, a playful glint in your eye. “so,” you began, raising an eyebrow, “who’s going to lead?”

your girlfriend chuckled, moving closer with a confident grin. “me, of course.” she tried to get into position, placing her hand on your shoulder blade, but you stepped back, not ready to give up just yet.

“but what if i want to lead?”, you asked hopefully. alexia shook her head. “no, i lead. no arguments.”

you huffed, pouting slightly as you mumbled, “so not fair.”

with a sigh, you finally let her step closer and take hold of you while you rested your hand on her upper arm. you could feel the warmth of her hand against your back, and despite your earlier protest, an excited smile crept on your face. “well, then. lead the way, capitana.”, you told her, laughing as she shot you an annoyed look at the nickname.

as it came to trying the steps, you could feel alexia’s earlier confidence beginning to waver slightly. she bit her lip, glancing down at her feet, and then stepped forward with her left. you weren’t ready yet and stumbled a little as you quickly tried to follow her lead and move backward, but you couldn’t hold your balance and accidentally stepped on her toes.

“oops, sorry!”, you blurted out, pulling back.

alexia just shook her head, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “no, it was my fault.”, she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “okay. let’s try again.”

you both repositioned yourselves and tried again. this time, you were ready and as she took a step forward, you moved back with your right foot, staying in the rhythm. alexia was incredibly focused, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“forward, side, close.”, she murmured to herself, following the steps. the determination in her eyes made you smile, but you could also feel the tension in her body. “hey, ale.”, you said softly, catching her attention. when she looked up at you, you continued, “try to relax. this is just for fun.”

your girlfriend took a deep breath, trying to let go of the pressure. “you’re right. just for fun.”, she replied, smiling at you.

after a few minutes, isabella made her way over to you. “good! that’s good.”, she praised, offering a warm smile. “but try not to look down at your feet. keep your eyes on each other or look over the left shoulder.” she gestured for you to step closer together. “you can also move closer together. it will help you feel the movements and make it easier to follow the lead.”

you and alexia nodded, moving closer, and got back into position. your eyes met and a soft smile passed between you. when alexia stepped forward this time, you could feel the shift in her weight, making it easier to anticipate her next move. the closeness made everything smoother, as if you were more in tune with each other.

“that's much better!”, isabella remarked before moving on to help the next couple.

after the first successful attempt, you tried the box step again. but it was alexia who faltered this time, accidentally stepping on your toes. “i'm so sorry.”, she muttered, her cheeks flushing as her gaze shifted over your shoulder, embarrassed. “it's just…”, she trailed off, meeting your eyes for a brief second before quickly looking down at her feet. “it's hard to concentrate with you so close.”, your girlfriend admitted softly, biting her lip.

you smiled at her confession, finding it incredibly endearing that even after all this time, you still had this effect on her. you couldn't help but press a quick kiss to her cheek. “i love you.”, you told her as you pulled away, catching the soft smile that lit up her face.

alexia's hand pressed gently against your back, drawing you closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “te quiero.”, she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, making your heart flutter.

suddenly, luis’ voice cut through, interrupting the moment between you. “alright, now that everyone's practiced the box step, let's learn the turning box.”, he announced, moving to the front of the room. “isabella and i will demonstrate.”

alexia cleared her throat and let go of you, turning her attention to the instructors.

luis took a moment to position himself with isabella. “the lead steps forward with the left foot, but this time, instead of moving straight, you'll turn slightly to the left.”, he began, showcasing the first move.

“as you step to the side with the right foot, your body should turn about 90° to the left.”, he continued, guiding isabella through the movement. “then, step with the left foot next to the right.”

they showed you the turns a few more times, with isabella also guiding you through the follow's role. as the demonstration concluded, luis turned to you all with a smile. “now it's your turn again.”

you and alexia quickly got back into position. “ready?”, your girlfriend asked, looking at you with a soft smile. “yes”, you answered.

you tried it slowly, wanting to get a feel for the added movement. it worked surprisingly well; you barely had to think about it as alexia confidently led you into the turn.

alexia was focused on the steps, murmuring them quietly under her breath. with each turn, you got more comfortable, feeling more confident in your steps.

encouraged by how well it worked, alexia picked up the pace a little and soon, you were gliding across the floor. just as you executed a smooth turn, you suddenly became aware of another couple moving in the opposite direction.

before you could react, you collided with them - your shoulder bumping into the man's side while alexia accidentally stepped on the woman's toes.

“oh no, sorry!”, alexia exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you, on the other hand, struggled to keep your laughter in as you turned to the couple, who looked just as surprised, but quickly joined you in the laughter. the man shook his head, waving off the mishap with a hrin. “it happens to the best of us.”

once you repositioned yourselves, you began anew, alexia now more aware of her surroundings. but the collision seemed to have made her relax more, smiling slightly while continuing to dance.

when luis approached, he smiled brightly at you. “that's really good!”, he said, nodding with approval. “keep it up!” the praise filled you with confidence and when you looked at alexia, you found her beaming with delight, her eyes sparkling with pride.

after a few more minutes, isabella moved to the sound system and put on music. “now, let's try it with music.”, she said enthusiastically.

as the melody of a slow waltz filled the room, everything changed. the soft notes wrapped around you, making the steps feel more fluid and natural, the rythm guiding your movements. alexia's confidence grew with every turn, leading you through the dance seamlessly.

you spent the remainder of the class learning more about the waltz, with luca and isabella showing you new steps here and there.

as you laid in bed that night, you turned to face her. “so, how did you like the class?”, you asked softly.

alexia shifted slightly, turning her head to meet your gaze in the dark. a small smile tugged at her lips. “i actually liked it.”, she admitted.

you raised an eyebrow, teasing her. “really? that's funny, considering someone didn't want to go at first.”

she chuckled, her hand reaching out to playfully nudge your arm. “yeah, yeah. but, really, it was fun.” her fingers intertwined with yours under the covers.

you grinned, satisfied with her confession. “i told you it would be.”

alexia sighed softly, leaning in to kiss you. “it was only fun because i did it with you.”

you smiled, your heart fluttering at her words. alexia wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer, her warmth lulling you to sleep.

☆

over the next few weeks, you continued going to the dance studio every monday, learning something new each time. throughout the week, you tried to practice as often as you could, but time seemed to always slip away from you.

both of your schedules were packed - alexia busy with training, matches and interviews while you had your own work commitments. it usually ended up with you practicing an hour before having to leave for class. but, despite the lack of practice, you both had improved quite a lot, especially alexia.

you could see your girlfriend's confidence grow with each session, her movements becoming more fluid and graceful. she led you effortlessly through the various dance routines - slow fox, cha-cha and tango - as if she had been dancing for years. she was a natural at this.

at least, that's what it seemed like to you.

one afternoon, you decided to surprise alexia and pick her up from training. you had a free day and since alexia's car was at the mechanic, she needed someone to pick her up.

after parking your car, you made your way over toward the building's entrance. halfway there, the door swung open and the first few girls exited the building. as soon as they spotted you, their faces lit up with excitement, and they rushed over.

“hi! i haven't seen you in sooo long. i've missed you so much.”, claudia said, pulling you into a tight hug.

you smiled warmly, returning the hug. “hey, clau. i missed you, too. work's just been a lot these days.”

after claudia let go, you turned to greet patri and ona with a hug, too. meanwhile, claudia continued talking, “you should visit more often. ale’s so much nicer when you're around.”

you couldn't help but laugh at that, knowing all too well how your girlfriend could get when it came to football. “i'll talk to her.”, you replied with a grin. then, glancing toward the building, you asked, “but speaking of alexia, where is she?”

more players had started to trickle out of the building, but still no sign of your girlfriend. ona was quick to answer your question, “she wanted to do some extra practice. she's still out on the pitch.”

you turned back to the group with a grateful smile. “ah, thank you. i should've known.”, you chuckled. “i guess i'll head in to find her.”

patri grinned, nudging your arm playfully. “you'd better. otherwise, she'll be out there all day.”

you laughed, pulling each of them into a quick hug. “alright, bye guys.”, you said, the three of them echoing your words as you headed toward the building.

inside, you made your way through the familiar hallways, your footsteps quickening as you approached the pitch, the faint sound of voices drifting toward you.

but as you stepped outside, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks.

there was alexia, but instead of practicing football, she was…dancing. and with mapi, of all people. they seemed to be attempting the tango - or at least something that resembled it. your girlfriend was, of course, leading, her movements focused and graceful.

mapi, on the other hand, was clearly less enthusiastic about the whole thing. “why am i doing this? i don't want to do this!”, she complained, barely trying to follow alexia's lead.

your girlfriend, already looking annoyed, sighed in frustration. “you need to be closer. i can't do this if you're standing a mile away from me.”

mapi threw her hands up. “i don't want to be closer, i need my space! i want to be free, not glued to you!”

you stood silently at the edge of the pitch, trying to stifle your laughter as you watched the scene unfold. alexia, determined as always, restarted the routine, but mapi still kept stumbling over the steps. your girlfriend's patience was running thin, the vein on her forehead looking ready to pop.

“come on, mapi. you're not even trying now. is it really so hard to follow a few steps?” her voice rose in frustration. “it's so much easier with ingrid! why do you always have to make everything so difficult!”

“well, i am not ingrid! and i am trying!”, mapi shot back, stamping her foot and refusing to take another step. alexia took a sharp breath, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “dios mio, i've had enough! you are no help.”, she huffed, rolling her eyes. she spun around, ready to storm off the pitch, but then her eyes fell on you.

she froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “oh, no.”

you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you stepped onto the pitch. “oh, yes.”

alexia blinked, trying to recover. “it's not what it looks like…”

you raised an eyebrow. “it looked like you were trying to dance.”, you teased, coming to a stop in front of her. “so this is what you've been up to?”

alexia blushed, looking everywhere but you, thinking of ways to get out of the situation. “it's just been a few times…”, she mumbled.

but mapi, who clearly had enough, jumped in. “a few times? she's been dragging ingrid into this for weeks! alexia stole my girlfriend - ingrid's always busy with her now. she barely even talks to me at training! and now i had to dance, too.”

you laughed, watching your girlfriend grow more embarrassed by the second. “i see. and you didn't tell me because…?”

alexia ran a hand through her hair, giving you a sheepish smile. “i just… wanted to impress you.”, she murmured quietly.

you chuckled softly, moving closer and cupping her cheek. “you're so silly, my love.”

your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i'm sorry?”, she said with a crooked smile.

shaking your head, you leaned in to kiss her again, only to be interrupted by loud gagging coming from mapi. “ugh, can you not? this is torture.”

you both laughed, breaking apart as alexia turned to her best friend. “you're one to talk. and just so you know, i'll never dance with you again.”

at that, mapi began to laugh happily. “thank god!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[ikeubaekgu]

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE EATING PUSSYYYYY

first work guys!! support pleaseee <3333

HEESEUNG | is a weak man when it comes to your pleasure. he would do anything in his power to hear your pretty sounds, he will do anything to see you writhe and shake underneath his weight, so gorgeous for him when your eyes roll all the way in the back of your skull and your plump lips part in pleasure when he’s working his magic on you. so don’t be surprised when he wants you to enjoy the sight too! getting you on your knees and facing a mirror as he spreads your ass cheeks open, relishing in the way your greedy little cunt clenches even without him doing anything to it. loving the way your body jumps forward slightly when he spits on your hole before completely digging in, hot tongue relentlessly fucking into your heat. he would be so messy, a mix of his spit and your juices just running down his chin and getting all over his sheets. he’d be grunting in pleasure and mumbling against your cunt to keep your eyes on yourself baby, literally working himself up by just thinking about how gorgeous you must look as you get near your orgasm. he gets so needy for your release he grabs your hips and fucks you back on his tongue, so harshly and fast your arms just collapse because it feels too good. poor little thing, your face smushed against his sheets as you get all your pretty makeup and drool on it, hee turning you into a dumb little slut with his tongue only.

JAY | always loves to eat you out, but he enjoys doing it particularly when you’re tired or you’ve had a rough day. he loves pampering and taking care of you, and it’s no different when he lays back and urges you to get on top of him with that signature lopsided smirk of his. he’s so gentle when he slides his hands all over your thighs and ass, caressing them with such care, his eyes glimmering as he encourages you to fully sit on him, to let him take care of you, angel girl. his movements would be so slow, agonizingly so. he wants you to just put all your weight on him and relax, let him worship you like the goddess you are in his mind. he’d keep his eyes closed, savoring every single moment too as he slides his tongue along your slit, gently circling your clit a few times and humping the air when he feels just how responsive you are to his touch, no matter how slight. totally slides his hands up to your lower back and hips, the contrast between his rough hands but careful grip sending shivers through your entire body, especially when he parts from your heat for a second to just whisper how much he loves you, how much he loves this cunt and how good you taste, before diving back in and rocking your body back on forth on his tongue until you make a mess all over his mouth.

JAKE | is so fucking nasty. he would spend every waking hour between your thighs if he could, and he does try. it gets to a point where sometimes you feel a little bad, you want to return the favor but everytime he just asks for you to just let him eat your cunt once more? you don’t seem to get that he does this for his pleasure too. he just loves your pussy and her taste so bad.

still, you also want to pleasure him. so why not suck his cock while he eats you out? the best of both worlds! and he becomes absolutely obsessed with it. just shamelessly thrusting his hips up into your mouth as he groans and moans and pants against your wet hole. he’s just so happy you let him eat you out as much as he wants now. he loves sucking on your clit, making downright obscene sounds, while fingering your cunt open with his thick and long digits, always challenging you to fit more and more. you’re so drenched sometimes he thinks he could fit his whole hand inside you. would literally hold your legs around his face after you come, because it’s still not enough. so into overstimulating the shit out of you, to the point you’re not even really sucking his cock anymore but doing something closer to gagging on it as he fucks your mouth. don't even think about squirting in his mouth because he will fuck it back inside you and try to get you to do that again. just insatiable.

SUNGHOON | is a lot more meticulous when he’s stressed or irritated. he likes to use every single toy he can think of on you, especially when he’s eating you out. there’s vulnerability in letting someone else pleasure you like that, and he loves to make sure you never forget that. making you hold your own legs so you’re bent all nicely for him, giving him the freedom of doing absolutely anything he wants to you. his bushy eyebrows furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your tits, your pretty clit delicious in his mouth as he sucks on it while slowly inching one of your dildos inside your hole. because of course, you think you’re so slick owning all of this nasty shit. well he can use that better too, he just knows your body so well. slowly teasing the toy in like he would his own tip, making you beg just for some stupid plaything like you would for his thick cock. and if you did anything to make him mad like the slutty brat you are, don’t even think about letting your legs go for even a second, no matter how good his mouth feels. because he will stop and strip your peak right under you. opting instead to land repeated slaps right on your clit, telling you that’s all you’ll get, cum like this and show him you're sorry, show him how good you are. and you do. you squirt around nothing, soaking your own hands that are still holding your thighs open, tight little hole convulsing like it’s begging for anything to fill it up. and while hoon is finally calming down and going back to your usually loving boyfriend, he thinks he just might give it something for real this time.

[aniimoni]

Do you have a Lamb reference for your COTL Lamb design + do they have a name and what's their personality like? (asking because I wanna draw them)

AHHHHH I’m taking this as an opportunity to gush about my lamb, if you don’t mind anon.

First things first:

There you go, HtK AU updated ref, all nice and pretty (Hello Balls, don’t mind this)

Now, as for your other questions:

My lamb doesn’t have a name! They are mostly referred to as “Lamb”, “Holy Lamb”, plus some other nicknames. They DID have a name, but they’ve grown detached from it due to godhood getting the best of them (more on that laterrrr)

PERSONALITY!!!!! Boy do they have a personality. I would say that pre-final battle they were VERY animated. Like- look at this:

It was difficult for them to adapt this “non-chalant” manner that was expected of them. They have always been an expressive, genuine, and “chalant” being.

But of course,, uhhhhhh…….. “lore stuff” happened.

After that, they’re more cold towards their followers (though they will put an act up sometimes), with some exceptions, of course (cough disciples cough cough)

They also develop a temper problem.

Which may or may not be mostly reserved for someone special 😇

It just really depends on which lamb we’re looking at.

Pre-Final Battle: animated, expressive, genuine, “chalant”

Post-Final Battle: mostly cold/distant (with exceptions), in-genuine, situationally temperamental

Honestly, I am REALLY glad you sent this ask because I got to talk about my lamb EVEN MOREEEEEE!!!! I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve come regarding the way that I draw them.

(btw, person who sent an ask asking more questions about the keloid: I’m working on it, I promise!!! Thank youuuuu!!!!)

Augh god, anon, there’s just so much I could tell you about my lamb- but I will spare all of you. Though now i’m wondering who exactly is behind this 🤨 Anyhow, this was very sweet! Don’t feel pressured to draw my lamb 🫶🏼 You got me to actually go through with my plan to redraw the reference page I had lol

[kiwriteswords]

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, "I love you."

AN: Since you guys seem to like the Shy!Reader drabbles!

Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: Everyone

TW: shy!reader, alcohol mention

Five times you were shy around Aaron Hotchner because of your underlying feelings for him + one time, Aaron Hotchner was shy around you because of his underlying feelings for you.

one.

The office was unusually quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of computers. The rest of the team was out in the field, leaving just you and Aaron Hotchner behind to finish reviewing the case files for the next briefing.

You glanced at the clock. It was just after 6 p.m. Most people would be winding down their day, but for the BAU, the hours always seemed to blend together. Of course, you didn’t mind—working with the best agents in the FBI was an honor, but working directly under Aaron Hotchner, your team leader and a respected figure in the bureau? That was something else entirely.

And today, you were supposed to help him with the case files for the recent kidnapping case. Alone.

“Ready?” His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you nearly jumped. You didn’t have the time to dissect why this man--your boss, made you feel this way. As if every time he looked at you, it felt like he could see things differently--more than anyone else. You felt a level of exposure you were not quite used to. It wasn’t bad, no. Just made you feel sort of funny inside. 

“Uh, yes, yes, sir. Just—just a second.” You scrambled to gather your papers, your hands suddenly clammy as you fumbled with the file in front of you. Great start, you mentally scolded yourself.

You could feel his eyes on you, calm and patient, as you tried to compose yourself. Hotch, with his sharp features and intense gaze, sat down beside you at the long conference table, his presence commanding even though he said nothing. As usual, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, tie still impeccably knotted despite the long day.

He always looked so put together, so composed, and here you were, barely able to keep from dropping the entire file on the floor.

And that was the thing about Aaron Hotchner’s microscope; it was never him purposefully looking at you--through you with judgment. Just through a different lens, you could feel it. 

“Okay,” you breathed out, finally opening the folder and staring at the first page, willing yourself to focus. But of course, all you could focus on was him sitting beside you, his arm brushing ever so slightly against yours as he leaned in to review the documents.

Hotch’s voice broke the silence again. “I noticed some inconsistencies in the witness statements,” he said, pointing at a section in the report. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the proximity making your heartbeat quicken.

“Right, um, inconsistencies. Yes, I—I saw those too,” you stammered, your voice just a little higher than usual. You could feel your cheeks burning. Pull it together.

As you reached to turn the page, your fingers trembled slightly, and the edges of the papers crinkled under your grip. You cursed yourself internally. He’s going to think I don’t know what I’m doing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hotch glance at you. His brow furrowed, not in frustration, but in something softer—concern, maybe? Before you could stop yourself, you began speaking too fast, trying to fill the silence.

“I mean, the statements are definitely off, like you said. I was just thinking, you know, we could um, cross-check them against the surveillance footage from the convenience store and maybe, uh, match the timestamps, because—well, um, obviously, you’ve probably already thought of that, but I just thought…”

You trailed off when you realized Hotch wasn’t looking at the file anymore. He was looking at you. And oh god, that made things so much worse. You felt the tips of your ears burning now, and you quickly looked down at the paper in front of you, pretending to reread the same line over and over just to avoid his gaze.

“You’re doing fine,” Hotch said softly, his voice cutting through your spiraling thoughts.

You looked up, blinking in surprise. His expression was calm, reassuring even, as though he could sense how flustered you were. For a moment, you thought you saw the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I—thanks,” you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. This was Aaron Hotchner—your boss, your colleague. And yet, here you were, acting like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.

Well, because you did have a crush. A big one. A ridiculous, all-consuming crush that you had been battling for months now. And being this close to him, feeling his presence so close—it was like your brain short-circuited every time. His cologne, his energy--everything that surrounded your senses was just like a drug making your brain work in ways it really shouldn’t be when you have a job to do.

Hotch nodded, his attention returning to the file in front of you, but the moment didn’t pass unnoticed. The air between you felt different now--lighter. As if he understood, on some level, that your nerves weren’t because of the case, but because of him. 

You worked in silence after that, the tension slowly ebbing away. But every now and then, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as if he was still watching, still noticing.

And for the first time, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, Aaron Hotchner noticed you too.

two.

It had already been a morning and a half. The team had gathered for a debrief, with everyone scattered around their desks reviewing the latest case notes. You felt the weight of exhaustion after the last long night, and from the looks of it, so did everyone else. It was natural for these long hours to catch up to you all eventually. 

“Coffee run?” you asked, glancing around at the others. JJ and Spencer immediately nodded, followed by Morgan flashing you a grateful smile.

“I could use about three cups,” Emily quipped, massaging her temples.

You smiled back and quickly made your way to the break room. As you stood by the machine, the familiar hum of it brewing filled the room. You glanced at the lineup of mugs in your arms, including the one you had specifically set aside for Hotch. His was easy to pick out—simple, just like the man himself.

For some reason, even the simple act of grabbing coffee for him made you feel jittery. Maybe it was because of the way he always carried himself—calm, collected, completely in control. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, like he was always assessing, always paying attention.

Or maybe it was because you had the world’s most inconvenient crush on your boss.

You sighed and shook your head. It's just coffee. Be normal.

When the machine finally finished, you loaded the cups and returned to the bullpen. As you handed the team their drinks, your nerves started to build as you approached Hotch’s office. His door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, you could see him typing away on his computer, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You knocked softly, pushing the door open a little wider. “Coffee?”

Hotch glanced up, his eyes softening for a brief moment as he saw you standing there, juggling the last two mugs. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm but as professional as always.

You stepped forward, holding out his cup. “Uh, here,” you said, your voice coming out a little I quickly. As he reached for it, your fingers accidentally brushed against his.

The contact was fleeting but sent a jolt through your whole body. Your breath hitched, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of how close he was. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, and you swore he must have heard it. You tried to ignore how your hand trembled slightly, but it was impossible with Hotch standing right there.

For a second, he didn’t move. His gaze flickered down to your hand, then back up to meet your eyes, and you could have sworn there was a flicker of amusement in his expression as if he was beginning to catch on to the hold he had over you. He took the cup from you carefully, his touch deliberate and slow. 

“Thank you,” he repeated, but this time, there was something softer in his tone. His lips curved ever so slightly—a small smile, barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. You always were.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Why am I such a mess around him?

“Oh—uh, no problem,” you managed to stammer, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. You took a step back, desperate to escape before you embarrassed yourself further. “Enjoy your coffee, Hotch.”

You turned to leave, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly—a rare sound, one that sent another rush of heat through you. You could only hope he didn’t notice how flustered you were. But then again, judging by that tiny smile, he already had.

three.

A grueling case with long hours and high tension called for alcohol and camaraderie. When Rossi suggested they all unwind at a nearby bar after wrapping things up, no one argued. The idea of a drink and a few hours of normalcy was too tempting to pass up--and much needed.

You found yourself sitting at a long table with the rest of the team, squeezed between JJ and Hotch. Normally, that would have sent your nerves into overdrive, but after the first glass of wine—and then the second—you felt your anxiety loosen just a bit. Just enough to breathe without overthinking every little move you made next to him.

The conversation flowed easily around you, with Morgan and Garcia trading playful banter while Spencer tried to argue some statistic about criminal behavior. You laughed along, but every time Hotch spoke, your focus snapped to him. You couldn’t help it. It was like your mind was on high alert every time he addressed the group, or worse—you directly.

“Good work on the case,” he said at one point, turning to you with that intense gaze of his. “You managed the witness interviews really well. I think it made a difference.”

Your heart lurched. He was complimenting you—praising your work in front of the whole team. The sudden attention made your pulse quicken, and you could feel your face heating up despite the buzz from the drinks.

Before you could stop yourself, the words just spilled out.

With a slightly bolder tone than you usually used around him, you turned to face him fully, giving him a playful smile. “Well, maybe I just wanted to impress you, Hotch.”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how bold they sounded. You raised your glass slightly, locking eyes with him for a moment longer than necessary. You’d just flirted with your boss. There was no going back now.

Hotch blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then a slow smile—rare but devastating—appeared on his face. “Is that right?” he replied, his voice low and most definitely amused. 

Your heart practically stopped, but before you could spiral too much, JJ leaned over with a laugh. “Well, someone’s confident tonight.” 

You hadn’t even realized that not only did you flirt with Hotch, but you happened to do it in front of your coworkers--your profiling coworkers. Ones that were well-trained and versed in all sorts of fucked up psychology that “having an apparent crush on your older boss” would fall under. 

The moment passed quickly, and the conversation shifted again, but your head was spinning. The buzz from the drinks had officially worn off, leaving you hyper-aware of everything. You spent the rest of the night trying to avoid looking directly at Hotch, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t taken your words too seriously.

By the time you walked into work the next morning, the weight of what happened at the dinner hit you full force. I flirted with Hotch. The realization felt like a brick sinking in your stomach.

You avoided his office all morning, burying yourself in paperwork and case files. Every time someone walked past your desk, you jumped, paranoid that it would be him coming to say something—anything—about last night.

Why did I have to say that? What was I thinking?

By midday, you were a ball of nerves. Every interaction with Hotch now felt loaded, as if you were walking on a tightrope. When he passed by your desk and gave you a small nod of acknowledgment, you nearly knocked your coffee over, your hands trembling as you tried to act casual.

You could still feel the burn of embarrassment every time you remembered how easy the words had slipped out. And the worst part? He hadn’t seemed uncomfortable at all. If anything, he had smiled. That tiny, knowing smile that you couldn’t get out of your head.

Later, when you were both in the conference room, going over case files, the tension felt unbearable. You barely managed to string together coherent answers every time he asked you a question, your brain too busy screaming Don’t be awkward.

But even in your shyness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered what you said. If maybe, somewhere behind that calm, professional exterior, Aaron Hotchner had actually been flustered, too?

four. 

Everyone else had left hours ago, but you were still there, finishing up some paperwork that seemed never-ending. The only sound was the soft clicking of your keyboard and the occasional creak of your chair as you shifted positions. Being the newest member on the team, you often double- or even triple-check everything, afraid it would be wrong. This cost you a lot of your spare time, but in fairness, what else did you have going on? 

You weren’t surprised that Aaron Hotchner was still there, too. He was always the last to leave, always pushing himself past his limits. It was one of the things you admired about him—and maybe one of the reasons you found it so hard to concentrate whenever you were alone with him.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past 9 p.m., and the fatigue from the long day was starting to settle into your bones. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes when you heard footsteps approaching. Before you could turn around, Hotch’s calm, steady voice cut through the silence.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” he said softly, standing just behind your desk. “Maybe it’s time for a break.”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment. You hadn’t realized how quiet it was until his voice filled the space. His tone almost vibrating against your ears. 

You quickly straightened up, trying to act casual, though you could already feel your pulse quickening.

“Oh, uh, yeah… probably a good idea,” you said, a bit too quickly. You glanced up at him, and for a split second, you wished you hadn’t. He was standing close—too close—and the sight of him with his tie slightly loosened, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sent a fresh wave of nervousness through you. Why did he always have to look so effortlessly composed?

Hotch tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. “I was about to make some tea,” he said, his voice low and calming. “Would you like some?”

Tea. Something about the simplicity of the offer made your heart flutter. “Sure,” you replied, smiling faintly. “Tea sounds nice.”

A few minutes later, Hotch returned with two steaming mugs. He set one down beside your stack of papers and took a seat in the chair next to yours. 

You quickly pulled your hand back, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your breath caught in your throat. But of course, he noticed everything. That’s who he was.

“Long day,” he said quietly, sipping his tea and glancing over at you.

You nodded, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling. “Yeah. Feels like the days are getting longer.”

Hotch smiled softly, a rare but welcome sight. “I’d say you handled it well.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments from Aaron Hotchner were few and far between, and when they came, they always seemed to hit harder than you expected. You swallowed nervously, feeling the familiar heat rising to your cheeks.

“T-Thanks,” you stammered, looking down at your tea and willing yourself not to blush. But it was no use. You were hyper-aware of how close he was, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Every word you could have said stuck in your throat, as if your mind had gone blank.

There was a brief silence, the kind that felt charged with something unspoken. Hotch leaned back in his chair slightly, his gaze steady on you. You could feel it—his calm presence, his quiet strength—and it only made your nerves worse. How did he manage to make small talk feel so intense?

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “You’re already doing more than enough. There’s nothing you need to prove--you deserve to be here.”

Your breath caught again. Was he worried about you? The thought made your heart race even faster. You tried to find the right words, but they felt stuck. All you could manage was a small, awkward laugh. “I guess I’m just trying to keep up with you.”

Hotch’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you swore there was something in his eyes—something warmer, more personal. He didn’t respond right away, just held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire now, and you quickly took a sip of your tea, hoping it would calm your racing heart. But the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a quiet understanding had passed between the two of you, something unspoken but undeniably there.

Maybe he put together all of the pieces and realized you were hopelessly crushing on him, so he had pity and let you be. Maybe he thought men made you nervous--but then again, he’d seen you all buddy-buddy with Reid or even Morgan.

As the minutes passed, the tension slowly ebbed away, but the closeness remained. Hotch’s presence beside you felt reassuring, yet it kept your pulse thrumming in a way that made you wish you could stay like this just a little longer. Even if it meant fumbling over your words, you wouldn’t mind.

five.

The overhead lights buzzed softly, and the air was thick with the smell of coffee. You were sitting at the round table in the conference room, papers spread out in front of you, piecing together a presentation for the case debrief tomorrow. Your focus was sharp, and for once, you weren’t thinking about how close Hotch was sitting. Well, almost.

Aaron Hotchner was seated at the head of the table, reviewing files and notes from his section of the case, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between you felt comfortable—until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Hotch spoke up, breaking the quiet. “Your organizational skills are impressive,” he said, his tone casual but sincere. “I don’t know how you keep all of this together so efficiently.”

You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook in front of you. He complimented you--again. The words sunk in slowly, and you could feel your face start to burn. Why did he always catch you off guard like this?

“I—uh, thanks,” you stammered, suddenly feeling the need to escape. Your heart raced as you realized how flustered you must look, your cheeks burning under his calm gaze. You barely managed to glance up at him, but his expression wasn’t teasing. It was soft, warm even.

“I just try to stay on top of things,” you mumbled, pushing your chair back too quickly. The sound echoed through the room, making you cringe. You could feel your face turning crimson as you gathered up your papers in a rush, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Why did he have to say something so nice? Why did you have to react like this every time?

You gave him a brief, awkward smile and practically bolted for the door. “I-I need to get this to JJ,” you blurted out, even though you had no intention of doing so.

As you reached the doorway, your hand on the handle, you heard him call your name—soft but unmistakable. You froze in place, half-turned, not daring to look back fully.

“By the way,” he said, his voice still calm but a touch more serious. “You don’t need to rush out every time I give you a compliment.”

Your breath caught, and for a split second, you weren’t sure if you could move. There was no teasing in his tone, no sharpness—just a quiet, sincere warmth. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Hotch noticed more than you thought.

You finally turned slightly toward him, meeting his gaze briefly. “I… I’ll try not to,” you whispered, your voice shaky but honest. Without waiting for a response, you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest.

And as you left the room, you heard Hotch chuckle softly to himself. It wasn’t cruel; it was amused, affectionate even. That only made things worse.

As you walked down the hall, the sound of his words still echoed in your mind, replaying over and over. You didn’t need to rush out every time he complimented you. And for the first time, you wondered what might happen if you didn’t.

+one

It had been weeks since the last case that left you fleeing the conference room after Aaron Hotchner’s casual compliment about your organizational skills. You’d spent every day since trying to keep your interactions with him as short and as professional as possible, but avoiding him entirely wasn’t exactly an option. You were part of the team, and your role often required working closely with him. That only made your constant nervousness more exhausting.

Every time he passed by your desk, every time he said your name in that calm, authoritative tone, your heart would skip a beat. The nerves were always there, simmering just under the surface. You weren’t sure if he noticed how flustered you got around him or if he simply chalked it up to work stress. Either way, it made every interaction with him feel like walking on a tightrope.

And today was no different after another intense case had finally been closed. You were finishing paperwork at your desk when you saw Hotch step out of his office, his eyes scanning the bullpen. The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted.

He started walking over, his strides purposeful. You tried to keep your face neutral, even as the heat rushed to your cheeks. Stay calm. It’s just work.

You looked up at him when he stopped before your desk, forcing a smile. “Do you need something?”

Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes seemed different today. Less intense, more… hesitant? “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you quickly nodded, not trusting your voice. You grabbed your notepad, assuming it was something case-related, and followed him back into his office.

As you stepped inside, he closed the door behind you. The click of the latch made the room feel suddenly smaller--more intimate. You turned to face him, clutching your notepad like a shield.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

Hotch didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he walked over to his desk, leaning against it, his arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in the way he looked at you—something that made your pulse quicken.

“I’ve noticed,” he began, his voice measured but quieter than usual, “that you’ve been avoiding me.”

Your stomach dropped. He noticed. You hadn’t thought it was that obvious, but of course, this was Aaron Hotchner. He noticed everything.

“I… I h-haven’t been avoiding you,” you stammered, though you knew it was a lie. “I’ve just been busy. Lots of cases lately, you know.”

Hotch’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not what it feels like.”

You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to overwhelm you. He wasn’t angry; his tone wasn’t harsh or accusatory, but there was a weight to his words that made your throat go dry. He uncrossed his arms and took a small step toward you, closing the gap between you just enough to make your breath hitch.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he continued, his voice softer now. “But I’ve noticed how you’ve been acting around me. And I have to admit, it’s been difficult to ignore.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing. Was he going to reprimand you for being unprofessional? Did he think you couldn’t handle your job because of the way you acted around him? Would he send you off to report to someone different? You felt the familiar heat rising in your cheeks and wished you could disappear.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been… awkward,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. At this moment, you felt like a small child, “It’s just—”

Before you could finish, Hotch interrupted, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. “You don’t have to explain. I think I know why.”

His words hung in the air between you, and suddenly, everything felt different. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “You do?”

Hotch took another small step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. He was so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. For the first time, you noticed the way his usually composed features seemed more vulnerable—like he was grappling with something inside himself.

“I’ve noticed because I’ve been feeling the same way,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stopped. He feels the same way? Your mind struggled to process what he was saying. Aaron Hotchner, your boss—the man who was always in control, always so composed—was confessing that he had feelings for you?

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and all you could do was stare at him in stunned silence.

Hotch ran a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture that sent a ripple of shock through you. He seemed just as uneasy as you were, as though he wasn’t used to being in this position—being vulnerable. “I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reaction. “But…but I can’t anymore.”

The silence between you felt thick with unspoken words, with all the tension and longing that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. And now it was all out in the open.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Hotch smiled—just a small, almost shy smile that you’d never seen from him before. He let out a soft chuckle, “Neither do I. This is… new for me.”

Your mind was still racing, but somewhere amidst the chaos, you realized that he wasn’t just confessing to you. He was just as nervous, just as unsure. For the first time, Aaron Hotchner—the man who always seemed unshakable—was standing in front of you, vulnerable and open.

You felt a surge of courage then, maybe fueled by the realization that this wasn’t one-sided. He was just as affected by you as you were by him. Slowly, you took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you.

“I didn’t think you’d ever notice,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly, though steadier than before. You took a breath, forcing yourself to keep eye contact, despite the fluttering nerves in your stomach. “I thought I was just… making a fool of myself. That you’d think I was unprofessional.”

Hotch’s expression softened, his gaze never leaving yours. He shook his head gently, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something more tender than you’d ever seen from him before. “You haven’t,” he said softly. “Believe me… I’ve noticed everything.”

The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time, you realized how closely he’d been watching, how much attention he’d been paying to all the little moments you thought were only one-sided. A warmth spread through you, melting away some of the nervous tension that had been building for months.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward anymore—it was charged, yes, but it was also full of something else. Understanding. Relief. The unspoken truth you’d both been dancing around finally laid bare.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, just stood there, the distance between you feeling impossibly small. You took a deep breath, your heart still pounding but lighter now, and offered him a small, hesitant smile. “So… what happens now?” you asked, your voice quieter, as if you weren’t sure you wanted the spell to break.

Hotch’s smile was subtle, but it reached his eyes this time, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “But I do know this… whatever we decide, we don’t need to rush.”

His words were steady and reassuring, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could breathe. The uncertainty was still there, yes, but so was the certainty that you weren’t alone in this anymore. That the feelings you’d been so afraid of had been mirrored all along.

You nodded slowly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Together, then?”

“Together,” he echoed, his voice quiet but firm.

And just as you turned to leave, feeling the tension melt away, Hotch called your name again. This time, his tone was softer, almost hesitant. You turned back to face him, your breath catching in your throat.

“One more thing,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve spent a lot of time noticing you. Maybe now… we don’t have to hide it anymore?”

His words lingered in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You swallowed hard, your heart racing again, but it wasn’t from nerves this time. It was from the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

You smiled a genuine smile this time. “I’d like that.”

With that, you left his office feeling lighter than you had in months. And for the first time, the uncertainty ahead didn’t feel so daunting.

tag list:

@zaddyhotchzaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

[missnxthingg]

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - We're close to an ending, I'm so sad 😭 Also, another big one, so don't forget to check part two and the original chapter!

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 2

yourusername

Zandvoort, Netherlands

yourusername Back to travelling the world! The stroopwafles were way too delicious 😋

username1 You're so effortlessly beautiful

username2 the comms queen is back! we missed you, y/n

landonorris save me a stroopwafel

↪yourusername you ate all that i had 🥺 ↪landonorris ooops sorry 🫣 ↪username3 he's so unhinged, i can't

f1gossip

f1gossip After spending summer break together, Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were seen very cosy in McLaren's garage in Zandvoort. Even though they've been best friends for years, they always prefered to not show any affection for each other during work to keep it professional. Do you guys think anything has changed?

username1 It's obvious that they've been together since Miami

↪username2 pretty rich of her to only get with him after he started winning ↪username3 A gold digger, that's for sure ↪username1 I didn't comment this for you weirdos to come and hate on Y/N. She's the sweetest and Lando really loves her.

username4 god, i hope they really are together 🥺 just look at lando's summer break pics, they absolutely love each other

↪username5 and let's pray that if they are together, that they will share it with us. so many love them together, but i think they'll keep it very private ↪username6 Lando always did that to keep Y/N and Ollie safe. He knows how things work when you're famous

username7 I'M SO READY FOR THIS

oscarpiastri added to their close friends' stories

Caption: I don't think that's very professional 👀

↪yourusername replied to your story: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

↪oscapiastri: it's on close friends ↪yourusername: one small mistake and this would've been up the internet. as a friend AND pr, i would've murdered you ↪oscarpiastri: sorry, y/n

↪landonorris replied to your story: send it to me, mate

↪oscarpiastri: you had a better reaction them y/n ↪oscarpiastri: sending it

landonorris

landonorris Yup 🏆 More like it

tagged: yourusername

yourusename I love you, my race winner ❤ what a statement today!

↪landonorris I love you more

username1 THIS IS THE HARDEST LAUNCH OF ALL HARD LAUNCHES

username2 FUCKING FINALLY

username3 We lived to see Lando kissing Y/N right after winning with a 22 second gap in Max's home race 🥺

↪usename4 honestly, i don't think life can get any better than this

maxfewtrell Proper job this weekend brother. Put your shirt back on and stop being indecent with Y/N

↪maxfewtrell (I'm happy for you two, btw) ↪yourusername We love you, Maxie ❤ ↪landonorris Thanks, mate

username4 Gold digger 💀

↪username1 Stop it, we're not gonna let you ruin this for them ↪username2 you clearly don't know anything about them, so fuck off!

yourusername

yourusername Since he decided to give you hardest launch, here are some pics from the most amazing weekend of the year ❤ Proud of you, my love

tagged: landonorris

oscarpiastri Does this means that I can freely post pictures of you two on my stories?

↪yourusername NO ↪username1 YOU KNEW? ↪oscarpiastri Everybody and their mother knew

landonorris You make me the happiest ❤ I love you so much

↪yourusername I love you more ↪landonorris Impossible

username2 STOP THEY ARE SO CUTE

username3 mother, now feed us with all the unseen pics of you as a couple

↪yourusername Incoming...

username4 Don't you think that's a bit unprofessional? She's literally wearing a McLaren uniform

↪username5 They have always kept things professional while on the paddock, and clearly this doesn't affect his race results ↪username6 I know someone said it before, but we will not tolerate this type of comment about their relationship. Lando loves her and she loves him. Period.

username7 all of our dreams literally came true 🥺 i'm so happy

↪username8 us lando stans have never been so happy to see our boy happy

landofan

landofan Since they finally told everyone about their relationship, we rescued some pictures of Lando and Y/N (and Ollie) through the years. We're so happy to finally see them together ❤ We also want to take the opportunity to say that we fully support this relationship and that we'll not tolerate hate comments towards Y/N. It's clear that she makes Lando very happy and that this is very special to them.

tagged: landonorris, yourusername

username1 THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE CUTEST

username2 i swear they are going to have the prettiest family in the future

username3 I need a wedding and thousands of kids from them

yoursername Thank you so much for the message! It means a lot to me (and also, the cute baby Ollie pics, ty for bringing them back to me).

↪landofan OMG! tysm queen ❤ we love you together and we'll always have your back

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

[temilyrights]

"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt

emily prentiss x reader

no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.

sentence fic prompt

You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emily’s car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no. 

“All this to prove a point?” You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes. 

Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morgan’s apartment, a determined glint in her eye. “Better personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasn’t left the building since!”

You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, “Yeah but he’s also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.”

Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. “He can’t make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.” 

“Well maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldn’t need to prove it and you’d have a private life he couldn’t argue with.”  

She scoffs, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Always so clueless.

You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. “I’m right here.”

Emily’s frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, “I invited you out for dinner tonight and instead we’re stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.”

“Reservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.” She says with genuine confusion. 

“No, I booked that nice Indian place you like.” 

“Oh,” She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I just need to know, okay? Because maybe I’m just failing to get the hint and you’re really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.” 

“You like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.” She says slowly, words strangled.

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell.” She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. “I’m so sorry. I will make this up to you. I’m taking you for the best date night starting right now.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait so that’s a-?”

She smiles, wide and happy, “Yes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?”

You can’t help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition. 

“Ready to go?” She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on. 

“There’s just one thing first.” Because you can’t wait a moment longer. You’ve waited years. 

You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emily’s eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours. 

Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away. 

“Mmmhmm,” Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. “We can definitely do that again.”

“Food?” You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy. 

“Oh, babes, I’ve got the perfect place.”

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 64 analysis // spoiler

the desire to be loved that distances her more and more from people: we are finally starting to understand a little more about yasaka's past.

unlike what I thought, the first spark that gave shape to the kyoto arc didn't come from shima or the girl groups, but from one of the most enigmatic characters in skip to loafer: yasaka.

we always knew very little about her and how her story unfolded. all we had was the understanding that she was a very lonely person with a complicated family situation and someone who sought people's love. and now, together with mitsumi, we are starting to understand more about where she was going with when she said that mitsumi had always been too loved to not care about what others thought.

yasaka clearly has a great desire to be loved, but she doesn't know exactly how to make people create stronger bonds with her. she believes that by being a person who is liked and desired by everyone and making these people feel good, she will get everything she wants — and this illusion may have been the result of a troubled relationship with her father, something that I believe is possible due to the small flashback she provides us.

she wants to be loved, she wants people to look at her with affection and not disapproval. being loved, pampered, praised is the way she understands love, something probably the result of a strict upbringing, where demanding anything more would result in a disappointed look. to escape this, yasaka always acts like a good girl, who gives double meaning answers and only says what others want to hear. the superficiality of the love she receives is enough to soften her ego and feed her well-being and the superficiality of the love she gives is enough to protect her from getting hurt.

but of course all of this is just a time bomb that is very close to exploding. yasaka puts on this persona of someone who does not want to be completely understood, but is unable to separate her frustration from the desire to form more meaningful relationships. she is not only shielding herself from people forming more mature relationships with her, but also doing her best to maintain superficiality so that her mask doesn't fall. another thing that solidifies this for me is the central page of yasaka surrounded by “affection” and gifts, showing exactly the loss of her childhood and the desire she still carries within her.

and what I like most about all of this is how mitsumi, someone completely opposite to her and who barely knows her, tries at all costs to cross this barrier that yasaka places between her and the world. by not allowing her to leave and insisting that she stay with the group, mitsumi is basically confirming to yasaka that it's okay for her to have her flaws and receive disapproving looks: her presence is still required and she is still a person who complements the group as a whole.

I really like how sensei is always willing to put two completely opposite characters so that they can externalize their flaws and fight against their barriers — and the relationship between mitsumi and yasaka is exactly another great example of this. on one side we have mitsumi, who grew up surrounded by love and affection, that’s why she’s so sure of herself and doesn’t need to seek validation on others. on the other, we have yasaka who craves affection so much to the point that she will drown herself in any small glass of it.

another thing i want to point out about this chapter is how being in love can blind you for flaws of the one you admire so much. when ujiie realized that yasaka isn’t the perfect girl he always saw, the first instinct he had was to deny it: of course his goddess wouldn’t have a flaw!! she’s 100% that girl he idolizes and loves so much. but what if this was all something he made up inside his mind?? how will ujiie deal with this heartbreaking of a confession?

another month blessed with another gorgeous chapter. sensei keeps surprising me more and more and can’t wait to see what she’s keeping as a secret from us. thank you so much for reading 💛!!

[tan1shere]

I'm Sorry

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: saw this video on tiktok of this girl accidentally breaking a gift her bf got her and her being so apologetic, and I can just imagine how bill would be with you:(

Summary: Billie reassures you when you accidentally break her gift.

Warnings: none just fluff ! Kinda angst tho ??

Masterlist

It was time again. Your birthday, just another year of getting older. You were currently laying in bed, half asleep as the sun was shining through the curtains. You then feel hands on your shoulders. "Babyy, its your birthday!" Billie sings as she says that. You cover your face. "Does it have to be." She plops down on the bed. "Oh come on, it's not every day you're 21!" You open an eye to see she had a few gifts. Your other eye opens as you look at her. "Bubba, I thought we agreed on two at most." She puts her finger up to your lips. "I couldn't help myself."

You sigh with a bright smile, sitting up to prepare for her little gifts. She hands you the first one, some clothes you had been wanting. Next up, some skin care. She was always so thoughtful of the things you needed. And lastly, maybe your favorite. You open up the wrapping revealing a glass red rose. You marvel at it. "I know how much you love roses and how upset you get when they start to die, but this way you can have it all the time." She smiles at you. Your eyes meet hers as you almost have tears in them. You leap over to hug her tightly.

"Thank you baby! I love it so so much." She smiles. "Knew you would." Her hands grab your face, thumb swiping over your cheek. "Happy birthday angel." She leans in to kiss you softly, so glad you like the gifts. "Some of them came from your mother. I put them in a vase already for you." You then kiss her cheek, placing the glass rose down on the bedside table. "Thank you babe, I'll go smell them soon."

A few days pass and you honestly had the best birthday ever, Billie was spoiling you like crazy. Took you out for a nice meal too. Today you were working from home, doing some needed chores along the way. Bill was at Finneases working on some stuff in his studio. You did take a small break though. Getting into bed and scrolling for a glass case to put around your new gift. Just to make sure it's safe. You go to grab your water, but as you do. Eyes glued to your screen. You hear a shatter. Uh oh. Your head turns slowly.

Panic rising within you. "Fuck. No no no." You say frantically trying not to freak out. You get on the floor picking up the pieces. Shit. It was really broken. You cry. Cry because you broke the sweetest gift, given by the sweetest person and you broke it. You curse at yourself. You feel so stupid. You're an idiot your brain tells you.

How.

Could.

You.

You grab the pieces, but as you do you accidentally cut your finger. "Shit!" You winced. How could this get any worse. You pick up any remaining shards. Standing up and contemplating. She was gunna hate you. You thought. You don't blame her, you had only just got it. Your hands go to your hair, all these bad thoughts rushing through. You were going to have a shower after you got the case. But now you don't even need the case because you stupidly broke the rose. So. Stupid. Your tears still streaming down your face, you felt so awful. The image of Billie being so hurt right after she was so excited giving it to you.

You get into the shower, sliding down the wall. All you could think about was how she was going to react when she comes home. The hot water ran over your crying form. You hadn't even heard the front door open and Billie calling out like she always does. Until you hear faint footsteps and the bathroom door open. "Baby?" Had she seen it yet...

"Y-yeah.." You reply, she opens up the curtain to see you in the position you were in. Confused as anything. "What's going on love?" She always knew when something was bothering you. "I'm so sorry." You pathetically cry out. "Baby, talk to me." She says stopping the water from running. You just shake your head, lip quivering. "Sweetheart, please." You take a moment. "Don't hate me." You weakly say. "How could I ever?" Her bewilderment made your heart ache more for what you are about to tell her.

"Go look on my bedside floor." Your voice was hushed. So incredibly worried as she goes to do so. Her eyes land on the last little bits of glass, looking at the shattered mess on your table. Her heart breaks, but not because you broke it and most definitely by accident. It was because you were so upset, she hated seeing you upset. She comes back in the room to you still in tears. "Bub, hey. It's ok." - "it's not. Im so sorry I'm so-" She stops your apologies. "Baby. We can fix it. It's fixable. And if not I'll just buy you another. I swear to you. It's all ok."

Her voice was tender. So soft and reassuring. Your crying settles just a bit. "Are you sure?" She nods. "So incredibly sure. I'm not mad my girl, never ever would be." Her hand extends out for yours. You take it and get out of the shower. "Are you hurt?" You pout at how sweet she was, you loved this woman to absolute death. "What?" She chuckles. You just shake your head. "Youre just so kind, I love you." She brings you in for a hug, you wrap your arms tightly around her. She couldn't give a single fuck that your body was dripping wet.

It lasted for a long time, before she pulls back and looks at you. "I did just a tiny bit but I'm ok." You state. "Where abouts?" You show her the red mark on your thumb, she grabs it. Bringing it to her lips as kissing it gently. "Like I said before if we can't fix it I'll buy a new one, this time with a case."

"Great idea."

[applestorms]

L can be such a possessive character at times. he always strikes me as the type of person who is deeply aware of everything that he owns, both in a more literal sense and metaphorically-- like, he knows what money he has and how to use it, what resources are readily available to him and what he has to be sneakier to utilize, the habits and tendencies and emotional states of individuals and world governments both. the DN musical really puts an emphasis on the more computer-y aspects of how his brain functions, which isn't as obvious in the manga/anime but i think still works well as a way to follow his thinking. it's kinda what near does too: everything is a factor to them, every tiny detail a new opening to optimize for the best results, every person and location and object a part of a puzzle waiting to be solved. and as a part of that, L is deeply aware of every and any little thing he may or may not have control over, and exactly to what degree.

his habit of stealing titles as depicted in the LABB murders novel is such a good example of this. ryuzaki, eraldo coil, deneuve. he eats people alive and then takes their names for himself like some kind of fucked up fae or trickster god, creating new masks and personas to hide behind from the remains of the people he's devoured. i have to wonder if he would've used the title of KIRA for himself had he won-- i can hardly imagine what kind of power such a title could hold if held in his hands. of course, he could've just used the defeat of KIRA as a way to build up the L title even further, offering up the body of a dead god like perseus showing off the head of medusa. but L is so emotionally attached to the kira case, i struggle to see him allowing it to fade from existence so thoroughly as near does, even if it is only kept close on a private level...

this is part of why i think it genuinely makes a lot of sense that L's ultimate win state would include capturing light to some degree. even if the memory of KIRA somehow manages to fully disappear from the public consciousness, there is no fucking way L is letting light yagami out of his grasp. honestly, the moment that L truly loses this game is not when he starts investigating misa while still under rem's watch, not when light gets back his memories, not even when he dies, but the moment when he allows light to be freed from the handcuffs. the moment when he allows the other members of the task force to turn off the cameras and keep him from watching light and misa talk in the lobby. the moment when he gives up, lets light yagami go outside of L's personal sphere of control, is the moment when L starts the clock ticking down to the end of his own life.

this is one of the key ways in which i see light as a true equal and parallel to L, as after L's death he, intentionally or no, continues the same tradition and takes L's title for himself, twisting the two sides together into the L-KIRA amalgamation. only, the L title functions a little bit differently than every other persona or title that we see in the series-- because L's true name is L. that's all that he is. on a literal, legal, and emotional level, i don't think that L is anything more than L. he is the world's greatest detective, he's an incredible, weirdo super genius, but he does not afford himself much more than that, barely allows himself personhood or humanity outside of his work. light was the one to ultimately defeat L because he did not just put a stain on his character (as BB attempted), did not just kill him, but stole his very identity and took it for himself.

one of the biggest contradictions of L's character that i think you must accept should you attempt to portray him accurately is that he is both deeply detached from humanity while also having all of his work and effort and life be focused around saving it. it's one of the ways in which he is an exact opposite to light-- where light relies on humanity for external validation, to be Seen, while also looking down on it as dumb and immoral and spineless, L is so separated from it that he barely exists as a person, all the while dedicating almost every action he takes to helping it. remember: for all the emotional turmoil that wammy's house and the legacy of L may put on the kids living there, ultimately it's entire existence is nothing more than L's logical solution to his potential demise. if he dies, the world goes down with him, all of the cases that are yet to happen and he is yet to solve being left in the air. he has the foresight to set up a fail safe, but not to consider the emotional implications of what being that fail safe might feel like, how high the price of your own humanity is if you are not already alienated from it, the inability to have your own name on your gravestone-- though perhaps some of the blame also falls on watari's shoulders in this case, philanthropic old bastard that he is.

imo, playing his game really got it right in presenting L and light as one and the same, synonyms on either side of the mirror. in every action they take they are both so selfishly selfless, playing the game for themselves and their own pleasure but plastering the needs and will of humanity on top of it. L isn't invested in saving humanity for the sake of humanity-- he just likes the thrill of having the stakes raised so high. hard to shit on ryuk for wanting entertainment when the humans he finds are just the same as him.

[childrenofcain-if]

If I can't have a D and C love triangle, it relies upon me to instead romance C and start drama by trying to steal their best friend 😌

MC just knocks on their door, C answers and MC just ducks under their arm to throw themselves on D's bed and chatter at them 😂

Even funnier if you have an MC with the same major as D, MC just makes excuses that they have questions about assignments every time they barge in there, C you can't kick us out 🥺😈

(Also funnier bc I totally see D as an enabler, they'd let MC do it even though they know MC is trying to piss off C just bc it's hilarious. I'll do those dumb TikTok videos with u 😌)

the dorm door swung open with more force than necessary, revealing C’s sharp green gaze, narrowed in suspicion. you offered a dazzling grin, the one that always got you in trouble in the best ways.

“really?” C asked dryly, leaning against the doorframe. “it’s nine in the morning. what is it this time?”

without answering, you ducked under C’s arm in a smooth, practiced motion, like a snake slipping past a gate. your shoes squeaked on the polished floor as you caught sight of D lounging on their bed from the open door to their room, propped up against a pile of haphazardly arranged pillows, a lazy grin already stretching across their face.

“rook!” you called, all energy as you practically threw yourself onto their bed, landing with a soft thud against their pillows. “got questions about the music theory assignment. you know, the one about the baroque fugues? totally can’t get this one part, and C won’t know how to explain music-related stuff to me.”

D raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at their lips. “sure. because that’s definitely why you’re here.”

C exhaled sharply, the sound exasperated, and turned to glare at you. “you do this every time. you’ve got your own room, you know. you’re basically acting like a freeloader here.”

“you can’t kick me out,” you said lightly, not bothering to look at them as you snatched D’s phone off the nightstand and flipped through their tiktok feed like you owned the entire place. “this isn’t just your suite. and besides, this is academic, C. rook is a sophomore in the same major as me and is way better at explaining these things than you.”

“right,” C said, crossing their arms. “totally academic. like last week when you were ‘asking about the homework’ but spent two hours watching a true crime documentary with D on their bed.”

D snorted, glancing up from their macbook. “i mean, it’s hard to say no when they bring interesting documentaries to watch. and memes. and snacks.”

C looked between the two of you, incredulous. “oh, so that’s how it is? you’re just enabling this now?”

D shrugged, smirking. “what can i say? they’re entertaining. and they did help my band get some really good social media exposure. it’s only fair.”

“see?” you chimed in, wiggling D’s phone at C in triumph. “rook gets it.”

C’s jaw clenched, their eyes flicking from you to D, then back to you. “je jure devant dieu, you’re doing this on purpose.”

you put a hand to your chest in mock offense. “on purpose? who, me? why, i’d never! why would i ever want to bother you, dear C? i’m just here for the assignments.”

D laughed openly now, closing garageband and setting their macbook down. “yeah, C. maybe they really need help. you wouldn’t want them to fail, would you?”

“i think they’ll survive,” C snapped, though the edge in their voice faltered when their best friend winked at them. they could tell that D was enjoying this far too much, feeding off their frustration like it was the funniest thing in the world. and the worst part? they weren’t even trying to hide it.

C pinched the bridge of their nose, muttering something about how they didn’t sign up for this when they agreed to become suitemates with D. but beneath the frustration, there was something that flickered in their eyes—a faint shadow of jealousy that you weren’t supposed to notice.

you stretched your arms above your head, taking up more space on D’s bed, much to C’s obvious displeasure.

“so, rook,” you started, turning to them with a mischievous grin, “when are we filming some more tiktoks? i’ve got a few ideas, and you’ll have to be my partner. C’s welcome to join, of course.”

D grinned indulgently. “oh, i’m in. C, you gonna grace us with your oh-so-broody presence?”

“i’m not broody.” C said, rolling their eyes and finally stepping into the room, shutting the door with a soft click. the tension in their posture hadn’t eased though. “and pass. i’m not making a fool of myself online for either of you idiots.”

“yet,” you teased, leaning back on D’s bed and enjoying the way C’s irritation simmered, their jaw clenched tight as they stood there. “you’ll cave eventually. you haven’t seen how... persuasive i can be sometimes, lacroix.”

†††

later, when you had finally left, having thoroughly disrupted the peace, C cornered D in the kitchen as they were making coffee for both of them.

“you’ve got to knock it off with them,” C said, voice low but edged with exasperation. “they’re just doing this to piss me off.”

D raised an eyebrow, casually leaning against the counter and handing C their cup. “okay, and?”

“and you’re encouraging it,” C snapped.

D’s lips curved into a slow, almost playful smile. “maybe i like having them around. they’re something else, don’t you agree?”

C’s stomach tightened, a knot of jealousy twisting inside them. “that’s not the point. you and i both know their intentions aren’t just to ‘hang out’ with you.”

D shrugged, clearly unbothered. “so what if that’s the case? why do you have your underwear in a bunch about this?”

C looked away, jaw clenched tight, because for a moment—just a moment—they weren’t sure if their feelings for you were all negative. and that scared them.

D’s voice softened, but the teasing lilt remained. “i wasn’t lying when i told you that i find their company nice, C. they’re more interesting than half the student population here combined.” there was a pause, heavy and deliberate. “they’re pretty hot too. i wouldn’t mind asking them out either one of these days.”

C stared at the dark-haired rockstar, struggling to find the words. D was still smirking, knowing exactly how this was affecting them—knowing, and enjoying every second of it.

“are you being serious about this?” C asked, finally.

D’s smile widened, and they leaned in just a little closer. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

and with that, D walked away with a melodic hum, leaving C alone with their thoughts. the ceramic cup cracked under their iron grip and dripped hot coffee on the counter and their skin. somehow, they couldn’t bring themself to care about that.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Eighteen

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: The truth about Jake and Bob's feud comes to light

WC: 1.6K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The day it happened, the sky was blue. Not light or foggy blue, the kind that bleeds into white. Not dark blue like midnights, or a storm on the horizon. 

It was crisp, perfect blue. The kind your memory associates with summer beach trips and perfect picnic days and the way the sky felt the day school let out at the end of the year and the kids rushed outside in a flurry of old papers and discarded textbooks. The kind of blue that felt like freedom. 

It was blue that day. Bob felt it in his bones. Jake did, too. There was something almost calming about how blue it was. How accessible. 

And then the call came in. 

The sound of the jets was loud. The wind as it whipped on their faces as they sprinted across the deck of the carrier was harsh and hot. Suddenly, the blue sky felt like an omen. 

Jake hopped into the single seat of his jet, checking the sensors, nodding at the attendant who wheeled away the ladder. 

Bob climbed into the seat behind Dakota. The two of them had been partners for years. He was the godfather to her son, Blake. They had been friends in flight school, neighbors for a while at Lemoore. He taught Blake how to ride a bike. 

They strapped in. The air buzzed around them. Bob found himself holding his breath as they climbed into the sky. Into the blue. That’s the funny thing about the sky. Once you’re up there, it’s transparent. You find yourself always reaching for something just out of your grip. 

The fight was hard, but fast. Guns blazing, enough loops that Bob felt his stomach lurch into his throat more than once. But then the smoke cleared and the radios were silent. 

They were safe. 

Dakota looked around one more time in the open air. There was something practically fizzing on her tongue, she couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there. A feeling. A trepidation. 

And then Jake’s voice, haggard over the radio. “Dakota, five o’clock!” 

She whipped the jet just in time to dodge a bullet that pinged off the wing, leaving a burn across the metal. Bob felt his heart start to race. Suddenly, there was a firestorm of bullets. But everyone had already descended, back to the carrier. It was only Bob and Dakota’s plane, and Jake’s, left. The two of them fought off the best they could. And then the gun clip went dry. 

“Jake, we need fire,” Dakota cried, looking over her shoulder. “They’re coming!” 

“I–, I–,” Jake stuttered over the comms. 

“Hangman!” Dakota’s voice was sharp. “Hangman, where the fuck are you? We need cover!” 

There was a moment of dead silence in the air. Just Bob and Dakota waiting for a response, watching the streams of light from bullets pierce the air around them.  

“Eject, eject!” Jake’s voice was frantic. “Eject!” 

Dakota grabbed the handle beneath her seat. “You heard him, Bob. Eject!” 

Bob grabbed his lever, tugging it hard, feeling his seat throttle into the air. His eyes were squeezed shut. As he came to, he was floating, parachute gliding him down toward the water. 

And as he swam, ditching the parachute, paddling for his life, he watched as another body floated down, twenty yards away. He paddled, fast, but he already knew. He could see it in the way she fell. 

He was too late. He had been too late the moment he pressed eject. Her head was bloody from the impact, her blue eyes closed tightly, mouth slightly ajar. Bob held her in his arms, even as they fished the two of them out of the water. He tugged, hard, on her limbs as they pried her body away. 

Jake stood on the outer ring that had formed around them, sweat dripping down his face. Bob sat with his head in his hands for a moment, before looking up and making eye contact with Jake. 

Despite Bob’s smaller stature, he grabbed Jake’s collar as Bradley dove for the two of them, but Natasha stopped him. “You fucking coward,” Bob seethed. “You could have covered us, but you wanted to escape unharmed. She’s dead because of you. Her son has no mother because of you.” 

“Floyd, I–” 

“You killed her,” Bob repeated, loudly for all to hear. Jake’s face went white. “You fucking killed her.” 

***

You stood with your hands on your hips, squinting. “I think it’s crooked.” 

Jake groaned from where he sat on the floor, dutifully building the dresser that would house the baby’s changing table. “Honey, trust me when I say it’s not.” 

“Our daughter is going to roll off that shit like Humpty Dumpty.” 

“Let’s hope she doesn’t have a huge head.” 

“Your head is enormous.” 

“Hey!” 

“Am I interrupting?” Bradley poked his head in the room. 

“Yes, you are,” Jake replied, “and good timing. Y/N was just reaming me out about my big head.” 

“I mean, it’s huge,” Natasha said, striding in with a basket of baby clothes in her arms along with a bag of tiny hangers. 

“I’m sorry, does everyone think this?” 

The three of you nodded in unison and Jake rolled his eyes. “Where’s Bobby?” you asked. 

Bradley frowned. “He’s, um, busy.” 

“Busy?” You grabbed your phone out of your pocket. “Excuse me.” 

You brushed past the others, dialing Bob’s number as you entered the living room. 

“Ducky?” 

“Where are you?” you asked. “We all agreed to setting up the nursery and then Jake and I wanted to take you guys out for dinner.” 

“I, um, sorry I forgot.” 

“Well come over now,” you replied.

“Y/N, I just don’t feel like seeing Jake tonight, OK?” 

“No, not OK,” you said, placing one hand on your enormous stomach. “I’m having this baby in less than two months, Bobby. And I refuse to bring her into a world where her uncle and her dad hate each other. So get your ass over here before I scream.” 

He paused. You tapped your foot impatiently. Then, “I’ll meet you at the restaurant.” 

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth, hitting the phone’s red button and forcing it back into your pocket. Back in the nursery, Jake looked up, his face scanning yours quickly. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “Let’s go to dinner? Bobby is meeting us there.” 

A shadow passed across Jake’s face. Or was it nausea? You couldn’t tell, because it was gone in an instant. 

At the restaurant, Jake held your hand beneath the table, his thumb stroking the soft part of your palm as you twirled a bite of pasta around your fork. All the while, your gaze fell on Bob, who had his eyes trained on his plate. When he did look up, there was a sadness, an ache, in his features. You couldn’t place it. 

When he left for the bathroom, you excused yourself, waiting outside in the narrow hallway until he crossed through the door and almost slammed into your stomach. Immediately, his hands shot out, guarding you. “Ducky! Jesus, what are you doing lurking in the dark?” 

“What’s wrong?” you demanded. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t give me that,” you said sharply. “I know you and I know something is wrong. What is it?” 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Let it go.” 

“Did Sena dump you?” 

“No.” 

“Then what?”

“Y/N.” His blue eyes flared. “Don’t test me. Not today.” 

“Why? What’s today?” 

“What’s going on?” Jake stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Y/N? Are you OK?” 

“She’s fine,” Bob bit back. 

“Bobby,” you warned. “Stop.” 

“You want to know why today?” he asked. You nodded. He tilted his head toward Jake. “Ask him.” 

Your gaze went to Jake, who turned pale. 

“Floyd, maybe we should do this somewhere else.” 

“I think it’s time she heard,” Bob said. “Tell her, Seresin.” 

You frowned. “Jake?” 

“Three years ago,” Jake said quietly, “there was an accident.” 

“It wasn’t an accident,” Bob spat. “You froze. You chose yourself over us.” 

“I chose YOU” Jake bellowed and you stepped back, alarmed. His green eyes, normally so calm, flamed wide. “I fucking sacrificed myself for you, Floyd. You and Dakota. And what did I get? You hating me for the rest of my life. I couldn’t save her, Bob. Neither of us could. She hit her head on the way down. It wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t yours. So can you stop blaming me for making her eject? It was protocol. It was what we were supposed to do.” His breath was getting ragged. You reached out for his arm but he yanked it away, practically buzzing with anger. “I took it. All of your anger. All of the hate. All of the pain. I took it because I was her wingman and I let her down. I couldn’t protect her up there. But I never fucking forgot about it. Not a single day goes by when I don’t regret that I froze up there.” 

Tears tingled in the corner of your eyes. Bob’s mouth was wide, but no sound came out. Jake’s face was red, stretched in angry tears. You wanted to reach out for him, but it was clear: he didn’t want you.

“You hate me for what happened,” Jake whispered. “And I know you hate that I’m the one your sister is having a baby with. But you know what, Bob? Sometimes I hate myself too.” 

Then he turned on his heel and strode away. 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloydssunnies @withahappyrefrain @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @myfaveficrecs @spinning-away

@gigisimsonmars @shanimallina87 @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can’t seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: don't act like you don't want a meanie

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The stump of the cone drips down your fingertips as the car jolts to a stop. You lurch against your seatbelt and hold up your hand and cup the other beneath, trying to keep the melting mess concentrated. Chris cranks the shifter as he idles in front of your mother’s house. 

“Hey, told ya not to get that all over,” he sneers. 

“Sorry, I...” you utter. “I’ll get out.” 

You balance the cone with one hand you do your best not to smear the mess as you unbuckle the seat belt. He huffs as he turns off the engine and his own belt recoils sharply. You glance over as he gets out and slams the door. He stomps around the car and wrenches open your side. 

“Out, now,” he barks. 

You obey and climb out, stepping up on the curb to examine the front of your shirt. He snaps the door shut and snarls again. 

“Keep pushing your chest out like that, someone might just take it as an invitation,” he grits. 

You wince and look up at him, hunching your shoulders. He makes everything you do a crime. As if you’re intentionally trying to offend him. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you mutter. “I’ll just go--” 

“I’m comin’ with ya. Mom’s waitin’,” he insists. “Sure, she’s real worried about you. Girl your age can get up to all sortsa trouble, can’t she?” 

He points you up the slanted walk and you glare ahead. Your eyes hurt as they long to roll. He walks beside you, crowding you on the thin blocks of pavement. As you get to the steps, he reaches over and taps your ass. 

“Go on, get up,” he orders you. 

You squeak and hurry up the steps. You just want to get away from him. He probably wants the same thing with the way he speaks to you. 

You wrench the door back with your free hand and angle inside. He catches the door behind you, brushing close as he follows you inside. You feel a tickle on your lower back and hurry up. 

“Gail,” Chris calls past you. 

There’s no answer. You don’t worry about it. Most of the time, your mom isn’t home when you get in. It never bothers you as you like having the house to yourself. 

You go into the kitchen and toss what’s left of your cone. You rinse your hands and ignore the man as he trudges around your house. Your mother’s squeaky hinge whines and he comes back out with a harrumph. 

You dry off and go back into the front room. He’s not far behind as he flops onto the couch with a growl. You peek over as he pulls out his phone and taps on it with his thumb. He jams the screen so hard you expect it to crack. 

“See where you get it from, huh,” he scoffs. “Damn woman.” 

You quickly flit away before you can hear any more of his gripes. He just seems the type to look for anything to be mad about. You might be a cynic, but you’re not an asshole about it. 

You change out of your uniform and toss it into the basket by the door. You’re annoyed. If he had driven a bit slower, you could have worn it at least one more time. 

You shimmy out of your pants and pull on some linen shorts and find a loose tee patterned with sunflowers. You stretch out on your bed and put on the next episode of your serial addiction. As you settle in, you hear him moving around in the kitchen. 

From what you can guess, your mom isn’t even there. She tends to do that. Just wander in and out whenever it suits you. If you were less of an introvert, you might have actually gotten in trouble as a teen with so little parental supervision. Come to think of it, she seems to have lived your teenage rebellion for you. 

A pounding on the door shakes you from your Netflix-induced trance. You sit up and sigh as you go to the door. It’s bad enough he’s getting in the way of your late night snacking but not he’s interrupting your binge. 

You crack the door open an inch and look out, “she’s probably down at Jim’s,” you say. 

“I didn’t ask that,” he brings his hand up to grim the door frame. “Did I?” 

“No,” you frown. 

“'No, sir,'” he wags his index at you. “You should try a smile. Be a lot prettier if ya did.” 

You blink. The only response you have will only piss him off. You clamp your lips tight and shrug instead. 

“There’s shit all in the cupboards.” 

You squint and shake your head, “okay?” 

“I mean, you can figure it out, can’t you? Man’s gotta eat.” 

You tilt your head in confusion, “what?” 

“Don’t tell me ya can’t cook neither. What kinda man’s gonna want a woman can’t do nothing?” He snorts. 

“I-- I don’t want to,” you blurt out. “Cook for yourself.” 

You push the door but he slaps his hand against it and forces it inward, “what did you just say, girl?” 

“I... you’re here for my mom. Go down to Jim’s and tell her to cook--” 

“You’re right. I’m here ‘cause your mommy’s a slut. Any other man stick around, huh? Pay for her bills? Her food? Don’t sound like men to me, and you,” he grabs your chin and you whimper, “don’t speak like much of a lady.” 

“Let go of me,” you smack his wrist, “ow.” 

“See, I knew your mama isn’t shit. The way she acts, shoulda figured you’d be the same.” He yanks you into the hall, “don’t worry, I’ll teach ya manners, girl.” 

“Ah, you’re hurting me--” 

“What do you think your husband’s gonna do when you get mouthy, huh? I’m saving you a lot of hard lessons,” he shoves you past him and you hit the wall with your shoulder. He snaps his knuckles against your ass. “I saw a box of macaroni, think you can boil some water or is that too much for that empty head of yours?” 

“What is your problem?” You turn and lean against the door. “I didn’t do anything and... and...” your words fizzle out as you see the way his icy eyes sear. You gulp. “Why are you so mean?” 

“Mean?” He laughs, “keep talking and I’ll put you over my knee. Now take your ass to the kitchen and make some dinner. I know you ain’t some child eating ice cream for supper, hm? Can’t be walking around like that.” 

He reaches for you and tugs the hem of your tee, letting it go so the fabric springs back up and you feel air flow along the underside of your tits. You quickly cross your arms and try to dissolve into the wall. You stare at him, annoyed but frightened. It occurs to you that he’s a lot stronger than you. 

“Well, you gonna walk around dressed like a woman, may as well be one,” he points down the hall. “You won’t like me when I’m real hungry.” 

You peel yourself off the wall and cower as you pass him. You feel his gaze on you, as oppressive as his presence. You bite down on your lip, as much to keep your thoughts inside as to keep from screaming. You should’ve known that one day your mother would bring home the wrong sort. Well, she always does but they can’t be bothered to stick around. 

You enter the kitchen and go to the cupboard. You search around for the sole box of mac and cheese. That’s your insurance policy. Your mother rarely grocery shops. She only ever goes to the bar or the liquor store. She drinks, she doesn’t eat. 

You grab a pot and fill it with water. As you light the burner, you glance over your shoulder. Chris stands in the doorway, watching, like a warden in a jail. You add salt to the water. You step back and wait for it to boil. The silence scrapes your ears. 

You sway listlessly and another growl rolls up his throat. He clicks his tongue. “Must get good tips down at the ice cream joint, huh? Wearing your cutoffs like you're at the beach.” 

You turn and frown, “...what?” 

“Nah, nah,” he shifts to stand inside the door, leaning his back on the wall, “not ‘what’. You say, ‘sorry, sir, my sweet little head’s empty and I don’t understand. Please explain to me what you mean.’ 

Your lips part and you stare at him. He snickers. 

“The way you look at me, I know you don’t got much going on in there, do ya, girl? So let’s think. You go down to the parlour in those jean shirts, wagging your ass as the boys, and they toss you a couple dollars extra. Hell, I bet those pudgy-bellied dads with all their regret and whiny brats like ya too.” He sniffs and his eyes pinpoint, “keep that up, you’ll find out how much you could make on a pole, flirting with all those greasy dicks down at Bunnies.” 

You recoil at the mention of the strip club. The very thought makes your skin crawl. And your shorts aren’t that short. Your boss said they’re just fine and it’s so hot out in the summer. 

“Shouldn’t flaunt it if you’re not selling it,” he says. 

You stare at the floor and drop your arms, tugging the hem of your shorts to make sure they aren’t bunched. “Sir, I’m not... flaunting it.” 

“Coulda fooled me.” He exhales loudly. “You wanna end up like your ma?” 

No, you don’t want to end up with a man like him. You keep that thought to yourself. You shake your head and take the box of the macaroni. You tear off the top as the water starts to boil. 

“So maybe you should take some advice from someone older and wiser. Do you know what your mama’s problem is?” He asks. 

You shake your head again. You dump the noodles into the water. You go to the drawer and open it to grab a wooden spatula. As you do, he shuts it on your fingers. You yelp as he keeps your hand trapped. You look up at him as he stands close. 

“She can’t hang onto a man. She’s too easy. No guy’s gonna take care of a fucking mess like her. And what good is she without a man lookin’ after her? Living in this hellhole with some deadbeat daughter--” 

“That’s...” you whimper and squirm as you try to free your fingers. “Ow, please--” 

“It is true,” he insists against your unspoken protest. “Whatcha think you’ll be doin’ in another few years? You’re gonna age out and those tips are gonna dry up like sand.” He taunts as he leans in, “and you’re only happiness will be at the bottom of a glass--” 

“Stop. Please,” you beg as the drawer crushes your knuckles. You can’t bear it anymore. You put your hand on his hard stomach and push. “Ow! It hurts--” 

He lets up on the drawer but only to grab your arm. He twists your wrist around and you bend with the angle of your arm. He has you facing the tile as he hyperextends your elbow. You whimper and wiggle your throbbing fingers. 

“See, a woman don’t just need a man to take care of her,” he puts his hand on your ass and brushes up your shorts. “He needs to discipline her.” He pulls his hand away and the drawer rolls open. “And I know your mama didn't do none of that.” 

He rests the spatula against your ass and you twitch, “sir, please, I wasn’t--” 

“Either you shut up and take it like a good girl or each noise means the next one’s harder,” he swings his arm back then forward. The wood strikes your ass in a radiating crack. Your legs tremble and you yowl. “Now what did I say?" 

He spanks you again with the spatula, this time on the other cheek. You grunt behind your teeth and reach back with your other arm. He raps your knuckles with the wood and you recoil. You bend your arm to your chest and he swats you again. Your ass burns from his cruel force. 

He does it again, and again, and again. You try not to make a sound but the whimpers fall out of you. Your arm strains from the angle and his unyielding grip, your ass pulsing in agony. The spatula thwaps down over and over until your eyes are streaming and all you can muster are hollow gasps. 

He lets you go and you crumple to the floor, holding yourself on your hands and knees. He whips the spatula down to it hits the tile and bounces. You wipe your face and look up at him. The air smells like fire. He sighs as his eyes drift to the stove, the water boiling over. 

“Fuck damnit, girl,” he tuts, “figure it the fuck out.” 

He shakes his head and marches out of the kitchen. You stare after him, breathless and battered. You can’t believe he just did that.  

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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John Price is a lot of things. A soldier. A leader. The captain of Task Force 141. And, of course, (Y/N) Price's husband. They are so much in love, in fact, that after a year of dating, John asked her to marry him. But even lovers have secrets... Because John's lovely wife wasn't just a sweet wife with a boring office job. No. She was a killer. A hitman. One of the best...

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It's my first cod fic... I hope it's good. Thank you for reading and I wish you all a great day! x3

Words: 2259

Warning: fluff, a bit angsty

You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow as you entered the quiet sanctuary of your home. You placed your weapons carefully in your hidden compartment beneath the floorboards of the closet, where John would never think to look. It was almost laughable, really. Your husband, John Price, a man who had dedicated his life to fighting criminals, had no idea that his wife was one of those killers.

You closed the closet door and took a deep breath. This was your life, your choice, long before you even met John. He didn't need to know about your job. All he needed to know was that you were here, waiting for him, just like you always were. You took another deep breath and needed to switch gears, to become the version of yourself that he knew and loved.

After you took a shower and put on some comfy clothes, you decided to cook your husband’s favorite food. You moved around the kitchen, preparing it as the aroma of simmering stew filled the air.

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. A text from Kate Laswell. A good friend of yours.

You smiled before swiping the screen to answer the call.

“(Y/N).” Kate greeted you. She sounded professional, as always, but with a bit of warmth.

“Kate.” You replied. “How did it go?”

“Smoothly. The target is dead, and our friend is safe for now. You did a good job out there.”

“Thanks.” You said, leaning against the counter, watching the stew. “What’s next?”

“Next?” You heard her chuckle. “Next, I’m coming over.”

You raised your eyebrow, stirring the pot. “You're sure about this, Kate?”

“What, afraid to see me in broad daylight?” You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, John invited me. He’s been telling me for ages about how good your cooking is. How could I refuse?”

You sighed. “I’m a great cook… But, Kate, you know how important it is that John doesn’t find out about… you know.”

“I know.” Kate reassured you. “I won’t say a word. He has no idea we know each other, and it’ll stay that way.” Silence filled the conversation. “But he’s bound to find out. You have to talk to him one day.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I know and I will do it… One day. It’s just… I don’t want him getting involved in my shit. If he knew what I really do…”

“I understand…” Kate said softly. “And I promise, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You sighed and rolled your eyes as the line went dead before you could say more. You placed the phone back on the counter.

“You could have said bye, Kate.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your husband; it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of him being in danger. You’d lied to him for years, all to protect him. And so far, it had worked.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

The front door opened. John was home. You turned, wiping your hands on a towel as he entered the kitchen, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey, love.” He greeted, his voice gruff but full of affection.

“John.” You smiled, walking over to him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. The scent of sweat, gunpowder, cigars and earth clung to him, a reminder of the world he lived in, the world you knew perfectly well…

“Missed you.” He murmured against your neck.

“I missed you too.” You replied, your voice soft. You kind of did. Can you miss someone that you see so often? Even when your husband went on missions, you were there, watching his back and saving his life more times than you could count.

You always went there to safe him. For Kate and for yourself.

You pulled back, giving him a soft kiss on his dry lips. He was safe. That was all that mattered.

“You’re just in time for dinner.”

John watched you with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Someone has to.” You teased, setting the plates on the table. “Sit down. I’ll get everything.”

He obeyed. You placed a steaming plate in front of him and joined him at the table. You two ate in comfortable silence.

John leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a satisfied grin. "You’ve outdone yourself, love."

“I’m glad you liked it.” You replied, gathering the dishes. He grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“Leave it.” He said. “I’ll do it later.”

You smiled, but shook your head. “Let me help then.” John offered, but you shook your head again.

“No, you go take a shower. I’ve got this.”

He didn’t need much convincing. “Alright, but only because you insist.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, before you watched him head towards the bathroom.

The next day arrived too quickly…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You woke up early and ready to prepare breakfast. John was still asleep, his arm draped over your side of the bed, the peaceful expression on his face making your heart ache with affection.

You moved quietly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He needed his rest, especially after the mission he’d just returned from. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped it slowly, savoring the moment.

As you finished up, John stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, love.” He mumbled, reaching for you. You stepped into his embrace, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Morning.” You replied, your voice soft. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Smells amazing.” he said, pulling back to look at you.

You two sat on the table, eating your delicious food as John intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Soo…” John started, as you finished your food.

“Soo?” You glanced at him, squeezing his hand.

“A friend of mine wanted to visit us. You, know the friend I’ve mentioned a couple of times? Kate?” You nod your head, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety in your stomach. “Yeah, she will come… Is it okay? Or should I call her back and-“

You shook your head. “No, no, honey. It’s okay. She can come.” Despite her promise, there was still a small part of your that worried, that he will find out about your job.

John smiled at your, happy that you were fine with it and finally could meet his friend.

And due to your nervosity, you start to cook early on for dinner. For the time Kate will come into your home. You prayed and hoped that everything will work out…

John noticed your nervosity, of course. He always did. “You’re fussing too much.” He teased as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you.

“I’m not fussing.” You rolled your eyes, but could hear the tension in your own voice. “I just want everything to be perfect…”

“It will be.” John assured you, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind. “Kate’s going to love you. She’s always been curious about the woman who managed to snag me.”

You laughed, though the sound was a bit strained. John kissed the side of your neck, his beard scratching gently against your skin. “Don’t worry, love.”

The doorbell rang and you felt your heart leap into your throat. This was it…

John released you, heading for the door. “That’ll be Kate.” He said.

You quickly wiped your hands on a towel, trying to steady your breathing as you followed him. When the door swung open, there stood Kate Laswell, dressed casually but with her usual air of quiet authority.

“Kate, good to see you.” John greeted warmly.

“Good to see you too, John.” Kate replied with a smile, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You stepped forward, a perfectly practiced look of curiosity and friendliness on her face. It was time to act. Something that you always had to do during your missions. Acting or more likely… lying…

“You must be Kate. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And you must be (Y/N).” Kate responded. “John wasn’t exaggerating when he said you’re beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes at the false pleasantries, but at least your friend had some fun. This was the game you two had to play after all. “Thank you. Come in, please.”

As Kate stepped inside, John closed the door behind her, looking pleased. He had no idea that the two women had known each other for a long time already.

They moved to the dining room, where you had already set the table. The conversation flowed easily, John and Kate reminiscing about old missions, with you chiming in here and there, careful to keep up the facade of being just a supportive wife with no real connection to their deadly world.

As they ate, John kept looking between the two women. “It’s funny.” He remarked. “I’ve always thought you two would get along great. Glad to see I was right.”

You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “Well, Kate’s easy to get along with.” You said, but kept your eyes rather on John than on her.

Kate returned the smile, her expression giving nothing away. “And I can see why John speaks so highly of you, (Y/N). You’ve got a real knack for this - hosting, cooking… you’re a natural.”

“… Thank you.” You replied, you were counting down the minutes until this tense dinner was over.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and laughter, with John completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two women. As far as he knew, it was just a pleasant evening with his wife and a close friend.

When it was finally time for Kate to leave, John walked her to the door, thanking her again for coming. You followed, staying a step behind, happy that the day has finally ended.

“Thanks for having me.” Kate said warmly, giving you a meaningful look as she shook your hand. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“I would love to.” You replied, your voice steady despite of all the emotions you were feeling right now. “It was lovely meeting you.”

With that, Kate left, and you closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, eyes closed as you let out a slow breath.

John came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “See? Told you it’d be fine.”

You leaned into his embrace. “You were right.” You admitted, turning in his arms to face him. “It was nice and went better than I thought.”

John smiled down at you. “You did great, love. I knew Kate would like you. But then again, what's not to like?”

You chuckled. “You give me too much credit. But I’m glad she came over. It was… good to finally meet her.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “You know, I think she’ll become a good friend of yours. She’s got a lot of interesting stories, and I’m sure you two have more in common than you think.”

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile on your lips. “Yeah… maybe.”

John’s smile softened as he looked at you. “Are you alright? You seem… distracted.”

You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat. He was always so perceptive. But you couldn’t tell him the truth… Not now, not ever. So, you did what you had done countless times before. You lied… Again.

“Just tired.” You said, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “It’s been a long day.”

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back. “I understand. It’s been a lot. Why don’t we call it a night? You need your rest.”

You nodded, feeling now tired from this day. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You locked up the house and headed upstairs. As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help but glance at John, wondering what would happen if he ever found out the truth. How would he react? Would he be angry, hurt, betrayed?

Once you two were in bed, John pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively over you. He kissed your temple, whispering a soft “Goodnight, love.” before closing his eyes.

You lay there in the darkness, your eyes wide open as you stared at the ceiling. The evening had gone as well as it could have, but the anxiety was still there. Kate’s visit had been a stark reminder of your real life. Your real job.

You turned slightly to watch John sleep; his face peaceful in the light. He had no idea how many times you’d been there, watching over him from the shadows during his missions, making sure he and his team got out alive. You were always just out of sight, never letting anyone know where you were. It was your way of protecting him.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up.

But for now, John was safe. He was home, with you, and that was all that mattered.

You reached out, brushing a hand over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble under your fingers. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, just leaned into her touch.

“I love you.” You whispered.

It was both a vow and a plea. A promise to keep him safe, and a silent wish that he’d never have to find out the lengths you’d gone to do so.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the arms of your husband.

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[365granitegirlx]

♡⟡˙⋆It takes us a little higher⋆˙⟡♡

Summary: You've never been fond of your roommate Vessel, but a mortifying shared experience brings you closer than you ever thought possible.

a/n: MDNI - smut under the cut. Alternate, affectionate title is "Close the Fucking Door. Holy Shit."

roommate!vessel x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, some angst, porn with plot, accidental voyeurism, laundry day tension, vessel's favorite color seems to be emerald, reader and vessel are mean to each other, very brief slut shaming (the word "whore" is used twice derogatorily), “you’re the closest and hottest thing right now” type shit, rough sex but it’s comfort sex

No, roommates don’t have to be friends. There is no bylaw saying if you share a dwelling and the bills therein you have to be the best of friends with your housemate…but if there was, you and Vessel would be faced with a hefty fine. Where you saw the opportunity to be lighthearted, he would claim you never took anything seriously; yet when he attempted to be playful with you, you accused him of mocking you. Is this brownstone in town worth the strife? Actually, yes. Everyone has their own comfortable spaces, it’s close to everyone’s workplace, the rent is reasonable. And yet. This afternoon you’re in the little laundry room sorting things to go into the washer when you hear the heaviest sigh. “Just going to start laundry, then? No worries if anyone else needs it.” Oh, he’s grumpy today.

Vessel has his barely filled laundry basket in his long arms and impatiently drums his fingers on it. 

“Doesn’t seem like you were going to ask me. Now does it?” You nod at his laundry basket as he stammers a bit. “Just put it in with mine.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Vessel, seriously,” you snap, “you have barely anything in there. We’d be wasting water if I didn’t…”

“This is how I always do my laundry! Saying I’m the reason the water bill i–”

“JUST… put your laundry in the washer. Jesus.”

Vessel huffs and drops his laundry in like you said (or as you demanded as he would have put it). You two can hardly look at each other. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as you thank him. He shows his gratitude by switching the laundry and then sorting it once it’s dry. He does this in the living room with an inconsequential movie on. You join him for what you call “a folding paaarrttyyyyy.” This actually gets a little laugh from him. Humorless laugh, but it’s a sign of life. 

It had been a month or so of just existing in the same space since an “incident” had occurred. Neither of you brought it up but it lingered heavily between you.

𓍯𓂃

The morning of the incident you two had a civil, even thoughtful, conversation. You told Ves you’d be out that evening, maybe even all night. This delighted him. He could do some audio mixing without fear of interruption. Spread out in the living room. Oh the possibilities! He even asked who the guy was. Anything to encourage you to leave him alone for the night. Get you talking and excited about whoever the hell this poor man is so that maybe you’d get yourself all giddy and blushy and convince yourself to stay out all night. You deserve it…no wait…no. Vessel deserved it. He had to keep reminding himself he didn’t actually care. 

Except he did. The evening was actually boring. You’d only been gone an hour, and he was already thinking about going to bed. He idly wondered what you and the guy were doing. That emerald green dress you had on made it seem like you were dead set on seducing on him. The way it hugged your hips and didn’t even graze your knees. How your sheer black stockings made your legs glimmer just a bit. Vessel came to the conclusion that you actually could seduce this man without even trying…you’d just have to show up. Fuck. These weird, clouded, thoughts that flirted with being both positive and lustful rubbed Vessel the wrong way. That’s his roommate he’s thinking about. Maybe he’s just lonely.

Yes, that’s it. He’s desperate. And that feeling churns and grows to the point where he can’t ignore it anymore. He’s home alone, after all. Why not make a little “to do” about it? He dimmed his lights and slipped out of his clothes, splaying out on his bed with a little bottle of lube close by. This was something he missed. Indulging in a little fantasy and playing with himself, all while not having to wonder if someone would hear him or walk in or just make some goddamn annoying noise that would distract him. All he could hear was his ragged, raspy breaths and soft moans…and the slick pornographic sounds of his fist pumping his cock. God it was so nice to just edge a little…he really did deserve this. He tries to think of something to calm him down and dull the feeling. Your most recent argument about where the reusable grocery bags were was very helpful in this instance…except for when he remembered your little dress. How soft you looked piled in the satin. What kind of panties did you have on under that? No panty line was visible so maybe…no don’t go there. But he has to. He has to imagine what it would be like to let his fingers trail up your inner thigh to then lift your dress and see those fucking tights hugging your plush ass and maybe even how your soft thighs would expand as you sit back on your heels, your pretty eyes gazing up at him…

“Oh…fuck!”

But it wasn’t Vessel exclaiming. Why were you home? “CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR. HOLY SHIT.”

You had scurried into your room. Your cheeks hurt from your nervous grin and the blush dusting your cheeks; you feel like a little girl running from her crush. But this wasn’t innocent. You had just watched your roommate cum. The little whimpers and groans piqued your attention the second you entered the hall. You actually thought he had been crying but…good god. If there had been tears, they’d have been ones of ecstasy. The look on his face…you’ll never forget that. The way his jaw fell and his eyebrows knitted together…how his bobbing throat signaled yet another desperate moan. You had left your date way early for…reasons you’d rather not think about at the moment. You had a new problem. The image of arrogant, quiet Vessel truly enjoying himself…looking absolutely delicious…vulnerable…that wasn't leaving your mind anytime soon. And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his abs flexed as he came…what would they feel like under your hand if you were riding him? Or against your own soft tummy while you’re on your back? Or even against your back as he spooned and fucked you while whispering filth in your ear. You stared up at the ceiling by the low light of your bedside lamp after taking care of yourself. The thrill from your momentary distraction from your bad date turns into guilt and settles in your tummy where your arousal once was.

Your mind won’t shut up. Berating you for being such a perv. And that’s when you hear Ves. Pacing. He does that sometimes. Of all the sounds you hear from sharing a wall with him, that’s the sound you’ve come to anticipate the most. How his mind reels at night. You start to ruminate, imagining that he regrets this. But it seems you finally have something in common tonight. You’re embarrassed. You’re awake. And you’re alone. Instead of nodding off, you take a chance. You reach up and knock softly on your shared wall. Just a little, “I’m right  there with you.” And as you drift off to sleep you hear two soft, timid knocks above your head.

𓍯𓂃

With the laundry folded in complete and utter silence, you sigh heavily and take your folded laundry into your room. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you grin at the text…completely ignoring the visitor in your doorway. You don’t even look up but you speak. “I’m going out tonight.”

“Oh? Uhm. Cool.” Vessel tries to act as if he isn’t the one encroaching on your space. Too aloof to care. He certainly wasn’t feeling touch and attention starved. Not at all. That had nothing to do with why he was standing in your doorway, watching you poke at your phone. “Another date?”

“Yep. Been too long since the last one.”

Ves looks at you thoughtfully and weighs his options. Does he risk perhaps having to talk about the “close the fucking door. Holy shit” incident? Or does he continue to push you away? Continue to make you the villain in his inner monologue? He takes a deep breath, holds it, and bites the bullet. “Why did you come home so early that night?”

A long sigh escapes you. “I…got to the restaurant and, well, basically he told me I looked easy and that he liked that. So the whole evening was just…” you pause and look away. 

“He didn’t try to…like…”

“No.” You don’t mean to snap, but you did. Vessel nods, nonplussed by your tone. “No, I didn't give him a chance. Turns out I’m a whore for dressing like that and for not putting out. Such is life, yeah?” 

“Waste of an outfit, if you ask me.” You stare at Vessel for a bit. He seems angry. Tense. His legs jitter a bit and he wipes his face with a long exhale. “You should be taken out in that dress whenever you want…wherever you want.” 

You go to your closet and pull out a few dresses like your emerald and hold them up to yourself in the mirror. “Well, he’s getting a second chance tonight.”

He scoffs and crosses his arms. His height allows him to take up most of your doorframe; he secretly hopes that might keep you from leaving. From seeing that degenerate. If you just wanted to get fucked he wishes you’d just ask him. But he has to remind himself that some people need a bit more than that. He wouldn’t know the first thing about what you needed. He pleaded with himself nightly to not worry about it. It won’t work. It shouldn’t work. But damnit…you’re right there. The single hottest and closest thing. Vessel doesn't realize he’s just been staring, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Care to share or are you just being weird?” You say without looking away from the mirror.

“Why are you putting yourself through this? Hm? Do you like being treated like that?”

He purses his lips when your eyes pierce through him, getting ready to strike. “Well, not that present company can understand this but people can change and redeem themselves. Besides, what do you care?”

You’ve got him. Vessel looks down, sniffs, and shrugs. “Maybe you are a whore.” He immediately winces. That was mean…and stupid. He pushes himself off the doorframe and sulks back to his room. But you’re on his heels.

“Tell me why you care, Vessel,” you demand to his back. He won’t turn and face you. “Fucking look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, he turns, shoulders slumped…and hard as a rock. His arousal can easily be attributed to the blood rush and emotions from being angry but truth be told it’s from imaging you in those dresses you were considering. And imagining you in that green dress, letting him take you out and then have his way with you.Your eyes are boring into him with a look he’s never seen before. “Want some help?” 

He nods softly. 

“Can I get verbal consent? Jesus Christ,” you huff. 

“Yeah…yes, I’d like help.” He watches as you slip off your hoodie and kneel like you’ve done this before with him. What a sight. 

“Take your shirt off, Ves. Please.” It all feels like a dream. Vessel is standing before you, rock hard and willing. Your hands rub up his thighs… to his hips…his abs…and he actually caresses your arms when they stretch up to gently play with his nipples. After moving your hands down to remove his pants, you place soft kisses on stomach and around his happy trail. Fuck. This is living. Your arms wrap around to his back as you hold him place, making him whine softly with each kiss. It’s impossible to keep from kissing and caressing your face right below his belly button. It’s unfair how good he feels against your lips and how lovely he smells from his body wash and just…him. As toned as he is, you find a soft spot and gently bite it. You look up expecting him to have his eyes closed but he’s actually staring down at you, biting his lip. It’s too much to bear. It feels like second nature to take his cock in your mouth. You’re lost in the feeling of taking him deeper until you gag softly. When you do, he caresses your hair, asking if you’re ok. His touch is so gentle, but you’re confused when he slowly pries you off his cock and stands you up. You’re about to take off your bralette when he shakes his head and tsks. 

“I need something to hold onto, don’t I?”

You’re unable to answer as he presses a hot, messy kiss against your mouth. He’s quite literally taking your breath away as he wraps his long arms around your body and his tongue prods at your lips. He needs to taste you. He meant to not just enjoy you…but to know you. To know how you like…no…how you need to be kissed. And where you like to be kissed. It’s not enough to kiss you where “everyone wants to be kissed” like your neck and collarbone…he needs to map it out. No one will ever know this body like he does. It’s like his brain has shut down. He doesn’t remember pushing you to the bed and  lowering himself to the floor on his knees as he took off your sweats and panties. But he’s fully lucid when he, without preamble, delicately presses his tongue against your heat for the first time. The sound that comes out of you…my god. He wonders to himself if you’d ever record yourself cumming for him or even let him make a little video sometime. Better yet…he’d just have you every night. 

But that takes time and that’s what he’s doing right now. His tongue is tracing slow circles around your clit as he commits this moment to memory. The feeling of your fingers playing with his hair excites him, makes him feel giddy. He moans softly against your little sweet as he brings it into his mouth. It becomes very clear after a while that he’s chasing your orgasms along with you. 

When he pulls away, he’s  all starry eyed and a little giggly. “Oh…you are divine. Can I do more?”

All you can let out is a pathetic whimper as you catch your breath. He looms over you, wiping you off his mouth. “Can I get your verbal consent, angel?” 

“Please. Yes…please…” you get out as your core aches to feel anything from him again. 

“Look at you. You’ve got a little pulse down there, good girl.” He lets his fingers trace your throbbing clit, but there’s no relief. You whine against his touch. “Made you feel good, huh? Tell me something…how badly do you want to get fucked?”

You whimper softly and roll over onto your tummy for him. No words from you are required when Vessel whispers soft encouragements and makes sure you’re comfy before teasing your cunt one last time with his fingers. “Just put it in, Ves, please.” 

Vessel gently pops your bralette strap against your back and chuckles at your impatience. “No warm up? I didn’t think you’d be this much fun.” Your front lifts from the bed as you moan into the bed, but Vessel smooths his hand down your back.“I know….I know. Just breathe, baby. Open your legs for me a bit more.” He runs his hands along your thighs and presses them into his bed. Like he said he would, he grasps the band of your bralette with one hand as he starts to fuck you. The stretch and feeling of him stroking you from the inside makes you cry out. You realize momentarily who’s fucking you…who’s making you cum. The forbidden idea that the energy between you two could spark both anger and the most palpable lust you’ve ever felt makes you press back against him harder. “Oh there she is,” Vessel grunts out as he lands a sharp spank on your ass. And another.

“Ffffuck. Ag…again. Please.”

“You like that?” Spank. “Such a sweetheart for me.” Spank. “You feel so fucking good…” 

Your head feels fuzzy as his hands melt into your soft skin and his moans become higher pitched. More desperate. He’s saying your name. He’s cumming for you. 

𓍯𓂃

You’re getting in late from a girls night out. It’s unsurprising that the house is dark, but you can hear whatever video game Vessel is playing…and sounding like he’s about to rage quit. His back is to you as he’s hunched over on the couch.

“Ves….” A beat. “VES! Turn that down…or off, preferably,” you huff.

“Tsk yes, mum,” he says smartly, turning the game off and tossing the controller. He wants to be grumpy…but there you were, settling in his lap…in that fucking…emerald…dress. He puts his forehead to your chest and presses sweet little kisses onto it. “Welcome home, angel.”  No, roommates don’t have to be friends.