#look you can argue that this was not her motivation
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anemcia · 3 days ago
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Silence fell between them for several reasons: From digesting the Saiyan's words cautiously to being ever mindful not to shoot a ki blast through their intruder's skull... At least not before he finishes this meal.
Had Mr. Satan spun a false tale about his battle with Cell? Honey could easily see that. After all, the mainstream media often distorts or omits key details to maintain a certain narrative, especially if it's meant to uphold the image of Earth's so-called greatest hero. Now that Goku mentioned it, she faintly remembered seeing someone in a familiar orange gi confront Cell—yet the raw footage was practically useless, marred by heavy grain, blurs, and distortion.
Any footage beyond what aired has vanished into the annals of time, fueling conspiracy theories. Many online skeptics argue the Cell Games were nothing but a charade—a ratings stunt filled with actors and special effects. Mr. Satan himself spouted such claims during the battle. Yet, reality is often stranger than fiction, especially with the living proof lurking on her property. If Cell was real, then Goku must have been entangled in that chaos from the beginning. His reaction adds up, and it makes her feel a lot worse than she already did. What kind of horrors did he witness? She almost doesn't want to know.
Honeydew nervously sipped her water, stealing a glance at her teacher where he had pointed. The Bio-android, wearing an unsettling expression, remained motionless, his silent eating adding to the tension. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. Was he holding himself back to prevent a deadly confrontation, merely tuning out of the conversation to focus on his meal, or a mix of both? For what it was worth, she had to count her blessings, meager as they were.
Upon hearing his last question, she suddenly choked on her drink, descending into a brief coughing fit as she struggled to regain composure. The question felt incredibly sudden, causing her features to redden with embarrassment as she was thrust into the limelight. This caught Cell's attention, piquing his curiosity about the nickname as well. It had been given to him within the last two months, and he hadn't bothered to ask why or correct her. He had simply adjusted to it, assuming it was just a folksy way of referring to things. Her reaction suggested there was more to it, furrowing his brow.
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"...Err... Well, yes, it's a nickname," she hesitates, unsure of where to look with both of them burning their gaze right through her. "I-I mean, when you spend time with someone, these things happen eventually, right? 'Slick' is used to describe someone cunning, silver-tongued—It's just what fits that line of thought. I didn't plan it out or anything, it came to me."
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A half-truth, he thought. Cell couldn't explain it, but there was an underlying glint in her eye. She was omitting information from him specifically, not just because the monkey-man was seated across the table. She was a terrible liar, but in this instance, that could be easily taken as gospel to the untrained observer. He wrestled with understanding what went on in that country-bumpkin brain, becoming more openly fixated on his student. Notably, he's stopped eating.
The air just became all the more dense, and this motivates Honeydew to switch gears and get off the subject immediately.
"G-Goku, listen, I can't even begin to fathom how deep the rabbit hole goes. Facts from fiction, truths and lies. I understand you have yer discrepancies with him, I can't blame you. I very much relate with the sentiment."
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"However... I strongly oppose your intentions. There is also much you don’t know about me, about him, and what we’ve done here. I won’t give that up, even if you told me everything. It’s a complicated situation, most of which isn’t your business to know. I can only answer what I can, and surely you understand. But you have my word that nothing will happen to Earth."
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He's taken a seat, tail wrapped firmly around his own waist as memories play in his mind, he's seated only a few feet away from the same enemy that not only cost him his life, caused his boy to have to fight a battle that he never wanted him to, that persisted even after he sacrificed himself in an attempt to save not just his friends and family but the earth itself. Then it was all wrapped up into a story for the public by Mr.Satan. So many left in the dark, to true horrors that had happened, nearly happened and so much more. He supposes he should have seen something like this happening, if Frieza had the capacity to be brought back why not Cell? How many of his past enemies would come crawling out of hell just because it could happen?
His gaze is cold, lacking it's usual warmth. Many times people have commented on his naivety, his good nature, his willingness for mercy and yet almost every time he's ever shown it, somehow, someway, it gets stepped on and dragged into the dirt. So many times his family, his friends, earth and her people have suffered because of it. It was easy to be evil, harder to be good. The memories burn in the edges of his mind. Helpless, trapped beneath the bio android's foot and stuck watching his son being crushed within arms that only seek to maim. A father forced to watch as his son had to pick up where he left off, had to take on a burden he never wanted him to carry.
The food smells amazing, but he doesn't have the stomach for it. Not in this moment. The dark thoughts keep persisting and he's ready to simply let rage guide him. But for now the only thing holding him back is that the other is currently behaving, how long until that stops? He's not sure. He doesn't want to find out, he's not tempted to incite karma especially with someone like cell. Even still...amnesia huh?
"Unless you were there that day, you don't know the full story besides what Mr.Satan told the world." It's quiet, bitterness in it which speaks volumes on his statement of it.
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"You say you've got your own agenda to settle, that I can understand but you don't know my story either. And you can't guarantee me it'll stay that way." Finger tapping on the table before he gestures to the Bio-Android, tilting his head slightly, there's still the low growl in the depths of his voice, unintentional but simply showing how much rage was being repressed. "Why do you call him Slick? A nickname?" The edges of his nails digging into wood, it takes much more restraint that he is currently straining for to keep even remotely calm.
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tea-cat-arts · 3 months ago
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"Madam Yu would be a Karen/ treat minimum wage employees like shit-" literally the only servant she's shown abusing is Wei Wuxian (and that's because he's the victim of a proxy war between her and Jiang Fengmian around the idea of him being adopted into the family, not because of his class). Madam Yu's two handmaid's love and respect her, and Madam Yu actually defends them when Wang Lingjiao tries being a Karen to them. She also tells Wang Lingjiao to fuck off when she demands the Jiang servants bring her tea.
Also, Karens are unpleasant women, but not all unpleasant women are Karens. That term is about entitlement and being unreasonable (and often times, racist). Madam Yu is mean and unpleasant to talk to, but she keeps most of her interactions brief and probably doesn't have the time or mental energy to be a Karen or hold a grudge that long. If you want an actual example of a Karen in mdzs, Wang Lingjiao is right there
#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#grand master of demonic cultivation#for those confused on who I'm arguing against- this is about comments left on the “who'd be more insufferable online” tournament#I'll stop writing Madam Yu defense posts when y'all start actually looking at how she's described in the books#you guys just parrot and amplify the same “woman mean” narrative about her and its frustrating#I'm convinced most of you dont even read what she says or know she has motivations#and because i get at least one person going “so you're excusing child abuse” every time I talk about her-#No. I am not defending or excusing any of the bs she's actually done in canon#child abuse bad. theres just a lot of misinformation out there on what that abuse actually entailed#1 or 2 lashes that do not break the skin + shit talking and kneeling is a different punishment from whipping someone till they can't move#the former was her usual interaction with wwx. the later was an act to get the wens to fuck off#also can you guys please acknowledge the fact she was incredibly angry and on edge in canon because a war was about to start#and her kids and clan (but especially her kids) were being put in active danger#and that her ranting sessions happened around her family and she was venting#and that she's shown being cordial to unrelated people#she's a well respected figure. that wouldn't happen if she was a karen#and if we're looking at a modern au where there isnt a war happening she probably wouldnt be as on edge
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luveline · 7 months ago
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would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹
You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 
“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 
“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 
“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 
You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 
“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 
You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 
“No. They gave me tramadol.” 
Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 
Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 
The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 
“You okay?” 
“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 
“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 
“I’m your Unit Chief.” 
“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”
He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 
You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 
You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 
“I’ve been busy.” 
“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 
“I wish I did something that sensible.” 
You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 
“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 
His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 
“Not enough.” 
“No, I guess not.” 
You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 
“It wasn’t purposeful.” 
“No? That’s good.” 
“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 
“Morgan’s a big boy.” 
“As opposed to me.” 
“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”
“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 
“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 
Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 
“I don’t like him,” you say. 
“As opposed to me.” 
You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 
“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 
Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 
It’s an obvious lie. 
“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 
His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 
“You can finally get some rest.” 
He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 
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himbosandhardwear · 5 months ago
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It's a stupid fucking scheme, and he never would've gone along with it if he was sober, but she really didn't give him much time to contemplate it, she just shoved him into the pantry and yelled for Eddie to come into the kitchen.
Now he's got his head pressed against the slats while Rob asks Eddie if he thinks Steve is cute. Like they're in the fifth grade.
“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, clearly confused and put on the spot.
“C'mon,” she coaxes, “you can tell me, gay to lesbian solidarity.”
That's terrible, using that to weasel the information out of him.
“I mean…sure, I guess he's alright,” Eddie admits. “He's not really my type though.”
Oh.
Well…that's…fine.
“Seriously?” Rob asks like she doesn't believe him. “You don't think he's hot?”
“I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers, but, yeah, seriously. Not my thing. He's too…I don't know, high maintenance or something. I like my guys a little more, like, dingy.”
Steve nods to himself in understanding. He should've seen that coming but he hadn't. It's sobering.
Robin isn't finished arguing her case, the beautiful idiot. “Steve's dingy!” She yells, making Eddie laugh. “He is! He's plenty dingy! And he has other fine qualities! Like, uh, loyalty! And being helpful!”
“Are you trying to set me up with your painfully straight best friend or a golden retriever?”
“Steve's not-”
“Okay!” Steve shouts, bursting out of the pantry, yes he understands the irony, with both hands waving. “This was fun but let's wrap it up.”
Eddie stares at him, wide-eyed, but it quickly melts into anger. “What the fuck, Buckley? What kind of weird, pointless ambush is this?”
“It wasn't pointless, you fucking troglodyte. If you were paying attention-”
“Rob.” Steve didn't mean for his voice to do that but it has the intended effect. She clamps her mouth shut and pouts. “Sorry,” he says to both of them. To Eddie, “Seriously, it was a stupid idea. We're both drunk and being stupid, just forget this happened.”
Unfortunately, it doesn't look as though Eddie is going to forget any time soon. In fact, it's more like he's studying them both for clues, the wheels turning despite the whiskey and weed gumming them up.
Steve's about to turn tail and run when the lightbulb goes off. Eddie doesn't look like he believes the conclusion he's come to but he's figured it out nonetheless. “Wait. No. Seriously? No way.”
His eyeballs are aching. He pushes against them, causing starbursts behind the eyelids. “Can we please not do this?” He begs.
Eddie sputters. “If this is me finding out you're queer, Steve Harrington, then yes, we most certainly are!” He looks at Robin but she's stonewalling him in solidarity.
The fact that neither of them has said anything to the contrary is damning enough. Steve might as well have ‘bisexual’ tattooed across his forehead.
“Holy shit.” Eddie snatches Robin by the wrist, she tries to wrestle her way out but he's jangling her about like a rag doll. “Holy shit! You were trying to set us up! Holy shit!”
“Let go, asshole! You ruined it, remember?”
He does let her go, so he can stare at Steve in horror. “No! Fuck! Steve, I was bullshitting! I was lying my ass off, I swear!” He tries to round the corner of the island but Steve moves to keep it between them, unsure of this sudden development. Eddie stops when it's clear Steve isn't reciprocating.
They stare at each other until Robin breaks the awkward silence. “Prove it.”
Eddie shakes off the cobwebs. “Huh? I mean, how? I wasn't exactly doodling Mr Edward Harrington into my journals.”
She crosses her arms. “Then I guess we're done here.”
Steve doesn't point out that she's not actually in charge of this situation because it seems to motivate Eddie into action. He gives them the ‘one moment’ finger and then dashes outside.
“You believe him?” She mumbles.
“I don't know. At this point I'd probably settle for him looking to turn me into a bedpost notch.”
“Have some self-respect.”
“Nah.”
Eddie comes back, dragging Jeff by the arm.
“Tell him!” He shouts, finger pointed at Steve.
“Tell him what?”
“The thing that shall not be spoken.”
Jeff raises one eyebrow. “How am I supposed to-”
“Oh my god, just tell him.”
“No.”
Eddie blanches. “No? What do you mean, no?”
“You made me swear.”
“So?! I'm unswearing you! This is important! I need you to unfuck this situation, pronto! You can give him all the gory details, I don't give a fuck, just tell him!”
A gleam sparkles in Jeff's eye. “Every gory detail?”
Now Eddie, correctly wary, hesitates, glancing at Steve nervously. “Well, maybe not all-”
Jeff interrupts Eddie, turning fully toward Steve with, “Eddie is bananas in love with you. Probably has been since school, but it's gotten so much worse since this spring. I'd say seventy five percent of the songs he's written are about you. He's also got a fully fleshed out fantasy life involving you, including, but not limited to, five adopted Vietnamese kids, two cats and a dog.” He turns back to Eddie. “Can I go back outside now? Those hotdogs aren't going to eat themselves.”
Eddie, eyes closed, waves him away.
Before he's fully out of the kitchen, he turns and says, “Oh, also he has a VHS copy of one of your swim meets. Bought it off of some AV kid for sixty bucks.”
Steve's stomach, already roiling with excited nerves, erupts in butterflies.
Eddie does not notice this, head buried under crossed arms on the island.
“I think we've swung too far in the other direction,” Rob points out, oblivious to Steve's excitement. When she finally does notice, it's met with rolled eyes. “Of course you're into that. Absolute freaks, the both of you. You know what? Good. Take each other off the market. My job here is done.”
She hops off the stool and leaves them alone.
Eddie cautiously pokes his head up, sees Steve smiling at him and jolts up straight like a prairie dog. “You believe me?”
He wants to toy with him for a minute, a touch of revenge for the dismissal he made earlier. “What swim meet was it?” He asks, like a test.
Without missing a beat, Eddie answers, “March of ‘85. You beat some kid from West Jefferson by four seconds.”
Steve preens. Eddie isn't bullshitting, he really did beat that kid from West Jeff. Only someone who gave a shit to pay attention would know that off hand. The whiskey makes another appearance in his bloodstream, giving him the courage to lean over the counter, into Eddie's space.
“So…you like me?”
Eddie has this incredibly endearing habit of hiding behind his hair when he’s nervous, it takes Steve out at the knees every time he sees it. “I'm gonna be really pissed off if this is some convoluted prank but…yeah, man, I fucking like you. Romantically. In case that was in question.”
“Mmm,” Steve agrees. “What are our kids' names?”
Eddie closes his eyes against Steve's smug stare. “I hate Jeff so much.”
“I don't. I'll thank him at our wedding. Maybe we name one of the kids after him.”
When Eddie peeks at him, one eyed, Steve does his best to convey his amusement and fondness both.
His body goes lax, finally, at seeing Steve take all it seriously. “Okay, so I like the idea of all of them keeping their Vietnamese names, except one who we name James.”
“After Hetfield?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes. Please.”
Some time later, after making out in the pantry for a while, Steve vetoes James, but only because he doesn't want the poor kid to grow up with a complex.
“We’ll call the dog Jimmy.”
“Cool.”
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joyful-soul-collector · 1 year ago
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I've seen a lot of people talking about how Barbie talks about how the patriarchy affects women and how well it does that, so I wanna talk about how Barbie talks about how the patriarchy affects men and how well it does that. Because it does that really well tbh.
At the beginning of the movie, it's made very clear that the Kens are constantly competing with each other, and trying to prove their worth, their Ken-ness, to both the Barbies, and more importantly, to the other Kens. In fact, multiple times through the movie it's shown that Ken seems to find the opinions of other Kens as a motivator for him to do things. He tries to show off to Barbie only after he sees the other Kens saying hi to her. He only starts dancing with Barbie when he sees the other Kens dancing with her. He only goes with her to the Real World after another Ken accuses him of cowardice and he decides to prove him wrong. Barbie says "Ken's not cool!" and Ken responds "He is to me."
This shows so damn well what the patriarchy is like for men. Because for the Kens it's not necessarily about Barbie, it's about what other Kens think of you. Being a man you are constantly, incessantly trying so damn hard to prove to the other men around you that you are a man, the manliest man to ever man, the best Ken to ever Ken. Literally doing backflips trying to prove yourself. And this is before patriarchy is even officially introduced to the story, there's no undertone of power yet, this is just what it's like to be a man around other men. It's toxic masculinity.
And when the patriarchy is introduced, that's increased tenfold. At first it looks like they've banded together to take power, but really they're still competing with each other, they're just doing it differently. Rather than competing to see who can get Barbie to fall in love with them, they're competing to see who can be the manliest, have the manliest stuff, wear the manliest clothes, have the manliest house and decorations.
And then they literally go to war. War is considered one of the few places where it's socially accepted for men to be more emotional, form deep and personal bonds with other men, and that's exactly what happens in the movie. They go to war, and there's an entire song where they bond and learn not to fight with each other anymore.
And that I think is the message from the Kens. For men, the way the patriarchy affects them is it forces constant competition and animosity, even around people that are supposed to be your friends. It makes it impossible to express your feelings unless they're with a romantic partner, and all of this turns you into a pent up ball of emotions with nowhere to go.
Which means that the message is: In order to fix the way the patriarchy oppresses men, men need to learn how to form close bonds with people, especially other men. Because like Barbie said to Ken, he needs to discover who he is without her. Men have learned to lean on women as a crutch, using them to figure out how to Be A Person and express emotions in a healthy way, but this can very quickly turn into a woman feeling like she needs too be his mother and teach him how to do these things. And Ken was 100% doing this, or at least he was trying to throughout the movie. Ken was so desperate for Barbie to be in love with him, not necessarily because he loved her, but because he needed a person he could just exist as himself around. Because he couldn't do that with the other Kens, the only person he could be himself around was Barbie.
And what's so great about the end of the movie is that the Kens did eventually figure out how to form close bonds with each other! They went to war, argued and fought, but by the end of the song they were holding hands, kissing each other on the cheek, telling each other they were enough. Even when Ken is up in the dreamhouse, crying and saying that he looks stupid, all the other Kens start shouting back up to him, saying that he looks cool. And Ken responds by giving one of his new friends his coat, which was clearly very important to him.
What the Kens did, that's what men in the real world need to do. They need to form close bonds with other men and stop competing with each other. Hopefully not by going to war the way the Kens did, Barbie isn't a blueprint for solving the patriarchy lol.
I'd be happy to do it through a song though.
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 1 month ago
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Wait, I was reading your posts and came across something I've found confusing. How is Adrien asking Ladybug wth she is doing in Volpina a bad thing? From Adrien's perspective, Ladybug's a celebrity tracking down a middle schooler with zero clout and humiliating her for lying about meeting her before. That's, uh yeah? Imagine if that happened irl lmao. Millions of teenage girls would perish at 1D's hands. My middle school would be a horror story. And it's made clear multiple times in the episode that her motivation is jealousy. It's one of the few episodes where the lesson Marinette gets makes sense I think, because she was genuinely spiteful in shitting on this random girl in front of her crush. That's significantly different than Ladybug just asking for a retraction from the Ladyblog. It's also one of the few times when Adrien's celebrity background actually affects how he acts, and it makes sense that Marinette doesn't make the connection between superhero=celebrity=not allowed to scream at middleschoolers in public. If half the kids in her school didn't lie about meeting Ladybug before, my suspension of disbelief is gone.
I've seen this argument before and it makes no sense to me, especially in the context of the lie that Lila actually told and the way the Lila confrontation actually goes down. A lot of people who have this take seem to think that Lila's lie was, "Ladybug saved me," and that Ladybug made a big public confrontation which is not what canon actually gave us. The confrontation was done in a mostly private setting and, while we never see Lila's full Ladyblog interview, this is how Ladybug sums up the interview in Volpina:
Ladybug:(sarcastically) Well hey Lila! How's it going? Long time no see. I saw your interview on the Ladyblog, awesome job. Oh sure! I remember our instant connection when I saved your life and we've been really good friends ever since! Practically BFF's! Uh actually, when did I save your life again, Lila? I don't recall. Oh yes! Of course, now I remember. Never! And we're not friends either! Miss Show-Off here was trying to impress you and everyone around her.
Lila didn't just lie about meeting Ladybug, she lied about having an ongoing, close relationship with Ladybug, two very different things. And Ladybug isn't just a celebrity, she's a superhero who is fighting an active terrorist. If I had to rewrite this confrontation, I'd keep it pretty much the same and just change the "Miss Show-Off" line to something like:
Miss Show-Off here was trying to impress you and everyone around her, putting herself and all of you at major risk! You know that Hawkmoth would do anything to get these, right? (gestures at her earrings) Did you even stop to think about what he'd do if he learned the identity of my supposed best friend? Of course not. You were too busy trying to look cool to stop and think things through like an actual superhero! We keep our identities and relationships secret for a reason!
Is this the kindest, most gentle way to confront someone like Lila? No, but it's very in character for Marinette to be filled with righteous fury when she sees someone using her name for their own personal gain. I really can't blame her for getting incredibly angry at this total stranger presenting herself as a Ladybug authority and using that authority to manipulate Marinette's friends. As I've said before, take away the crush complication and Marinette's actions still make total sense to me.
I'm not a huge proponent of virtue ethics. That's the idea that you need proper motivation for an act to be morally justified. If you do the right thing for the wrong reason, then the act is bad no matter how good the results and vice versa. If you view the world that way, then sure, you could possibly argue that Marinette's actions were wrong just like you can also argue that Gabriel's actions were totally fine, but I don't view the world that way. Switch Marinette's motivation from jealousy and a little righteous fury to pure righteous fury and almost nothing changes. She'd still need to confront Lila, the words would just be a little different.
It's not like this confrontation stops Lila, either. Chameleon gives us this:
Lila: (in flashback) Not only did Ladybug save my life, we've become very close friends. Marinette: She lies with every breath. Nino: Wait. You eavesdropped on Lila and Adrien? That's not cool. Alya: A good reporter always verifies her sources. Can you prove she doesn't actually know Ladybug?
Quick mini rant before I give the next Chameleon quote: this isn't how verifying your sources works, Alya! You should be verifying that Lila does know Ladybug, not the other way around! Right now, Marinette and Lila have equal authority on the topic as far as you know and there is no evidence to support either claim, so you should be looking for proof that Lila isn't lying! Proof isn't a first come, first serve problem even though a lot of people fall into that trap. This is especially true since Lila goes on to make claims like this:
Lila: Of course Ladybug saved my life. She never misses an opportunity to rescue her best friends. Max: Didn't your tinnitus give you vertigo when you went up the Eiffel Tower? Lila: Oh no. Ladybug knows me so well that she brought me an earplug to stick in my right ear.
So Lila keeps right on lying about her relationship with Ladybug, presenting them as close friends, making it even harder for me to get on the "Marinette was in the wrong for privately confronting Lila" train. If anything, Marinette was too tame! She needed to go full scorched earth and have Alya post a public retraction that included a message about the dangers of claiming to be personal friends with someone you don't actually know.
If the show went that route and had Ladybug give an equally furious smack-down and Alya posted it without a second thought, THEN I'd probably be on team "Marinette needed to tone herself down because she went too far" because that isn't a heat-of-the-moment reaction. It's something Marinette would have time to think through. But Volpina didn't go there. Instead, we just get Marinette reacting live to someone using her name to flirt with her crush. Remember, this is the setup to Marinette transforming and jumping in to stop Lila:
Lila: Not only did Ladybug save my life, we've become very close friends because we have something very special in common- it's what I wanted to tell you about. I'm the descendant of a vixen superheroine myself, Volpina. Adrien: Volpina? Marinette: Volpina? Adrien: Wait a minute! I think I read about her in my book. Lila:(stopping him from grabbing the book) Of course she's in your book. She's one of the most important superheroes. More powerful and more celebrated than Ladybug. Between you and me Ladybug doesn't even make the top ten. My grandma gave me this necklace. [Marinette runs off to transform] Adrien: (holding Lila's necklace) Are you telling me this is a Miraculous?! (Ladybug lands in front of them)
This wasn't a planned confrontation. It was Marinette reacting live to some pretty massive lies. If Ladybug had been swinging by and just overhead this, then the scene once again wouldn't change much. That's why blaming Marinette for confronting Lila in the "wrong way" feels so victim blame-y to me. "How dare Ladybug not be perfectly poised at all times and react with grace when someone lies about being her close friend and teammate!" is not a take I'm ever going to agree with. And if you want to use the middle schooler defense? Then it applies to Marinette, too. She and Lila are the same age. Why the different standards just because Marinette has fame that she never asked for or sought out?
I've never been much of a fan of holding celebrities to an "always on" standard where their every interaction needs to be done with poise and grace even if the interaction happens out in the wild and not at a planned even where the celebrity can be mentally prepared for dealing with fans. That's extra true for accidental celebrities like Ladybug. Marinette didn't take up the earrings for fame and they certainly haven't brought her fortune, plus she has no PR training. Expecting her to be a PR master who knows how to handle her accidental fame is, once again, a little too victim blame-y for my tastes. Ladybug is here to save the world, not sign autographs. You can hold her to politician standards when you start paying her for risking her life on the daily.
There's a version of Lila where I would have a different take. A version where the lie really is minor and Marinette really did "overreact", but even there my lesson wouldn't be "Marinette was totally in the wrong" because I genuinely think that sends the wrong message to kids and kids are the show's target audience. Think about what you're actually saying here, "Because Marinette is famous, she needs to accept that people will lie about her and just ignore them even if people believe the lie."
While that isn't exactly a wrong take, it's still really messed up. It's not okay for people to use Marinette's name like that just because she's famous. The reason she needs to learn to let it go is because that's what's best for her mental health, not because her fame makes her lesser than others when it comes to things like personal privacy. The lies are not magically okay just because she's well known.
Remember, Marinette is a fictional character, but the kids watching this show are very real and they're way more likely to be Lilas than Marinettes. And the kids that do relate to Marinette in this episode? They'll be kids who have dealt with the rumor mill spreading lies about them or their friends without the celebrity complication. The show should not be telling either set of kids that Marinette is the one in the wrong here. That is the wrong moral and why I hate this episode so much. I might feel differently if the intended audience was teens and if this plot was allowed to be more complex, but none of that is true. The show is aimed at kids ages 5 to 12 and every episode is supposed to teach its own moral with Volpina's moral being "Marinette was explicitly and totally in the wrong here."
This is the age of internet personalities where there are more easily-accessible celebrities than ever and where many of them do not have the wealth needed to protect themselves from fans nor the PR training to know how to handle extreme fans if there even is PR training for that! That means that it's honestly really important for kids to learn to view these individuals as people who it's wrong to lie about and who deserve the same respect as non-famous people. Treating celebrities as public commodities is how we get things like the Kit Connor scandal where an 18-year-old actor felt forced to publicly come out because the internet wouldn't shut up about his sexuality. Oh, and since you brought up one direction, I'll also note that the band members have publicly stated that online shipping discourse has negatively impacted their relationships. So, yeah, I'm never going to agree that kids should be told that it's okay to lie about celebrities or treat them as fictional characters to play with and that the celebrities are the ones who are wrong if they get upset about that behavior. That shit is toxic.
If we go the "minor" lie route, then my version of this episode would be a very sad one where Marinette learns that people are going to ignore her boundaries and lie about her and there's nothing she can do about it. A lesson in mental health training that will hopefully help kids who are dealing with bullies, but that does not present Marinette as totally in the wrong. It just teaches her when to pick a fight and when to let it go, which is a very important skill to learn even outside of lies about your own person. There will be many times when you hear people say something that you vehemently disagree with and it's important to learn when to pick a fight and when to just let it go, knowing that no good will come from speaking up even if you're 100% in the right. It's a very sad, but also very necessary skill.
I think Adrien has a place in that story. A place where he still tells Ladybug to let it go, but it should NOT have been played the way it was in canon where he acted like Ladybug was totally out of line. He needed to be way more compassionate and understanding of her very justified anger. I've written Adrien giving advice on this topic before and it's always presented as, "people are going to be assholes and you have to learn to ignore them for your own well being," not as, "you are wrong to be upset about strangers telling lies about you. You agreed to deal with this when you decided to be a hero" because what kind of asinine lesson is that?
You could also keep Adrien's canon reaction and have the lesson be him learning that it's okay to have boundaries. That his fame doesn't negate his bodily autonomy and right to be treated with dignity. That people chasing him down, invading his personal space, and otherwise preventing him from living a normal life is wrong. I love it when fanfics take this approach to Adrien's part in the Lila conflict. It's very cathartic to see his friends supporting him and protecting him from Lila.
I really have tried to see Volpina from the "Marinette was totally in the wrong" perspective because I've come across it several times, but I just can't wrap my head around it. If you've got a counter argument, then feel free to try to change my mind because I've given you my full thoughts here, but know that I'm probably not budging on this one. You'd have to make some pretty dramatic changes to canon for me to feel like this take has a point. I think the only way that I'd be on Lila's side is if it was very clear that no one believed Lila and Marinette still had the same reaction that we see in canon as that does feel like going too far. But everyone believed Lila so that's not a solid argument and I'm just never going to agree that people have to be cool with others lying about them just because they're famous. I honestly despise celebrity culture so much and hate that people are basically forced to deal with that bullshit if they want to be successful in certain artistic fields.
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revelboo · 14 days ago
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The speed in which you crank out fics is concerning. Like, I appreciate it WHOLLY, but are you good? R u ok?
Rest is overrated, I run on stress and coffee. Yes, I’m good. I can write short form like this pretty quickly if I’m not at work or busy.
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Humans Are Weird/Cute Headcanons
Humans elicit one of two reactions in Cybertronians. It’s not like they haven’t seen organic life before, but the fact that we look vaguely like most Cybertronians in form? Our faces, our body shapes, two legs and two arms just like them? It either creates an unconscious association that we look like tiny, organic Cybertronians or that the similarities are just unsettling. Compounding it is the way we move, the gestures we use that are so eerily like their own. To make it worse, we’re just so helpless compared to them. Fragile. There’s a tendency to react to us like we would a newborn kitten. And for that protectiveness to eventually slide into possessiveness.
TFP Knockout
• Primus. The first time he saw you in full racing leathers, boots, gloves, and that helmet, he just stopped short in surprise. Thinks of the rare times he’d seen minicons and how you look like one instead of just another squishy, little human. And while he’d initially just been invested in figuring out how an inferior, little human beat him in a race, it doesn’t take long for him to start looking forward to those almost nightly meetings. It becomes less about winning and more about the bull session between you two after. Enjoying when you stand up to him, argue with him, even though you must realize he could hurt you so easily if he wanted to.
IDW Bumblebee
• It’s honestly such a pleasant surprise how tactile humans are. You seem to have no sense of personal space and he loves it, because it’s less lonely when you’re near. You don’t mind being picked up and carried, your little frame so warm in his hands or cradled against him. Always so curious, your little hands exploring his servos, while you smile to yourself. Then holding out your own hands so he can carefully manipulate them with a single servo. It’s like a game between you, showing off your little, blunt teeth so he will bare his denta for you as you sit on his thigh.
IDW Bluestreak
• Knows he can be a bit annoying to some bots, but you never seem bothered by his chatter. Actually asking him questions, interacting and it means so much to him when you stretch out against him, laying a cheek on him to listen to the sound of his voice rumbling through you. Liking it when he talks, wanting to be near him. The big surprise, though? How protective you are of him, not even thinking twice about throwing a shoe at Sunny for making a rude comment aimed at him, your little face red as you snarl at the much bigger bot, who’s too shocked at the outburst to respond.
IDW Starscream
• Having so little to call his own, he’s extremely possessive of you. It doesn’t hurt that you’re always happy to see him, greeting him when he returns from patrol, fussing over his injuries like you’re trying to take care of him. No conniving or plotting in you and no ulterior motives for seeking out his company. Aside from leeching body heat, and he hardly minds that, enjoys the feel of you sprawled against him, the peaceful silence.
TFP Soundwave
• Even though he initially took you because of the effect your strange organic thoughts have on him to try and understand why he can’t shut you out, it’s impossible to stay impartial. Every day he tries to inoculate himself against your thoughts, strengthening that connection through touch. And when you start reaching for him in return it’s a surprise. Eventually you sing for him not because he asked you to in an effort to distract you and focus your thoughts on something so they’re less painful to him, but because you want to. Because you think it makes him happy and it does.
ES Megatron
• He’d never paid much attention to humans until he’d met Dorothy, he’d fought alongside her and suddenly humanity wasn’t just something vaguely annoying getting in his way, under ped. It’s harder to not care after getting to know humans. Harder to not be overprotective about you after making it his mission to look after you. And maybe he’s a bit overzealous about it, because you’re not Dorothy. She can stand on her own and take care of herself, but you? You need him.
IDW Optimus
• He’s so used to being bigger than most Autobots. Of being looked up to, but you’re even tinier than they are. Small enough to carry in one hand even though he’s awkward about asking you to let him carry you at first. But after the spark twisting anxiety of watching you walking where bigger Cybertronians are walking? Seeing it not even occur to you that you might get stepped on? He insists on carrying you for your own safety, though, truth be told, he enjoys the feel of you in his servos, that little bemused smile you aim at him.
IDW Thundercracker
• He feels guilty sometimes about taking you, but it’s for the best even if you’re upset now. He’s seen enough movies to know how to coax you, win you over. He became obsessed with human love stories, the drama and romance. And he wants that for himself. Needs it. So he tries different tactics, little gifts and acts meant to convince you to love him. It’s so easy in the movies.
TFP Megatron
• The game you two play has become something of a guilty pleasure of his. Watching you pretend. Pushing you to see how far you’ll allow before you snap at him. Pretending you aren’t scared of him, though he’s seen the fear in your eyes once or twice and while it had amused him at first, he prefers you snarling back at him, all attitude. Your fear twists unpleasantly through him, but that angry defiance? So lovely.
IDW Soundwave
• He never meant to get so attached to you after he’d found you in Starscream’s quarters that day. You’re just so small and you’d looked at him in fear, your wild emotions almost crippling him since he couldn’t shut it out. Even after you calmed, days later, he finds himself reaching out a thought. Finding you and monitoring you from a distance. Again and again until he’d finally had to check on you in person again. After all, what did Starscream really know about caring for anyone, let alone a human. And that hesitant, little smile had warmed him when you’d looked up at him.
IDW Jazz
• The fact that you can see through his lies and will call him out on it? It’s a surprise and a relief. Letting down his defenses, letting you in takes time. He’s worn that smiling, carefree mask for so long. But he slowly lets it fall away when it’s just the two of you, feeling the absence of that weight he’d carried for so long. Getting to know who he is under the facade.
IDW Prowl
• Has to protect you since you don’t seem to understand just how small and delicate you are. Standing up to him and any other bot with zero fear. Something about that reckless anger calls to him. Around the other Autobots, he has to be the one in control, the one with a plan no matter what. Never allowed to falter or hesitate. You spark his own temper, making it easier to drop the act. Be frustrated or angry when it’s just you two. Be real.
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lovelyhan · 1 year ago
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— meet cute of the century ⟢
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 25.4k words
★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut
★ NOTES; it's finally done!! and it turned out to be the longest oneshot i've written ever T T i reaaally didn't mean it to become this long but i got overly self-indulgent so here we are :3c also psa that this story features a handful of other characters from the series, so if you find them familiar that's totally on purpose HEH
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, service top wonwoo, praise kink, voice kink, first time together, fingering, creampie, ofc they're grossly in love
★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @coffeestay - @jkbabiey
★ SERIES TAGLIST; @ti--red - @jeonwonhi - @gyusbabydoll - @xiaoting999 - @marksluvr0 - @ohmyhuenings - @downbadreading
P.S. i reserve the right to refuse to add you to my taglist if you don't have any age indicators in your profile :^)
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There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment. 
Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically. 
You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the employee roster anyways. 
Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.
Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?
“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mina whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”
Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.
You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mina informs you of the news and she immediately breaks into a fit of laughter. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”
“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.” 
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into taking one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.” 
While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mina. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.
Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.
While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch more colorful once he walks out of the front door. 
Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.
“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him. 
“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”
God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.
“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”
His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.
“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at a small black kitten huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.” 
“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”
“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”
…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you? 
But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”
“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.” 
You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”
Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”
“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”
“Mmm… Not exactly.”
The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.
Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.
Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…
“Wait!”
Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”
You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”
He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—
“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.
Shit. Did your heart just stutter?
“Mister Woo—”
“Just Woo is fine.”
“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”
Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by. 
This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home. Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real. 
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!
So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mina if she’s seen them once—
“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.
Wait a minute.
Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back. 
“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”
That’s the first thing that Mina tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange. 
“What makes you think that?” 
“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.” 
You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mina, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”
“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”
God. This is going to be a long shift.
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The next time you see Woo is, surprisingly, not at an ungodly hour in the shelter. 
Well, it’s still at an ungodly hour, but the change in venue is a little baffling. You were up all night studying (read: cramming) for a major exam that you’ll take at eight in the morning the next day. When you were finally at your wit’s end, you decidedly hauled yourself away from your laptop and fluttered off to the only twenty four-hour coffee shop in the neighborhood. 
You don’t usually frequent this place because you’ve tasted their shitty americanos firsthand, but you’re not in the mood to grind some beans yourself and you’re much too stubborn to drink anything instant—convinced the powdered concoction would only make you sleepier.
So here you are, in line for an espresso because you’ve decided to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe not everything on the menu tastes less than it’s worth. With how many other students are pulling all-nighters here, that should be testament enough that they tolerate the place’s drinks enough to linger. 
But, to your horror, when you’re right in front of the graveyard shift barista, he informs you that wireless payments have been temporarily disabled and that they’re only accepting cash up front. You make a show of patting down the pockets of your hoodie to check for your wallet even if you know damn well that you left it back at your apartment on purpose. Just when you’re about to resign yourself to buying shitty instant coffee at a Seven Eleven instead, the person behind you in line clears his throat. 
“Uh, I can pay for her drink.” 
You don’t think you’ve ever whipped your head around to check for a person’s identity faster than you did at that moment. It’s not that you’re particularly obsessed with the low timber of his voice or anything, but you’d recognize the way the shelter’s late night regular speaks in a goddamn heartbeat.
“Woo?” you scowl as he maneuvers himself to the front of the line, bringing out that same Louis Vuitton wallet you were ogling the last time you saw him. 
He pulls out a few banknotes and places them on top of the counter with what you think is a smile behind his mask. “Couple that with four iced americanos please.”
You purposely hold your tongue about your personal vendetta against that particular drink as the barista nods, punching in Woo’s order and asking for a name. Just when you thought he’d say the same one he’d given when you’d asked, however—
“Soonyoung. Oh, and I’ll get those drinks to go, please.” 
Your gaze is on him the entire time as the two of you shuffle to the end of the counter to wait for your drinks. Woo is doing a pretty okay job at playing it cool despite the fact that he lied about the names on his orders. Or maybe he lied when he told you his name was Woo. 
Either way, does it matter? It’s not strange for people to make up fake names for baristas to write on their coffees—Mina does it all the time. But something about the idea that the man standing in front of you doesn’t look like a Soonyoung bothers you more than it should. It makes you wonder what his actual name is and if it’s weird to ask when he already gave you one to address him with—
“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he suddenly says and you nearly have a heart attack.
“Uh,” you start somewhat dumbly, before finally getting a hold of your brain. “I live around the area. Thought I could use a drink if I didn’t want to sleep through my lecture notes.”
He lets out a low chuckle and at that moment, you let yourself observe him a little more closely. His hair is hidden behind a black beanie which he expertly paired with an equally black parka that’s zipped up all the way. He’s wearing a different pair of glasses today—one with thick, black frames—and you’re starting to get an idea of what his favorite color might be.
“Is that why I haven’t seen you at the shelter these days?” he wonders. “Every time I dropped by last week, you weren’t on shift.”
Oh. Shit, he’s been visiting still? And he was looking for you?
“Yup, I needed to take a few days off because if I wanna graduate, I’ve got to keep myself from failing any of my majors,” you explain as briefly as you can—not wanting to go into detail about GPA requirements and your thesis. “How about you? Why’re you out and about at this hour, Soonyoung?”
It’s kind of adorable, how the tips of his ears flush pink at your words. “Soonyoung’s one of my friends. I actually went out tonight because I lost a bet and had to buy four of us coffee.”
You’re not sure how and why you feel a wave of relief wash over you, so instead, you brush the feeling aside before leaning against the counter. “Lost a bet about what, pray tell?”
Woo is quiet for a while, as if contemplating if he should unveil his losses to someone who’s virtually still a stranger before letting out a defeated sigh.
“Mario Kart.”
The snort you let out draws a few curious stares from other customers sitting near the counter and you force out an apology that’s underscored with a hiccup of laughter. Woo doesn’t seem at all offended by your reaction though. In fact, he seems even amused by it.
Not ten seconds later, the barista calls out his—rather, Soonyoung’s name and he hands you your drink while he carries a takeout package in his other hand. You try not to think too much about the way his fingers brush against yours when he gives it to you, thanking him despite the obvious redness settling across your cheeks.
“I actually meant to text you last week but I didn’t know if you were comfortable with it,” Woo admits as he opens the door to the coffee shop for you—thanking him as you step out of the air conditioned space and into the humid evening air. “I wanted to ask about the adoption requirements at the shelter.”
Part of you is a little skeptical about his explanation because… If he’s been dropping by your workplace as often as he claimed last week, then he could’ve just asked the other staff about the details. Why wait until he meets you again to bring it up? 
But of course, you’re way too polite to ask that to his face.
“I don’t mind you texting me about that or…anything, really,” you say, turning up the flap on the lid of your espresso before taking a small sip. Bearable. “It’s not like I’m too busy to respond to you. Well, I kinda am, but I can spare a few minutes.”
Woo nods with a soft laugh. “Okay. I’ll just get into detail via text later. I gotta bring these coffees back or they’ll chew me out for the rest of the night for being late. Oh, but do you need someone to walk home with you?”
The idea of having your not-work crush escorting you home flusters you more than it should and when you take another sip of your drink, it nearly goes down the wrong hole. Woo pats your back in comforting fashion when you sputter from your coffee, tears stinging your eyes as you attempt to breathe like a normal person. Fuck, you must look so fucking weird right now.
“I-I, um, sorry about that.” You cough into your fist, laughing uneasily as you grip your drink a little too tightly. “No, it’s fine. I only live a few blocks away.”
Now that you mention it, does that mean Woo is the same? If he’s out here in this specific neighborhood at this specific hour, that would only mean he lives in the area, or is at least staying for the meantime, right? But before you could get swept up by your own curiosity, you immediately sweep any and all ideas under the rug.
“Oh, that’s—that’s good to know.”
He sounds disappointed. Why does he sound disappointed?
“So I guess this is goodbye? ” you start. 
Woo nods briskly. “Yup. I’ll keep in touch.”
You chuckle. “That’s what you said last time.”
Whoa. Were you propositioning him or something? Sometimes, it baffles you how one minute, you’re choking on a cup of coffee—several shades embarrassed—and the next, you’re practically daring him to text you like he said he would.
“And I’ll make good on that as soon as time permits.” Woo shakes his head with a laugh. “It was nice seeing you again, though. Good luck with your exams.”
You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up yet again at the thought of him having remembered that you mentioned your exams. “Thanks. I think I need all the luck I can get.”
When Woo turns to look at you through those thick-rimmed glasses, you almost wish you could see the smile that’s undoubtedly spreading behind that pesky mask of his. 
“I’ll be happy to give it to you every time then.”
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Today was probably the shittiest day of the week.
Not only did you spectacularly flunk the exam you took this morning whilst running on less than two hours of sleep, but your thesis adviser emailed you about several concerns regarding the latest version of your manuscript. Needless to say, you spent a good chunk of your day holed up in the university library, consulting new reference materials to back up your data since the ones you used were much too outdated for your adviser’s liking. 
It should’ve been something you’d consider a walk in the park, given the many revisions that have preceded this one, but it just so happens that you’ve got three more exams to worry about for the remainder of the week. Meaning, you had to squeeze in a few minutes of studying in between editing your newest draft and telling yourself that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you got held back for one semester before graduating. 
You’ve been so caught up with your piling academic responsibilities that you’ve barely looked at your phone. You only deigned to dig it out of the deepest pit of your backpack when you got a little hungry and wondered if they still let food delivery guys past the school gates. To your surprise, you’re greeted with a few text messages that you immediately feel horrible for not replying to the moment they were delivered. 
Unknown Number [10:45]: So about those adoption requirements…
Unknown Number [11:33]: Oh. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s Woo.
Ignoring the fact that you’re obviously famished, you hastily type in a response after marking down Woo’s number with a black cat emoji right next to his name. It takes a moment because you’re so shaky, you end up suffering from a few typos here and there.
Me [13:10]: hey! sorry i was a bit busy and i just saw these…
Me [13:10]: what do you wanna know? i’m on a self-imposed lunch break rn
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:15]: No worries, I figured you got a long day ahead. Hope lunch is good at least.
Me [13:16]: actually, i haven’t ordered anything yet ‘cause time got away from me but Anyways
Me [13:16]: you wanted details abt the adoption process?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:18]: What? You haven't eaten yet?
Me [13:18]: yeah, but it’s no big deal. i could just have some food delivered.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:19]: Well, I’m out right now. I could just buy some food for you and drop it off. 
Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you read each word of Woo’s text message. Is he being serious right now? The guy just paid for your coffee last night—a coffee that you forgot to pay back because of how surprising the circumstances were. Now he’s offering to buy you lunch?
Me [13:20]: you really don’t have to, i swear!! i’ve still got a few discount vouchers in baenim
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:22]: I insist. I’ve got my bike with me anyway.
Me [13:22]: bike? like, a bicycle?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:23]: Mmm. Close. Anyway, what food do you want? 
Now what the hell does that mean?
Part of you feels like you should be freaked out with how…kind he’s being to you. The world is full of weirdos who play the nice guy just to do something despicable to you in the end. Yet another part of you—a less reasonable one, admittedly—insists that Woo is nothing like that, despite the fact that you barely know the guy. 
Then again, you’re tired, stressed out, and barely slept a wink last night. If the hot guy you’ve been quote-unquote crushing on is offering to buy you food, where’s the harm in accepting?
Me [13:25]: fine. i could use some yangnyeom chicken and tteokbokki. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:26]: Nice. I know a good place. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:27]: I’ll head out in a few, so just text me the address.
Right after sending your university’s pin location to Woo, you start to consider the chance of him being some sort of serial stalker. Could he be biding his time, trying to let your guard down and easing personal information out of you so he could do something nefarious when he gets you alone? Fuck. Maybe it’s a good idea you didn’t let him walk you home yesterday…
But despite the very real possibility of Woo being someone with bad intentions regardless of how nice he is, you see no problem in meeting him at the school gates when he arrives with your food. In fact, you don’t even feel apprehensive of him in spite of all the ideas you conjured in your head over the past hour.  
Me [14:15]: where are you?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:16]: Parked by the curb in front of a bookstore. You can’t miss me.
 Me [14:16]: i don’t even know what you Look like today, genius
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:17]: I told you, I’ve got my bike with me. I don’t see anyone else looking the same way within a twenty meter radius. 
You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. For someone you deemed as ‘nice’, he can get pretty mouthy if he wants to. 
You head to the general direction of the bookstore that Woo was talking about as you try to ignore your growling stomach. Given that the lunch rush is more or less over, the usual crowd of pedestrians has considerably thinned out and it makes it easier for you to scan the vicinity for any bike-wielding impromptu delivery guys. 
However, the only person that does stand out to you is some dude wearing a black leather jacket, chilling next to an expensive looking motorcycle as he taps away on his phone with a matching pair of leather gloves and everything. His face is obscured by a black helmet and you would’ve let your gaze go past him had it not been for a sudden realization that hits you right there.
Bike? Like, a bicycle?
Mmm. Close.
“Woo!” 
Of course the leather jacket-clad, expensive motorcycle-wielding man looks up at the sound of his name being called from across the street. The visor of his helmet is drawn all the way up and you could see that he isn’t wearing his glasses for good reason. He seems to perk up at the sight of you before grabbing something from the trunk of his motorcycle and jogging to meet you where you stood.
You’ve seen him sporting a spectrum of comfortable outfits during his late night visits, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed Woo looking as dapper as he is now.
“Late lunch delivery?” 
You don’t even try to hide the way you roll your eyes as you accept the paper bag he hands to you. “Thanks. How much do I owe you now? You already got me coffee and now lunch.”
He shakes his head and you find it a little ridiculous, considering he’s still wearing that huge helmet of his. “It’s on me. It’s the least I could do to repay you for being so accommodating.”
“Woo, I haven’t done shit for you ‘cause you’re yet to properly talk to me about the adoption process. What on earth are you talking about?” 
“But you will do shit for me when we do talk about it. I’m just repaying the favor in advance,” he rebuts cheekily before pulling back the sleeve of his jacket to check for the time. “Though as much as I want to do that now, I need to catch a flight in a few hours.”
That makes your expression morph into disbelief. “You need to catch a what?”
“A flight. Gotta head to Japan for a few days,” Woo tells you nonchalantly, as if heading to Japan for a few days is something people do on a regular basis. “Can you make sure no one else takes Hani home before I can settle everything on my end?”
You tell yourself that you’ve got time to mull over what this guy does for a living some other time. Clearing your throat, you manage an awkward smile. “Um, yeah, sure thing. You’re really attached to her, aren’t you?” 
“You can say that again,” he laughs softly. “She kinda reminds me of myself from a long time ago… But anyway, I’ve gotta go. Tell me what you think about the chicken when you’re done with it?”
You nod. “I’ll be as brutally honest with my review as possible.”
“Just the way I like it,” Woo replies, eyes crinkling with amusement.
When you head back to the library, the person you were sharing a table with looked after your stuff for you while you were gone. You thank her profusely before settling back into your seat, grabbing the takeout packages from the paper bag that Woo personally delivered to you. 
Before you can start wolfing down the delectable-smelling chicken he brought, however, you notice a cute sticky note plastered on the lid—a doodle of a cat with glasses and a speech bubble that says you can do it~ scribbled on the corner.
Don’t overwork yourself. It’s been ages since my last exam, but I know how hard it can be. Make sure to eat properly so you can absorb all the info you need.
When your head bangs against one of the many wooden tables in the library, the person seated at the far end stares at you with a concerned look. You can’t muster the energy to assure her that everything’s alright, though because…
That quote-unquote crush of yours? 
It’s starting to become a little too real.
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You’re in the middle of throwing out old files from the back room archive when Mina peeks her head into the doorway and says, “You’ve got a visitor again.”
One glance at the old wall clock hung above the steel cabinets tells you that it’s midnight, but you know for one that this mystery visitor isn’t Woo this time around. 
You’ve been keeping in touch with him through Kakao, since you can’t exactly afford to send international text messages to Japan and your new friend(?) has been keeping you posted about his shenanigans for the past week. He hasn’t replied to your last message from over three hours ago and you’re not so delusional to think he got on a plane back to Korea and is suddenly here to surprise you.
When you see who it is, though, your heart warms just a little.
“Why haven’t you been texting me back?” Haewon, your sister who’s two years younger, gets up from the seats lined up across the walls of the lobby. “I missed you!” 
You shake your head before pulling her into a hug. “I missed you, she says. But you’re really just looking for someone to show you around the city again, aren’t you?”
“Hey, missing you and needing a chaperone aren’t mutually exclusive,” she huffs and you notice that she’s in full fangirl gear again—a lightstick hanging off a strap slung across her shoulder, a windbreaker with her favorite boyband’s logo sewn on the front pocket, and of course, a photocard of Mingyu dangling from her little handbag.
Despite the fact that she’s also in college, Haewon chose to stay in your hometown in Jeju to pursue her studies there instead. The first few months since you left were the hardest—so unused to not having your little sister go on and on and on about how much she loves SEVENTEEN. But you’ve also come to appreciate the peace and quiet that living alone in Seoul affords you. 
Besides, with how much money she’s raised for being one of the more well-known event organizers in her fandom, Haewon can pretty much come visit you in Seoul whenever she feels like it. 
“I’m guessing your thirteen boyfriends have a thing going on?” you ask before glancing over at the playroom to make sure there aren’t any kittens left inside. 
Haewon nods enthusiastically. “Yup, they’re having a mini fanmeet outside their company building in a few days—”
“In a few days?” you parrot before gesturing for her to follow you in the break room so you can get changed. “What’re you doing out here all dressed up then?”
Your little sister rolls her eyes. “Unnie, I’m not some weirdo who wears their merch on a regular night for no reason. I came from this little cupsleeve event for Wonwoo’s birthday. Things ran a little late because we had to help clean up at the café.” 
While you’re not well-versed in fandom jargon, you have learned a few terms from Haewon here and there. Plus, she already took you to a cupsleeve event for another member’s birthday once. You’re not really sure who it was because the only one you do consistently remember is Mingyu—your sister’s ultimate bias, apparently. 
“What made you stop by then?” you wonder as you exchanged your work uniform for a loose shirt. “You didn’t tell me you were coming in advance. I could’ve fetched you from the airport.”
“I did tell you in advance.” She pouts. “But you said you were busy working on your manuscript when I did, so it must’ve slipped your mind.”
Oh. Okay, now you feel bad. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you this weekend with dinner?” 
Haewon whines. “Unnie, their fanmeet is on Saturday and I leave on Sunday.”
“So? How long is that going to be anyway?”
“Uh, all day?”
You sigh. “Fine. How about you crash in my place tonight and we can rewatch Hometown Cha Cha Cha while stuffing our faces with ramen?”
“Deal.”
After timing out for the evening, you say goodbye to Mina, who’s just waiting up for your other coworkers who’ll cover the next shift. Haewon talks your ear off about what happened in the event she attended as you both walked back to your apartment and, while only some of the things she’s saying makes sense to you, it’s nice to be in your little sister’s company again. 
“Oh, by the way, here.”
You stare at her curiously as she rummages through her bag, handing you a photocard enclosed in a dainty-looking toploader. 
“What’s this for?” you ask. 
“You told me back then that Wonwoo was your type,” Haewon explains with a grin. “So I did my best in one of the parlor games and won that extremely in-demand photocard just for you.”
You scan the piece of idol merchandise in your hands for a few minutes more—staring at Wonwoo’s face as if waiting for him to speak. You never really understood the appeal of collecting photocards. As long as it makes Haewon happy, you won’t bat an eyelash.
But now she’s giving you one to keep for yourself and the more you stare at the idol printed on the sturdy paper, the more you think that you’ve seen him somewhere.
Then again, Haewon has been talking about these boys since they debuted years ago. The familiarity must’ve stemmed from those numerous fancams and music show performances that she forced you to sit down and watch with her. 
“You better take care of him, okay?” Haewon pouts. “If I see him suddenly being sold for a high price, I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“I barely know how the market for this works, so you don’t have to worry about that,” you chuckle before carefully sliding the toploader inside your own bag. “So what ramen are we eating? Shin Ramyun or something else?”
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Me [21:17]: btw, when are you coming back again? 
Me [21:20]: someone was asking about hani earlier and i feel like you’ve gotta come back here to assert your dominance.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: Shit, sorry. I forgot about the time.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: My friends and I had a birthday celebration at the izakaya near our hotel. It’s been a while since we got to unwind like this.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Anyway, who’s the funny guy who thought he could have my cat?
Me [02:38]: wow. YOUR cat? 🤨🤨🤨
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:40]: You’re still awake?
Me [02:40]: yeah, my little sister is in seoul and we’re binging our favorite drama
Me [02:41]: how about you? why are You still awake?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:45]: Taking care of drunk friends. Remember Soonyoung?
Me [02:45]: what about him?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Pleading for forgiveness in the toilet while he retches his guts out.
Me [02:47]: huh. some birthday party. who’s the celebrant anyway?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Me.
“Whoa. You okay?” Haewon asks when you suddenly lurch forward on the couch, choking on the ramen you were in the middle of slurping. 
You thank your sister when she offers you a glass of water and you gulp it down to soothe the burning sensation in your throat. “It’s fine. I just received a surprising text is all.”
“From a boyfriend?” she teases.
You scowl. “No. From a friend. Just a friend.”
“Boo. But you’ll tell me once you land yourself your very own Hong Dusik, right?”
The look on your face only worsens at the reference she’s made to the drama that’s still playing on screen. “I’d actually rather die than have someone like Dusik as a boyfriend. If the whole enemies to lovers thing works with Hyejin, it really won't with me.”
“True, you’ve always been a mellow lover,” Haewon agrees and you roll your eyes. “That’s why Wonwoo would be perfect for you~”
“I think me landing a Hong Dusik-esque boyfriend is more likely than me getting together with a world famous idol but okay.”
You’re momentarily distracted from your conversation when your phone vibrates in your lap again, and— Fuck. 
You forgot to reply to Woo.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Fell asleep on me already?
Me [02:56]: no, no. sorry. my sister was just talking to me. 
Me [02:56]: anyway, it’s your BIRTHDAY?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:57]: Hahaha, yes. It’s been a while since I could sit down and actually celebrate it with my friends. 
Me [02:58]: is that why you went all the way to japan? for a little birthday getaway?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:58]: Hm… something like that 
Me [03:00]: i’ll give you hani’s adoption papers as a gift
Me [03:01]: that or you let ME treat YOU to something nice for a change
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: Well, I’ll be back in Korea this Saturday, but won’t be free until late at night.
Me [03:05]: back to regular programming, huh?
Me [03:06]: we can celebrate later if you’re busy, you know. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:07]: It’s okay. I wanted to spend time with you anyways.
“You sure that’s just a friend you’re talking to?” Haewon asks with an unimpressed stare as you choke on your instant noodles for the second time. “The only way I’d react like that to a text is if my friend told me one of our professors is fucking his TA despite being married. If that’s the case, you gotta let me in on the juicy details.”
You make a face at her. “Isn’t that way too specific?”
“Isn’t that way too specific?” Haewon mocks. “Whatever you’ve got going on with this friend of yours, promise I’ll be the first to know once you make it official?”
“Haewon!”
For the sake of your own sanity, you only reply to Woo’s message once you’re tucked in bed and Haewon is comfortably dozing on the couch in the living room. She’s a heavy sleeper that passes out quickly after a long day, so you don’t feel particularly worried about your little sister barging into your room when you type out a response.
Me [03:43]: gotcha. just meet me at the shelter after your thing. 
Me [03:45]: happy birthday, woo.
You don’t wait for him to type out a reply anymore—eyes drooping into slumber as you let the screen of your phone fade into sleep mode. 
Unbeknownst to you, a man who just finished putting his intoxicated friends to bed an ocean away stares at your chat history with a fond smile, heart racing just a few beats faster at the prospect of what awaits him at home.
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You’re just about done cleaning up the big dog kennels when Woo drops by on a bright Saturday morning. 
The sound of his deep ‘hello’ nearly made you drop all the cleaning utensils you were about to put away. When you turn around to confirm that the shelter’s nighttime regular has indeed switched things up and decided to visit during daylight hours, you’re too busy scowling at him to mind the fact that you’re all gross and sweaty from all the hard labor. 
Sure, you texted him about taking up a day shift today, but you definitely didn’t expect him to visit when he just got back to Korea a few hours ago. 
Surprisingly, Woo isn’t donned in all black this time around. He’s wearing a gray pullover with some muddled text you can’t quite read with the hood pulled all the way up, concealing the white cap resting on top of his head. Of course, his signature face mask is still in between you and his no doubt handsome countenance, but you’ll take what you can get.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, a bit breathless before you notice that takeout bag he’s setting down on one of the empty tables. “I thought you’re not gonna be free until tonight.”
“Thought you could use another lunch fix,” he says nonchalantly. “Well that and I wanted to personally give you some cool trinkets from Japan.”
The sentiment makes your heart stir a little, but you end up voicing out a dry laugh before stuffing the shelter’s cleaning paraphernalia inside the broom closet. “Keep doing all these nice things and I’ll start thinking you’re in love with me.”
Woo laughs but does absolutely nothing to deny the allegations.
“Here.” Your brows arch a little when he fishes something from the pocket of his hoodie, handing it to you. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d like so I just got all of them.”
You’re a bit reluctant to receive his gift in your current state—dirty hands, dirty clothes, dirty everything—but Woo doesn’t seem to mind when he drops a small plastic package full of…
“Kitties!” You coo out loud at the assortment of colorful enamel pins inside before gawking at him. “Seriously, Woo, you’re way too nice to me. I’m starting to feel indebted.”
He shakes his head with an adorable laugh. “It’s nothing. I swear. They just reminded me of you when my friends and I passed this one booth at a festival.”
Shit. They reminded him of you?
“So are you finally going to sit down and talk to me about adopting Hani or are you gonna keep skirting around again, mister?” You place a hand on your hip, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction as you tuck his gift safely in the back pocket of your jeans.
“Surprise, I actually came here to do just that. I still have an hour free before I have to go to work,” Woo admits and him mentioning work taps in on your innate curiosity about what he does for a living. “But your coworker said something about rounding up the dogs and putting them back in the kennel?”
Oh. Shit. 
As if on cue, Mina—along with a few on shift volunteers—emerge down the hall, all of their hands gripping several leashes as an army of dogs fills the hallway with excited and agitated barking alike. 
“Are we good to go?” Mina yells over the noise.
Trying not to look too disappointed that your time with Woo has been cut short, you give Mina a thumbs up before striding off to meet them halfway. You take it upon yourself to take a few of the dogs off one of the volunteers’ hands and he looks at you with withering relief when you do. 
“Yep. Everything’s as fresh as a daisy now,” you inform them. “Hope these guys didn’t make too big of a mess up in the front though. That would mean Kino’s turn for cleaning duty came a little early.”
“Hey!” The volunteer in question complains. “I’ve got a date later, noona. Don’t go saying weird stuff like that.”
You’re just about to tease him a little more but you suddenly feel the force of a couple of former strays tugging you forward disappear. That’s when you notice that Woo made his way to your side, guiding the dogs silently as he helps lead the first of them to the kennel.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insist but your friend(?) merely shakes his head. 
“It’s no big deal,” Woo reassures.
It doesn’t help that this particular hallway is a little cramped. You’re practically standing arm to arm as you all make it to the end. You can practically smell the expensive cologne wafting from his clothes amidst the scent of dog fur that’s starting to permeate the air. When Woo lets out another soft laugh when one of the dogs he has on a leash licks his hand, you know it’s over for you.
It takes about half an hour to settle all fifteen big dogs into their respective cages and by the time it’s over, you’re convinced that you need a shower now more than ever. As Mina and the rest of the volunteers head back to the reception room, you decide to take a break and help yourself to the takeout that Woo personally delivered yet again.
“Thanks for your help. Cleaning day is really one of the toughest days of the month. Especially when we have to clean up the big dog kennels,” you sigh before plopping into an empty seat in the break room. 
“Don’t mention it,” he says and you find yourself imagining a smile behind his mask yet again. “I actually have a dog at home, too, so I would now. But she’s definitely more tame than these guys.”
That makes you pause. “Is that why you’re beating around the bush so much about adopting Hani? You think she won’t get along with your dog?”
He hums a little before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s one of the reasons, yes.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try,” you huff as you unseal the takeout package—the delectable scent of yangnyeom chicken pervading your senses. “Anyway, you’re going to sign the papers this time, right? Right?”
You have a feeling that you’ve finally got him cornered, but before Woo can even formulate a response, a ringtone that definitely isn’t yours starts going off inside the break room. 
Your friend(????) answers it with a wistful sigh. 
It’s so quiet that you can vaguely make out the voice at the other end of the line saying, “Hyung. Everyone’s looking for you. Where are you?”
You try not to stare at Woo as he takes the call out of pure decency—distracting yourself with your food. But you can’t help but listen in when their conversation is the only thing you can hear at the moment. 
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Tell everyone I’m sorry for the hold up, Mingyu.” 
The moment that name leaves Woo’s mouth, you freeze mid-chew. Did he say Mingyu? Like…the idol that Haewon is downright obsessed with? No… It was probably just someone with the same name. It is pretty common, after all.
When he ends the call, you flash him a tight-lipped smile that manages to conceal your momentary surprise. “Rain check?”
“Rain check,” Woo sighs in agreement. 
You nod. “It’s okay. The more you keep delaying Hani’s adoption, the more presents I get from you.”
“And you’re absolutely right about that,” he humors you before reaching out to ruffle your hair. You haven’t even recovered from that little gesture he just did when he asks, “Hope our plans for later are still up though?”
Woo must’ve caught the look on your face with the way he retracts the hand that was just on top of your head to snicker into his palm. “Don’t tell me you forgot. We were supposed to celebrate my birthday, remember?”
Curse you and your habit of making plans at ass o’clock in the morning. You always forget them!
“Uh, it kinda slipped my mind?” you admit sheepishly as you pick at your food. “I ended up going for a day shift ‘cause I have to see my sister off at the airport tomorrow.” 
He nods in earnest and it kind of makes you feel bad about your short term memory. “It’s alright. I’ll just drop by some other time to get the paperwork over with. I’ve disturbed you enough as it is.”
“No, it’s fine!”
Your sudden outburst makes Woo look up at you with a confused stare. “Hm?”
“I-I can still meet up with you later,” you stammer and you have to force yourself not to bury your face in your hands out of sheer embarrassment. Pull yourself together, damn. “If you’re not too tired from your plans for the day, of course.”
He mentioned something about having to go to work, and while you can’t imagine what sort of work has to be urgently done on a Saturday, you’ll still respect his time. 
Woo blinks for a few seconds, as if still digesting what you just said before his eyes disappear behind his glasses with a soft chuckle. Your brows cinch together, not getting what’s so funny. 
“Noted. I’ll come pick you up here later, still? If you’re not comfortable with sharing your address with me yet.” 
He’s so thoughtful, you might actually give him all your personal details at this point. But at the end of the day you’re actually a person with a head full of common sense, so you answer him with, “Sure thing. Thanks for going out of your way to come hang out despite how busy you are.”
“No, thank you for always putting up with me,” Woo insists with a shake of his head. “I swear I’m not hassling you with this whole adoption thing on purpose. There’s just…a lot of things to consider on my end. I hope you understand.”
You wave away his concerns with a laugh. “Just keep getting me more of this chicken and we’ll call it quits.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
When Woo sees himself out of the break room, you fumble for the plastic package in the back of your jeans—taking one of the adorable black cat enamels before pinning it in the front pocket of your uniform. You can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see your reflection on the small mirror sitting on the table. 
How could you be this down bad for someone whose entire face you’ve never even seen before? 
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Haewon 🪷 [17:20]: Are you suuure you don’t wanna come to the fan meet?
Haewon 🪷 [17:21]: I’ve still got a few extra passes :3c you’d get to see wonwoo in the flesh!
Me  [17:30]: why do you want to set me up with wonwoo so badly 
Haewon 🪷 [17:31]: Bc we’re sisters? And it’d be cool if we stanned MinWon together?
Me  [17:32]: …not even gonna ask you to elaborate on that
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Haewon 🪷 [18:00]: Unnie ㅠㅠ
Me [18:00]: why? what’s wrong, hae?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:05]: Mingyu looks sooooo much better than I remember
Haewon 🪷[18:06]: The girlfriend allegations must be true
Haewon 🪷 [18:06]: Only a man in love can smile like that!
Me [18:07]: or: a man who relies on fanservice to get paid?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:08]: RUDE!!!!
Haewon 🪷 [18:08]: Here’s a pic of Wonwoo to shut you up
Haewon 🪷 [18:09]: [Sent an attachment]
Me [18:10]: idk if i should find the fact that you think some kpop guy affects me in any capacity amusing or concerning
Haewon 🪷 [18:11]: !!!! Take that back wtf?? Wonwoo isn’t just ‘some kpop guy’?????
Me [18:10]: sure he isn’t.
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Haewon 🪷 [19:45]: Good news!!
Me [19:45]: you’re finally going to get off my back about the whole wonwoo thing?
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: No ^_^ My Monday final got canceled so I can stay in Seoul for a day more!
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: Aka you don’t have to wake up early to drag your ass to the airport w me
Me [19:47]: oh. that’s cool. what’re your plans for tomorrow then?
Haewon 🪷 [19:48]: Gonna attend the pre-recording for a music show :3
Me [19:50]: …Haewon i swear to god if you ask me to do what you’re about to ask me to do
Haewon 🪷 [19:50]: Come with me pretty pleaaaase?
Haewon 🪷 [19:51]: I’m using my adorable dongsaeng powers to get you to agree
Me [19:55]: there’s no talking my way out of this, is there?
Haewon 🪷 [19:55]: Nope <3
Me [19:56]: fine. just text me the details. i need to go out soon. 
Haewon 🪷 [19:56]: HEHE have fun !!
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You weren’t lying when you texted Haewon that you had to go out soon. You agreed that you’d meet up with Woo for his post-birthday celebration at 9 P.M. Hell, you even called a local bakery to have a personalized cake made for pick-up before you head over to the rendezvous point. Everything was already set right from the start.
But then you ended up falling asleep while scrolling through Twitter and now the clock reads 10:45 P.M., and you’re rushing to pull on a ratty sweater instead of the cute outfit you planned for the night as you rush out of your apartment.
Me [10:47]: FUCK IM SORRY
Me [10:47]: i was SUPPOSED to take a five minute nap but i didn’t realize how tired i was
Me [10:48]: are you still up to hang out? i totally get it if not though.
You immediately stuff your phone in the pocket of your jeans—not even bothering to glance at Woo’s reply when it vibrates with a text notification. Your conscience is much too guild-ridden to read any sort of reassurance he’d undoubtedly give to you despite how long you’ve made him wait. 
Two hours, jeez. You’d be furious if someone was that late on you.
When you arrive at the shelter after doing a couple of quick detours, you’re panting like you just won first place in a marathon. Needless to say, it’s a pitiful sight to behold when Woo is leaning across his motorcycle—looking much too attractive in that stupid leather jacket of his. 
“Is this what the kids call fashionably late these days?” he chuckles.
If you weren’t so apologetic, you would’ve rolled your eyes so instead, you give him a crumpled paper bag with a smile that borders on overcompensating.
“Happy birthday?”
Woo looks like he was just about to say something until a quiet mewl interrupts him midway. You gaze at him with a puzzled look until he stifles a soft laugh, pulling the lapel of his jacket open to reveal—
“Hani?” You scowl.
The black kitten is tucked away snugly in the inner pocket of Woo’s jacket—nearly blending in with the leather. It’s almost as if two pairs of big yellow eyes are staring at you from a void. 
“Finally got the papers over with when you fell asleep on me,” Woo chuckles before scratching behind her ears. “So I guess it wasn’t so bad that you made me wait for two hours.” 
“Hey, I said I was sorry!”
“Yes, and I heard you,” he insists before peering inside the paper bag you gave him. “What’s this?”
“No peeking until we get to your good old thinking spot,” you scold, smacking his hand away. 
A hand that you just noticed is also clad in a leather glove. 
He shakes his head playfully before putting his arms up in surrender. “For someone who’s two hours late, you’re pretty demanding.”
“Woo!”
During his last few days in Japan, Woo told you about his favorite thinking spot that’s specifically located beneath Hannam Bridge. There’s an old watchtower that was built before the bridge even existed. I go there when I want to clear my head. 
When he said he wanted to bring you there for his belated birthday bash, the ghastly possibility of him turning out to be a serial killer luring you to your doom crossed your mind for half a second before you ended up agreeing anyway.
Now here you are, drowning in the musk of his cologne as you press your cheek against the fabric of his jacket. He’s definitely going past the speed limit with how sharply the wind sings in your ears, but instead of complaining about it, you tighten your arms around his torso—letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. 
“It’s not so scary if you don’t think about it too much,” you hear him shout from the front. “Look to your right! This is why I’ve always liked doing late night rides!”
Easy for him to say. He’s brave enough to harbor a kitten inside his jacket and a person who’s never ridden a motorcycle before at a hundred kilometers per hour! But despite how terrified you are of falling off his bike, you do as he says anyways.
When you tilt your gaze in the direction of the Han River, you’re immediately greeted by the dazzling lights that glimmer across the water. You haven’t been to the districts on the other side of the river, but you think you’re content with getting to see them from afar.
With the roar of an engine ringing in your ears. With the summer evening breeze whipping past your face.
With your arms around someone who’s slowly but surely leaving his mark in your life. 
“Are you sure this is legal?”
Your companion glances behind him as he makes his way to the aforementioned watch tower—a knapsack full of god-knows-what slung around his shoulder while he carries the paper bag with your “gift” in his free hand. “I’ve never seen a single ‘No Trespassing' sign since I’ve started going here ages ago, so probably.”
“Probably?” you parrot and Hani, who you’ve deigned to carry in your arms after that grueling motorcycle ride, meows as if she’s just as incredulous as you are. “So it’s still possible for us to get arrested?”
“Yeah, but what’s life without a little risk?” 
Unbelievable.
Yet, despite the common sense you were oh-so proud of this morning, you still follow him up the winding steps of the watchtower, which is hardly even a watchtower given that it’s a few meters beneath the widest bridge in the city. Woo wasn’t lying about his strange description of it after all.
“Well, here we are,” he announces when the two of you reach the platform on the very top. The edges are lined with metal rails that are beginning to rust with age, but seem sturdy enough to grant you some sense of security—no matter how sparse. “I’ll just set this up. You can go enjoy the view if you want.”
Woo doesn’t even let you get a word in before he unzips his bag and brings out a checkered picnic blanket. He gently lays it across the dusty concrete, smoothing out the fabric before fishing some more stuff inside his gym-bag-turned-picnic-basket. You keep yourself from making any snide comments about his choice of venue because despite the unorthodox location, you actually get why he’d find it peaceful here.
It’s far enough from the freeway that the sound of vehicles rushing through the night can barely reach your ears. If you listen closely enough, you can even hear the water flowing below much more clearly. You close your eyes to get a better feel of the place—imagining a six-foot something guy leaning across the rusty railings as he watches the city lights sparkle across the Han River.
“There we go.” 
You startle when you feel Woo’s warm, leather-clad hand on your shoulder—prompting you to turn around and see his handiwork. In the middle of the picnic blanket is something that looks suspiciously like a portable emergency light. How he got his hands on something like that, you’re not entirely sure, so you decide to focus on the other details instead. 
Like the two unopened bottles of soju right next to a take-out package of your favorite yangnyeom chicken. 
“Didn’t we agree that I was treating you to something this time around?” you grumble as you absentmindedly stroke Hani’s fur. 
“We did, but then you overslept and—”
“Okay, fine! Point taken!”
Woo snickers as he hands you the paper bag you brought for the trip. It looks even worse than it was when you ran all the way to the shelter and you can only hope the package inside isn’t completely ruined. 
You decide to let Hani down inside the gym bag that Woo left unzipped. Surprisingly, the newly adopted kitten makes a home out of it quickly—curling up into a ball as her tail swishes every now and again. Cute.
“Don’t judge, okay?” You breathe out nervously as you take the plastic container out of the bag. “I had a legit cake custom-made and everything but…yeah. Overslept.”
When Woo doesn’t respond a second too long, your gaze nervously rivets to his face to parse for a reaction. Was he disappointed? Should you have gotten a different design?
The moment you see the dazzled look in his eyes, however, you realize that isn’t the case.
He receives the little cupcake with open arms when you give it to him. It’s chocolate topped with bad fondant icing art, but you didn’t really have a choice. When you spotted it in the convenience store earlier, you grabbed the one that looked most like a kitten and dipped. It’s nice to know that he might actually like it after all.
“Oh and uh, sorry, but I couldn’t bring any candles for you to blow,” you add sheepishly. “You can just make a wish and pretend.” 
Woo’s gaze drifts to you for a moment before his eyes crinkle with laughter. “I don’t really have to do that though. My wish has already come true.”
Huh?
To your chagrin, he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, Woo invites you to sit on the picnic blanket—carefully removing his boots so he wouldn’t track dirt all over the food and you follow suit. 
You fill the silence with your goings-on for the rest of the day and how exactly you ended up dozing off and he’s kind enough to listen to every word. However, when you ask if he wants to do a toast, he shakes his head.
“I need to drive you back, remember?” 
You shoot him a dirty look. “So you took me all the way out here just so I can have two bottles of soju all to myself while you sit there and listen to me talk about my day?”
“...Yes?”
Men are so fucking infuriating sometimes, you can hardly believe it.
“Nope.” You firmly shake your head—plucking the bottle opener he set down on the blanket to pop the caps off. “You’re drinking with me. Just quit driving past the speed limit so we won’t die in a freak accident.” 
You immediately notice the stiffness in his shoulders as you shove the bottle of soju in his hands and part of you feels kind of bad for being pushy. For a moment, you allow yourself to scrutinize him for a bit longer. What could possibly be deterring him from drinking after going out of his way to do all this? 
That’s when you realize he still has his mask on.
Does he…have issues about people seeing his face?
That would definitely explain why he hasn’t once taken it off in all the times you’ve met him so far. With that in mind, you promptly decide to tell him that okay, he doesn’t have to if he really doesn’t want to, but then Woo is already reaching up to peel the blasted face mask off. 
Your chest seizes with panic, hands flying in front of you to keep him from doing something against his will. But the effort is futile because it only takes a second for him to remove and… 
Fuck.
Cue the choir of angels because goddamn does this man look like heaven.
Woo shifts somewhat uncomfortably under your stare, as if he’s waiting for you to blow up all over his face or something. But you’re much too mesmerized by too many things to form any sort of response right away. 
The sharp cut of his jaw. The gentle curve of his Cupid’s bow. The tinge of red spreading across his cheeks.
“I can’t believe you’ve been gatekeeping yourself from me all this time,” you whisper with a strained laugh—purposely peeling your gaze away for the sake of your own sanity. “I knew you were hot, but…God. I hate you.”
“You…don’t recognize me?” 
The question brings you out of your feelings for a moment, making you glance at him with a questioning stare. “Am I supposed to?”
Woo gapes at the question like he didn’t expect that to be your response before shaking his head vigorously. 
“N-No. Anyway, you said I was hot but you hate me?”
You narrow your eyes at him before taking your first swig of soju. “Don’t start getting all cocky with me, mister! I’ve got eyes and I can’t help that you’re objectively attractive. Just stating facts here.”
When Woo smiles for the first time without the figurative cockblock that is his signature black face mask and honestly? If you died right now, you’d die happily. 
The night presses on in a haze of soju, spicy chicken, and the occasional visit from Hani who uses either of your laps as her personal bed for about five minutes before switching to the other person. 
This is the longest you’ve been with Woo and you’re starting to realize that he isn’t much of a talker, which you completely understand. You can’t imagine someone who’s hell-bent on keeping what he looks like a secret for so long being a chatterbox.
“Oh, but you mentioned something to me at the shelter one time,” you pipe up before scooping a forkful of chicken into your mouth. 
“Yeah? What is it?” Woo asks softly as he pets Hani’s back. 
Feeling just a little bit tipsy from the alcohol, you try not to stare too hard at his handsome face or the way his lip curls at the edges with a tiny smile when Hani purrs from his touch.
“You said Hani reminded you of yourself from before,” you whisper as your gaze drifts to his leather-gloved hands. “Is it okay to ask what you meant by that?”
The sound of the river flowing beneath the watchtower fills your ears as you bask in the silence. It’s a pretty personal question. You’d totally get it if he decides not to answer, but you’re much too curious to keep yourself from asking. 
“Well, I wasn’t a stray or anything, but there was a time in my life that I felt so…aimless. I lost someone near and dear to me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it for a very long time.”
Hearing the earnest ring of Woo’s voice, you force yourself to snap out of your subtle inebriation—scooting a little bit closer to him on the blanket to make sure you catch every word. 
“I didn’t get into a life-threatening accident like this one did either, but…” He trails off for a moment, stroking the scar that you know runs along Hani’s sternum but has long healed with his fingers. 
“I managed to get back on track when the people around me showed me their support. They didn’t leave even if all I wanted was to be left alone. If it weren’t for them, it might’ve taken me even longer to move past what happened. Worse, I might not have moved past it at all.
“When I saw Hani that day, she looked scared of all the other cats. Like she wasn’t ready to let anyone get close to her just yet.” Woo breathes deeply before taking a small sip from his bottle. “I guess I was the same way, too. Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes, when I think I’m all better, one day, I just spiral back to where I started in the next one. That’s…kind of where you fit into the picture, actually.”
The brief pause in his story makes you blink at him, surprised. “Me?”
He nods. “You used to feed the strays in your neighborhood, right? You even had a schedule and everything.”
“That was months ago,” you mutter. “You mean you already knew me back then? Because of that?”
“I…actually live in that area, too.” He clears his throat, that familiar blush settling across his cheeks once again. “I often saw you feeding the strays because that’s usually the time I got back from the cemetery. One day, things got a bit too much and I kind of…broke down in the park instead of just doing that at home.”
He says it like he’s embarrassed and now that he mentioned it, you vaguely remember consoling a stranger during your days before volunteering at the shelter. You don’t recall much of it though—just the memory of awkwardly patting his back before sending him off feeling just a bit better because you saw him smile a little.
Other than that, you’re drawing blanks.
“How exactly did I help you, though? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
“I wouldn’t say you helped me or anything, but…” Woo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose while slyly avoiding your eyes. “I distinctly remember you saying something like—”
Hey, it’s just a bad day. Or a bad week. Or a bad month. I don’t know. But it’s not a bad life. It’ll get better soon. I promise.
Fuck. Maybe you do remember.
“It didn’t really mean much to me at the time. Honestly, it kind of pissed me off at first,” Woo admits with a guilty chuckle before taking another sip. “But you were right. Sometimes, things got worse. Other times, it got better. But one day, I realized that I got to a point where it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
“I’m not usually this open about my problems, but I learned overtime that talking about them makes them less taxing to deal with. Almost like I’m just talking about the weather, you know?” He smiles softly and you swear your heart melts at the sight of it. “And…I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.” 
“Now you’re here spilling your guts out to some random college senior,” you snicker before taking another swig of your soju. You pout when you realize the bottle’s all empty before placing it back on the picnic blanket. “That’s some character development.”
“It really is.”
The silence sets once more and your eyes wander off to the city so close yet so far away. The lights from the skyscrapers glimmer like stars across the calm waters of the Han River and you like to think it compensates for the fact that the sky is blocked out by the bridge stretched far and wide above you. 
This isn’t how you imagined your first stargazing date would be like, but it’s a good start.
Although, the moment the idea crosses your mind, you’re quick to jolt at your own thoughts. 
This isn’t a date. You’re just celebrating his birthday together. Alone. On a picnic blanket. With one of the loveliest sceneries you’ve laid your eyes on. In a place where he claims that he never once showed to anyone else. 
“Hey, is this—”
Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn to look at Woo—only to find his face mere inches from yours. 
“What?” he whispers and despite the fact that you’re wearing a sweater, you feel goosebumps rise across the skin of your shoulders. 
“Uh.” Fuck. “Is this a date?”
His mouth curves into a smile that you can’t quite get a read on. “It can be what you want it to be.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, suddenly feeling hot all over as his eyes flicker to your lips. “Just so you know, I don’t kiss on the first date.”
When Woo laughs again, it’s a deep-seated noise that makes your insides tingle with an indescribable feeling. You don’t really want to give it a name.
“Okay,” he repeats before pressing his forehead against yours. “We can have our first date next time then.”
Of course the sly fucker dives in for a kiss anyway.
“H-Hey,” you whisper in between, trying not to get too distracted with how plump his lips are as you keep holding him still by his broad shoulders. “You’re going to end up crushing Hani if you d-don’t cut it out!”
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away regretfully. For a moment, he stares at the sleepy kitten on his lap, gazing around cluelessly after being roused from slumber. His expression softens for a moment as he scoops her up with both hands, settling her down in the comfort of his gym bag. She lets out a satisfied mewl before curling into a ball once more.
“Better?” 
You’re not sure if he’s asking you or the cat, but…
“Better,” you whisper before fisting the lapels of his jacket and crushing your lips with his.
You don’t know where you’re pulling all this pent-up frustration from. During the very brief period that you’ve gotten closer to Woo, your general opinion about him never really deviated from he’s cute and he’s hot. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet here you are, gasping into his mouth as he flattens his tongue against yours. A strong arm hooks around your waist, pressing your bodies infinitesimally closer and your skin is slowly hitting a fever pitch beneath your clothes. Something wild and all-consuming burns in your veins and you channel it into a moan that makes his grip on you grow tighter. 
You don’t know how exactly you wound up on top of his lap—knees planted on either side of his hips as he continues devouring you with no intention of leaving anything behind. You can feel the expensive material of his leather gloves when his fingers graze along the hem of your sweater. Your skin tingles like every nerve ending has been set alight and if you weren’t already rendered dizzy by his intoxicating cologne, you’re in for a ride with each second his touch hikes further up your torso.
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away momentarily—eyes aflame before he removes his fogged up glasses with one hand, tossing them somewhat carelessly on the picnic blanket. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Why was that so hot?
You’re too stunned to even draw a breath as he stares you down without the constant partition of his glasses. Has his gaze always been this sharp? Have those eyes always been transfixed on you?
“This…This wasn’t part of the plan, if you’re wondering.” Woo croons out the words huskily. Like an afterthought he only considered out of concern for you. Cute. “I swear I didn’t have any ulterior motives when—”
You giggle, before pressing a kiss on his nose. Woo’s eyes widen just a fraction.
“What made you cave then?” 
The way his Adam’s apple bobs has no right to be that alluring, but it pulls you in anyway. “You looked really cute tonight.”
“Is that all?”
“Um, I thought it was sweet that you still got me a cupcake after you overslept?”
You groan, forehead bumping into the crook of his neck. Jesus Christ, he smells so fucking good. “How long are you going to hold that over my head for?”
You feel the vibrations of his laughter humming against your connected chests and your heart swells as Woo wraps his arms around your frame—pulling you into a firm embrace as the heat that engulfed the both of you slowly simmered into the cool evening air. You can feel him tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades and the small of your back, and it does nothing to keep you from melting into his touch.
It’s so strange how easily you gave into him. You’ve formally known Woo for about three months and became legitimate friends(?) for less than three weeks. If you told Haewon about this whirlwind romance of yours, she’d hit you upside the head and tell you you’re being way too hasty for a man. 
But if it’s a man with a black kitten taking a nap in his gym bag while he kisses you senseless underneath one of Seoul’s busiest freeways, you suppose you can make an exception.
“We should go,” Woo murmurs softly. “You’ve still got to accompany your sister to the airport right?”
“Mmm. Nope. She’s staying a day longer,” you inform him with the same quiet tone, letting your fingers trail up to his hair so you can toy with the strands in your fingertips. “But I do have some more edits to get over with in my final manuscript, so…yeah. We should go.”
Despite wanting nothing but to stay there in Woo’s little safe haven, the two of you manage to miraculously peel yourselves away from each other. Your face is hot the entire time you helped clean up his little picnic setup. When he shuts off the portable emergency light, you squint as you parse your way through the darkness. 
You kind of end up tripping on air like a complete idiot, but before you can tumble off the rails and into the river, Woo catches you by the waist—not so different from how he held you ten minutes prior.
“Careful,” he mutters as he lets you go and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch again. “I don’t want to be accused of being a murderer.”
You snicker as he gently scoops Hani out of the gym bag and back into the spacious compartment in the lapel of his leather jacket. For a sleepy kitten, she’s surprisingly compliant. “I actually thought all this time you were some sort of serial killer trying to lure me to my doom.”
“You thought that but you came with me anyway?”
“Why not? You’re hot.”
That night, you let Woo drive you back home now that he’s more or less beaten the serial killer allegations. You tell him that he doesn’t have to walk you to your apartment, but he insists—saying that he can afford to leave Hani on his bike for a few minutes. 
Of course, it ends up with another heated makeout session against your front door. This time, those stupid leather-clad fingers hike high enough on your back to toy with the clasp of your bra while his other hand remains tangled in your hair to pull you impossibly closer.
“I have to go,” he rasps before swiping his tongue along his bottom lip—giving you a sudden itch to sink your teeth into it. “But you’re making it really hard to leave.” 
He’s making it really hard to tell him to go home, too, but as much as you want to kiss the night away, you still have some of your wits about you.
You chuckle as you reluctantly extract his wandering hands away from your body. Woo sighs in surrender with a nearly inaudible laugh.
“You already bent my I don’t kiss on the first date rule, genius,” you remind him breathlessly. “Don’t push your luck just yet until we’ve had that so-called first date next time.” 
He grins. “So there’s going to be a next time?”
Deciding to keep him on his toes, you bat your eyelashes coquettishly at him. “Only if you want to.”
Woo leans in to press his lips against the corner of your mouth—trying his best to suppress the grin on his face. 
“I’ll hold you to it then.”
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Despite having lived in Seoul for four years and having a hardcore fangirl for a sister, today’s the first time you’ll be attending the pre-recording session for a music show. 
Needless to say, you feel like an outsider amongst the fans armed with all sorts of idol merchandise and dressed in the prettiest outfits. Haewon managed to mooch a lightstick off one of her friends for you to use, but despite the fact that you know not a single soul would give two shits about you here, the alienating sensation remains. 
“Hey, don’t be too nervous,” your little sister chortles as the marshals usher the crowd into the studio. “All you gotta do is wave that lightstick to the beat. You’ll blend right in, I promise.”
You crack her a nervous smile. Oh, the things you do to make Haewon happy.
It’s a little bit of a blur from there. You squeeze past the throng of fans while simultaneously trying not to lose your sister in the crowd. Some of the staff are handing out photocards that you hear are exclusively given away at this specific broadcast and were worth hundreds of thousands of won. You’re not sure which member Haewon got for you, but knowing your little sister, she must’ve snagged one of Wonwoo’s.
When the two of you are settled in your seats, you take the time to admire the set. You never imagined idol music show stages being this massive in person. In fact, you never really spared an active thought about them. Most of the info you do know about these kinds of things are secondhand accounts from Haewon from all the times she’s been to several broadcasting studios across the city. 
“Did you bring the PC I got you last time?” she asks before taking out the broadcast ones out of their plastic package. 
You shake your head. “Sorry. That Wonwoo’s sitting in a different bag.”
“Well, at least you haven’t sold him,” your little sister laughs before handing you one of the cards in her hands. “I told the staff to give us Mingyu and Wonwoo, but they gave me Hoshi and Wonwoo. It’s okay though, ‘cause Hoshi’s my bias wrecker anyway.”
Ah. More fandom jargon that you’re just now hearing about.
Just as the staff is starting to do the final preparations on stage, you decide to check out the broadcast PC that Haewon just gave to you. When your eyes land on Wonwoo’s face, however, you suddenly feel your blood freeze in your veins. 
You…don’t recognize me?
One of the staff members announces that the boys will be out shortly to begin the pre-recording session but the words are all but muted in your ears. 
Because how the hell can you focus on anything else when the face of the man who drove you back home last night—the man who kissed you until you were lightheaded—is plastered on a photocard that could be exchanged for an entire fortune?
This can’t be right, you muse with a scowl—fishing your phone out of your bag as your trembling fingers make haste to open your messaging app. He can’t be the same guy. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning, I hope you got enough rest!
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:36]: I have a schedule later this morning so I might be MIA 
Me [09:40]: it’s cool. i just woke up actually hahaha
Me [09:40]: i also don’t mind! i’m heading out with my sister in a while too
Me [09:41]: have fun at work(?)
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:45]: Haha I will :) Have fun with your sister!
With a deep breath, you lock your phone just as the lights start to dim and the crowd cheers their hearts out. Haewon urges you to turn on your lightstick and the part of the studio that’s filled to the brim with an audience is lit up with hundreds of dazzling lights.  
You would’ve appreciated the sight if only a certain someone didn’t play you for a fucking fool.
Just as promised, the boys that your little sister has been crazy about since their debut all fill the stage gradually. Some of them greet the fans with wide grins and silly little gestures. The others are a little more reserved with their greetings—all shy smiles and reserved movements.
Like Wonwoo, for example.
After several years of only knowing Mingyu thanks to Haewon, this is the first time you were able to pick out another one of them on stage with ease. Why wouldn’t you be able to recognize him? 
He had you pressed up against your front door only a few hours ago.
It all made sense now. The affinity for keeping a face mask on. The late night visits. The fact that he seems to make an exorbitant amount of money from a job he doesn’t want to disclose.
Woo is Wonwoo from SEVENTEEN. 
And he somehow forgot to let you know over the course of your time together. 
You try to keep down the frustration that burns in your throat, making you feel like the roof of your mouth is stuffed with cotton. It’s much easier to mask your feelings once the performers all get into position and the music starts. The loud beat blaring from the speakers coupled with the well-practiced fanchants from the audience easily overpower the sound of your hitched breathing. Even Haewon was too engrossed with the performance to notice your distress.
Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. Especially when Wonwoo’s the one who starts up the first verse of their newest song. 
He looks so…different from the gentle giant you’ve come to know over the past few weeks. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes that you know is all for show, but it makes your spine tingle at the sight of it nonetheless. The words to the song are raspily sung into the mic and if you weren’t convinced that he and Woo aren’t the same person, you most certainly are now.
After all, it’s his fucking voice that got you so down bad in the first place.
Once his part is done, Wonwoo quickly heads over to the next formation—a complete professional by heart. He belts out each dance move with such perfect precision and you wouldn’t expect any less from an idol who’s spent years honing his talents. But despite how awe-struck you are to see this side of him in person, it just wasn’t enough to completely erase the feeling that you’ve been betrayed.
It stings even more when the song ends and the studio is filled with deafening screams from the audience yet again. For once, Wonwoo’s stoic expression cracks with a handsome grin as he and the rest of his bandmates huddle together and exchange high fives. 
That person on stage is both the man you caught feelings for and a stranger at the same time. He easily smiles at the fans the same way he would smile at you, but the difference between Woo and Wonwoo is that only one of them is willing to show this part of his life to the rest of the world. 
Did he not trust you enough? Did he think you’d act like some crazy fan if he told you the truth?
You love Haewon. You love your little sister more than anything in the world, but you can’t pretend that things are okay when the man who kept you in the dark is standing right in front of you, clueless of the revelation that occurred to you just now.
“Where are you going?” Haewon calls out when you make your way out of the rows of seats—earning yourself a collection of glares from the other fans in the vicinity. “Unnie, hey!”
The last thing you want to do is ditch her for something you promised you’d see through until the end but you’re just so fucking done. You don’t want to see Wonwoo right now. Or hear him and his stupidly perfect voice through the studio’s sound system. 
Right now, you just…want to be alone.
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About two weeks after you stormed out of the first and last music show pre-recording you’ll ever attend in your life, things have more or less mellowed out. Sort of.
You’ve been taking fewer and fewer shifts at the shelter as graduation draws ever-so near. But aside from wanting to focus on getting your academic backlogs over with, you also wanted to stay away from the one place that Woo—or should you say Wonwoo—can easily find you and subsequently corner you to talk. Because you don’t want to talk to someone who’s basically been lying to your face the entire time you’ve been friends.
Well, you suppose if you really don’t want to hear even a peep out of him, you should’ve blocked his number altogether. But that’s not really the case.
Your phone buzzes while you’re in the middle of signing off adoption papers to a couple who wanted to adopt one of the shelter cats. You thought it was pretty adorable of them to make that decision since having a pet together is almost as good as having a kid together after all.
Thinking it was from your adviser, you snuck a glance towards the notifications in your homescreen. But when you see a familiar emoji plastered on the sender’s nickname, you’re quick to put it face down on the wooden desk.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning. Are you at the shelter today? Can I speak to you?
How he has it in him to keep texting you as if you haven’t given him nothing but radio silence for the past two weeks, you’re not sure. Wonwoo must’ve sensed that something was amiss the moment you stopped replying to him altogether, but he never tried to pester you about what was wrong. Instead, he simply continued sending all those messages to check in on you despite the fact that it’s almost as if he’s talking to a wall.
Well, it’s not like you have time to entertain him now anyways. 
“Are you sure she doesn’t have a name yet?” One of your clients—the boyfriend—asks as he smooths down his newly adopted Maine Coon’s fur. 
The girlfriend rolls her eyes. “You heard the nice shelter lady, Vern. This one just wouldn’t respond to any name they tried to give her.”
You agree with a half-hearted laugh, trying your best to ignore the guilt that’s perpetually swelling in your heart the longer you ignore Wonwoo’s pleas. “Yup. Our director said she’s got a bit of an attitude, but I think she just has high standards.”
Vern the Boyfriend makes a funny face at that. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t like the names she’s been given so far?”
“Mhmm. We tried Cupcake, Winter, Princess, and Lily, but she liked none of those. Try naming her something fancy. ”
“Chairman Meow?”
“Vern.” 
“What? You gotta admit it’s funny, Sohee.”
Sohee the Girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, but it’s an overused pun now! Think of something else.”
“Hmm. How about…Milana?”
“Is that because Seokmin wouldn’t shut up about his trip to Milan?”
“Ugh, yeah. Two months later and he still won’t stop talking about—”
“The gorgonzola he had for dinner the night before he flew back to Korea. I know. You won’t stop talking about it either.”
“Hey, Seokmin-hyung pays great attention to detail when it comes to food. You can’t help but want it, too.”
As you observe the friendly banter between the couple, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You don’t come across two people who complement each other as well as they do, and from the curious glint in their newly adopted cat’s eyes, you think she likes being in their company as well.
“Fine, let’s test it out first,” Sohee huffs before scratching behind the Maine Coon’s ears. “We’re going to call you Milana. Does that sound good to you?”
When the cat nuzzles her hand with a pleased meow, Sohee and Vern turn to glance at each other at the same time—two matching smiles plastered on their faces.
God. You can only wish to have what they do.
Once the rest of the documents have been finalized, you and Mina—who just got back from updating the vaccination records for all the animals in the shelter—see your most recent clients off. Vern the Boyfriend, Sohee the Girlfriend, and Milana the Child are off to the streets to start the next chapter of their lives or whatever.
When the door to the front entrance clicks shut, you let out the longest, deepest sigh known to mankind. Your coworker stifles a laugh.
“Looks like someone’s jealous,” Mina comments. 
You whine. “How could I not be jealous of that? They’re so in love, it’s sickening. They even got a kid together!” 
“You know, you could easily have that too if you just stopped avoiding—”
“Oh, look at the time!” You interrupt her a little too theatrically, stomping off to the direction of the break room. “Gotta go meet my thesis adviser. Kino and the other volunteers should show up in the next hour, though!”
You don’t catch the frustrated look on Mina’s face as you make a hasty retreat, but it doesn’t make you any less guilty about trying to skirt around the topic every chance you get. Mina’s always had your back during these past two weeks. Though you never told her why you’re avoiding your not-so-quote-unquote crush like the plague, she’d always come up with excuses and alibis to throw him off your trail. 
Which, coincidentally, happens again just as you’re changing out of your uniform.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for a sibling for Hani?” you hear Mina sigh from outside.
The person she’s talking to laughs softly. “No. I think you know why I’m here again.”
God. That fucking voice.
“Well, again, she’s not here,” your coworker bluffs. “And uh, word of advice, I get that you’re hot shit and all, but if you keep trying to bother my friend who, for some reason, doesn’t want anything to do with you, I might have to call the authorities.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.
That’s a little too different from the typical ‘oh I’m sure she’ll come around one of these days’ spiel that Mina always feeds to Wonwoo every time he visits. Sure, you’re not yet ready to face him yet after everything that’s happened, but it’s not like you want him thrown in jail—
“Uh, right. I get it,” he says awkwardly, clearing his throat in the process. “It’s just that she hasn’t spoken to me in days and I’m a little worried—”
“That’s clearly a sign for you to back off, buddy.” You can almost see Mina with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been keeping myself from saying anything about it, but I’ve always found it strange how often you visit a goddamn animal shelter. And now that she’s clearly avoiding you, you’re still trying to corner her? Are you a stalker or something?”
Fuck. This isn’t how the conversation is supposed to go! 
Mina’s job is to just politely drive Wonwoo away so you can slip out of the building without having to talk to him. But your coworker must’ve misinterpreted your persistent reluctance to meet him as genuine fear and…while you’re glad you have a friend who looks out for you like that, she’s going about all of this the wrong way!
Wonwoo doesn’t speak for a long time and your heart squeezes at the notion that he’s been called all those harsh words when all he wanted to do was talk to you. You didn’t even give him any reasons as to why you suddenly decided to cut him off. But instead of marching out there to face him and clear the air yourself…
You stay hidden in the break room like a fucking coward.
“I understand why you’d assume that, but I don’t have any ill intentions—”
“That's exactly what a guy with ill intentions would say,” Mina scoffs. “Do both of us a favor and just leave, yeah? And stop trying to contact her when she obviously wants nothing to do with you anymore.”
The silence hangs thick from outside and despite being in the break room, you swear you can almost choke on it yourself. 
You’re not sure what expression Wonwoo is wearing. Actually, you don’t even know him well enough to know those kinds of things. The most you’ve seen of his face was during that quiet night you spent together two weeks ago and you’ve severed contact with him all because of something that he probably could have explained if only you gave him the chance to.
“Okay,” he whispers so softly, you almost don’t catch it. “Thanks for your time.”
Fortunately, Mina doesn’t try to add any more fuel to the fire. All you hear is the sound of retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door clicking shut. 
It’s only when your coworker pokes her head inside the break room that you realize you’ve been holding your breath.
“He’s gone now,” she murmurs with a comforting smile. “And if he doesn’t stop bothering you even after that, I’ll raise the complaint to the director himself. I’m sure he can pull some legal strings to keep that guy out of the area for good.”
You find it kind of ironic that a few minutes ago, Mina was teasing you about him and now things have escalated into restraining order territory. But you can’t really blame her for it.
Especially when you’ve done nothing to clear up the misunderstanding.
“Right. Thanks, Mina.” You manage a thin smile, fingers absentmindedly drifting to the black cat enamel you still pinned to your uniform’s chest pocket.
“I really appreciate it.”
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Haewon 🪷 [10:30]: Unnie hiii
Haewon 🪷 [10:33]: Can you call me as soon as you read this? Xoxo
You get to check Haewon’s message three hours late because finally, finally you’ve managed to defend your thesis after innumerable sleepless nights and neverending changes to your manuscript draft. Your panelists and advisers had nothing but praises to sing about your work—even going as far as to promise that your paper will definitely be published in the next volume of the academic journal you’d been secretly hoping it’ll get selected for. 
It’s still surreal that the only thing you’ve got left on your university to-do list is to attend the commencement rites scheduled in three weeks’ time. Four grueling years have really just gone by in a flash. 
After enjoying one of your last lunch breaks in the quad with some old classmates who’ve also conquered the figurative beast that is their undergrad thesis, you excuse yourself for a while to give your little sister a ring. Haewon picks up on the second ring. 
“About time you called,” she huffs. “I thought you were sleeping in the day again.”
You shake your head with a laugh despite the fact that she can’t see the gesture. “No more sleeping in the day for me ‘cause I’m graduating.”
Haewon gasps—loud enough to create static across the line. “Really? Oh my god. That’s good news then! Mom and dad were actually getting worried about you, you know? You’ve been throwing yourself into that stupid thesis of yours for a month now.” 
It takes a while for you to formulate a response, something akin to guilt creeping into your heart at the prospect of worrying your parents sick. But then again, what’s done is done. You can catch up on the several hours of sleep and countless brain cells you’ve lost trying to make your final manuscript actually make sense.
“It’s all good now,” you reassure. “All you guys have to do now is fly over to Seoul for my graduation and I can pack my bags and go back to the countryside as soon as I can.” 
You half-expect Haewon to laugh off your haste to travel back to your hometown and say something about how you’re better off in the city than this old dump. 
But you’re met with silence instead.
“Um,” she starts nervously after a few moments. “I know most of the stuff that’s been stressing you out is gone now, but… Are you sure you’re okay?”
The question makes you swallow thickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Unnie, I’m your sister,” Haewon says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture her scowling at you. “We both know you’ve been acting really weird ever since the pre-recording. I couldn’t pester you about it ‘cause I had to go back home the next day. And I didn’t want to bother you while you were finishing up your thesis.
“So now that all those obstacles are out of the way, do you mind telling me what’s wrong?”
The sound of the other students milling around the quad rings in your ears as you process Haewon’s words. When you take a deep breath, the exhale is accompanied by defeated laughter.
You’re an idiot to think you could ever escape your little sister’s scrutiny.
“I know you’re going to give me shit if I say it’s nothing you should worry about—”
“You’re right,” she interjects. “I will give you shit.”
“—but it really is nothing you should worry about,” you continue anyway, toying with the hem of your sweater with a wistful sigh. “Long story short, it’s…boy problems. Boy problems that I’ve ignored long enough that they just went away all on their own.”
At the other line, Haewon makes a strangled noise as if that’s not the answer she was expecting. “Come again?”
“Yeah, Hae. Your big sister actually has boy problems,” you chortle. “Weird, right?”
“Yes and you didn’t even bother telling me about it at all?!” She crows angrily. “You have to give me the gist or I’m hanging up and booking the next flight to Seoul.” 
For a moment, you hesitate and give yourself a moment to think about what you can and can’t tell Haewon over a phone call when she’s a whole plane ride away from you. 
She absolutely cannot know that the boy in question is Wonwoo. You’ll probably spend more time trying to convince her that what you’re saying is true than avoiding a pity party. So instead, you tell her:
“Well, this boy and I had…something good going for us, I think. I like him, you know—really, really like him. But then one day, I found out that he’s been keeping this important thing about himself from me.” A sigh. “Like, I know some stuff is none of my business, but it’s so easy for him to let others know about that…that thing, yet somehow he never bothered to tell me. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me enough.”
Surprisingly, Haewon lets out a hum of understanding. “Yeah, that’s kind of a dick move on his part. Did you confront him about it?”
You find yourself tongue-tied for a moment—a bit embarrassed to admit to your little sister that you chose the coward’s way out of this. 
“Um, that’s the thing. I kind of ghosted him when I found out,” you tell her sheepishly. “I don’t think he knows the reason why I suddenly just dipped to this day. Haven’t spoken to him in…two months.” 
“Uh-huh. So all this time, you’ve been burying your guilt in schoolwork. Is that it?”
The straightforward tone catches you off guard for a second. “That’s not—”
“Unnie,” Haewon calls out firmly, making you close your mouth. “Again, I’m your sister. I know things about you that others don’t—things that you don’t either, probably. And trust me when I say this, but you are not the confrontational type. Don’t worry though because it’s perfectly fine to avoid the things you don’t want to deal with. Especially if you’re dealing with a person that’s more trouble than they’re worth.
“But…you said that you really, really like him. Present tense.” She pauses briefly, as if letting you digest what she’s saying a little better. “If the circumstances were even slightly different, I would’ve cheered you on for ghosting someone who hasn’t been one hundred percent honest with you because, duh? Deserved. But from the way you’ve been coping with what happened, I can’t help but think that avoiding him like this isn’t what you wanted to do at all.” 
Haewon’s words flow from the speaker and lance straight through your heart, and you start to wonder when she started sounding so reliable. You’re used to looking out for her even with the distance separating you. But ironically, it’s in your last year of college that your sister effortlessly dissected the dilemma that’s been plaguing you for weeks.
“Look, I think you’ll feel much better about all this if you just talk to him,” she continues when you don’t utter a word in response. “Not that I’m siding with some semi-lying jerk, but maybe he had his reasons for hiding…whatever he was hiding from you? If he gives you a bullshit excuse, then at least the ghosting will finally be justified, right?”
Her frankness makes you snort. “I guess.”
“Good. Now hang up and call him now.”
“...What?” 
“You heard me.”
“Haewon, I can’t just call him out of nowhere after ignoring him for so long.”
“Pfft. Of course you can! If he doesn’t answer, then that still justifies the ghosting because he obviously doesn’t want you enough. Men like that don’t deserve you, unnie.”
“...Fine. Point taken.”
You end the call after Haewon makes you swear to keep her posted about the situation and your love life in general from now on. Sighing, you reluctantly scroll through your messaging app—finding a conversation that’s long been buried by more recent texts from other people after he sent his final messages to you.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: It’s been three weeks since you last replied. Hope you’re doing okay. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Mina told me that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore but I really don’t understand why because…aren’t we good? Didn’t we have something back there? Or was I just reading you wrong the whole time?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Either way, she was right about one thing at least. I’ve probably made you uncomfortable with my texts. Kind of pathetic now that I think about it. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:01]: I’m sorry for constantly bothering you like this. It’s just that…I want to know what went wrong.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: It’s getting harder for me to sleep at night knowing I fucked up something that could’ve been the start of something nice. I was already planning our first date, you know?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:10]: Fuck. Now it just sounds like I’m gaslighting haha.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:17]: Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t even know anymore.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [04:25]: What I do know is that I miss you. So much.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:05]: Uh. Sorry about all of that. I had a few drinks and…you know how it goes.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:12]: I’ll stop texting you for real now. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:15]: I hope your studies go well. Thank you for being part of my life, no matter how short our time together was.
Fuck. 
This is going to be much more difficult than you thought.
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You don’t really blame yourself when it takes you a few days to decide whether or not you should call Wonwoo. The choice has been weighing on you like a cloud above your head and you had to decline several invites to go out from your friends because you simply cannot sit still, knowing that you have to do something about…whatever’s going on with the two of you.
Part of you insists on just leaving it as it is. Wonwoo is an idol that’s almost a decade into his career and you’re much too certain that he’s met enough people in his life to deem the loss of your company specifically a big deal. He has his members, his fans, and anything else a person could ever want.
So what if some college senior he doesn’t even know that well just ghosted him out of nowhere?
But even with that logic, you still end up holding your breath before pressing the call button one Tuesday afternoon. 
There are a total of five attempts made and all five lead you straight to voicemail—each instance making your heart grow heavier and heavier once the prerecorded message comes to an end. You secretly fear that he must’ve blocked your number altogether. Why wouldn’t he after you’ve wasted his time as much as you did?
Others would’ve considered this as a sign to just give up. The universe is basically telling you that the brief time you shared together would yield nothing more. Wonwoo has his own career to worry about and as do you, now that you’re finally going to be ejected from university and into the life of an unemployed fresh grad. You’re better off not chasing after the things you’ve purposely run away from in the first place.
So why on earth are you looking up the exact address of his company building, making the long commute for the slim chance of running into him against all odds?
The security around the area might look lax but you can spot the assortment of security guards stationed both inside and outside of the company building pretty easily. Given the nature of the business they’re running, it would make sense that they’d put up all possible countermeasures against people who might try to inconvenience their artists in any way.
Not wanting to be branded as a crazed fan, you decide to keep your distance—purposely lingering outside the shopping center just across the street as you brainstorm how exactly you’re going to meet up with Wonwoo. 
But as the minutes ticked past, your sense of reason is starting to overpower your desire to clear things up with him. For one, you don’t even know what his schedule looks like. How can you be so sure that he’ll even be there today? Worse, would Wonwoo even want to speak with you after everything? Despite having kept the fact that he’s an idol a secret to you all this time, he has all the right to refuse speaking with you when you never even gave him a chance to explain himself.
The noise of the busy district fades in the background as your eyes fall to Wonwoo’s final text message. You haven’t even thought of texting him since you considered reaching out. But with the fact that your earlier phone calls didn’t go through, you don’t think you can bear seeing your apologetic messages get denied in the very real chance that he’s blacklisted your number altogether.
God. You feel so pathetic.
“Hey, it’s you!”
You immediately blanche at the feeling of someone placing a hand on your shoulder—turning around to see who it is only to be met with the sight of two familiar faces.
“Oh,” you voice out somewhat dumbly. “Miss…Sohee? And Vern?”
The couple who adopted a cat from the shelter flashes you pretty smiles, the two of them carrying grocery bags in each arm. Sohee perks up when you recognize them. “Yup! I didn’t expect to see the nice shelter lady around these parts. What brings you here?”
“Just…stuff.” The laugh you spare them is a little too forced, but if they notice, they don’t comment on it. “How about you guys? How has Milana been?”
“Feels right at home in either of our apartments,” Vern chuckles. “You were right about her having high standards. We always end up doing our grocery shopping here instead of the supermarket near my place ‘cause Lana refuses to eat any of the cheap cat food being sold there.”
Sohee sighs in agreement. “Mhmm. You wouldn’t even think she was a rescue with how high maintenance she is, but we’re idiots that dote on her all the time. It’s just a good thing we work right across the street from here.”
Feeling endeared with how much they spoil their new child aside, the latter part of Sohee’s statement catches your attention for a moment. “Sorry? You work right across the street?”
The moment the words leave your lips, the charming smiles on their faces falter before the couple before you share a look. A brief moment of telepathic communication must’ve occurred between the both of them, as if wordlessly discussing whether they should respond, but in the end Sohee relents.
“Yeah. Vern and I work at HYBE,” she chuckles. “I’m actually surprised you don’t recognize him, since he’s—”
“A very loyal employee that the nice shelter lady can’t possibly recognize,” Vern interjects with a cough into his fist and the immediate reaction makes it easier to put two and two together.
He’s an idol. One hundred percent an idol.
Deciding to play along, you offer up a nod in understanding. “I see. Guess you guys are heading back for the day?”
“Yep. We had one of the other members—uh, I mean, one of our friends look after Milana while we had our grocery run,” Vern explains not-so-smoothly.
“As much as we’d like to stay and chat for a while longer, our baby kind of needs us,” Sohee tells you with an apologetic look. “I hope things at the shelter are running smoothly! We’ve seen how dedicated you guys are to taking care of those poor animals.”
You nod. “Of course. I’ll see you guys around?”
“Anytime!”
You and the beautiful couple exchange quaint bows in farewell before the two of them start walking away. But with each footstep that they take further and further away from you, the itch to run after them and ask what you’ve been dying to when they said they both worked at HYBE grows all the more unbearable.
Cut it out, you mentally hiss at yourself. You can’t bother other people about your issues with Wonwoo. That’s just a whole new low. 
You should’ve just gone the opposite direction when the conversation ended. You should’ve just directed yourself to the nearest bus stop back to your apartment—buried all of this in the past where it belongs.
But it’s as if your body has a mind of its own. The next thing you know, you’re sprinting towards Sohee and Vern before they could cross the next intersection—surprising the couple with your sudden re-entry.
“Did you need something?” Sohee asks, accommodating and confused all at once.
Now or never.
“Yes, actually,” you dole out breathlessly, pursing your lips before adding:
“Do you guys know where Wonwoo is?”
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Out of all the ways you thought this day could turn out, you never would’ve imagined being in the backseat of one of HYBE’s music producers—breezing through the city’s freeway as she interrogates you about just how exactly you know Jeon Wonwoo.
“So you’re the reason he’s being so off lately,” Sohee chuckles before switching lanes. “Wonwoo’s always been the quiet type, but sometimes you can just tell when there’s a lot on his mind. Isn’t that right, Vernon?”
Vernon, who you come to realize is part of the same group as Wonwoo, glances at you from the rearview mirror with a shake of his head. “I can vouch. Wonwoo-hyung’s been working on sharing stuff with us, but of course there’s still some things he’d like to keep to himself.”
I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.
Great. Now you feel twice as horrible.
“Honestly, I was kind of scared that you guys would think I’m a sasaeng,” you admit with a dry laugh before settling further into the car’s plush upholstery. 
“While we have no reason not to think that with all the weirdos popping up these days,” Sohee starts before her lips curve into a smile, “it just so happens that Soonyoung also can’t keep his mouth shut about Wonwoo’s little crush.”
That makes your face heat up a little. “Soonyoung like…Wonwoo’s friend?”
“You might know him better as Hoshi,” Vernon explains. 
Hoshi, Hoshi, Hoshi…
You snap your fingers once you figure it out. “Yeah. He’s my sister’s bias wrecker.”
“Now we learn that your sister is a fan, too? Huh. Small world.”
“Anyway,” Sohee interjects. “The reason why we believed your explanation was because Soonyoung described Wonwoo’s crush as an animal lover. He’s not so much of a blabbermouth that he gave us more details aside from that, but Vernon here told me about how Wonwoo always comes late to their unit meetings because he keeps making all these detours first.”
Vernon stifles a laugh. “I actually found out about the shelter because Coups-hyung insisted that we follow him around to figure out where he’s been going. It didn’t occur to me at the time that his animal lover crush and the nice shelter lady could be the same person.”
At this point, you can honestly get used to being called a nice shelter lady. But that aside, you can’t help but flush even further at all the things being revealed to you right now. 
It’s…a lot to unpack. 
First, Wonwoo has a crush on you? A complete nobody? Then again, from how often he’s been seeking you out before things went to shit, you could infer that he’s at least a little bit interested from how he kept going out of his way to see you. He’s even late to meetings because of his little visits. This so-called crush was quite obvious, you just don’t like how flustered hearing it out loud makes you feel.
“But then Wonwoo-hyung just started showing up on time to our meetings during our comeback promotions,” Vernon continues. “We were glad we didn’t have to keep waiting for him to start, but…we also noticed that he’s been kind of down lately. The first time it happened, I assumed it was just an off day for him, though now that we met you like this, that’s definitely not the case.”
Wonwoo’s been feeling down? Because of you?
If the roles were reversed, you can say that you’d feel the same if he just stopped talking to you when you thought you were already growing closer. It doesn’t help that the last time you were together, you shared far too many kisses that mere friends should indulge each other with. 
You sigh, leaning your head against the headrest.
You’re such an idiot. A selfish, inconsiderate—
“Well, here we are.”
When the car pulls over, you don’t even realize that Sohee already left the freeway and drove into one of the roads overlooking the Han River. You can barely keep yourself from choking on your own breath when you spot a very familiar motorcycle parked in front of the vehicle. It doesn’t help that Sohee pulled over a certain spot underneath the elevated highway that you’re very much certain you’ve already been to once before.
“Hyung doesn’t know that we know about this place. He never brings anyone else here,” Vernon informs you with a small smile. “From the look on your face, we can assume that he’s already brought you here though, right?”
You can’t even deny it at this point. “Yeah…”
Sohee moves to unlock the doors before glancing behind the driver’s seat with an encouraging look. “Well, how about you clear things upso we can start going on double dates and stuff.”
“Sohee,” her boyfriend groans.
“What? I think it’d be a great idea.” She pouts. “We can even rope Nari and Mingyu into tagging along. Then it’ll be a triple date.”
“What she means to say is,” Vernon cuts in before Sohee can get another word out. “No pressure. You go sort out the stuff you need to with Wonwoo-hyung. I’m sure the two of you can make the best decision for each other once you get to talk properly.”
The best decision, huh…
Your new friends watch you with wordless encouragement as you open the door to your left, letting out a long-winded breath so you wouldn’t be too psyched out by the circumstances. You thank them both with a subtle nod as you gather enough courage to see the person you’ve been longing to meet again for a while now.
Now or never, you repeat to yourself before finally stepping out of the car.
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Wonwoo’s thinking spot looks much different in the day than it does at night.
You had a pretty hard time navigating the short terrain from the road to the old, weathered steps of the watchtower because of the lack of proper illumination. If it weren’t for Wonwoo guiding you the entire time, you would’ve face planted into the pebbled pathway on the first few steps. 
The sun is already setting when you make it to your destination—red orange rays splintering through the high rise buildings on the other side of the river bank. It’s not difficult to spot Wonwoo’s tall figure leaning across the rusty railing of the watchtower, a gentle smile gracing his handsome face as he plays with the growing kitten in his arms. 
He doesn’t notice you at the foot of the concrete steps right away, too engrossed with playing with Hani to take in the rest of his surroundings. But the longer you watch them from afar, the more your chest twists with guilt.
All this time, you never really thought about how Wonwoo must’ve been faring since you ghosted him. You merely assumed that he’d still be living his best life despite what happened between the two of you. The thought that he’ll still be better off without you in his life spurred you on to solely focus on the things you’ve got going on your end. You didn’t consider just how your actions would affect him. Not even once. 
But now, despite having such an adorable cat to keep him company, it isn’t hard to tell that he’s not in the most stellar of moods.
It’s not like you’ve seen Wonwoo smile a lot when you still knew him as Woo—no thanks to his silly little face masks. But you always liked how his eyes crinkled behind his glasses whenever you said something he finds funny or amusing. The easygoing body language he always seemed to have around you.
There’s none of that now.
“Wonwoo.”
He visibly stiffens at the sound of someone calling his name. Cautiously, Wonwoo tucks Hani closer to his chest—glancing around for anyone who could have infiltrated his safe haven.
When his eyes land on you, you can almost hear his breath hitch from where you’re standing.
Seeing no indication that he doesn’t want you here, you swallow the lump in your throat before climbing up the stairs. Each step you take is familiar yet foreign at the same time and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears the closer you get to him. The startled expression on Wonwoo’s face doesn’t falter even when you’re mere feet in front of him on top of the watchtower—like he’s having a hard time grasping your existence.
Hani, however, doesn’t seem all that fazed. The black kitten mewls in delight at the sight of you, squirming around in Wonwoo’s arms, which seems to snap her owner out of his stupor.
His throat bobs. “You know my name.”
You laugh softly. “It isn’t hard to figure it out when you’re as famous as you are.”
Silence permeates the air by the riverside as Wonwoo processes the words you just told him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands absentmindedly running across Hani’s fur.
“So that’s why,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I should’ve known…”
You mirror the gesture somewhat vigorously, your throat closing up from all the things you want to say. He doesn’t deserve to be left hanging all because of that stupid reason alone. He doesn’t deserve those hurtful words from Mina.
Most of all, he doesn’t deserve to feel this shitty all because you were too much of a coward to communicate with him.
“I’m sorry.” 
He startles at your apology—obviously not expecting that to be the first thing you say to him after two months of radio silence. “W-Why are you sorry? I should be—”
“It was unfair of me to just ghost you like that when you haven’t explained yourself,” you murmur, tucking your hands behind your back as you stare down at your shoes in shame. “I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling me right away, but… I selfishly thought you didn’t trust me enough to let me know.”
“No,” he quickly clarifies. “It’s not like that at all. I trust you—so much.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It took me a while, but I realized that along the way. The last time we were here, you entrusted me with the story of how you coped with losing someone. You entrusted me with your thoughts, your feelings, your secrets. And I took all that for granted because you didn’t tell me you were an idol.”
Wonwoo falls silent for only a moment as if considering what words to say next. Hani seems to sense his distress, cuddling up to his chest in an attempt to soothe him. He notices what she’s doing right away and Wonwoo scratches behind her ears with a breathless chuckle.
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t plan on hiding it forever. I knew you would find out eventually—just not as soon as you did,” he murmurs. “It was also unfair of me to take advantage of the fact that you didn’t know me as Wonwoo. But…I wanted to keep my career out of the equation first because it’s nice being treated like a normal person. You never put me on a pedestal or looked at me like I was some sort of god.
“You treated me like I was human.”
This time, you’re the one who’s at a loss for words. 
Having Haewon as a sister, you have this preconceived notion about idols where they have the world in the palm of their hands. You thought for the longest time that all they had to do was go up the stage to sing and dance and look beautiful and the rest will follow. 
Hearing Wonwoo tell you this easily subverted all those assumptions. 
You’ve never been good at telling people the things they need to hear. That’s Haewon’s area of expertise, not yours. So instead of offering up any words of comfort, you quickly close the distance that’s been keeping you apart to throw your arms around his broad shoulders.
Wonwoo freezes up when you pull him into a hug and he loathes the fact that he can’t even reciprocate it given that he has his hands full. It’s kind of adorable how careful you’re being to make sure you don’t accidentally squish Hani between your bodies. 
Suddenly, all that heaviness that’s been lingering in his heart for weeks dissipates in a flash. Wonwoo relishes in the feeling of your warmth seeping into his, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds back his emotions.
“Can we start over again?” you murmur. “We still haven’t had our first date, right?”
When you feel the sound of his laughter rumbling in his chest, you can’t help the goosebumps that rise across your skin. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to forgive me that fast.”
Pulling away for a moment, you shoot him a dirty look. “Jeon Wonwoo, are you saying I’m easy?”
“Not at all.” Wonwoo grins and you can barely look at him without recoiling at how good he looks. 
His hair has grown much longer than you remember and seeing the smile that oh-so easily hooked you in deeper than you already were, you already know that you can’t ever hope to put up a fight. 
Not when he’s so love-of-your-life-shaped.
“Since we’re at the point of catching up, I’m actually graduating in three weeks.”
Wonwoo sharply turns to look at you with a scowl as he puts Hani in a little cat backpack he got for her. “Three weeks? Shit… I think we’re going to have a concert at that time.”
You wave away his concern with a smile. “I didn’t mean I was expecting you to show up at the venue, doofus. Can’t have any weird rumors about you going around by attending my graduation.”
“Rumors about what?” he challenges.
“You know.”
“I actually don’t.”
“We just made up ten minutes ago, Do you really want me to bail on you again?”
“Hey, I just thought that if you ever want to spark some dating rumors, we can make it happen any time.” 
“We’re not even dating!”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“It’s just like you said—I still owe you that first date, don’t I?”
“...Have I told you that you’re insufferable?”
“I’m actually surprised you didn’t start calling me that when I kept visiting the shelter too often to be considered normal.”
“That reminds me, why were you visiting the shelter so much?”
When Wonwoo hands you Hani’s cat backpack, you take it as an invitation to hitch a ride on his motorcycle. After all, it would be uncomfortable to have it sitting between the two of you. However, he takes you completely by surprise by answering you with:
“I like you. That’s why.”
It takes you about five whole seconds to recover from what he just said but it’s five seconds too late because Wonwoo is already chuckling to himself as if he deserves to have the last laugh.
“You’re lucky that I like you too,” you mumble as you carefully hop on his ride—sitting comfortably behind him while making sure Hani is strapped securely behind you. “If I didn’t, Mina would’ve made our boss file a restraining order against you.”
Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet before putting on his own, laughing again as he clicks the lock in place. “Dating rumors and stalking rumors? Being with you sounds like such a big hassle now.”
“Are we going on that first date or not?!”
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Two months after graduating and four weeks into officially dating Jeon Wonwoo, you find out the real reason he was taking so damn long to make up his mind about adopting Hani.
The landlord doesn’t prohibit pets—he loves them, actually. 
His dog, Seol, is a little shy, but she gets along with Hani just fine.
But then his old roommate, Mingyu, dropped by to visit Wonwoo’s apartment one day, sneezing all over the place like it’s pollen season. Except the pollen in question is cat fur and it just so happens that he didn’t bring any of his allergy meds for the trip.
“As much as I want to cuddle on the couch catching up on the Marvel Cinematic Universe with you guys, I gotta go,” Mingyu explains while blowing his nose into a tissue. “I’ll die if I spend even a second longer here.”
Wonwoo throws a piece of popcorn at him. “Didn’t you say that you’re going on a date with Nari?”
“Oh. That, too.”
“If she finds out that you just remembered as an afterthought, she’s going to kill you,” you tease while shoving a handful of your movie snacks into your mouth. “At least, that’s what I’d do if Wonwoo did the same thing.”
“Oh, she will. That’s why neither of you are going to tattle on me,” the beefy idol huffs before tossing the soiled tissue in the trash bin. “Anyway, Wonwoo-hyung, you should totally keep in touch with this pet sitter that Seungcheol-hyung discovered recently. A bunch of other artists leave their pets with her whenever they have tight schedules.”
Your boyfriend merely looks at him with an unimpressed look. “Are you saying that just so I can leave Hani there when you come over to play video games with me?”
“Yes.”
Mingyu leaves shortly after receiving a phone call from his girlfriend, Nari, who sounded nothing short of furious when she asked where on earth he is and why he’s late for their date again. Wonwoo tells you that his best friend has a thing for pissing off Nari just so he has an excuse to do grand gestures for her without his girlfriend complaining about it. You tell him that he should start doing the same too.
“By the way, you’re flying back to Jeju for a while, right?” Wonwoo asks once the credits start rolling in the film playing on his TV—the loose grip he has around your waist tightening ever-so slightly.
You shift your weight on the couch to cuddle closer to him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen my parents and Haewon since I graduated. Plus, I don’t have to start working until next month, so I can afford a last-minute getaway.”
He nods. “I still think it’s funny you haven’t told your sister about me. Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“Quit saying weird stuff, Jeon Wonwoo,” you huff before hitting him in the chest. Damn those firm pecs. “I just want to see the look on her face when she finds out I’m dating the person she ships with Mingyu for fun.”
“And I still can’t believe my future sister-in-law is a Gyuldaengie.”
You try not to think about how he said Haewon is his future in-law. You really do.
Once the last of the end credits pans on-screen, the bonus scene at the end of every Marvel movie starts playing and you can’t help but snort when Eddy gets snapped back to his own universe before he can even pay off his tab to the bartender. Just when you’re about to ask Wonwoo if he wants to watch the next movie, you realize he’s had his eyes on you the entire time.
“What?” you laugh.
“Nothing,” he whispers. “I just thought you were really pretty.”
“Wonwoo, you tell me that every thirty minutes. Don’t you get tired of it?”
You yelp when he abruptly pulls you onto his lap, steadying you by the hips so you wouldn’t accidentally topple to the floor. He flashes you a lazy grin as he traces circles along the curve of your thighs and you can barely suppress a groan when you look down at him.
He might look like some otherworldly creature every time he kills it on stage, but you love this Wonwoo just the same—dressed down with his glasses sitting all crooked on the bridge of his nose, hair falling across his eyes. 
“Never,” he says simply. 
There’s something oddly sensual about the way he says it and at that moment, you catch on to the half-lidded look in his eyes. You gulp, gaze instinctively wandering around his apartment to look for Hani and Seol, who you spot dozing next to each other in the kitchen. 
Now that you’re sure none of the kids are watching, you let out a defeated sigh before lacing your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him.
Wonwoo is a guy you caved and kissed before the first date, so it’s pretty natural for the two of you to fall into this degree of intimacy every now and again. His effect on you is especially lethal whenever you spend several days apart because of the nature of his career. 
But even if you’re yet to cross that line with your boyfriend, the possibility of it finally coming into fruition becomes more and more real every time his hot tongue slides against yours. 
“Won…woo—” you gasp when you feel his cold fingers sneak up your shirt, hands firmly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. 
Your boyfriend chuckles and the low vibrations that come from his chest shoot straight to your core. “I know tonight was supposed to be movie night, but you’re making it really hard to keep my hands off of you.” 
“That’s what you say all the time,” you groan as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Fuck. “Always blaming me for your lack of self-control.”
“I can’t help it when you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before tugging you back down for another heated kiss.
You’ve fooled around with Wonwoo a handful of times and during said times, you’ve gotten an idea of how…into it he gets when pleasuring you. It’s almost as if he delights in seeing you come undone for him even if it’s just with his mouth and fingers. 
It’s during those moments that you can’t help but imagine how he would be once the two of you finally take things all the way. But for all your teasing about how he has questionable self-control, Wonwoo has done nothing but respect the boundaries you’ve clearly set when you started dating. 
“Fuck,” he rasps when he pulls away briefly, resting his head against the cushions of the sofa as he closes his eyes. “Baby, we’ve gotta stop or else I might just cave and fuck you.”
You simper. “You’re the one who started this.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m putting a stop to it before I end up doing something you don’t like!”
You shift around on his lap for a moment and Wonwoo is convinced that you’ll give him some reprieve and get off of him before he loses his mind. But then he realizes you’re grinding your hips against the hard-on he’s sporting in his sweats. 
Chuckling to yourself, you pull him by the front of his shirt—pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before leaning into his ear to whisper:
“What if I want you to fuck me, Woo?”
The deep growl that resonates in his throat sounds so fucking hot, you can feel a gush of slick surge between your thighs. He doesn’t say a word—merely opting to keep his hard stare on yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. You immediately get the gist and hold on tight to him as he carries you out of the living room and into his bedroom.
“I’m giving you a chance to back out again, sweetheart,” he sighs as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Think you can handle it when I get serious about fucking you until you can’t walk?”
The mental image he conjures in your head has you mewling in his arms, prompting you to pepper his neck with sloppy kisses as he gropes your ass like it’s always belonged to him. 
“Think you can actually make good on that though?” you challenge with a soft chuckle, grazing your teeth just below his collarbone. You won’t bite—knowing that his stylists will give him hell for it if he shows up to work with hickeys. “We both know you like to talk big sometimes.”
Wonwoo breathes out a condescending chuckle before gently easing you on top of the mattress. You didn’t think it was possible, but you swear you get even wetter when he takes off his glasses and licks his lips at the sight of you.
“Oh, baby, you’re in for a fucking ride.”
That’s how you find yourself with your back pressed against Wonwoo’s insanely sculpted chest—both your mouth and pussy stuffed with his thick fingers as he works you open enough to take his cock. He slides those thick digits in and out of your wet channel, making sure you get used to the stretch all while he muffles your noises at the same time. 
Normally, he likes hearing you get whiney and desperate for him, but there’s a charm to seeing you slobber all over his fingers as you clench up around the ones buried in your pussy. 
“Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight for me,” he whispers huskily in your ear and the sound of his rough voice layered with the lewd squelch of your cunt makes your insides tingle. “Been thinking about having this pretty pussy all to myself for a while now. You gonna let me have it now, baby? Let me wreck you on my cock?”
Wonwoo easily has the hottest voice you’ve ever heard in your entire life. While you often think about how you can fall asleep happily just listening to him talk about anything under the sun, it’s an entirely different story when he’s spouting all this filth into your ear as he prepares you for an overdue dicking down. 
“Yes, please—” You sob pathetically when he takes his fingers out of your mouth, curling your arm behind you so you can blindly grab his hair and mend your lips into a messy kiss. “Wonwoo, I need you so bad.”
“Desperate little thing,” your boyfriend chuckles before withdrawing his fingers from your needy hole. The loss has you writhing in his lap, one hand shooting out to keep him where you want him but Wonwoo coos into your ear as if to pacify you. “Shhh, baby, I need you to come first before I fuck you. You’ll be good for me and let me make you come, right?” 
Shit. Who are you to refuse when he propositions you like that?
“I need an answer, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be good,” you gasp almost immediately as your boyfriend starts parting your pussy lips with the hand that was muffling your cute noises. “I’ll be so good for you, please just—”
“Just what, baby?” Wonwoo teases and you nearly cry.
“M-Make me come on your fingers…”
He hums, slick fingers gliding along your slit. “Not if you don’t say—”
“Please,” you whimper before grinding your pussy against his hand. “Wonwoo, I wanna come. Wanna come so bad. Want you to stuff me full of your cock. Want you to—” 
It’s almost like he tapped in on every single nerve ending in your body when his dexterous fingers find your clit—rubbing the puffy bud in fast, tight circles as you start twitching in his arms. Wonwoo lets out another evil laugh as he forcibly pries your legs apart. The firmness of his grip leaves you no choice but to thrash around as he builds your orgasm from the ground up, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat as he teases an orgasm out of you with the sound of his voice coupled with his sinful ministrations.
“So wet and ready for me. Have you thought about taking me inside this sweet little pussy? Do you think you can even fit me when you’re this tight?” he breathes into your ear and you don’t even have the dignity to bite down your moans anymore. “You’re so close, sweetheart. Let yourself go and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll blow your pretty back out over and over until you’re sick of me.”
Never, you want to tell him. I’ll never get sick of you, stupid Wonwoo.
Funnily enough, that silent jab at him is quickly followed by a mind-numbing release. It washes over you like a storm surging into a calm shore—overloading every cell in your body with pleasure until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken rendition of your lover’s name. 
Wonwoo talks you through your high because he knows you’ve got a thing for his voice. Knows just how much tighter you get when he whispers filthy words with a sultry sweet tone. 
And when he growls, “Good fucking girl,” into your ear, you’re convinced he just made you come again while still riding the waves of your first orgasm. 
For all his vigor, Wonwoo is surprisingly patient with you as you recover from what he just put you through. He plants brief kisses all over your neck and face until your breathing finally evens out and you stop seeing stars in the seams of your vision. Your boyfriend offers up a gentle smile when you finally come to—leaning in to kiss your nose.
“You still want more?” he whispers, exercising enough restraint to be revered despite the fact that you can feel his hard, leaking cock pressed against the small of your back. 
A soft, somewhat weak laugh makes its way past your lips as you turn around to peck his lips. Wonwoo smiles against your mouth and you can’t help but do the same.
Then, you issue another challenge.
“Do your worst.”
You’re grateful now more than ever that Wonwoo is the easiest person to talk to in the entire world. You can practically count the things that he wouldn’t want to discuss with you on one hand alone. 
In other words, you’ve already had the necessary conversations about sex, should you ever have it with him in the future (A.K.A., right now). Wonwoo knows you’ve been on birth control ever since you moved to Seoul all those years ago. He knows that you get yourself tested at least once every month if you can and assures you that he does the same.
On the other hand, you’re well aware that your boyfriend has a thing for coming inside, and now that you’ve gone this far with him, you’ll gladly let Wonwoo make his fantasies a reality. 
He only agreed to it once you promised to tell him whenever you feel like he’s going too far or if he’s doing something you don’t like. You swear you would’ve married him on the spot, if it weren’t for that tiny voice in your head that suspiciously sounds like Haewon telling you off for losing it over a man who’s doing the bare minimum.
With those measures in place, you feel safe enough to let Wonwoo press your face down onto the mattress as his free hand grips your ass—fucking into your tight cunt as he tries (and fails) to keep himself from being too rough with you. 
He really, really wanted to be gentle, considering it’s your first time to lie together like this. But your unfiltered reactions do nothing but test both his patience and self-control in more ways than one. All his plans on making love to you in good old missionary have been tossed out of the window now that you’ve given him the green light to actually fuck you until you can’t walk.
“Wonwoo,” you moan, fists curling into the sheets as he cants his hips deeper and deeper—the head of his cock hitting spots your own fingers could never hope to reach. “S-So fucking good…”
“Yeah?” he breathes raspily before leaning down to press his chest against your back, wanting to engulf you in the heat of his body until it’s all you’ll ever know. “My pretty baby loves my cock that much? You want me to fuck you all the time now?”
“Uh huh.” You nod before letting out a high pitched keen when he amps up the speed of his thrusts—slamming his hips harder against your ass.
Wonwoo thinks he could really get used to the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in like this. You’re so greedy—clamping down on him as tightly as you do as you moan his name like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. But how could you not when each vein that runs along the underside of his perfect cock drags so deliciously across your velvet walls? When his balls—hot and heavy and full of enough cum to fill you to the brim—keep clapping against your pussy with each powerful thrust?
It’s the first time that you got to get a taste of what your boyfriend is capable of in bed and you can only imagine every instance that will follow once all’s said and done.
When he feels your walls start to spasm around his length every now and again, Wonwoo presses a sloppy kiss across the cut of your jaw—a hand sliding between your thighs so he can find that little bundle of nerves that made you fall apart only several minutes ago. Your reaction is immediate—crying and squirming below him even when you’re helpless against his massive frame pressing you down into the bed. 
“I’m so close, baby,” he groans into your ear, holding out for as long as he can just so he can feel the sensation of you coming around his cock. “You’re almost there, too, aren’t you? My good girl—taking my dick like it’s always been yours. Can you come with me? You can do that for me, right, sweetheart?”
The fondness in his voice strings you even further apart and you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure and delirium as Wonwoo continues his assault on your poor, abused clit. He knows just the right amount of pressure to use and manages to time his thrusts with each delicious pass on that oversensitive bud.  
It’s all over before you know it. 
You let out a long-winded moan that will definitely earn him a couple of noise complaints from the neighbors but Wonwoo doesn’t have it in him to fucking care at the moment. Not when your walls are clamping down so tightly around his cock—making each stroke all the more tantalizing as your pussy milks him for everything he’s got to give you. 
You mindlessly babble a string of I love yous against the sheets, a trail of drool dripping onto the mattress as Wonwoo fucks into you with heightened ferocity. He catches every single word you say and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss you. Your boyfriend forces your tongue into a dance with his own until his hips stutter and stop—white hot emission surging into your cunt in thick spurts that he hopes would stay inside you for days if he can help himself.
You’re a mess—face painted with a fucked out expression as your pussy leaks with a mixture of yours and Wonwoo’s cum. The mere sight of it is almost enough to make him hard again, but he tells himself that he can take you up on marathon sex next time.
For now, he just wants to clean you up and tuck you back into bed.
“Woo?”
He turns to face you with a questioning look. Your boyfriend just finished with your mandatory aftercare session and is in the middle of making the bed comfortable enough for some post-sex cuddles. “Hmm?”
“You’re still free next week right?” you ask, drawing silly shapes on his chest with your finger once he finally lays down next to you.
“Yeah. I don’t have any major schedules until…” He pauses before conjuring up an imaginary calendar in his mind. “Next month. Why?”
Despite all the debauchery you’ve subjected each other to in a single night, your face still flushes as you consider what you’re about to ask him. Wonwoo smiles at that. Cute.
“How do you feel about flying to Jeju with me so I can introduce you to my family?” you ask shyly, gulping with a nervous laugh. “I totally get it if your management won’t allow it though. It’s hard to keep the media off your back when you’re so famous and—”
He doesn’t do this often, but Wonwoo shuts you up with a firm kiss.
“What are you talking about?” he murmurs, caressing your face tenderly. “Of course I want to meet them.”
When your eyes light up at his confirmation, Wonwoo swears that he couldn’t be more in love.
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Me [11:23]: hae, i’ve got good news~
Haewon 🪷 [11:24]: You’re bringing Mingyu with you to Jeju so we can get married?
Me [11:26]: very funny
Me [11:26]: not to spoil your delusions or anything but i’m bringing my boyfriend
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Omg… 
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Rudeness aside, is it the same guy from before? 
Me [11:31]: yep
 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: AAAAAAAAA
 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: I can’t wait to meet him!
 Haewon 🪷 [11:34]: He better be treating you right or I’ll drop kick him off Jusangjeollidae
Me [11:40]: you’ve already met him though~
Haewon 🪷 [11:41]: ?
Haewon 🪷 [11:45]: Unnie, what do you mean…
Haewon 🪷 [12:32]: Hey!!!!
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⟢ end notes: if you've made it til the end, congrats! this is the last of the doting on you! series (for now~) and i really hope you enjoyed reading through it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! special thanks to all the friends that read through this for me T T i wouldn't have done it without any of you ueueue and to everyone that has been patiently waiting for me to put up the last installment for the series, thank you for waiting <3 i hope you guys continue to support me with my future work as well!
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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aycius · 5 months ago
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JJK MEN AS DADS !‧₊˚
feat. satoru gojo, nanami kento, & toji fushiguro
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SATORU GOJO
literally the kids’ best friends. satoru’s parents weren’t necessarily the most active in his life so he made it a goal to have children with someone he genuinely loved — you. he is such a supportive dad and tends to overindulge in his children’s interest… one of those dads that buys boxes of mangos just because their child said they liked mangos. they wanna learn how to play a sport? satoru’s already got multiple personal trainers in his contacts to make sure your children have the best form of education when it comes to said sport. you thought satoru was playful before? oh, when he’s with his children, he’s even worse. tag, hide and seek, tic tac toe, satoru’s allowing the kids to stay up LATE, because he’s not giving up until he wins one of those games. you argue that the kids are still young, and satoru should be the bigger person and allow the kids to win but satoru isn’t hearing NONE of that. def the type to let the kids stay home just because they said they’re feeling “sick.” you kinda had to step in at a point because the kids got on and started lying just to stay home. regardless, this man loves his kids and is willing to do anything to ensure that they, as well as his lovely wife, you, live a happy and comfortable life. one time after a long family trip, you and satoru were settled in your room while the kids were asleep and he started getting emotional because he genuinely wondered what he could have done to deserve such a loving family :(( poor baby. underneath the playful facade he puts on for the kids, he just wants to make sure they never doubt that their father loves them. you always reassure him that you and the kisses are blessed to have a husband and a father like him.
NANAMI KENTO
you and his daughter are the light of his life. there’s no place he’d rather be than home. he loves it here. he has a portrait of you and his daughter playing in the backyard at his office and always looks at it to cheer him up when he’s having a bad day. recently, your daughter has been clinging and missing him more and she absolutely hates it when kento leaves. your daughter literally takes your phone to text nanami and is constantly checking up on him at work. it’s one of the things he looks most forward to when going to work. he also loves facetiming her when he’s on break because she is always asking for nanami at home and he feels so bad.. always reads her a bedtime story before kissing her forehead and tucking her in goodnight. you and nanami recently started doing road-trips every summer to the beach because your daughter has had a recent infatuation with fish. after a long day at the beach, you, him, and your daughter walk on the boardwalk as nanami carries the little one in his arms, your hand in his as you all admire how pretty the beach is at night. it’s so sweet because nanami loved the beach growing up. the fact that he has the opportunity to go with his new family now, he couldn’t be more grateful. never fails to tell you and your daughter that he loves the both of you more than anything in life. you guys are his purpose and motivation.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
… ok so i’m sure we’ve seen how he has been as a father but—hear me out! toji loves you and his kid severely. toji has always been one to not wear his heart on his sleeve and guard himself but he’s been working really hard, and constantly does, so he can be the best husband and father for his child. although toji is seen as this tough guy in front of others, he has the softest spot for his child. everyday when he comes home from work, his face instantly lights up when he sees his little kid run up to him and give him the biggest hug. scoops the kid in his arm and kisses them on the cheek while he talks about how much he missed the child. he’s def the type of dad to enroll their kid in a sport, and for some reason i can see him being a serious soccer dad. like that man does NOT play. the type of dad to get really loud on the bleachers if another kid on the opposite team LOOKS at his kid the wrong way. constantly makes bets with his kid that if they score a goal he’ll them candy and you’re just like… ykw i’ll let them handle this. you’re just happy to be there tbh. i can imagine toji being the coach to your kid’s traveling team, so weekends are always full of road-trips to the destination where they’re playing at. teaches his kid discipline and respect at a very young age. sometimes he can be a bit tough and you know it’s out of love but sometimes you do have to step in. truly, toji means no harm—he was just brought up roughly in his household. toji parents weren’t the best either so everyday he’s happy that you’re there as a guide to him so he can be the best father possible.
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ellecdc · 6 months ago
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Helloo!!!
Fisrt: I bloody love your blog, you knoked me up on Poly!Moonwater and now I always think about them.
Second: Could I request black brother centric fic? Like it’s a Poly!wolfstar X reader, (or literally any ship that you like involving Sirius), where they have a kid, and Sirius is like watching them play alongside Reg, and he just starts spiralling bc he’s afraid that he might become like his parents, and Reg starts comforting him taking in account what they had to go through, and their relationship growing ecc… and he’s like “Just the fact that you’re worrying means you’re not like that, you’re doing a great job.” And Sirius just dies crying with him.
Obv only if you feel comfortable writing it!! Thank you!!!
those poor sad boys; what I wouldn't do for them
parents!wolfstar x reader but it's Sirius and Regulus centric
CW: brief mention of Black brother's childhood, Sirius spiralling, Regulus talking sense into him, baby wolfstar being a certified menace, hurt/comfort
Regulus should have known there was an ulterior motive to Sirius’ “are you busy this afternoon?” text. 
Not that Regulus didn’t like spending time with his older brother (though he would staunchly deny that he did if Sirius ever asked), but it wasn’t common for Sirius to invite him over unprompted.
And sure enough, as Regulus stepped through the floo at your, Remus, and Sirius’ shared home, he quickly realised why.
Your pudgy little offspring (that Regulus loved more than life itself) was sitting in a booster seat at the kitchen island as she shoved some form of noodle into her mouth and babbled at Sirius which sounded nonsensical to Regulus but seemed to make perfect sense to Sirius as he answered her queries.
And you and Remus were nowhere to be found. 
“Look who it is, babygirl!” Sirius cheered as Regulus stepped into the kitchen, though Regulus could see some of his brother’s usual enthusiasm was curbed.
“Unc’Regloo!” Aurora cheered excitedly as she raised her messy fists up into the air much like she was cheering at a quidditch match. 
“How’s my future little seeker?” Regulus asked as he planted a kiss into the toddler’s  hair.
“Please.” Sirius scoffed as Regulus knew he would. “She’s going to be a beater like her daddy, obviously.”
Sirius and Remus (though Remus certainly only did it to get a rise out of Sirius) argued emphatically over who the child looked more alike - Sirius or Remus - having kept the biological father unknown.
Regulus was happy to note though that the child was nearly a carbon copy of you; She had your hair, your eyes, and your smile. 
But the way the child ‘pat Regulus’ arm lovingly’ [leaving a small orange coloured handprint on his pressed shirt] was all Sirius. 
“Where’s your better third’s?” Regulus asked as he leaned against the granite countertops - well out of reach of Sirius’ mischievous offspring [and her messy hands]. 
Sirius spared him a half-hearted glare as he turned back to watch his daughter. “Papa had an interview at Hogwarts today and mummy is at the Ministry.” Sirius explained as if it had been Aurora who had asked the question.
“I see why you called, then.” Regulus added solemnly, turning to look at the child. “I wouldn’t want to leave you alone with Papa either.”
The child giggled as she shoved more noodles into her mouth, but Regulus turned to see Sirius staring at the child dejectedly.
“Sirius?”
Sirius cleared his throat and seemed to ‘shake himself off’ as he asked Aurora to drink some water and then helped her clean her hands and face [and even her hair; Salazar, babies were messy]. 
“Daddy! Can play outside?” Aurora asked excitedly, clasping her hands under her chin and batting her lashes at her father as if she were asking for something quite outlandish.
“Of course, sweetheart! Lead the way!” Sirius agreed readily, following the child out the sliding back door as Regulus followed the pair. 
Aurora was no sooner pouring sand into a little plastic bucket before Sirius let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Reg.” He whispered quietly.
Regulus surveyed his brother in bemusement; Sirius sat on the patio furniture with his elbows on his knees and one hand covering his mouth as he stared unseeingly at his daughter.
“You’re supervising your child during playtime, Sirius.” Regulus offered, causing Sirius to scoff unamusedly. 
“I’m going to fuck it up; all of it. I don’t know why I ever thought I could do this, because I can’t.” 
“Whoa, whoa.” Regulus interrupted quickly, turning his body directly towards his brother. “You can’t do what exactly?”
“Any of it, Regulus.”
“You can’t love Remus and Y/N?” Regulus asked simply.
“Well, no not that; I mean, of course I do-”
“You can’t love that sweet little girl over there who thinks you just hung the stars because you agreed to let her play in dirt?” He continued, gesturing to said child who was now dumping the bucket of sand on top of her head and squealing in delight. 
“I….I don’t know how to be good… To be a good husband and father to them, Reg. I don’t know how to be…to be better; better than them.” 
The them remained unexplained, but both brother’s knew who Sirius was referring to.
“Well,” Regulus started with a sigh, turning back to watch Aurora jump up and run over only to slam her little body into Sirius’ larger one. 
Sirius, for his part, pretended to have the wind knocked out of him causing the child to squeal before he scooped her up into his arms and planted three smacking kisses to her sand covered face, and plopping her back on the ground for her to toddle back off again. 
“Mother would have had your head for squealing like that.” Regulus said simply, causing Sirius to let out a sigh that sounded awfully close to a sob. “Father would have backhanded you for getting sand on his trousers. Kreacher would have been ordered to lock you in your room for daring to touch a guest with dirty little hands if we had ever dared to eat without utensils.”
He took a deep breath before he turned his now shining eyes back to his big brother; the only family member who ever showed him any amount of love and affection throughout his entire childhood that wasn’t conditional or performative. “And I don’t know that I was ever kissed by our parents. Were you? Do you remember them pressing a kiss to our cheeks?”
Sirius shook his head minutely as both brothers pretended they didn’t notice the tears falling down his face. 
“That child is far more loved by you alone than the two of us ever were growing up, and the best part is that she knows she’s that loved.” Regulus pressed, looking back towards his niece as she moved towards a water table Sirius had called Regulus over to help Remus build a few weeks ago whilst he and you drank spiked lemonade and watched them struggle. 
“And that’s not even taking into account the amount of family she has surrounding her; me, the Potter’s, Remus’ parents, and you Marauders.” He spat as if it was a dirty word, causing Sirius to chuckle wetly. 
“And Siri…” Regulus stated more earnestly, forcing Sirius to make eye contact with him before continuing. “The fact that you’re even worried about it tells me you’re already far better than them, yeah?”
Sirius chuckled wetly again as he squeezed his eyes shut; more tears falling as he nodded his head. 
Both boys were surprised when a small hand appeared on Sirius’ cheek, gently wiping at the tears adorning her father’s face.  “Why daddy cry? Daddy have owie?”
Sirius laughed again and pulled himself together. “No, daddy doesn’t have an owie darling girl.”
“Daddy sad?” She asked again, tilting her head slightly as if that might help her understand her father’s predicament any better.
“Daddy was sad, but he feels a lot better now that you’re here.” He said with a smile. “Better not leave me here alone with your uncle though, otherwise he might make me cry again.”
Regulus scoffed derisively before Aurora pointed a stern glare at him that wasn’t particularly intimidating but sweet Merlin did she ever look like you.
“Bad unc-Regloo! Make daddy cry!” She shouted as she hopped off her father’s lap and made for Regulus. 
Regulus - not willing to find out what exactly the child had in store for him - hopped out of his seat and took off in a ‘run’ which began a squeal-laughing chase around the backyard as Sirius laughed and cheered Aurora on.
“That’s right, baby girl! Avenge your father! Make sure to get his ribs; that’s where he’s most ticklish!”
Yeah, Regulus thought to himself, Sirius really has nothing to worry about at all. 
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papercorgiworld · 7 months ago
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Whipped for their tutor II: A Reward
Mattheo, Theo and Enzo
Tutoring the Slytherin boys isn’t easy, so you use the fact that they’re absolutely whipped as a way to motivate them. 
Find part one here, but you don’t have to read it. There’s not that much plot.
Warning: suggestive and a little bit of smut
This took longer than necessary just because it took me a week to come up with something for Enzo. Also, little announcement, I'm gonna mix requests instead of work chronological because I'm struggling with inspiration and I wanna write things I can instead of stay stuck on the things I can't, because I'm short on time atm, but I should get to all of them eventually. Happy readings! Have a lovely weekend!
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“Mate, quidditch practice, remember?” Blaise’s face appears by the door as he looks at his friend.
Mattheo
He looks up from his book and nods at Blaise. “Right, I gotta go.” Mattheo says, turning to face you as he slams his book shut. 
“Your work isn’t finished yet.” You state and meet his eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips as you play to win this situation. Mattheo looks at Blaise and back to you, he smiles at your silly comment, quidditch was way more important than studying. “I can’t miss quidditch training.” Mattheo argues.
You pout and your teasing eyes lock with his. Blaise notices Mattheo’s face going red, but what Blaise doesn’t know is that it’s because your hand is resting on Mattheo’s crotch. Softly your hand moves and you feel his member twitch. Such a sensitive boy. “On second thought,” Mattheo’s voice comes out almost squeaky and he forces a cough to regain compose “I’m not allowed to play the game if I don’t pass tomorrow’s test so I better study.” 
Blaise knows better than to ask questions and simply nods before leaving. “Such a good student.” The words drip off your lips as Mattheo’s eyes land on your lips. “If you put in a few more hours of studying then you’ll nail tomorrow’s test. And Matty, if you get an A I’ll give you a little reward.” Your words are a seductive whisper and you know you’re doing it right when you feel Mattheo get harder. Your hand moves over the bulge in his pants and like the good student Mattheo is, his eyes fall from you to the pages of his summary. 
You notice his blush and his hard swallow. He was trying his best to focus, but struggling with hardness in his pants and your hand. Seeing him like this, you couldn’t deny it, it turned you on a little as well. He was so fun to play with. “Maybe it’s best I let you study alone for today.” You whisper close to his ear and his puppy eyes meet yours. He doesn’t want you to leave. “I feel you’re … a little distracted.” You say lips almost brush his ear as your hand strokes him member one last time before moving away. “Good luck.” You say and you kiss his cheek, staining his face with your lipstick. Maybe she didn’t notice… Mattheo stares down at his crotch. Who am I kidding! Why am I so sensitive to her? Salazar, she drives me crazy!
***
Mattheo was really excited when the professor returned his test a few days later. When he spotted you talking to your friend in the hallway that same day he wanted to offer you his test but worried he would look like a fool he decided against it, cursing himself for being so needy for you. He needed your praise, he thought about it almost every night, but his ego kept him from begging for it.
So he eagerly waited for the next tutoring session and his eagerness was obvious to you since he was early. You walk into the classroom and are surprised to find Mattheo seated with his books out on the table. When he sees you walk in he gets up and smiles at you and you can’t help but smile at how whipped he is. “I got an A.” He blurs out before you even get the chance to sit down. You lick your lips and Mattheo feels his face heat up. Salazar, I sound desperate. I can’t even think with her around. You take a step closer to him and you lean suggestively close. Mattheo tries to meet your lips but you teasingly avoid the kiss. You chuckle softly, making him flustered, moving to whisper in his ear. “What did you think your reward would be?” 
Mattheo swallows and his eyes lock with yours. “You.” He breathes, not hiding his desire for you. While waiting for you in this classroom filled with sexual tension Mattheo’s mind and body had gone wild with anticipation for what his reward could be. Every possible fantasy of the past weeks had shot through his mind as he had waited for you, for his reward.  “You think that you can have me because you had one good test?” You raise an eyebrow. “An A+.” He specifies and he immediately feels embarrassed by how pathetic he must sound, trying to impress you with his grades. However, he manages to snap out of his embarrassment and regains some of his composure. With a slight teasing tone to his voice he speaks up. “You said I would get a reward.” He does his best to sound confident and you’re almost impressed by how good he sells it. 
Your hand moves over his chest and lower, pressing your chest against his. “Well, as a reward you don’t have to pretend like you’re not rock hard, you can take care of yourself.” He’s baffled. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. “Sit.” You command and he does so without thinking. You sit down as well and slowly unbuckle his belt, knowing that you’ll find his cock hard once again. “Now, there, treat yourself.” You say almost mocking him. His eyes stay focused on yours as his hand slowly and hesitantly moves towards his member. Your eyes meet his and you feel yourself drawn to his pretty eyes. You lean in and Mattheo’s eyes fall to your lips as his hand slowly strokes his dick. He was so turned on by you, but he barely dared to make a move, afraid that you would reject him if he didn’t play it right. 
Almost brushing his lips you halt and let your eyes fall down to his hand jerking his rather large size. You let your hand rest on his thigh, making him bite his lip. “You’re quite impressive.” You whisper and Mattheo grips his cock a little hard. You loved how needy he was for your praise, for you, but he hated how much control you had over him.
Theodore
You sit opposite of Theo and don’t see Blaise, but still roll your eyes. How dare he interrupt your tutoring session. Obviously your tutoring was more important than quidditch. Theo gathers his papers and you tilt your head, when he looks up at Blaise to say something you quickly move your leg. Theodore’s eyes widen as your elegant heels move between his thighs. Your tongue slowly wets your lips as the slytherin’s eyes meet yours. You notice how his chest heaves and you have to keep yourself from smirking, but you play it professional and look at him through your lashes. Blaise coughs as he waits for a response from his friend. “I can’t.” Theodore finally answers, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. He hated giving into you, but he just could not help himself. He needed to stay and see if he had a chance with you. 
Blaise nods and disappears, making you smile proudly at Theodore. You don’t say anything and remove your high heels from between Theo’s legs, making him relax a bit. When he doesn’t return his attention to his pages but rather continues to stare at you, you get up from your seat and walk over to him. Your hands rest on his shoulder, massaging them gently before letting your hands slip down under his loosened shirt to his chest. “You really need to pass that transfiguration test so you better focus.” Your taunting whisper makes Theo lick his lip as his mind wanders to all the things he would rather do than focus.
When you still don’t get the right response you lean down so your lips brush his ear. “Be a good student. I like good students. If you work through all chapters by tonight you might earn yourself a reward.” You let a hand rest just above his belt as your other hand grabs his chin, making him face you. “Can you do that for me?” You're toying with him and he knows it, but he wants to be your toy so badly. The last bit of protest within Theo disappears and he nods. You let go of his pretty face and he returns to his summary. 
“If you’ve finished your summary, come find me so I can check it for you.” You say and quickly grab your stuff. “You’re leaving?” Theodore blurs and he gets flustered by how desperate he sounded. You chuckle. “Yes, I do things outside of tutoring, but you can come and find me in my dorm when your summary is done.” You turn on your heels and he watches your beautiful figure disappear, but as soon as you’re out of sight he starts working on his summary, eager to have it finished and see you again.
***
A knock on the door has you turn your head. Before you can say anything the door slowly opens to reveal Theodore and you smile when he shows you a small bundle of papers. “My summary.” He states still not entering your room, but rather leaning against the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Theodore knew better than to go into a girl’s room without her invitation. He learned that from Pansy, the hard way. You're amused by his good behaviour and get up from your seat to take his summary. You flip through the pages and Theo watches you with anticipation. Your hair fell perfectly, your eyes were engaged with his sloppy handwriting and ever so gently you bit your plush bottom lip. He was about to adore the rest of your body, but you speak up and meet his eyes. “This is actually really thorough. I’m impressed.” A smug smile forms on Theodore lips, but as smug as he tries to act he’s blushing as well, touched by your compliment on his work. 
“If you put your mind to it, Theodore, you can get much better grades.” You continue and Theo chuckles. “I’m just rarely motivated, but you changed that.” You're surprised by his confidence, but you can’t deny that you like it. “Someone’s after his reward.” You quip and Theodore feels himself heat up. It was obvious there was no need to deny it, he wanted you and you both knew it. “You promised.” Theo says as he leans his head back a little in an attempt to look nonchalant about the whole situation.
You lay the papers down on your desk and side eye him before nodding as a silent invitation to enter, which he quickly does. He closes the door by pressing his back against his, eyes never leaving your body. His hungry eyes make you chuckle. “Just out of curiosity, what do you think you’re going to get for doing something as basic as writing a summary?” You elegantly walk over to him and seductively trace a finger over his chest. “I want a chance to dig my face between your legs.” Theo’s determined voice in combination with that phrase has your eyes widen. There’s a moment of silent tension as you stare deep into his eyes. “Don’t disappoint.” You tell him as you move your hand to his shoulder to guide him down to his knees.
Enzo
Your eyes slowly move from Blaise to Enzo who smiles bright at his friend, but shakes his head no. “Can’t, mate, I really gotta finish this or I won’t play at all.” Your eyes get all shiny when the slytherin’s eyes fall back to the books in front of him. When Blaise is far enough not to hear anything going on you scoot a little closer to Enzo. “I must say, I’m impressed at how dedicated you are to our tutoring sessions.” Enzo looks up to see your sweet smile focussed on him and he has to keep himself from drooling as his mouth parts a little. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing at how lost he is, staring at you. Eventually a soft laugh does escape your lips. “You know, if you keep studying like this you might get a reward.” Now Enzo’s jaw drops a little more and you can’t resist putting a finger under his chin to close his mouth. 
You hadn’t said anything about what this reward would be, but he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about cookies, then again neither were you. “If you work hard like the good boy you are, I’ll treat you to something sweet.” Lorenzo was unsure if it was your honey voice or the way you softly bit your lip, but his pants suddenly felt a little tighter and his heart was racing at an unhealthy pace. 
***
For weeks Enzo Berkshire had been the perfect student. Always on time for his tutoring lessons, working from start to finish, engaged with his work and his grades showed it. Yet the praise from the teachers or even the girls in his class, it all left him cold because he was only after one thing and that was the sweet reward you had promised him. Striptease, lapdance, blowjob, sex… just a piece of lingerie would be fine. Next lesson, probably… However, you had kept him waiting. Since there was never an exact agreement on when he would receive his reward, Enzo was left to guess and hope every week that this would be it. You on the other hand benefited from waiting for two reasons: Lorenzo was incredibly motivated and Lorenzo was insanely cute when he tried hinting at his reward, not really daring to ask for it.
You were surprised by how long he had played along, but he really couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. He was exploding of desire for you and the thought of getting anything from you as reward drove him mad. So he had to ask. Though the question didn’t come as a surprise, the timing was. 
You were explaining the importance of distance when using certain conjurations, when Enzo suddenly spook up. “I work hard. I’m a good student. I deserve my reward. I deserve you.” Your eyes move from the page you were pointing at to see a blushing Enzo stare at you. You sit a little straighter and Enzo swallows, terrified that his impatience had caused him to screw up with the prettiest witch to ever walk the earth. “What do you mean with that last bit, ‘I deserve you’?” A nervous chuckle leaves Lorenzo’s lips and he even starts fidgeting with his fingers, making you raise an eyebrow. He went from demanding daddy to whipped mamma’s boy real fast. “What I meant to say was… uhm… I deserve whatever you give me. I just forgot a few words there.” You smile at his nonsensical answer and react with a serious tone. “Exactly.” 
With a flick of your wrist the door slams shut and Enzo’s eyes stick to the classroom door as he realises he’s now completely alone in a room with you. While his face heats up, his blood rushes down. “You were cute trying to be all demanding.” You say as you move from your seat, Enzo watching you carefully. “I didn’t mean to come off too strong. I was just really excited for this-.” The teasing smile tugging on your lips when he said the word ‘exciting’ has Enzo falling silent. With another flick of your wrist Enzo’s chair turns towards you and he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “No doubt you’re excited.” You whisper, referring to the bulge in his pants. He feels like he’s about to lose consciousness when you slowly go down on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t move and he almost forgets to breathe as your perfect hands unbuckle his belt. 
Him moving up to help you lower his pants was instinct, because you had turned his mind to mush, his eyes drowning in yours. As soon as you start jerking his dick his moans fill the room, making you wonder what sounds he’ll make once you have him in your mouth.
Whimpers, is what filled the room when your tongue teased his tip, and cries when you finally move to take his member deep. You had him begging in a matter of seconds and you loved the control as much as you were starting to love Enzo. 
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improbable-outset · 3 months ago
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📄 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲
Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.8k (barely proof read </3)
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife and Pregnant!Reader, angst…like heavy angst, family issues (Kenji’s daddy issues, shocker), emotional breakdown, crying, Reader has a small accident (she’s in her third trimester), somewhat satisfying ending….
𝐀/𝐍: *grabs your shirt and looks at you dead in the eye* girl, if you knew how much I busted my ass for this fic—
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While Kenji grapples with the pressure of becoming a father, he receives an unexpected invite from his own.
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Kenji sat still on the couch with the latest images of the ultrasound staring back at him in his hands. His finger traced over the picture, lingering on the tiny form of the baby.
Despite the due date being a couple of months away, he still couldn’t fully grasp the reality of soon becoming a father. Each kick and shift he would feel from your growing stomach was a reminder of the new life that would soon be dependent on him.
He felt a series of emotions— anticipation, a hint of anxiety, but most of all, excitement. Kenji’s mind wandered to the future, imagining the day when he would hold his baby for the first time.
For a long time, he had always adopted the ‘cross the bridge when I get there’ mindset, never fully prepared for the far future. But the moment you told him you were pregnant, his fatherly instincts already took over his mind— it had been a messy journey for the both of you, adjusting to this new chapter in your marriage.
You, sensing his preoccupation, gave him a look; a signal he had come to recognise as a precursor to important news.
But, that was only the beginning. A boulder dropped in a pail of stagnant water, creating ripples that disrupted the quiet flow of your lives
“Don’t be mad,” you said cautiously. Kenji felt skeptical about what you were going to say— his eyes scanned your face, trying to gauge what was coming.
“What did you do?” he said slowly. Usually, when you would say this, it would be something minor, like misplacing his best baseball bat or rearranging his meticulously organised items. Anything that was easily fixable.
But what you said next felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath him.
“I invited your dad over.”
He froze in his seat. For a moment, he didn’t say anything as he struggled to process your words.
His dad? Coming over?
Nothing could have prepared him for that. He hadn’t spoken to that man in years, and now, all of a sudden he wanted to come over. What was his motivation?
“Why did you invite him?” he asked, trying to conceal his frustration.
“He tried to call through Mina. I couldn’t ignore him.”
Kenji swallowed thickly, clenching his fist slightly “And when exactly is he coming?”
“Tonight.”
Kenji just pinched the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. There was no point wasting time arguing, especially when his father was due in a few hours. “Yeah, okay, fine. He can come over, I guess,”
“Are you mad?” You asked. His expression softened. He could never be mad at you. He knew this day would come eventually. He just didn’t expect it to be now, with a baby on the way. Maybe that was why his father wanted to come over.
“No, no. I’m not mad.” He cradled your face reassuringly. “Just a little annoyed, but I’ll be fine. He can come. I’ll greet him and then I’ll stay in our room until he leaves.”
Your face dropped in disappointment. “What?”
“Exactly as I said.” Kenji didn’t know what you were expecting from this. For him to reconcile with his father after years of silence? What a joke. “I’m not gonna sit with that guy for hours while he’s here.”
“That’s not how I imagined things would go.” Your face fell further, giving him a sullen look, hoping to coax him into changing his perspective.
“What did you expect me to do? Sit there for hours and make small talk?” Kenji scoffed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last talked to him?”
He felt he was already being courteous by allowing his father inside. That was more than enough. He didn’t owe him anything else.
“He might help you with being a dad and give you some advice.”
Kenji almost laughed at that. Oh, the irony. His father was the last person to give him parenting advice. “No. I don’t need his advice. I can figure this out on my own. Don’t you understand?”
The rest of the day flew by, and the evening rolled in quicker than Kenji anticipated. Each hour that passed knotted the tension in his chest, making it harder to breathe properly.
Soon, there was an alert of a visitor outside the Ultrabase. Kenji let out a tired sigh, “I’ll…I’ll answer it.”
He rose from the bed and padded his way to the front door. His mind was a mess, and he didn’t know what to expect. He took a few deep breaths to calm his erratic heart before finally opening the door.
Kenji’s mood immediately soured when he finally made eye contact with his father. Seeing him for the first time in years sent an icy feeling through him.
“Dad…” he greeted, keeping his voice controlled.
“Kenji…it’s been a while, son.” Hayao said cautiously. Kenji towered over his father’s frame, noticing the crutches beside him. Despite the height difference, Hayao seemed smaller and more vulnerable with his old age
If the situation were different, Kenji would have only opened the door enough to fit his head out, blocking his father’s view of the inside. In fact, he might have not answered the door at all. He wouldn’t have allowed him access back into life. To keep that chasm between father and son.
But he knew that you were expecting him, so he opened the door wider and stood to the side to make room. “I suppose you should come in.”
Just as expected, you were standing beside him, waiting patiently to finally meet the unsolicited guest.
“Professor Sato.” You gave your warmest smile.
Hayao turned his attention to you as he stepped further into your house. This was the first time you saw each other face to face since he hadn’t attended the wedding. If only the situation didn’t feel so stiff, Kenji would’ve been thrilled for you to meet his dad.
He watched his father’s gaze shift to your growing belly as you rested your hands on it. Kenji’s protective instinct flared.
“Ah, hello dear. I must say, you are positively glowing.” Hayao complimented.
“I’m sorry for the short invite.”
“Oh no, it’s alright. I can tell I’ve come unannounced…but the sooner I see my grandchild, the better.”
His grandchild? The possessive pronoun left a bitter taste in Kenji’s mouth. It stung that his father was now trying to insert himself into their lives.
“Just a few months to go,” you said, trying to maintain a calm tone. Hayao reached over to place his hand on your bump. Kenji’s first instinct was to swat his hand away and tell him not to touch his wife.
But he held himself back, and allowed you to handle the situation. You didn’t pull away and let Hayao feel the baby’s movements.
“And how is the baby doing? Kicking a lot…I assume?” Hayao asked.
“Yeah, they’re very active,” you replied with a light laugh.
“Ah, I can imagine the little one must be feisty.”
Kenji stood off to the side, silently observing the interaction. He hadn’t moved an inch from the doorway as his dad interacted with you so casually.
His face morphed into a bitter rage, not understanding why his father was acting so excited and caring about your child. They hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here he was, acting as if nothing had happened.
He was probably only doing it to avoid causing an uncomfortable scene in front of you, much to Kenji’s relief. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into his family issues.
Hayao spoke again, completely oblivious to Kenji’s inner turmoil, “Any idea on the sex yet?”
You shook your head, still holding your excited expression. You didn’t have anyone to share the news with, so Kenji couldn’t blame you for your giddiness. “We wanted to keep it a surprise.”
Kenji clenched his jaw. He didn’t like the way Hayao was observing your growing belly. “You know, you remind me of my wife when she was pregnant. She always had a glow, even at the last phase.”
Kenji felt like he had just been dunked in a tub of ice. It hadn’t even been a minute, and already his father is bringing up his mother. But what his father said next did not sit right with him.
“I have some experience in the field of pregnancy. Some challenges might come up. But don’t worry, I’m here to help any way I can.”
No thanks.
“Thank you.” You said, your gratitude seemed genuine. “Uhm, do you want to take a seat? I’ll bring some tea,”
“Yes, thank you, dear.” Hayao smiled and sat down on one of the couches, making himself comfortable. His eyes flickered back at Kenji who hadn't said a word yet. “Actually, do you mind if I speak with Kenji for a few minutes in private?”
“Of course. I’ll get the tea ready,” you left before disappearing in the kitchen, leaving Kenji alone with his father.
The floor felt like hot coal. So much for escaping his dad’s presence in the bedroom. Hayao waited until you were out of sight before he turned to face Kenji.
“I’m glad you didn’t walk out the second I showed up. Your wife is very kind…” He paused, waiting to see if Kenji would say anything. He gave no response, so Hayao asked, “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”
“What do you want to talk about, Dad?”
“I want to talk about us. You and I. We’ve been…distant for a long time,”
That was putting it lightly, but Kenji held his tongue. His father was probably already aware of that.
“Dad…it’s been twenty years. Twenty years of you suddenly becoming distant from us. You never were around when Mom and I needed you,”
Twenty years. To his father, it might seem like just a fraction of his life, given his old age— a couple of decades.
But to Kenji, those two decades were everything. It was enough time for him to nearly erase his father from his thoughts entirely.
“I know it’s been a long time, but I’m here now, trying to make amends and make up for lost time.”
“Amends? You can’t just show up and expect everything to be fine, Dad. Do you think you can mend everything with just some apologies and small talk?”
“I know it won't fix everything. But I want to be a part of your life again, especially now with my grandchild on the way,”
“So that’s what it’s about? You’re only here because of the baby. Where were you when I was growing up? Why did you stay in Japan and leave me and Mom in America?”
“I always thought about you, Kenji. Always keep an eye on you from afar.” Hayao said gently. “But I admit, the thought of becoming a grandparent has made me realise the importance…the importance of family.”
If he kept an eye on him from afar, why couldn’t he be there in person? Why wasn’t he l there face-to-face, especially when it mattered most? Why wait twenty years?
Hayao continued. “I want to make it up to you, be there for you and for your child.”
Kenji stayed silent after that. The conversation wasn't going anywhere, and there were many unresolved issues that needed to be addressed if any real progress was to be made.
His mind was conflicted with his warring thoughts. One one hand, there was a lingering fear about letting his father in which will lead to further disappointment and pain.
On the other hand, despite harboring a deep resentment towards his father, there was a small part of him that hoped that this might be a chance to heal old wounds.
“Kenji! Can you help me with the tea please?” Your voice tore through the suspension in the room, making Kenji’s suffocation disappear.
“Yeah, coming,” he called back, casting one last glance at his father before heading to the kitchen, leaving the tension in the living room behind.
Kenji found you attending the water on the stove with a teapot and three mugs on a tray. Being in the kitchen with you, away from his father felt like a breath of fresh air— the tension in his shoulders ebbed away, replaced by the comforting normalcy of being alone with you.
“Soo…how’s it going?” you asked, turning to look at him.
“It’s…going I guess.” Kenji sighed deeply. “Talking to my dad is harder than I thought it would be.” He hadn’t fully grasped how many old wounds will be torn open just from his father's presence alone.
“Kenji.” Your voice softened. Kenji's gaze fixated on the hand that was resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.
He brought his hand to hold yours as if anchoring himself. “Yeah…?”
“I know it’s tough, especially with your mom not being around anymore. And I know I don’t know the full story of your childhood and your pain…but he’s the only family we have.”
“Yeah, I know but it’s not easy. It’s hard to trust him when he hasn't been around for twenty years.”
“Do you think you could give him a chance?” You paused for a moment before you added, “If not for yourself, then at least for the baby. I really want them to know their grandparents,” you pleaded, your voice laced with hope.
Kenji closed his eyes as he processed your words. The thought of rebuilding a relationship with his father seems like an insurmountable task, a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.
But, he knew how important this was for you, especially with your parents not around anymore. You wanted the baby to have a connection with their family, which also meant including everyone.
He opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him, waiting patiently for his response. It took a few seconds for him to trust himself to answer, “I…I’ll try, for you and the baby. But honestly, no promises.”
“That’s all I want to hear.” you said, your smile warm and comforting, “I love you…”
Kenji’s heart soared at that, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “I love you too.”
You leaned closer until your lips captured his. Kenji felt his world stop the moment he felt your lips. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
After a moment, he pulled his lips away but he still held you close, resting his forehead on yours. A hint of a smile tugged on his lips but his voice didn’t hide the vulnerability he was feeling, “I’ll try and hear him out, but I know it’s not gonna be a walk in the park.”
There was so much more he wanted to say, but he kept it to himself, instead turning his attention to helping you in the kitchen. He took over brewing the tea, carefully pouring it into the teapot. He made sure not to accidentally jostle you while he set up the tray.
“Thanks for being patient with me, and for understanding. I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Kenji murmured, his voice carrying his gratitude.
“Thank you for not being mad at me for answering his call,” you replied. You were trying to be lighthearted, but he could sense the underlying concern— there was no doubt that you were anxious about how he’d react to the news about his dad
“How can I be mad at you for that? I know you meant well. You just want what’s best for our family.”
“He kept calling, I couldn’t ignore him.”
“I know, you’re too kind for your own good sometimes, you know that.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But seriously, you gotta stop answering unknown calls. Never know who’s on the other line.”
You laughed softly before placing the teapot on the tray. “Do you think I should make anything else?”
Kenji glanced back at the tray with the mugs and the teapot. “Nah, I think what you’ve got is plenty. The old man probably had enough caffeine today anyways.”
“Do you want me to go with you this time?”
Kenji nodded. He knew that having you there with him would make the conversation with his dad easier, especially when he felt on edge. “Yeah, let’s go. And if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand, okay?
Carrying the tray, Kenji felt his nerves calming as you walked beside him. Your quiet support was a steady force, and with your presence, he felt ready to face whatever conversation awaited in the living room.
He matched his steps to yours, moving slowly and carefully so you wouldn’t fall behind. The moment you stepped into the living room, Hayao straightened up, glancing back at your growing belly— which didn't escape Kenji’s notice.
He set the tray down on the table and took a seat on the couch, deliberately keeping his distance from his father.
“I hope green tea is okay for you,” you said, pouring the tea into Hayao’s cup before filling the other two mugs for yourself and Kenji.
Hayao nodded politely, steam curling from the rim as he picked up the cup with the freshly brewed tea. “Yes, thank you. Green tea is fine, I appreciate your hospitality,”
Kenji took his cup and leaned back against the couch, watching the exchange between you and his father. He was grateful the conversation wasn’t circling back to him. Right now, he needed a break from the emotional push and pull.
He kept his expression guarded, making no attempt to interrupt or intervene between the two of you, though he couldn’t ignore the swirl of conflicted emotions simmering beneath the surface.
“So…I hope you don’t mind me being here now,” you said sheepishly.
“No it’s not a bother. This tea is lovely, by the way. Thank you.”
“Of course. It’s all homemade,”
“Ah, that explains why it’s good. My son is very lucky indeed,” Hayao said. Kenji could pick up on the hesitation in his father’s voice, as if he was carefully choosing each word, trying to not overstep.
But the simple topic of your homemade tea seemed to have thawed some of the ice. Hayao took another sip from his cup, his eyes on you as you continued the small talk.
“How are you feeling, though? I imagine pregnancy isn’t easy on the body,”
“Well…I would be a mess without Kenji.” You admitted, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Kenji’s heart throbbed at the gesture.
The ice melted further.
He felt you squeeze his hands softly, a silent nudge to encourage him to join the conversation. He steeled himself before he found his voice. “She’s just being modest. She’s been braving through morning sickness, swollen feet, and all the cravings like a champion,”
“That does sound like a journey. You have a strong woman there, Kenji.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m grateful everyday.” The pride in his voice was palpable, filling the space between them. Even Hayao could feel it from where he was sitting.
“I can see that. Your mother would be very proud to see the man you’ve become.”
And just like that, the ice quickly solidified again.
The words struck Kenji like a blow, his grip tightening around his mug. The pressure in his chest increased as the mention of his mother stirred memories he wasn’t ready to confront.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his voice controlled. “Dad…don’t,” he managed, his tone a mixture of warning and plea.
Hayao noticed the shift immediately, but he didn’t backpedal from the subject. There was a hint of remorse in his eyes, with his voice gentle but firm. “I know it’s a sensitive topic, Kenji. But I meant what I said. She would be proud of the family you’re building right now.”
He couldn’t deny the truth in his dads words, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. The pain was still raw. The topic was still too heavy for him to fully address at the moment.
“I…I need some air,” he muttered, rising abruptly from the couch. The connection between your hands broke, leaving your fingers grasping at empty space.
“Kenji…” you called after him, your voice laced with concern. Your hand looked empty without his. Kenji quickly teared his gaze away.
“I need a moment. I’ll be back,” the words came out more rushed than intended.
A hint of guilt tugged in his heart as he left without another word. He pushed past the door with the cool night air slapped against his face. The door closed behind him with a solid thud, the sound echoing in the sudden silence he left behind.
Kenji slumped onto one of the cold stone benches in the courtyard, dropping his head in his palms. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wished his mother was here right now. She would know exactly what to say, how to untangle the knot of emotions tightening in his chest.
Since the day of her disappearance, it felt like a piece of him had been ripped away, leaving a gaping void that nothing could fill. His entire world had darkened, but he forced himself to continue living, driven by a demanding career that wouldn’t allow him to pause, even when his heart was breaking.
And then things got more complicated. He had been thrusted back into Japan, not by choice but by obligation, to take up his father’s mantle as Ultraman. It was a role he never asked for, a burden he wasn’t ready to carry, especially not with the unresolved pain of his mother’s absence still weighing down on him.
But then he met you.
For the first time, he allowed himself to be swept away by someone who truly saw him, not just the hero or the star baseball player he was expected to be. You didn’t realise it, but you had a way of pulling him back from the edge. He wished he could tell you how much that meant to him, but he was never good at expressing it.
Now, with a child on the way— his child, who you were carrying and nurturing— he felt more helpless than ever. How could a baby rely on him when he couldn’t even keep his own emotions in check? How could he be a father when he crumbled at the mere mention of his mother?
The soft sound of the door opening could be heard from behind, but Kenji didn’t bother to look up. He knew it was you. His father wouldn’t be so thoughtless as to follow him after what had just happened.
“Kenji?” you called out softly, your footsteps growing closer. Kenji didn’t respond, his face still buried in his palm.
“Oh, Ken…” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. Kenji let out a weary sigh but didn’t look up.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Dad?” His voice came out rough, his irritation from earlier still simmering.
You sat down beside him, the bench cool beneath you. “No…not with you feeling like this,”
Kenji’s shoulders tensed, still refusing to meet your gaze. He was trembling slightly, trying to keep his emotions at bay.
“I’m fine.” he said through gritted teeth, an obvious contradiction to his current state.
“Not with that tone, you’re not.”
“And so what if I’m not fine? What’s it to you anyways?” He snapped, his voice sharp like a razor blade. He regretted it immediately, hating himself for directing his frustration at you. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his messy relationship with his father.
But you could see right through his bullshit, as always. “Come here.” you coaxed, your voice soft and inviting. Kenji hesitated, his eyes flickered up to yours for the first time. He saw the warmth in your gaze that seemed to glow even under the darkness of the night with your open arms waiting to embrace him.
For a moment, his stubbornness kept him rooted in place, his pride demanding to stay strong, stay distant. But the comfort you offered was too tempting.
He turned his gaze away. “Why should I?”
“Let me hold you.” you whispered, arms still open for him.
Kenji looked back at you again, feeling his resolve weaken. He knew he couldn’t resist you— not when you were offering him the solace he desperately craved. He’d be a fool to reject it. With a heavy sigh, he gave in.
“Fine…” he shifted himself closer until he was in your embrace. He rested his head against your chest, his body relaxed as your warmth surrounded him.
The soft curve of your pregnancy bump nestled between the two of you, a reminder of the life brewing inside of you.
“Oh Kenji…” you murmured, gently stroking his face as he nuzzled into your neck. The rhythm of your heartbeat and the presence of the baby’s bump had a grounding effect on him. You felt like home— everything he needed right now.
The remorse from his earlier harsh tone towards you, combined with the aching absence of his mother, came crashing down. It was enough to shatter his pride as he leaned into your touch.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice quivering with emotion.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you rubbed his back, soothing his frying nerves.
He didn’t realise how stiff his body was until he finally allowed him to relax in your embrace. It was rare for him to be this vulnerable, but being held like this in your arms, it was easy to let his guard down.
All the pent up pain and suffering he’d been carrying for years finally found release through his tears. He let out a soft sob against your neck, the fabric of your shirt growing damp.
After a long, quiet moment, you spoke again, “This is going to be more complicated than I imagined.”
“It’s all so complicated,” he echoed.
“I know…do you think we can resolve things before the baby arrives?”
“I..I don’t think I can fix everything…not with all that’s happening. But I don’t want our child to grow up in a house filled with tension.” Kenji admitted slowly.
“Me neither,” you agreed, the shared concern binding you closer.
“I’ll try. I’ll try to fix things. But I don’t even know where to start…it’s been too long…” his voice wavered with the remnant of his sobs. Yet, for once, he didn’t feel embarrassed about it this time. The weight of responsibility to make things right for the baby was daunting.
You pressed a kiss to his forehead, filling him with a sense of reassurance. “We don’t have to fix everything tonight.”
“…you’re right.”
“But maybe we can at least end things on a civil note.”
Kenji nodded mutely, still feeling the residue of his tears but more at peace with his emotions now.
He pulled away from you and wiped his face with the back of his hands, smearing the last of his tears away.
“Are you okay with going back inside, or do you need more time?” You asked gently.
Kenji took a few steady breaths, his crying fully subsided. He met your gaze, then glanced back at the house, a newfound sense of resignation washing over him. “I’m okay…let’s head back,”
“Okay….We don’t want to keep you dad waiting any longer,”
Kenji stood from his seat and soothed his hair, trying to make himself look a little more presentable. He knew his eyes were probably red, and he might still look a bit disheveled from crying, but he was ready to face what came next.
You both walked back into the living room, hand in hand. Hayao looked up as you returned and sat down, his eyes briefly flickering over Kenji’s appearance.
Kenji was grateful his father didn’t comment on his puffy eyes.
“Sorry for the wait,” you said apologetically.
Hayao shook his head, a weary smile on his lips. “No need to apologise, dear. It needed to happen.”
Silence settled over the room for a moment. Kenji’s muscles were still rigid and his fingers subconsciously gripped your hand a little tighter.
Hayao gaze flickered between the two of you. He let out a quiet sigh, his action heavy with regret. “I suppose I should start, hm?”
Kenji nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Both of your gazes bore onto Hayao, waiting for what he was about to say.
“I…I know I haven’t been the best father to you, Kenji. I’ve been hard on you, too focused on Ultraman…I’ve put too much pressure on you and neglected everything else.” Hayao said softly, sadness evident in his eyes.
Kenji felt a jolt of surprise listening to his father. He didn’t let his guard down fully, but hearing his father’s self-awareness stirred something in him. Maybe it was the unexpected acknowledgment of his shortcomings as a parent.
Hayao continued, “Looking back, I realised I've made a lot of mistakes. I’ve been more of a boss than a father,”
Kenji felt the weight of his dads words, his remorse clear in his voice. But Kenji knew that years of tension and resentment couldn’t be fixed with just a few words of apology.
“I…don’t expect forgiveness, of course. I know I can’t turn back time, but I wanted to apologise to both of you.”
Kenji struggled to find the right words until he felt the reassuring grip of your hand, your thumb gently stroking over his knuckles. The small gesture helped calm some of the tension.
Finally, he spoke, his voice slightly strained, “I…I appreciate the apology, Dad. It’s a start.”
The rest of the conversation revolves around the future and the baby, with the interaction feeling more natural. The tension between Kenji and Hayao had eased somewhat.
At one point, Hayao asked about how Kenji planned to juggle his career, fatherhood and his Ultraman duties. Kenji explained that you’d both discussed this early in your marriage and were ready to handle the challenges.
But the conversation was cut short when you let out a sudden hiss from pain. Immediately, Kenji’s full attention was on you on high alert.
“Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his concern. When you didn’t respond right away, his worry deepened.
“Is it the baby kicking?” he asked.
You nodded, struggling to speak through the discomfort.
Kenji placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice soft but steady. “Easy, take a deep breath. The kicks might feel uncomfortable, but it’s a good sign the baby’s healthy.”
“Ah…Ken…ji…” you stuttered, the pain evident in your voice. His brows furrowed with worry, and instinctively rubbed circles over your belly.
“I’m here,” he reassured you. “Do you need anything? Water? Some more pillows?”
He almost forgot about his dad’s presence until he quickly stood from his seat and approached you. His expression was serious, his eyes flickering back to you and you bump.
“I’m going to get you a warm compress. It might help ease some of the discomfort,” Hayao said quickly, his voice still firm.
“Yeah…ah, okay.” You managed.
Hayao nodded and left the room to fetch the warm compress. Kenji stayed beside you, his hand squeezing yours gently. “Just hang in there okay? You’re doing great. We’re almost through the third trimester and it’ll all be worth it.”
“Kenji…”
His heart skipped a beat. “Is the pain getting worse?”
“I feel something wet,”
Kenji froze. You couldn’t possibly mean…? No. He had to ask if he heard that correctly.
“Wet? Are you sweating or…?” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air. He didn’t want to think about your water breaking now, especially when you still had several weeks until your due date.
“Where’s Hayao?”
Kenji’s stress only deepened further when you didn’t answer his question. “Dad’s still getting the compress…are you sure you’re feeling something wet?”
“Yes.”
“Okay…don’t panic. We’ll figure this out. Do you feel any cramps or contractions?”
You shook your head. But there was still the matter of the wet sensation.
Kenji glanced towards the door, where his dad had disappeared. Whether he liked it or not, he really needed his dad right now— someone with experience, even if their relationship were strained.
He gazed back at you, his hands on your bump. “I think I peed…” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.
Kenji blinked in surprise, then his lips twitched up into a smile. The stress that had been coiled right within him unraveled almost instantly. Relief washed over him, and he felt a sudden urge to laugh at the situation.
It was such a normal, human moment— a reminder that despite the chaos, you were both still two people trying to navigate through this together.
“Oh, thank God. For a second I thought…” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s okay, don’t worry. It happens sometimes during pregnancy, especially at this stage. Dad will be back with the compress for the kicks, alright? Just hang in there.”
“I feel gross,” you muttered, voice laced with frustration.
Kenji quickly shook his head immediately, his tone gentle and reassuring. “No, don’t say that. These things happen, it’s completely normal. You’re doing an amazing job.”
Just as he finished speaking, Hayao returned swiftly, the warm compress in his hand. “I’m back. What’s happening?”
Kenji’s gaze met his father’s, his expression stayed neutral, “She felt something wet, but she just accidentally peed herself a bit from the baby’s kicking,” Kenji explained. “She’s not experiencing any contractions, though.”
Too embarrassed to look up, you kept your head low, hiding your face behind your hands.
Hayao chuckled softly, his expression warm with understanding. “It’s okay, dear. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Hayao stepped forward with the compress and settled beside you. He placed the compress over your bump, the warmth seeping through the fabric. “This should help alleviate the kicking, at least a little.”
Kenji watched as your face softened, the tension in your body visibly uncoiling. He smiled tenderly, “See? The compress is working, huh?” You’ll feel better in no time,”
“My clothes are soiled…” you whimpered.
“Don’t worry about that,” Hayao reassured you.“We’ll get you cleaned up once everything’s under control, okay? For now, just focus on resting and letting the compress its job,”
Kenji nodded in agreement, “Once the kicking settles down, we’ll get you cleaned up. A nice shower and a change of fresh, dry clothes will make you feel a lot better,”
Kenji’s mind drifted back to everything that had transpired in the past few minutes— from the moment you both stepped inside the house to now.
He couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy that crept in him as he observed his father handling the situation so seamlessly. Despite his fathers help being a relief, it also stirred some doubt within him: Was he doing enough for you?
The man who has always been distant was now stepping in. Was his father silently judging him?
The mixed emotions were overwhelming. On one hand, Kenji was grateful— he wasn’t alone when caring for you. On the other, it was unsettling to have his father step into the role Kenji had felt it was his to bear.
Could this be a change in their relationship, or was this just a temporary reprieve from the years of coldness?
There was no point in overthinking, Kenji thought to himself. Forcing things to change between them could do more harm than good. For now, it was best to let things evolve on its own.
Once the kicking had subsided and you were feeling more comfortable, Kenji carefully helped you to the bathroom. He waited as you emptied your bladder, then gently guided you into the shower.
After you were dressed in fresh clothes, Kenji led you to the bedroom. He helped you onto the bed, making sure you were settled in the right position for comfort. Your eyelids grew heavy as you slowly fell asleep.
“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he whispered before planting a kiss on your forehead. He quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.
Outside he found his father waiting. The mere sight of him standing there brought back the knot of emotions Kenji had only just managed to unravel.
Kenji’s searched in his father’s expression for any hint of where things stood between them now. After a few heartbeats, Kenji opened his mouth to speak, his voice subdued.
“She’s asleep,” Kenji simply stated.
Hayao nodded, “That’s good, let her rest. She needs it after what happened tonight,”
Kenji exhaled, a heavy breath escaped him, “Yeah…I can’t help but worry for her. What if something serious had happened?”
Hayao’s tone was gentle as he replied, “I understand your worry. But she’s a strong one, and the baby is healthy. Trust in that, Kenji. She needs your support more than ever right now,”
Kenji knew his father was right, but his protective instincts that came with being both a husband and soon-to-be father made it difficult to fully ease his mind.
“You’re right, she is strong. I just…I just wish there was more I could do for her,” He glanced back at the door, thinking of you asleep inside. “I feel helpless sometimes, watching her go through all of this.”
Hayao placed his hand on Kenji’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. For once, Kenji didn’t feel the usual urge to flinch. Instead he welcomed the touch, finding an unexpected comfort in his father’s gestures.
“Believe me, I know how you feel. Watching the mother of your child go through pregnancy can be excruciating. But your support and your presence is the most important thing you can’t offer.”
This was something Kenji had never spoken about with anyone, not even with you. He kept his fear and doubts to himself, not wanting to burden you when you were focusing on nurturing the baby.
But now, standing with his father, he found himself opening up in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
But how ironic it was that he was comfortable enough to confide with his father— the same man that had once been a distant figure. But perhaps working together to ease your discomfort was what made things easier.
His father had been through this before, and likely, he had been just as uncertain and vulnerable. The realisation brought a surge of confidence in Kenji.
“I’ll be there for her,” Kenji said, more to himself than his father. “No matter what.”
A few hours later, Kenji got himself ready for bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been long and filled with unexpected turns, but finally, he could see the end of it. As he slid under the covers, he noticed you stirred, your eyes fluttering open.
Kenji smiled softly. “Hey, sleepyhead. You’re awake,” he murmured softly, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. “How are you feeling?”
You slowly sat up, rubbing some of the sleep from your eyes. “Groggy…” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep.
Kenji chuckled softly. “Groggy, huh? Well you did sleep for a while. Take your time.” He leaned closer, his concern slipping back into his voice. “How’s the baby? Any more kicking?”
You shook your head slightly, stretching your arms above you with your belly arching as your body moved. “Not at the moment,” you said with a small sigh. “Has your dad left?”
“Yeah, he mentioned he had some important calls to make back home,” Kenji hesitated for a moment, “Why? Are you feeling okay? Do you need something from him?”
“No,” you replied. “I just wanted to know how are things with him now,”
Kenji sighed, ranking a hand through his hair. “Things between me and dad have been, well, better than before. We’re still working through some stuff, but tonight…was different.”
“You both make a good team, you know. The way you were both quick to attend to my aches,” you said softly.
Kenji smiled, feeling a swell of emotions at your words— mostly pride mingled with relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Who knew a baby would bring us both together,” he rested his hands over your belly.
At that moment it dawned on him just how much the baby had done to bridge the gap between him and his father. This tiny unborn child had given them both a common purpose and a reason to put aside their differences and focused on what truly mattered.
You leaned against the pillows. “Come here,” you said, pulling him closer.
Kenji slipped further into the covers, his arms wrapped around you protectively. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in your comforting scent.
As you drifted back to sleep, Kenji held you close and ran his hand over your belly, his heart full.
He knew the road wasn’t going to be easy, but at that moment, he felt ready. If he could build a better relationship with his father, he felt like he could conquer anything, as long as you were by his side.
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @gyusimp @aise-30 @popmagical @jellybonbons @coinduck
@rosaliin-blog @stfuchaase @blooscool @despacito-uwu16
Phew finally
Ayrus xoxo
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communicationthroughlyrics · 4 months ago
Text
I Can't Hide The Way I'm Feelin' - Pt. 2
You have a propensity for tardiness, and your new interim professor will have none of it.
A/N: Whomp. Pure p*rn, if I'm being honest. Requested by to @gswha. You can read Pt. 1 HERE
TW: 18+ only, Intersex reader, mild choking, multiple orgasms, Nat just being a savage sex fiend.
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As you walked into class on Monday, you noticed that she was dressed differently. Her usual sharp business attire was replaced by a more casual ensemble, a tight black sweater and a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin. You felt a heat rising from your chest to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze. The class was eerily quiet as you took your seat, the only sound was the rustle of pages and the occasional cough.
"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice as sharp as ever. You looked up, and she was holding your assignments in her hand. "I've reviewed your work. It's... adequate." The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to continue. "But we both know you can do better." She paused, her eyes scanning the room before returning to you. "If you wish to improve your grade, I suggest you visit me during office hours."
You felt your heart sink. You had done your best to impress her, to show her that you weren't the slacker she thought you were. But apparently, it wasn't enough. The rest of class passed in a blur, her words echoing in your mind. What more could she possibly want from you?
As the bell finally rang, you packed up your things and made your way out of the classroom, your mind racing. You hadn't even made it to the hallway before you felt a hand on your arm. It was her, Dr. Romanoff. "My office, now," she said, her grip firm. You followed her, unsure of what to expect.
You followed the authoritative click of her heels, her grip firm on your bicep as she pushed you in the direction she wanted. When you reached her office, she didn't bother with pleasantries. She closed the door behind you, the sound echoing through the hallway.
"Take a seat, Ms. Y/N," she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. You did as you were told, the anticipation building in your stomach like a coiled spring. "I've noticed an...improvement in your behavior, and to be honest, your work was some of the best I've seen for a while." She placed the assignments down with a smack, her eyes meeting yours, challenging you to argue.
The confusion that must have crept onto your features was clear as day, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. The fabric of her sweater stretched tightly across her breasts, and you couldn't help but steal a glance before redirecting your gaze.
The look on her face told you that she had caught you staring, a smirk gracing her features. "Do you remember our conversation on Saturday, Y/N?" she asked, her voice a low purr that made you want to squirm in your seat.
"Yeah, I do," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Good," she said, her eyes raking over you. "I've had a small portion of that conversation playing in my head all weekend, Y/N," She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. "And I've come to a decision. You need a more... personal form of motivation to truly reach your potential. However, I have to know- who is it that holds your attention so dearly?"
You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Did she know? "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stuttered, trying to play it cool. But she wasn't buying it.
"Don't lie to me, Y/N," she said, her voice firm. "I know you've been thinking about me. And frankly, I've been thinking about you too."
The room felt like it was closing in on you, her words a punch to the gut. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it was no use. "What do you mean?" you managed to croak out.
"I mean," she began, her voice dropping to a whisper, "that I've noticed the way you look at me in class, the way you react to my words. And I must admit, it's intriguing." She leaned closer, her eyes searching yours. "I think you need more than just a firm hand to keep you in line. I think you need...something else."
The air in the room was charged with something unspoken, something that made your palms sweat and your heart race. "What are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Romanoff's smile grew wider, predatory. "I'm saying that perhaps we can come to an...understanding," she said, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "One that will benefit us both."
You sat there, your mind racing, trying to piece together what she was insinuating. Was she...was she flirting with you? The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. You had never been in a situation like this before, with a teacher, no less. You let a wry smile creep across your face, trying to play it cool. "What kind of understanding are we talking about here, Dr. Romanoff?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned even closer, her breath hot on your face. "The kind where I give you the attention you so clearly crave, and in return, you give me the one thing I've wanted since the moment I laid eyes on you."
You felt your heart skip a beat. "And what could you have possibly wanted since you met me?" you asked, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. Your heart felt like is was about to pound out of your chest, as she stood from behind her desk, walking to the front of it, closing some of the distance between you. She leaned back against the oak surface, crossing her arms and pushing her chest out more.
"Your full attention, Y/N," she replied, her eyes never leaving yours. "And perhaps a bit more."
You swallowed hard, trying to process what she was saying. This was a line you never thought you'd cross, but the temptation was too strong. "Well, Dr. Romanoff," you began, trying to sound as confident as possible, "I have to know what it is you've been wanting me to do for me to do a damn thing about it."
Her smile grew, and she leaned even closer, so close you could feel her breath on your neck. "Is that a yes?" she murmured her voice a siren's call that made your body respond in ways you couldn't ignore.
In a surge of confidence, you stood, completely closing the gap between the both of you. You leaned in, placing your hands on either side of her body, trapping her in front of you. "What's it going to be, Natasha?"
Her eyes widened slightly at your boldness, but the spark of desire grew in her gaze. "If we do this," she whispered, "you're mine, Y/N. In and out of the classroom. No more games, no more slacking off." You groaned at her command, the thought of being hers sent a pulse through your awakening sex.
"Only if," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "If I'm going to be yours, I want all of you. No holding back." You leaned in, your face a mere inch from hers, challenging her to deny you.
Her eyes searched yours, the storm clouds within them swirling with a mix of desire and something darker. "You have no idea what you're asking for," she murmured, but the heat in her voice betrayed her interest.
"Neither do you, Romanoff," you whispered, your voice a seductive challenge. You could feel the thick and palpable tension between you as it hung in the air, charged with a current of something neither of you could ignore. She stared at you, her expression unreadable, but the heat in her gaze was unmistakable.
"Well, Y/N," she began, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "If you want all of me, you'll have to earn it. You'll prove to me that you're worthy of my attention."
You felt a thrill at her words, the challenge in her eyes setting something alight within you. "How do I do that?" you asked, your voice a barely contained growl. She stood up, pressing herself closer to you, your chests now touching and your faces mere inches apart. You try to ignore the spark that erupts everywhere she is in contact with your body, but it is slowly overtaking your senses, and all rationality.
"I think," she stuck her finger in the center of your chest, tracing an absentminded pattern all over, making you internally groan. "That you need to show me what I've heard so much about, Y/N." Her eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt. "Your reputation precedes you." She bites her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and lips. "I want to see if you can live up to it."
You smirked, feeling the heat from her body and the way she leaned into you, making you want to devour her whole. "Is that all?" You whispered back, leaning in closer to her ear, making her shiver. "Because I've got more than just a reputation, Natasha." She moaned in your ear at the admission, her body visibly trembling against yours.
Without another word, she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in your eyes. Her tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth, leaving no room for doubt. You felt your knees go weak and had to hold onto the desk to keep from falling. Her fingers wound thier way through your hair, pulling slightly to cause you to moan into the kiss.
Her hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You couldn't help but respond, pushing closer, your hands sliding up her sides to rest on her hips. You felt her tighten her grip on you, her nails digging into your skin just enough to let you know she was serious.
The kiss grew more intense, and you could feel your control slipping away. You had never felt this way about a teacher before, but Dr. Romanoff was unlike anyone you had ever met. Her confidence and power were intoxicating, and the way she looked at you made you feel like the most important person in the world.
As you broke away for air, she stepped back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's a start," she murmured, her voice a mix of challenge and desire. "But I need to see more." She turned and walked to the door of her office, swinging the lock shut and sliding a chair under the handle. Her hips swaying with an allure that was impossible to ignore as she sauntered around the room.
She made her way back in front of you, her eyes wandering all over your frame, and pausing on the straining bulge in your jeans. She smirked and took a step closer, her hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw. "Oh, how I have thought and dreamed about this, Y/N."
Her touch was like a spark to dry kindling, setting your body alight with a need that was unbearable. You reached up and grabbed her hand, pressing it harder against your skin, feeling the beat of your pulse beneath her fingertips. "Show me," you breathed. "Show me how much."
With a smirk that could melt the Arctic, she stepped closer, pressing her body against yours. Your hands roamed over her curves, feeling the soft fabric of her sweater and the firmness beneath. She gasped as you found the hem and slid your hands up, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. Her hand found its way to your waistband, deftly unbuckling your belt and popping the button of your jeans. The sound of the zipper was like a gunshot in the quiet room.
You stepped back slightly, allowing her to push your jeans and boxers down, your erection springing free. She took you in her hand, stroking you gently, her eyes never leaving yours. The look of power in her gaze was something you had never seen before, and it was driving you wild. You reached for her sweater, tugging it over her head and revealing the lacy black bra beneath. Her breasts were full and heavy, begging to be freed.
With trembling hands, you unclipped the clasp and watched as the material fell away, revealing her to you. She was perfection, her skin pale and unblemished, her nipples pink and hard from your touch. You bent down, taking one in your mouth, her gasp making your cock throb in her hand. You teased and suckled, feeling her hand tighten around you as she moaned your name.
Her other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as she ground her hips against yours. The friction was maddening, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer. You reached behind her, sliding her jeans down her legs, taking in the sight of her in just her lacy thong. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband and slid it down, revealing the wetness that had gathered between her thighs. She was ready for you, and the sight made you growl with need.
You knelt before her, spreading her legs apart. Your tongue darted out to taste her, and she moaned your name again. You lapped at her folds, feeling her shiver and buck against your mouth. Her taste was like nothing you had ever experienced before, sweet and salty and all hers. You pushed a finger inside her, feeling her tighten around you, her walls clenching as she grew closer to climax.
Her hand tightened in your hair, guiding you as you worked her body, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. You felt the tension in her legs and knew she was close. You added another finger, pumping them in and out as you flicked your tongue over her clit. She was so wet, so hot, and it was all for you.
You pulled away just as she was reaching her peak, leaving her panting and gasping for breath. "Not yet," you whispered against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her thighs. "I want to feel you come around me."
Her eyes blazed with need as she reached down, taking your hand and guiding it to her wetness. "Take me, Y/N," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I need you inside me."
Without wasting another moment, you stood and positioned yourself at her entrance. You could feel the heat of her desire, and you knew she was ready. You pushed into her slowly, feeling her walls tighten around you as she took you in. She was so wet, so tight, and the feeling was more than you could handle. You groaned as you filled her, feeling her body quiver in anticipation.
You began to move, setting a rhythm that had her moaning with every thrust. Her nails dug into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the only sound other than the muffled cries of pleasure that spilled from her lips.
Her breathing grew more ragged, her hips moving in time with yours. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around you like a vice. You reached between your bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it with your thumb as you thrust deeper. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed out your name as she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.
The feeling of her contracting around you was too much, and you followed her over the edge, filling her with your release. You held onto her tightly, your breath coming in gasps as you rode out the waves of pleasure. When it was over, you leaned against her, both of you panting and sweaty.
You pulled out slowly, watching as she shivered at the loss of you inside her. You bent down and kissed her softly, tasting the salt of her skin. "You're mine now," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.
"Always have been," you replied, a smug smile playing on your lips. You pulled her into a standing position and kissed her again, her legs wobbly beneath her. She broke away, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Good," she said, her voice a low purr. "Now, let's see if you can handle the rest of what I have planned for you." You groaned as she lowered herself between your legs, taking all of you into her mouth, moaning around your length as she tasted her cum all over your shaft, mixed with yours. The sensation was overwhelming, and you had to hold onto the desk for support.
Her tongue swirled around the head of your cock, pausing as she felt the ball of your piercing on the surface of her tongue. She looked up at you with a knowing smile, her eyes full of mischief. You couldn't believe that you had finally given in to the temptation that had been brewing between the two of you for months. The way she took you in her mouth was like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was clear she knew exactly what she was doing.
You felt your knees wobble as she deep-throated you, her cheeks hollowing out with every bob of her head. Her hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as she worked you with a skill that was both surprising and incredibly erotic. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out a low moan, your hands threading through her hair. "Fuck, Natasha."
Her grip tightened as she felt you swell, her movements becoming more urgent. She knew you were close, and she wasn't about to let up. She hummed around you, the vibration sending you into overdrive, your grip tightening on her fiery hair as you began to thrust into her throat. You came hard, filling her mouth with your release, and she swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving yours.
When you had finished, she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I've wanted to do that since the first day of class," she said, her voice husky with desire. You couldn't help but chuckle, the situation so intense and yet so unexpectedly intimate.
"Well, I'm sure there's more where that came from," you said, your voice still shaky from the orgasm. She leaned in and kissed you, her tongue sliding against yours, sharing the taste of you with you. It was a claiming kiss, one that left no doubt in your mind that she was now in charge.
Her hands slid down your body, taking in the sight of you, naked and hard for her again. "Impressive," she murmured, her eyes lingering on your cock. "But now it's my turn," she said, a smirk playing on her lips. You watched as she wiped her desk clean, climbing onto it, her legs spread wide, revealing the wetness that glistened between her thighs, her arousal dripping onto the surface below. She leaned back on her elbows, inviting you closer.
You groaned at the sight, slowly pumping your length as you rested the other hand on her ass, slapping it. "You're so fucking wet for me," you said, your voice thick with lust. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving yours as she spread herself wider.
"I want you to fuck me like you mean it, Y/N," she instructed her voice a mix of need and command. You didn't need any more encouragement than that. You stepped closer, aligning yourself with her slick entrance, and pushed in. She was so tight, so hot, it was like sliding into heaven. She gasped as you filled her, her nails digging into the desk. You set a punishing pace, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. She moaned your name, her back arching as she met you stroke for stroke.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, you pulled her back to you by her hair, her back meeting your heaving chest. You reached up with your other hand, easily sliding over her glistening torso, tweaking her hardened nipple between your fingers. You could feel her tightening around you, her walls clenching as she neared her climax. You slid your hand down, playing with her clit, feeling her shiver and whimper.
"Come for me, detka," you whispered, your voice a dark command. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at you, her pupils blown wide with desire.
"Y/N," she breathed, her voice a plea. And with one final, powerful thrust, she shattered around you, her body convulsing as she screamed out your name. You watched in awe as she came, her pussy milking your cock, her orgasm so intense it brought you to the brink. With a roar, you followed her over the edge, filling her with your release. She took it all, her body pulsing around you as you emptied into her. When it was over, you both collapsed onto the desk, panting and sweaty.
It took a minute for her to recover before she turned her head to look at you. "When," she panted, still catching her breath. "When did you learn Russian?"
You chuckled, still trying to recover from the intensity of the moment. "I've always had a knack for languages," you replied, leaning down to kiss her neck. She shivered at the contact, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Plus, I have a professor who had me do lots of research work, so I picked up on a few things."
Without another word, she turned around, spreading her legs to straddle you, pulling you closer to her as you stood in between her toned thighs. You stepped up to her, your cock twitching with anticipation. You reached down and slid into her, feeling her tighten around you again. She moaned, her head dropping to your chest. "Fuck, Y/N!"
You began to move, your hips slapping against hers as you took her on the edge of her desk. She was so wet, so hot, and the way she felt around you was driving you wild. You reached down, playing with her clit as you pounded into her, feeling her get closer and closer to another orgasm. Her moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of our passion. You could feel her muscles tightening around you, her body begging for release.
Her nails dug into your shoulders as she arched her back, her breasts pressing against your chest. You leaned down and took one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking and biting gently, making her whimper. Her movements grew erratic, her hips bucking against yours as she chased her climax. You felt it building, her walls milking you as her orgasm neared. You began to pepper bites and kisses up and down her throat, as she let her head fall backward, her hair forming a red curtain behind her.
"Don't stop," she panted, her voice thick with desire. "Please, don't stop." You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her muscles clenching as she reached the peak. You didn't stop, you couldn't. You drove into her harder, feeling the desk wobble beneath you. Wrapping your arms around her back, your hands resting on her shoulders, you were able to muscle her up, pistoning into her at an obscene rate. Her legs tightened around your waist, her nails digging into your skin as she threw her head towards your shoulder, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.
Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, making her entire body convulse around you. You felt yourself grow even harder if that was possible. "Fuck," you grunted, the expletive forced from your chest. You didn't know if you could hold out much longer. The way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she sounded, it was all too much. You felt your own orgasm building, the pressure at the base of your spine growing with every thrust.
Her eyes flew open and she looked at you, a wild look in her eyes. "I'm going to come," she warned her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. You didn't stop, couldn't stop. You pounded into her, her moans spurring you on as you chased your own release. And then it hit you, a white-hot burst of pleasure that shot through your body like lightning. You came inside her, filling her up with your seed, your body shaking with the intensity of it all.
Her legs tightened around your waist, and she threw her head back, her throat exposed to you as she let out a scream of pure ecstasy. You leaned down and kissed her neck, feeling her pulse racing beneath your lips. You could feel her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her climax as you slowly pulled out, your cock still semi-hard and slick with her juices.
You slowly pulled out of her, resting her on the desk behind. She was a mess of sticky sweat and lust, her chest heaving with every ragged breath she took. You took a moment to admire her, sprawled out like a painting of a conquered goddess, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed over with satisfaction. You couldn't resist leaning in for one more kiss, tasting the salt of your combined sweat, the sweetness of her lip gloss, and the lingering taste of your cum on her tongue.
"Again," she breathed against your lips, her voice a needy whine. You smirked, feeling the beginnings of your arousal stirring once more. How could you resist such an offer?
"Only if I get to taste you, darling." You smirked, bending down to kiss her neck, your teeth grazing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Dr. Romanoff nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut as you turned her onto her back, her legs still hanging over the edge of the desk. You stepped between them, pushing her thighs apart. The sight of her, glistening and open for you, was almost too much to handle.
You leaned in, your tongue tracing the line of her folds, tasting the remnants of your earlier passion. She gasped, her hips jerking as you found her clit with the tip of your tongue. You took it into your mouth, sucking gently, feeling her body tense beneath you. Her hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, urging you on. The sound of her moans was like music to your ears, driving you almost near madness.
Her legs wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer as you worked your magic. Her hips began to rock against your face, her movements growing more erratic as you pushed her closer to the edge. You grabbed a firm hold on her hips. pinning her to the desk as your tongue began to probe her leaking entrance. She was so wet, and the scent of her arousal was driving you wild. You felt yourself growing hard again, your cock aching to be inside her once more. Trying to quell the desire to sheath yourself inside of her, you inserted two fingers into her, continuing your assault on her clit as you probed her soft, spongy interior.
Her walls tightened around your digits, her moans growing louder as she neared climax. You felt her whole body tense and knew she was close. With one final flick of your tongue, you felt her release. She bucked against your face, her pussy pulsing around your fingers as she came hard. You swallowed her juices greedily, feeling your cock throb with every pulse of her orgasm.
You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. She looked up at you, her eyes glazed with pleasure, and whispered, "More." You chuckled darkly, moving back between her legs, your cock now fully erect and ready to claim her once again. This time, you didn't hold back, slamming into her without mercy. She took it all, her legs wrapped around you, her nails digging into your back. A guttural moan left her, her lack of shame about being in the middle of a university only spurring you further.
Her breasts bounced with every thrust, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. The scent of arousal mingled with the faint aroma of books and dust, creating an intoxicating cocktail that only served to fuel the fire burning between you. Your hips moved with a primal instinct, the desk beneath you groaning in protest with every pound. You willed your hips to stop, only for a moment, causing the redhead to mewl and writhe beneath you. You shifted her, her legs locking behind you as she tried to pull you in deeper. You swiftly picked her up, and walked over to one of the armchairs in the office, sitting yourself down, with her on top.
"I wanna see you ride me, baby," you growled in her ear, sucking her earlobe in between your teeth. Dr. Romanoff's eyes lit up with excitement, and she straddled you, her slick pussy sliding down your shaft with ease. She began to bounce up and down, her movements growing more confident and wild with every moan that left her lips. You could feel her pussy clench around you, her walls tightening as she approached her peak. Your hands found her hips, guiding her, urging her to go faster, to take all of you. You slipped one hand up, palming one of her breasts, bringing your mouth to the other.
Her moans grew louder, her breathing more ragged as she bounced on your cock. You could feel her orgasm building, her movements growing more erratic as she chased the feeling. You squeezed her breast, rolling the nipple between your thumb and forefinger, eliciting a gasp from her. She leaned back, her hands on your shoulders for balance, her eyes never leaving yours. The sight of her riding you was almost too much to handle, her pussy gripping you like a vice, her ass bouncing with every downward thrust.
"Fuck, you look so good like this, Dr. Romanoff," you taunted, only spurring her on further.
Her hips rolled and gyrated, taking you in deeper with every downward thrust. The wet sounds of your skin slapping together echoed through the office, and you could feel the chair's cushion growing damp with your combined juices. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against your chest.
"Fuck me, Y/N," she moaned, her voice a sweet symphony of need and desire. "Make me scream your name again." You groaned, wrapping one hand around her throat,  the other around her waist, as you set a relentless pace that had both of you on the edge of oblivion. Her movements grew more frantic, her breathing shallow and erratic. The pressure in her core built, her muscles tightening around your cock with every stroke. You met every gyration of her hips with a powerful thrust of your own, your grunts and her moans filling the silence between your skin slapping together.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her nails dug into your shoulders as she climaxed. Her pussy clamped down on you like a vice, her juices flooding over your shaft and her walls quivering around you. "Fuck! Y/N!" she screamed into the office around her. The intensity of her orgasm washed over you, and you could feel yourself on the brink. You didn't stop, didn't dare. Instead, you quickened your pace, pushing her further, watching her face contort with pleasure and pain as she came again and again. Her legs tightened around your waist, her heels digging into your back, urging you to go deeper, harder.
You pulled out of her briefly, flipping her over on the floor in front of the chair so that she had her leg flung over your shoulder, and you could hit that sweet spot with every thrust. You didn't give her a chance to recover before you slammed back into her, filling her completely. She was soaking wet, and the sound of your skin slapping against hers was the sweetest symphony of pleasure and desire. You grabbed her hips, pulling her back to meet every thrust, her moans turning into screams of ecstasy. The slap of flesh echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of your heavy breathing. You could feel her tightening around you, her pussy gripping you as she neared another climax.
Your hand snaked around her throat, not too tightly but enough to add an edge to the already intense moment. You squeezed gently, feeling her pulse against your fingertips, her eyes snapping to yours, wide with a mix of fear and excitement. You could tell she liked it a little rough, and the way she responded only turned you on more. "Come for me," you ordered, your voice low and demanding. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed your name as she shuddered around your cock, her orgasm sending waves of pleasure through her body. The feeling of her essence spraying around your throbbing member, milking you towards your oblivion sent you over the edge, your hips stuttering as you collapsed on top of her.
Her legs quivered as she came down from the high, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, feeling her pulse slow down. You pulled out of her gently, watching as your cum dripped out of her still-spasming pussy. The sight was obscene, but incredibly erotic, making you want to take her again and again. You looked up at her, a smug smile playing on your lips. "Good girl," you murmured, stroking her hair.
Dr. Romanoff pushed herself up onto her elbows, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "You know, Y/N," she said, her voice a mix of breathlessness and amusement, "you really are a quick learner.” You had never felt so alive, so desired. It was a power exchange that you never knew existed, and you reveled in it. You were hers, and she was yours, and the thought was as thrilling as it was terrifying.
As the shadows grew long outside her office window, she finally pulled away, her chest heaving with exertion. "I think," she murmured, her voice thick with desire, "that we've made a good start.” You nodded, unable to form coherent words. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her voice a promise of more to come.
416 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 8 months ago
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you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!
this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️
Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags:  +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk
Word count: 8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297
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The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days. 
“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl. 
Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice. 
You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.
“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance. 
“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.” 
“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him. 
“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.” 
“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo. 
“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen. 
“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.
“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”
Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the  familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear. 
“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”
“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”
“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply. 
He tuts, “Bullshit.”
Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”
You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”
“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face. 
“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”
“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight. 
“Where are the rascals?” He asks. 
“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”
Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”
“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.
Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello. 
“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you. 
Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”
They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la  vez (one at a time).”
“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”
“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk. 
“That’s what I said,” she huffs. 
“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm. 
“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too. 
“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”
“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”
“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”
“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time. 
“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.” 
She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago. 
“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says. 
“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat. 
Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!” 
“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?” 
“She told me not to,” he admits shyly. 
“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks. 
“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”
“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”
“Fine,” his son grumbles. 
When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time,  chicos  (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”
You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”
The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed. 
“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”
He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day. 
“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth. 
“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips. 
“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”
Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”
“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”
She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”
“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while  she laughs and laughs. 
“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too. 
They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head. 
“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender. 
“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—” 
“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later. 
Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment. 
“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”
“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”
“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”
Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?” 
She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip. 
She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”
“Can I?” She widens her eyes. 
“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”
He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.
“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room. 
Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”
“You’re silly, Papá,” she says. 
“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”
Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”
“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.
He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.
However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family. 
He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on. 
He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console. 
“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go? 
“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”
“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder. 
When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).” 
“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to. 
“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”
“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”
“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”
“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand. 
“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”
“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.
“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”
“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.
“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.
“Really?” He whispers instead. 
“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like  leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”
He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”
Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”
Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"
“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile. 
“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”
“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.
Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”
“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”
“You said one more game!” He protests. 
Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”
“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed. 
“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”
“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up. 
“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch. 
“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off. 
Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring. 
“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass. 
“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well. 
His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon. 
You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you. 
“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically. 
You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”
“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system. 
Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it. 
“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes. 
“What?” He acts oblivious. 
“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”
“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”
“Missed you too,” you sigh. 
“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.” 
“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”
Javier snorts, “But we always—“
“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress. 
“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter. 
“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.
“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass. 
When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed. 
“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together. 
“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk. 
“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet. 
There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body. 
“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”
“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest. 
“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked. 
“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”
You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already. 
“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”
“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs. 
“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”
“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along. 
“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”
Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits. 
“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command. 
“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?” 
You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”
“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”
You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth. 
“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”
Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.
“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and. 
You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief. 
You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough. 
“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”
“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.
“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue. 
“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”
“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest. 
You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved. 
“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you. 
Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back. 
“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”
Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you. 
“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”
It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable. 
“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”
You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.
“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.
A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again. 
You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick. 
“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it. 
“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much. 
“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”
You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.
“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”
Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.” 
When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again. 
“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.
“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed. 
When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit. 
There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt. 
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give.  When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.
A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close. 
“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”
He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”
“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily. 
“You say that every time.”
“I mean it every time.”
There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words. 
“I was thinking of something,” he finally says. 
You sit up at that, “What?” 
“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you. 
You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”
“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”
“Are you serious?” You gape at him. 
“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”
“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you. 
He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”
“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness. 
“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.
You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”
“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips. 
He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”
.
.
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agentmarvel · 1 year ago
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Can we have headcanons of fem!reader wife x 141 guys and how they each handle her leaving for girl’s night out in a really skimpy dress?
I think they’d all have hilarious reactions.😂
Omg yesssss
NSFW under the cut
MDNI - 18+
♡ Price:
Oh lord, that man is NOT letting you out of the house.
"Where ya think you're going in that?"
gets a little pissy when you remind him you have one girls night a month, and you have every right to wear whatever you want
"Doesn't mean you have the right to show anyone else what's mine, love."
will physically block the door with his whole body, knowing you won't be able to move him unless he allows it
he isn't mad - no, quite the opposite! it's taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to rip that damn thing in half and have his way with you right there on the foyer floor
"John, move. I don't want to be late!" - "Shame... You should've thought about that before you put on something you know damn well I can't resist."
he thinks it's cute when you argue with him, but you both know this ends up with your front pressed up against the door, panties pulled to the side, and his cock buried to the hilt inside you
after he cums, he pulls your panties back into place and gives you a harsh swat on the ass, not caring that your make up is a little smudged or that your legs are jello while he's giving you that smug look he wears so well
"Enjoy your night out, Mrs. Price. Hurry home."
♡ Gaz:
he's on you before you even walk out of the bathroom after you finish your hair
wraps his arms around your waist, puts his chin on your shoulder, tells you how pretty you look
"This dress new? Haven't seen it on the floor before."
ohhhhh, he is so down bad for you, even after as long as you've been together
makes it a point to grab a quick selfie bc he knows it's a solid confidence booster, and he wants you to feel as beautiful as you look
it doesn't really cross his mind that anyone would try anything on you - you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he knows who you'll come home to; he knows who's bed you'll be in tonight, who's name you'll be calling in the dark
he even helps you pick the right shoes, even though you know he picks his favorite pair in hopes of seeing you in just those when you get home
ever the gentleman, he walks you out to your car, reminds you to drive safe, call him if you have too much to drink, etc.
he does, however, make it a point to send you some downright raunchy texts and a photo of his more... physical reaction, just in case you needed some motivation to come home a little early
when you get home (early), he's still riled up; he's too impatient to wait for you to make it upstairs, much less to unzip your dress for you, so you end up riding him on the landing until he's too tongue-tied to keep telling you how hot you look
♡ Soap:
you're not making it out of the house. Period.
the SECOND Johnny lays eyes on you, it's over
he's grabby as hell, digging his fingers into any part of you that he can - squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, tits, tummy, anything - while he navigates you to the nearest surface
"Yer so fuckin' pretty, baby. Never seen something so fuckin' perfect in my god damn life."
it doesn't matter if you end up on the couch, the kitchen counter, in the back yard; he's eating your pussy like a death row prisoner's last meal until you're crying, trying to wrench his head away with the hair tangled in your fist
he has your dress bunched up around your waist, straps pulled down so he can play with your nipples, but uses the whole garment as leverage while he fucks you stupid
you should've known better than to put a t-bone in front of a starving dog and expect it not to bite
"Go ahead, bonnie; text your little friends, tell them you're not gonna make it, yeah?"
♡ Ghost:
"'course, love. Have fun, be careful, call me if you need a ride."
Simon isn't too worried initially; he knows there isn't going to be a single soul in that bar willing or able to face his wrath should anything untoward happen. but then he actually sees what you're wearing, and all bets are off
that's why he follows you, he tells himself, it has nothing to do with the insatiable urge to destroy your ability to walk tomorrow
nothing trumps your safety, in terms of his priorities. he's simply here to look out for his wife, right?
wrong. he spends the next hour and a half watching you from a darkened corner of the bar while his palms itch with a need to touch
opportunity knocks when you excuse yourself from the table, and he follows you into the restroom, slipping in before you have a chance to lock the door
you're not surprised to see him (duh, you know him better than just about anyone), but you are surprised to find yourself bent over the sink, looking Simon in the eye through his reflection. he's fucking you mercilessly, spewing absolute filth while he pulls your head back by your hair
"My perfect little whore, hmm? Waltzing around in that tiny dress, wearing my fuckin' ring, rubbin' it in everyone's faces that you only open those pretty legs for me."
he wants to cum on your face, but you pout about the possibility of it getting in your eye, or worse, on your dress, so he settles for letting you swallow it instead
his impulses return not much longer after you return to your table; instead, he texts you that he's ready to head out, and you are all too quick to oblige
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yannisdesk · 22 days ago
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On Arcane & Antivillains
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One thing I really enjoy about Arcane is how it handles antivillains.
For one, most of the characters (main ones) would actually fall into the category of antivillain at one point, or in the case of our two protagonists, become one. Arcane is arguably ripe with them.
An antivillain is essentially the opposite of an antihero. Simplified, antiheros do good things out of selfish or questionable motives, antivillains do things that are objectively bad or evil, but for noble reasons or for a greater cause. Another term for them is "sympathetic villain" however that term is too vague (there are villains out there who are sympathetic, but are none the less traditionally evil and therefore do not qualify as antivillains), and "antivillain" is a much better term mirror to "antihero." A common thread I've noticed among antivillain characters is some level of a Machiavellian approach to achieving their goals - the ends justify the means type of philosophy is something you'll always find characters that fit this category. At the very least, they dabble with it. In their eyes their actions are always justified because they're fighting for a good cause.
To put things into perspective, I'll use two examples. Harley Quinn shifts around, but she is frequently an antihero, take her depiction in both Suicide Squad movies. She does take down bad guys, however she's not doing so out of a sense of altruism, but to get a reduced prison sentence. Very cut-and-dry example of antiheroism.
On the flip side you have Magneto. Now from what I've seen (I've dabbled in the comics, but haven't dived in all the way) in the comics he gets very dark with the antihuman action. But in the Xmen movies, he definitely does some down right villainous stuff, but his intention remains the same - he wants mutants to live in a world free of bigotry and he's willing to do anything necessary to achieve that, including committing atrocities.
Now if this sounds very confusing to you and you swear you've heard these terms interchangeably or that you can think of several characters that are labeled as type A when they should be type B or vice versa, that's pretty normal. These aren't archetypical heroes and villains we're talking about, so it can be hard to categorize them, and honestly most characters in general will go back and forth or shift at one point or another, so all you need to know is that those definitions are the ones we're working with in this post.
Here are the characters from Arcane that I think suit this label, and others that I think will.
Disclaimer: this is not me hating on the characters. I love all of these characters for this layer to their character. This is not a "oh, look, this character is bad actually," post. If anything, consider it a celebration of their gray morality and how well its explored in the show.
Silco
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Duh. Silco is objectively pretty evil. Setting up a drug empire that destroys your own people, getting in-cahoots with corrupt cops, killing kids, and aiding in destroying a young girl's mental health is multiple levels of foul. However, for him, all of this was part of an elaborate plan to liberate Zaun, which is being aggressively oppressed by Piltover. They were necessary sacrifices made to the cause, and worth it because it will bring forth better days for him and his people. Now obviously, a lot of his actions definitely have to do with his own ego, however the only time Zaun isn't prioritized is when it comes to Jinx, who is like a daughter to him, and even that realization comes to smack in the face late in his arc.
Sevika
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I'd argue she's even more noble than most since she truly is rooted in the cause for Zaun. Not only is she willing to do some pretty bad things for the "greater-good", she's even willing to betray people who she views as unfit or incompetent. And what's even more telling is that she doesn't do this for power (which is arguably a part of Silco's prerogative). Sure, she's his #2, but he doesn't exactly show any favoritism. And Sevika seemingly isn't even trying to become the new leader of Zaun after Silco's death from the season 2 clips, but will support Jinx, despite the fact that she probably could dethrone her. She's no true blue hero, but she's not a megalomaniac either.
The Entire Council of Piltover (Minus Mel & Jayce)
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As obnoxious as they are, none of them are mustache-twirling villains. As we see with characters like Sheriff Grayson (not a council member, but they share the same sentiment), they legitimately think they're protecting the city with their neglectful leadership and oppression of Zaunites. Yes, this includes Heimerdinger, who seemingly only started caring about Zaun once he was booted out of the council, so that places him firmly in antihero territory in my opinion.
Why did I exclude Mel and Jayce? Their plots are actually upward in terms of morality, especially Jayce who by the end is closer to being a traditional hero by prioritizing peace and progress over the status quo or war, and actively makes the first move of trying to right Piltover's wrongs. Mel's arc has also moved this direction as well, as she went from arguing that Jayce and Viktor should build Hextech weapons in case of war with the Zaunites, to fully embracing peace. You could argue that Mel wanting the weapons means she was at some point an antivillain, and I might agree, but as it stands, she's firmly in the clear.
So, why are the rest of the council still considered antivillains? Honestly, we just don't know much about their motivations to say. They ultimately did a good deed in voting for peace, but you know, one good deed doesn't wash-out the bad and vice versa. They're not even on thin ice for me, they're still fighting for the surface.
Marcus
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Questioning your actions does not mean you can't be an antivillain, and Marcus is a good example of that. He's is kind of like Caitlyn if she were way less compassionate and very incompetent. Marcus does not think his actions are evil, according to show runners he only places Vi in Stillwater to protect her from Silco; he gets involved with Silco because he wants justice for the building explosion and it goes out of hand. That said, he also threw a child into a dangerous prison with no charges and with the intention of keeping her there for life, and worked with a kingpin who was actively antagonizing his own people while reaping benefits from an abusive system. So yeah, Marcus falls more into being an antivillain than full-blown villain, he's still firmly an antagonist though.
Ambessa
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I know it's very popular in the fandom to call Ambessa a traditional bad-guy type of villain, but she is actually very nuanced. For one - she does not see her actions as evil, nor are her motivations behind doing them rooted in it. Ambessa, as she states in Mel's flashback, was raised in the Noxian way. Her grandfather literally made her search the dead bodies of the people they massacred when she was a youth, and she was indoctrinated to believe that this was in the best interest of her family and the Noxian people. By showing strength and ruthlessness, she's telling the rest of the world: "Stay away from House Medarda and Noxus." Hence, why Kino's death wrecks her, because she values herself over how effective she is at warding people off from messing with her family. Her main reason for getting involved with the war between Piltover and Zaun will 100% be because Mel's life was nearly lost due to Jinx's bomb, and this is coming straight off of her son's death mind you. So, while Ambessa may definitely be one of the most ruthless people on this list, she is not at Palpatine levels of evil yet, not by a long shot.
Jinx
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You guys saw this coming, right? This barely needs an explanation. Jinx grew up in the Lanes, was a victim of Piltover's oppression multiple times throughout her youth, was willing to fight for their freedom as seen in episode 2, and in the end, that desire, along with her being adopted by Silco, manifested in her doing multiple acts of violence, including terrorism against Piltover, which frequently hurt people who weren't guilty of anything. (No, blowing up the building in episode 3 doesn't count as one of her evil deeds because it was an accident.) We understand completely why Jinx does what she does, even though it hurts to see her slip farther and farther into this mindset.
Vi
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Way more subtle (for now) but I'd argue she's there come episodes 8 and 9. Hell, you could argue that her arc is about her sense of morality breaking down due to realizing how impossible the situation between Zaun and Piltover is, and embracing an "ends justifies the means" type mindset that Vander tried to sway her against back in episode 2. Wanting to stop a kingpin from using this new dangerous drug to destroy your city and sister? A noble cause, indeed. Not really caring that (or being passive over the fact that) children die in process because of their approximation to said bad guy? Yikes. [EDIT: Since we're on this topic: here's a link to where I explored this aspect of her character. I did this a while ago, but I thought it best to include it here too for added context). Now, I know what some of you are going to say - how is this any different from, say, Steve Rogers telling Wanda Maximoff that sometimes there's collateral damage when doing hero work? The difference is that Steve didn't argue that those people had it coming because they're associated with the bad guys/or in their way, which Vi does. That's some dangerous conviction right there, and we'll probably see that elaborated on in season 2 given that she's becoming an Enforcer which is a position that lends itself to abuse of power (and if it goes anyway like things do with her game counterpart, she will engage in police brutality and not see an issue with it, but given that Arcane's Vi is way more well, nuanced, than her game counterpart I don't think it will go on for long). While we're on the topic of Vi, according to her prison records, she had a notorious reputation while doing time to the point that I find it funny Silco didn't put 2-and-2 together that the girl with short pink hair beating the shit out of and attempting to murder all of his goons that went to Stillwater was possibly the same girl that wiped the floor with those same goons the night Vander died.
Potential Antivillains of Season 2:
These are characters that I predict will become antivillains at some point during season 2 based off of where their season 1 arc left and clues from season 2 teasers and clips. This is not me saying for sure this will happen, only a prediction. But if it does come true, I will gladly collect $5 per accurate plot point.
Viktor
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Two words: glorious evolution.
We all love Viktor. We all love good-guy Viktor, and we will also more than likely love not-so-good-guy Viktor due to how complex that arc will be. If it will go anything like his game-lore (which I suspect it will) his noble intentions will never leave him, just simply evolve to include some less-than-heroic actions and justifications. He still wants to improve the undercity, and well, humanity overall, with hextech, motivated by the injustices he's been put through his own life and his illness, but he will go about it in some very unorthodox ways, and his arc in Arcane is about him confronting if he wants to "evolve" his morality for the sake of his ultimate goal, which is progress. Viktor would definitely agree with the sentiment expressed by Gloria Steinem (character depiction, not a real quote) in Mrs. America - "Revolutions are messy, people get left behind."
Caitlyn
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I'm pretty sure she actually will become apart of the antivillain roster in season 2, but noting is for certain. Caitlyn is perhaps the saddest version of this there is, because we see where she starts out. She doesn't want to be like everyone else in her circle, she tries to break free and be better. She wants to do good by both Piltover and Zaun. She has hope, gentleness, and doesn't place herself above even those who occupy the lowest levels of Zaun. She puts herself, her status, and her life on the line to discover the truth, and comes out her time with Vi steadfast in wanting to help heal Zaun. She can be a little naive and ignorant, but she never does so with malicious or ill intent. She is the kindest person in Arcane.
But, given that her mother was killed in a terrorist attack set off by the new Head Zaunite in Charge, things will change. As we see, Caitlyn becomes a sheriff on the Enforcer squad, and now her goal is no longer to sow peace between Zaun and Piltover, it's to avenge her mother by assassinating Jinx. Of course, this will be due in part that Caitlyn thinks snuffing Jinx out will solve the problem, which will be ironic and hypocritical because she told Ekko that getting revenge on Silco won't solve anything in Zaun, but now that she's in the same predicament, the tables have turned and now diplomacy is off the table. She still has that hero-complex, as she lives by the lessons of Sheriff Grayson, but now it's with a twist. The idealistic Caitlyn who believed in giving peace a chance through reform is gone, and she now believes that there's little to no cost too great for her to achieve this, even if that (possibly - again season 2 hasn't come out yet, so we shall see) means hurting innocent Zaunites. And what's scary is that Caitlyn has the intelligence, dedication, talent, and efficiency to pull it off. Truthfully, I believe we won't just be getting Sheriff Caitlyn in season 2, but also Dictator Caitlyn.
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