#somehow it's taken me over a week to do this. time has no meaning. thank you for tagging me @thepondstogether!
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folieablog · 4 months ago
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Top 10 on Spotify:
tagged by @thepondstogether to do this poll tag game!
rules: go here and make a poll with your top ten long term artists and let your followers choose which one they like the most
tagged: @5centappointment, @celestialhijabi, @sxndingpostcards, @goth-miss-piggy, @theblackparadeisdead, @sikentender and anyone else who wants to do it!
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domjaehyun · 3 months ago
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the need to know (l.dh) — part two
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PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader  GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 17.7k in part two SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. hello hello here’s part 2!! i hope you enjoy 💖 please consider letting me know if you liked it!! (if you didn’t…. well… too bad ig) part three (the last part) will be out in one week!! that’s wednesday, december 18!! if you don’t want to wait, the full fic is available now on my patreon!! okay enough rambling from me, hehe. happy reading!!
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By the time you all arrive at the hotel, it’s well into the evening, the sky a canvas of blue with pastel streaks of purple, pink, and orange. 
“Dang, your manager hooked you up.” Mark remarks, letting out a low whistle as you all take in the sight of the modern style yet grandiose hotel architecture.
“She’s the best, actually.” you sigh happily as you head through the front doors, eyes widening as you take in the interior design of the lobby, the decor and layout somehow more impressive and expensive-looking than the outside. 
You make your way to the front desk, smiling politely at the hotel receptionist as your friends catch up to you. You give her your first and last name, and she looks through the system before handing you four small, card-sized envelopes.
“Here are your room keys! Enjoy your stay.” she says with a friendly wave, and you smile, thanking her before you make your way to the middle of the hallway near the elevators.
“How are we gonna split up the rooms?” Jeno asks curiously, and you examine the envelopes carefully before holding one up.
“Well, this is my room.” you say, wiggling the envelope in the air, and Haechan frowns.
“Says who?” 
“Says the golden star sticker on the envelope, dummy,” Renjun states, and you nod in agreement. “She’s the reason we’re here, so I’m sure they set aside a special room for her.”
“Fine,” Haechan huffs. 
“Wait a minute…” Jaemin says, stepping forward to look at your handful of room keys. “There are only four rooms.”
“Yeah?” Jiwoo says, confused. 
“That means two to a room… and there are three girls and five guys in our group… so that means—”
“A guy and a girl are gonna have to share a room,” Jihyo finishes, and you successfully fight down the urge to meet Haechan’s gaze as he sneaks a glance at you.
“Well, should we do, like, Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who has to share?” Mark suggests, and you shrug and nod.
“Well, wait, Jeno and I will room together; we’re already roommates, so that just makes sense.”
“Yeah, but I’m not rooming with Mark,” Haechan huffs. “We’re already roommates, so we’re getting sick of each other.”
“Well, I’m not rooming with Haechan!” Renjun exclaims, shaking his head vehemently. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Haechan replies. “I think.”
“Why don’t we do Rock, Paper, Scissors between Mark, Renjun, and Haechan, and first and second place get to share a room together?” Jihyo suggests, and they grumble indistinctly before reluctantly agreeing.
The first round, they all throw rock, making it a tie.
The second round, Mark throws paper, Haechan throws rock, and Renjun throws scissors, making it a tie yet again.
The third round, Mark and Haechan both throw scissors, while Renjun throws rock.
“Hell, yeah!” Renjun cheers before looking over at you sheepishly. “I’m not cheering because I don’t have to room with you; I’m cheering for the love of the game and winning.”
“Understood,” you chuckle, patting his shoulder understandingly.
Mark and Haechan throw scissors. Then they throw rock. Then they throw scissors. Then they throw paper.
“Jesus Christ, are you two mentally linked or something?” Jaemin asks exasperatedly, and Mark scowls.
“Be quiet, I need to focus.” he says dismissively, waving Jaemin off. 
Finally, the last round comes and Mark throws scissors and you’re not sure if you’re the only one who caught it, but there’s a significant delay between Mark’s hand and Haechan throwing a sign, your eyes widening almost imperceptibly in surprise as Haechan’s hand extends out flat.
“Scissors beat paper!” Mark cheers victoriously, and he and Renjun high-five.
Haechan shrugs nonchalantly at his defeat, sporting a “what can you do” kind of smile as he looks over at you. “Hey, roomie.”
You can feel Jihyo’s stare burning holes into the side of your head, and it takes everything in you to react naturally, rolling your eyes and sighing loudly.
“Okay, I guess.” you agree hesitantly, and Jihyo rubs your back sympathetically.
“We’ll see you in the morning for the festival, okay?” she says, and you nod, starting to head to your room. Haechan catches up with you easily, taking your bags from your hands and slinging one over his shoulder, holding the other in the hand not holding his own bag.
As you two walk to the elevator, you grab Haechan by the ear as soon as you’re both out of sight, shushing his yelps of alarm and pain as you pull him into the waiting elevator. You don’t release him until the doors shut on you, and when you do, he shoots you a wounded look as he rubs his ear.
“What was that for?!” he squawks, and you point at him accusingly.
“You threw that game on purpose so you’d room with me—didn’t you?”
He shrugs once more, crossing his arms smugly. “Says who?”
“I saw your hand,” you whisper loudly. “You put paper up after Mark threw scissors.”
There’s a moment in which he doesn’t speak and neither of you move, and a sly grin takes over his face as he speaks. “Do you watch my hands often?”
“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, pushing his chest.
“Maybe you’re right,” he admits as the doors open and you two make your way down the hall to find your room. “Maybe I didn’t want Mark sharing a room with you.” 
You roll your eyes dramatically, finally finding your room and inserting the room key. “You’re unbelievable, actually. Nothing would have happened with Mark, and there are two separate beds.”
As you step into the hotel room, you’re taken aback by the view and the modern decor, but something else makes you stop entirely in your tracks, Haechan bumping into your back before he can pass the narrow entryway to see what you’re seeing. 
“Well, I take that back.” you mumble, surprised, and Haechan splutters in horror.
“Something would have happened with Mark?!” he squawks, and you make an expression that he can’t see, face scrunched up in confusion and mild exasperation.
“What? No, Haechan.” you huff, pointing in front of you, and Haechan peers past you to see what you’re seeing.
“There’s only one bed.” he breathes, excitement creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but laugh.
“You little weirdo, why are you so okay with this?” you manage to get out through your incredulous laughter, and he smiles, setting your and his bags down before stepping closer and closer to you until you feel provoked to back up. He keeps advancing on you, smile growing as you retreat, until your legs hit the side of the bed and you plop down on your ass unexpectedly, looking up at him with confusion and a hint of panic.
“Because now,” he purrs, leaning over you so suddenly that you lean back, promptly flattening yourself on the bed as he braces himself over you with his hands on either side of your body, “I can do this,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. You squeal in surprise as he connects your lips, Haechan quickly building the intensity as he leans most of his body weight on you to keep you in place. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease, the wet, warm intruding muscle exploring your mouth like he just can’t get enough.
“Haechan,” you gasp out when he finally breaks the kiss, but your call falls on deaf ears as he kisses down your neck and lingers there, sucking and licking at various spots until he finds the one that makes you squirm. When you push at his chest, overwhelmed by the ticklish yet pleasurable sensation, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, pinning it up by your head.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos, separating from your neck long enough to hover over your face, looking you in the eyes with a small grin that you wish you didn’t find as attractive as you do. “Nervous to share a bed with me?”
“No,” you answer, probably too quickly to be convincing, and by the way Haechan’s smile grows, your suspicions are confirmed.
“Aw, baby… do I make you nervous?” he teases, and you huff, pushing at his chest with your free hand. He’s quick to restrain that one too, and you won’t lie: a thrill travels up your spine at him using his strength to overpower you. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, and his eyes flash with delight.
“You’re not even gonna try to deny it?” he taunts, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against yours, urging your head up in anticipation for another kiss. “How cute.”
“You’re being mean,” you grumble, bucking your hips upwards to throw him off. He laughs and shakes his head in disagreement.
“Could never be mean to you, baby.” he murmurs, leaning back in for another kiss. “I just like playing with you.”
“Well, quit it; I wanna shower before bed.” you say with a pout, and he smiles down at you fondly, eyes dragging between your eyes and your lips. “What is that look in your eyes for?”
“You’re cute when you’re the whiny baby.” he points out, and your frown deepens, brows knitting together. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m gonna dote on you just like you dote on me.”
“I’m not a whiny baby.”
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you pouting?”
“I’m upset.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, “Is that so?”
“Why are you upset?” he muses, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “Because I’m pinning you down? Because I’m kissing you?”
“Because you’re teasing me.” you correct him, and he blinks at you before a knowing smile curls his lips.
“So you’re not upset that I’m pinning you down and kissing you?” he asks rhetorically, and you blanch, realizing you’ve backed yourself into a corner. “Mm, don’t worry, baby; when you get out of that shower, I’m gonna pin you down some more and kiss you over… and over… and over again.” he purrs against your lips, stealing a sudden, passionate kiss from you before sitting up and releasing you.
Your mind is dazed from his kisses and the onslaught of attention he’s just given you, and it takes you a moment to process that you should probably get up. Your delay doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, who grins widely.
“You like my kisses that much, huh? What about your shower?” he teases, and you huff, glaring at him before pushing yourself up to a sitting position. 
“I’m going,” you mumble, standing up and grabbing your toiletries bag before you make your way into the bathroom.
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You’re rinsing off in the shower when the door opens, and you freeze as Haechan enters the room. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, gripping the shower curtain carefully to conceal yourself as you peer around it at him. “Nope! Nuh-uh. No.” 
He hesitates as he unbuckles his belt, looking up at you with a frown. “Why not?” he complains, and you wet your hand before flicking water at his face. He flinches back, eyes scrunching shut as he wipes his face and glares at you petulantly.
“What makes you think you can just get in my shower?” you ask incredulously, and he grins at you, brows raised suggestively.
“Aw, come on, baby,” he coaxes, stepping closer to the shower. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he reminds you. “Plus,” he adds with a cheeky wiggle of his brows, “I’d love to see it again.”
“Yeah, I bet you would,” you mutter. “But too bad! Get out!”
He narrows his eyes at you and opens the bathroom door, slinking out in defeat as he mutters something about the world being unfair.
“You’ll live,” you call after him.
“Will I?” he calls back, but the door shuts and when you peek out again, he’s nowhere to be found, leaving you to finish your shower in peace.
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When you’ve finished with your nighttime routine, you crawl into the bed beside Haechan, who looks over at you from his phone. 
“Took you long enough,” he huffs. “You were in there for ages. I got lonely.” 
“Aww, did you miss me?” you coo teasingly, reaching over to pinch his cheek.
“Yes,” he grouches, and you beam.
“What was that?” you ask, tilting your head and putting your free hand behind your ear.
He rolls his eyes before setting his phone down on his stomach and glowering at you. “Yes, I missed you.”
“How cute.” you hum, releasing his cheek and lying on your back, unlocking your phone.
He shuffles closer to you and rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you check your social media, making sure your follower count is relatively the same as it was the day before, and you text back your PR manager, confirming the logistics of the music festival tomorrow.
“So that lady handles all your social media scandals?” he asks curiously, and you nod.
“I mean, I’ve never had a scandal, but if I did, she’d do damage control. She mostly organizes my promotional content and gets me cool deals and PR boxes.” you explain, and he hums thoughtfully.
“What’s a PR box?” he questions.
“It’s those boxes of, like, makeup or clothing, or products various brands want me to try.” you reply patiently, and he nods slowly in understanding.
“You know, I feel like you do a lot more work than I thought.” he observes, and you scoff.
“I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.” 
“I’m serious! I feel like you work really… really hard,” he says, his voice dropping ever so slightly in pitch.
“I do,” you agree. 
“You deserve a reward.” he decides, and you nod before it hits you that, knowing Haechan, he’s probably thinking of something entirely different.
Your suspicions, once again, are confirmed as one of his hands trails up your bare leg, stopping just before your sleep shorts.
“What are you doing?” 
“What does it feel like I’m doing? I’m touching you.” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your shoulder.
“I’m not dumb. Why are you touching me?”
“Well,” he muses, “like we just said, you work so hard… so you deserve a little treat.”
“Uh-huh,” you say skeptically. “And?”
“And…” Haechan trails off, making you look over at him. He’s looking down at the lump where his hand rests on your leg and you watch as he wets his lips slowly before looking up at you. “You look so good in your little pajamas.” 
“There it is,” you chuckle, and he joins you, fingers trailing further up your leg to slip ever so slightly under your shorts. 
“You really do look good, baby,” he purrs seductively, and you curse internally as you realize he’s bringing out the big guns. “And you smell good…”
“Okay, Haechan.” you say, patting his hand under the covers.
“Good enough to eat,” he grunts in your ear, and you squeal at the sensation, squirming away from him.
“Hey!” you yelp. “Get your hands off of me,” you huff, pushing at his fingers. “Don’t be yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.”
“But I love being yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty,” he chuckles, bringing his lips to your ear once more and holding you down as he brushes his lips against the inner parts of your ear. “It’s one of my favorite things to be.”
“One of?”
“It comes very close to being on top of you.” he answers with a grin and a flick of the tongue at your ear, and you scowl, pushing him back with a groan.
“Well, too bad,” you huff, but he persists, fingers slipping higher and higher still up your shorts until you could probably lift the covers and see his hand completely disappearing under the thin fabric, fingertips grazing your underwear-clad skin so lightly it almost tickles.
“Well, then; what do I do now?” he murmurs against the spot behind your earlobe, his words sending more ticklish vibrations down your spine, making you shudder involuntarily.
“Uh, gee, I don’t know…. stop?” you reply with a sarcastic roll of your eyes.
“What if I don’t want to?” he questions, leaning closer to you and trailing his lips from behind your ear to just a breath away from your lips. “What if I want to kiss you?”
“Too bad,” you mutter weakly, your resolve slipping due to a number of factors: his voice, the suggestive lilt to it, and the way his fingers are starting to trace slow lines up and down your slit, deliberately avoiding your clit.
“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he coos, shifting his body entirely to climb on top of you. “Gimme a kiss. Just a little good night kiss.”
“You’re very persistent, you know that? Like a dog with a bone.”
“I like to call myself determined.” he replies easily, smiling as he leans in even closer to the point where you can feel his breath fanning over your lips. “Remember when I said if I want something, I get it?”
“Yeah?” you reply quietly, barely moving your mouth as you speak for fear even the slightest pucker of your lips would result in a kiss.
“What I want now,” he explains slowly, eyes trained on your lips even through his lowered eyelids, “is a kiss from the prettiest girl I know.”
You pause, thinking it over, and his smile widens as your brows furrow in frustration before your eyes roll and you sigh in defeat. Not needing to hear anything else, Haechan closes the gap, kissing your lips softly with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.
“I hate that that worked on me,” you groan against his lips, and he grins into the kiss.
“I love that it did.” he mumbles into your mouth. “Love kissing you, baby.”
“Mm, yeah?” you hum, running your hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he sighs dreamily. “Wanna kiss you everywhere,” he adds, connecting your lips again in a wet kiss that results in a soft smacking sound when you two part. 
“Everywhere?” you reply curiously, and he nods, starting to smile as his head moves lower and lower until it’s disappearing under the covers. “Where are you going?”
“Wanna kiss you here,” he mumbles against your stomach, hands lifting up the hem of your shirt to reveal your bare flesh. He does just that, kissing a path from under the bottom of your bra to the waistband of your shorts. “I really wanna kiss you here,” he growls softly, and you feel his nose and upper lip brush against your skin as he takes the waistband of your shorts in his teeth, pulling the elastic back before letting it snap against your skin.
You yelp in shock, and he laughs, kissing along where your stomach slightly stings from the contact as a wordless apology. He slips an arm under your leg, moving it to drape over his shoulder, and nuzzles his face into the seat of your underwear, another sound of surprise leaving you before it’s cut off with your moan as he groans into your concealed core.
“Pussy smells so good,” he mumbles, words dragging together as his nose nuzzles and rubs against your clothed clit. “You’re so wet, too—and you were really gonna try to convince me you didn’t want this?”
“Please shut up,” you say shakily, and he chuckles.
“Less talking, more licking?” he questions, and at your whine of frustration, he laughs, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it through the fabric. 
“Shit—” you hiss, attempting to squirm away, but he holds onto you firmly, pulling your underwear to the side and dragging his tongue up your slit. You can feel the wet warmth of his tongue gliding along your folds as well as his hot breath as he groans against your flesh, lewd sounds of sucking, slurping, and kissing filling the room as he sloppily makes out with your core. “Oh, my God,” you whimper when he focuses his tongue on your clit, alternating between swirling it around the bud, flicking it back and forth, and massaging it with the flat of his tongue.
“Tastes so good, baby.” he rasps, a rhythmic rustling sound catching your attention and piquing your curiosity. A glance down at where Haechan lies prone on the bed under the covers grants you the sight of his body moving, hips rutting into the bed as he tongues at your core feverishly with no signs of stopping. “Could eat this sweet pussy all night.”
“Please—” you start, words cutting off in favor of a gasp as he trails two fingers down your folds from your clit to your entrance that’s currently dripping arousal.
“Please, what? You want my tongue, hm? Or my fingers?” he murmurs, lips coated with a mix of his saliva and your arousal as he sucks noisily at your clit, the two fingers prodding at your entrance easing into you ever so slightly. You hiss loudly, fingers clutching the bed sheets as his mouth ravishes your core, his fingers pushing in deeper as he flicks his tongue over your clit rapidly.
“Feels so good,” you cry out weakly, and he nods vigorously into your core, fingers starting to pump in and out of you.
“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” he moans into you, tongue lapping at your clit, your folds, and around where his fingers keep slipping into you. “So fucking wet—”
“I–I’m close,” you stammer, and he hums contentedly, fingers speeding up and curling to massage your g-spot. Your nails scratch uselessly at the comforter on the bed, part of you wanting to lift the covers and watch as Haechan devours you with an unrestrained greed and a remarkable level of glee.
“Want you to cum,” he mumbles drunkenly against your clit. “Wanna feel it—wanna taste it—cum for me, baby, cum all over my face—”
Your back arches off of the bed as your abdomen tenses almost painfully, your climax spreading through you slow but thick like molasses in your bloodstream. You feel heavy and lightheaded all at once, a series of shaky breaths and moans of Haechan’s name leaving your lips as you try to compose yourself to no avail. 
Haechan doesn’t let up, free hand clutching your thigh and pulling you down further onto his face greedily, tongue ravenously delving in and out of your folds to taste the cum leaking from your core. Your breath catches in your throat with a sharp whimper, hips bucking up to meet his mouth even as the rest of your body squirms, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.
“Can’t—” you pant, pushing weakly at Haechan’s head over the covers. “You gotta stop—”
“‘M not done yet, baby.” he grunts, voice throaty and thick as he sucks your folds into his mouth. “Just a little bit longer—you can take it, right?”
“I—” you whine, not even sure what you were going to say once Haechan’s tongue connects with the underside of your clit. “Fuck!”
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes, gently pulling back the hood to your clit and licking at the exposed bud. You cry out loudly, and he moans in response, tongue speeding up in its actions. “Wanna cum one more time for me?”
“No—” you gasp, attempting to squirm away from him. It feels good, so unbelievably good, but you’re not sure if you can handle another climax right away without giving your poor, hypersensitive clit a break.
“I wasn’t actually asking,” he informs you, voice muffled as he presses his mouth to your entrance, his tongue joining his fingers and entering you, wet muscle flicking and licking and stroking until you’re climaxing again, your thighs closing around his head tightly as your hips buck upwards and your body trembles, muscles tensed, tight as a violin string.
This time, Haechan relents, slowly slipping his fingers and tongue from you and turns his head, kissing along your inner thighs before making his way back up to your face, where he kisses you deeply.
“Got you nice and ready,” Haechan murmurs with a smile, “so now you can take my cock.”
You don’t even have it in you to pretend to protest, instead nodding dazedly and gazing up at him expectantly with half-lidded eyes.
“Fuck, don’t give me those eyes unless you’re trying to go all night.” he warns you, and you blink slowly, trying to fix your face. Haechan pushes the covers off of his shoulders and sits up slightly, tugging his boxers down to let his erection spring free. He trails his fingers up your slit, chuckling when you jolt, and wraps the hand around his length, using your arousal as lubrication as he strokes himself, eyes on you the whole time. 
Finally, he aligns his tip with your entrance, pushing into you with a slow, fluid thrust that still manages to knock the wind out of your lungs.
“You feel that, baby?” he coos, taking your hand and pressing it to just below your stomach. As he drags his thick length in and out of you, you can feel him moving inside of you, a soft gasp of surprise leaving you at the realization. “Yeah, you’re taking me all the way in your pretty little pussy—doing such a good job—”
“Haechan,” you plead weakly, reaching for him with your free hand. He leans over you and grants your unspoken wish, molding his lips with yours and deepening the kiss immediately, sucking gently at your bottom lip. 
“Yeah, you like when I fuck you nice and deep like this, right?” he murmurs in a low voice, tongue slipping into your mouth to swirl around yours.
“Mm—yeah—” you barely manage to get out.
“Like feeling every inch of my cock deep in your little pussy, yeah?” he eggs you on, and the almost taunting edge to his words is inexplicably more arousing than you expected, your body now hopelessly hurtling towards yet another climax. “Fuck, baby, you just got so tight around me—your pretty pussy must really like me.” he remarks smugly, his unshakable confidence not helping you keep your composure.
“Wanna cum—Hae–chan, please—” you gasp, and he grins, kissing you again.
“Gonna cum too, baby, hold it for me for one second—I’m almost there—”
“Can’t hold it—”
“Yes, you can, baby, just a little more—”
“Haechan—” you moan, both a warning and an exclamation of pleasure.
“Cum, baby, let it go,” he grunts finally, and you do just that, the feeling of release so blissful it brings tears to your eyes. His thrusts slowly come to a stop as he pumps his load into you, his cum filling you practically to the brim—and then some, because a decent amount trickles out of you as he continues to lazily move his hips. “Good?”
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving as you wipe a stray tear as surreptitiously as possible.
“Are you crying?” he asks incredulously, brows raised in surprise. 
“Allergies,” you lie, and he shoots you a skeptical look.
“Sure, baby.” he chuckles, pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his boxers, and lying down beside you. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask curiously as you spot Haechan’s arm moving to drape over your waist.
“Uh…” he stops short, caught red-handed, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“No cuddling.” you repeat the rule back to him, and he scowls at you before rolling his eyes. “Plus, we both need to shower now.”
“Wanna shower together?” he offers with a wiggle of his brows, and you chuckle.
“No.”
“Just evil, I swear.” he grouches, and you scoff in amusement.
“At least I’m not yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.” 
“You seemed to like how yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty I am when I had my tongue all over your pussy a couple of minutes ago.” he replies smugly, and you grimace, covering your ears.
“Can’t hear you! Go shower!”
He wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls it away from your ear, replacing it with his lips as he murmurs, “You can deny it all you want, but that pretty pussy wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Shower!”
“Fine,” he sighs loudly, climbing off the bed and walking to the bathroom. “You sure you don’t wanna shower together?” he tries one more time hopefully, and you grab the nearest pillow and chuck it at him.
“Shower! Now!”
“Just cruel and wicked and evil.” Haechan grumbles, picking the pillow up from the floor and tossing it back onto the bed. “Hate that it kinda turns me on.”
“Haechan, I swear to God—”
“I’m going!”
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The following morning, you’re getting ready for the festival in Jihyo’s and Jiwoo’s room, much to Haechan’s dismay.
(“I just don’t get why you can’t get ready in here with me,” he’d complained, following you around as you gathered your makeup and various clothing options.
“Because,” you reply patiently, “Jihyo and Jiwoo are gonna help me figure out my makeup and my outfit.”
“I could help you with that!” he squawks indignantly, and you sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you turn to face him, placing a hand on your hip.
“Okay, Haechan; should I go with a warm-toned cut crease or a smoky eye look?” you ask, and you can practically watch as the gears in his head spin and overheat and eventually stop, Haechan frowning deeply at you.
“Okay, fine.” he mutters in defeat.
“I’ll see you downstairs before we head over to the festival.” you promise, and he grumbles indistinctly, brows furrowed together. You step forward and press a soft kiss to the space between his brows, watching as he relaxes slightly. “That’s better,” you remark, pleased. 
“One more kiss for the road?” he asks hopefully.
“Haechan, what road?”
“It’s an expression!”
“Fine,” you relent, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. He groans in delight and winds his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. One kiss turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into you peeling yourself off of a whining, grouchy Haechan and wiggling your fingers in a goodbye, blowing him a quick kiss before slipping out the door.)
As you do your eye makeup—the girls opted for a warm-toned smoky eye look, which is exactly what your outfit needed and the exact reason why you consulted them in the first place—Jihyo calls your name, making you meet her gaze in the vanity mirror.
“So, how was your night last night?” she asks curiously, but you know her too well; she’s never asking just to ask; there’s always an ulterior motive to her every move, and so you proceed with caution.
“Eh, it was fine. You know Haechan snores?” you remark lightly, and Jiwoo snorts.
“Was it loud?”
“No, I just had to roll him onto his side and he slept like a baby.” you explain, and Jihyo scans your face, no doubt searching for anything that could give you away. You remain calm and neutral, continuing to blend out your eyeshadow, and she finally relaxes, seemingly satisfied for now.
“What did you guys do all night? Jiwoo and I watched a movie.” Jihyo questions, and you turn to look at her.
“What movie? And you’d better not say anything I haven’t seen yet.” You point a finger at her accusingly, eyes narrowed playfully, and she snickers.
“We watched Aquaman.” she answers, and you gasp loudly. “You’ve seen that!”
“You let me miss out on a chance to see Jason Momoa all wet and muscular?! Do you even love me for real?” you wail, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically. “Oh, I could faint.”
“You’re overreacting—”
“The horror!”
“Girl, you’ve seen it—”
“The betrayal!” 
“I swear to God—”
“I may never forgive you, you know.”
“Oh, hush!” she finally laughs, joining in on your and Jiwoo’s giggling. “You’re too much.”
“You love me.” you pout, turning to look at her, and her features soften into a warm, fond smile.
“I really do.”
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The festival is packed with hundreds of people, various vendors set up under tents to shelter from the sun, and the stage is huge, with a catwalk going down the middle of the platform.
“Holy shit, you guys.” Jiwoo exhales in awe, looking around at the scenery. “It’s so crowded.”
“There are snacks everywhere,” you sigh dreamily. “I’m in Heaven.”
“I can’t wait to try everything,” Renjun says excitedly, and Mark nods in agreement.
“Those churros are calling my name right now.” he groans, and you all follow after an almost entranced Mark as he makes his way through the crowd to get in line for the churros. 
As you wait, you realize that you rarely have to do your job in front of your friends, and the prospect of suddenly doing so makes you nervous. “I just wanna warn you guys that I need to film content while I’m here… that’s the whole reason we got to come.” you inform your friends, who nod or agree verbally.
“If you need help filming, I got you,” Jaemin offers, and you immediately nod, handing him your phone. 
“I was hoping you’d say that.” you sigh in relief, taking his wrist and pulling him over to the next snack tent that catches your eye, the both of you unaware of Haechan’s disapproving gaze following you.
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“You know, you’re spending a lot of time with Jaemin,” Haechan points out, and you blink at him slowly. 
“He’s my photographer.” you explain bluntly, and he makes a disapproving face.
“I could be your photographer,” he replies in a huff, and you roll your eyes.
“Are you as good at photography?” you ask, and he nods immediately, making you roll your eyes as you decide to call him on his bluff. “Okay, take this next photo for my Instagram.”
He sets up his position as he angles the phone towards you, and you make a cute pose, holding it until Haechan gives the okay to move.
“Done?” you ask, and he nods, presenting you with the screen proudly. You look over the photo and— “Haechan?”
“Yes?”
“How do I say this…” you wonder aloud before deciding to rip the bandaid off. “Your photos aren’t as good as Jaemin’s.”
“What?!” he exclaims incredulously, and you nod sympathetically with pursed lips.
“It’s blurrier.” you point out. 
“It’s not!”
“Haechan, I’m looking dead at it. It’s blurrier.” 
“Well—fine, I can be your creative director.” he suggests, nodding proudly, and you raise your eyebrows before just shrugging in defeat and nodding. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom—don’t film with Jaemin while I’m gone.” he warns you, and you wave him off dismissively, nodding.
When he disappears, it takes a minute for Jaemin to find his way back over to you, reaching for your camera and phone only to tilt his head in confusion when you deny him.
“Haechan wants us to wait for him to come back.” you explain, and he nods slowly.
“And why do we care what Haechan wants?” 
“Aw, don’t say that! He’s our friend!” you protest, and he raises his eyebrows.
“Okay, well, I’m your friend and I wanna film now.” he says, and you blink, conflicted. A knowing smile tugs at his lips and he steps closer, speaking more intentionally as he says, “I thought so. I’m gonna ask you again: why do we care what Haechan wants?”
Lost for words, you scan the crowd for an out, your salvation coming in the form of one of your favorite songs starting to play. “Ooh, I love this song! I’m gonna go dance,” you say, and Jaemin rolls his eyes with a smile before gesturing for you to join the group of dancing bodies.
The music consumes you as you move to the beat, and you’re swaying your hips with your eyes closed when two hands land on your hips. 
“Back from the bathroom already?” you chuckle, receiving no response. Shrugging, you continue to dance, it dawning on you a moment later that this is quite the compromising position to be caught in.
You turn to your left to make sure your friends aren’t watching, only for your heart to jolt with a lurch when you see Haechan standing a foot away from you with an affronted expression.
If that’s Haechan, then who’s behind you?
You turn around with a whirl, eyes wide, and your features contort into anger when you see some absolute schmuck of a stranger standing behind you. 
“And who the hell are you?” you ask, not caring how rude you sound.
“I’m Chad.” he says, grinning too widely.
“Right… and why are you dancing on me?” you question.
“I’m a fan of your content and I saw you dancing over here and, y’know, thought I’d take the opportunity.” he explains, and you blink at him for a moment.
“Well, thank you for liking my content.” you say sincerely, and he smiles, nodding. “Did you, um, come with anyone?”
“Yeah, I lost my friends a couple minutes ago… do you mind if I hang out with you until I find them?” he requests, rubbing the back of his neck, and you pause to think before shrugging reluctantly.
“I guess you can hang out with us,” you say finally, and he beams at you, jerking his chin at Haechan in a greeting Haechan doesn’t return, your friend still eyeing the newcomer suspiciously.
“Well, I’m gonna get some snacks…” you say carefully, eager to leave the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“Let’s go,” Chad suggests, and you hold back a sigh, not looking forward to babysitting this stranger, but head to the fried dough tent regardless, deliberately giving Haechan a look that signals for him to follow you.
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Of all the moments for Haechan to leave your side, of course he picks now when you actually need him. Chad follows you around like a lost puppy, poorly attempting to hit on you and even get you to leave with him at one point, and you wish you could see literally any of your friends right now, but especially Haechan.
“I love this song,” Chad says, tugging you closer as he attempts to dance with you. 
“I feel like I made it clear earlier that I don’t want to dance.” you say impatiently, and Chad frowns, the expression nowhere near as cute as when Haechan does it, pulling you closer and closer still. You’re debating smacking him, but you know that would be horrible for your image.
However, you may have spoken too soon about Haechan disappearing, as Haechan appears to your right, taking your hand and pulling you away from a confused Chad firmly. 
“Haechan,” you say breathlessly, never happier to see him. “Where are we going?”
“We need to go back to the hotel,” is his only reply as he pulls you through the mass of bodies at the festival, not caring one bit about the affronted glares and annoyed muttering under people’s breath as he pushes past them. 
“Haechan, you’re causing a disturbance,” you warn him as you two finally clear the crowd, and he stops in his tracks, whirling around to face you.
“I’ll drop my pants right now and show everyone a real disturbance when I fuck you right here.” he replies in a low, surprisingly serious voice, and you blink, stunned. “That sound good to you?”
“No,” you say quietly, surprised by the shift in his energy, and he nods curtly before turning back around and continuing to lead a much more cooperative you to, you presume, the hotel.
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When you get to the hotel, Haechan has the decency to act natural, now leading you a bit more gently to the elevator. Once the doors open, though, all decorum is out the window, Haechan tugging you in and practically flinging you against the wall.
“Jesus, Haechan—” you gasp, but your words are muffled by his lips on yours.
“You’re mine, you know?” he grunts into the kiss. “You trying to drive me crazy?”
“What?” you ask, baffled. “Haechan, I thought that was you behind me!”
“Well, it was that weirdo and he kept flirting with you—pissed me all the way off.” His lips travel south to kiss your neck, but he’s rough with you—biting you, sucking hard at spots until you whimper, and finally he licks a stripe up from your collarbone to your jaw before turning your face towards his for another searing kiss, this one a mix of teeth and tongue as he molds his lips with yours feverishly. “I don’t like that freak touching you—”
“Neither did I—”
“I should be the only one touching you.” he ignores you as if you hadn’t spoken, sucking on your bottom lip harshly before pulling back and letting it slip back into place.
He pushes his hand into your shorts, nimble fingers finding your clothed clit with ease and stroking it teasingly as you cry out in surprise and pleasure.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he coos against your lips. “Don’t want anyone waiting for the elevator to hear you.”
His words remind you once more that you are, in fact, very much in a public elevator, and you gasp in surprise, pushing at his wrist inside your shorts. 
“Haechan, what if the doors open? What if someone sees—” you moan, a hint of panic in your voice, but it fades away when he presses harder against your clit and drops his head down to suck at your neck.
“Relax, we’re almost there,” he soothes your worries with another, slightly gentler kiss before returning to his task of sucking at various spots on your neck, teeth scraping over the heated skin before he’s pulling back as the elevator slows to a stop.
The doors open on your floor and Haechan takes your hand once more, not-so-gently pulling you after him to the hotel room. He pulls the room keycard out of his pocket and slips it into the slot, the small beep and clicking sound of the door unlocking prompting him to open the door and pull you inside. 
Yanking you into another kiss, he focuses on unbuttoning your shorts and backing you towards the bed. When the backs of your legs connect with the side of the bed, he pushes you onto the bed, leaving you bouncing on the bed slightly from the impact as he drops to his knees in front of you between your legs. 
“Fucking mine,” he growls under his breath, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your neck to your chest. He tugs your bra down so your breasts are practically spilling out, his lips on your skin immediately. He sucks at the flesh of your breast, swirling his tongue around your areola before focusing in on your nipple, sucking the bud between his lips as you moan and slide your fingers into his hair.
“What happened to ‘no jealousy?’” you tease lightly, and he pulls away from your nipple with an embarrassingly loud wet pop, glowering up at you.
“Fuck that right now,” he grumbles. “You didn’t even want him. I’m just reminding you that you could do so much better than him.”
“And you’re… the ‘better’ I could be doing, right?” you reply with a growing smile, and his eyes narrow at you.
“Don’t piss me off.” he mumbles, returning his lips to your nipple and sucking, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak. You arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest further into his face, and he takes the intrusion eagerly, pressing his face into your breast until his cheeks are smushed by either side of your breast. 
One hand gropes at your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh while occasionally drawing circles around your nipple to mimic the traces he’s making with his tongue on your other nipple. His free hand moves from beside you on the bed and slips back into your pants, this time pushing past your underwear and dragging two fingers up your folds, collecting the arousal and swirling it around your clit.
“Feels good,” you sigh blissfully, fingernails lightly scratching at his scalp, and he groans so lowly it could almost pass for a purr. 
“Yeah? Think he could do a better job?” Haechan huffs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“Shut up about him,” you urge Haechan, and he sucks his teeth, pulling back from your nipple with one last flick before switching to the other one. His fingers dip into you, as if testing your readiness, and he sucks in a breath at how eagerly your core welcomes him in.
“So fucking wet for me, baby.” he teases, and you whine in anticipation, pushing your hips forward to push more of his fingers into you. “Wanna feel more, yeah?”
“More,” you pant, nodding eagerly, “please.”
“Anything for the pretty girl,” he coos, pushing his fingers in to the last knuckle and curling them, relishing your responding moan, before he starts to move them in and out.
“Fuck—feels so good—” you moan when he finds that sensitive patch along the inside of your walls that makes your breath hitch and your hips buck. 
“Pretty girl’s all mine, right?” he grunts, tongue lolling out to flick at your nipple, the wet muscle traveling over the bud repeatedly as his fingers pump in and out of you. 
“Yeah,” you whine, and he grins, leaning up to kiss you. He nips at your bottom lip playfully and you make a tiny, plaintive whimper that he coos affectionately at before your stomach starts to develop that telltale tightening feeling. “Mm—wanna cum—gonna cum—”
“Then cum, baby,” Haechan chuckles, fucking his fingers into you faster. “Who’s stopping you?”
His words send you over the edge and you free fall into an ocean of pleasure, warmth spreading through your body as you climax. Your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your walls clenching around his fingers and making him suck in a loud breath of surprise, his eyes glazing over with desire. 
He keeps moving his fingers in you until your body shudders subside, kissing at the corner of your mouth sweetly as you ride out your high. You’re prepared for him to take his fingers out of you, so it surprises you when he doesn’t, instead pressing your chest down until you’re lying on your back, his fingers gradually picking up the pace again.
“Wha—fuck, Haechan—” you swear, trying to squirm away from him. 
“Where you goin’, baby?” he chuckles, moving forward to follow you. “We’re not done here.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Spread those pretty legs for me.” he coaxes, kissing where your knees meet before trailing more, wetter kisses up your legs to right where your shorts end. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, granting you reprieve before hooking his fingers in your shorts and pulling them down off of your legs. He flings them behind himself, a soft muted thud sounding out somewhere behind him before he moves more onto the bed, lips attaching to your inner thigh to suck and lick at various patches of skin. “Gonna eat your pretty little pussy,” he grunts, pulling your underwear to the side, “and remind you there’s no one better than me.”
You refrain from telling him that you’re already quite aware of that, given that he’s made you cum every time without fail, because you don’t necessarily want to make him prove it again… and again… and again.
Your thoughts just about fly out of your head when he drags his tongue up your slit in a long, wet stripe and groans lewdly, the sound making heat rush to your face. He starts to lap at your core fervently, most certainly on some sort of mission as he massages the underside of your clit with his tongue. 
His fingers find their way back to your entrance, lips wrapping around your pulsing clit just as he slips two digits into you. You cry out at the pleasure, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he ravishes your poor sensitive core with his tongue and fingers. 
His eyes are closed at first, losing himself in the taste of you, and you can just barely see where his fingers keep disappearing into you. There are wet sounds coming from your core with every move he makes, but you don’t even have it in you to be properly embarrassed, your mind reeling with pleasure as he tends to you.
“Tastes so fucking good, baby.” he groans, making an obnoxiously loud slurping noise, and you whine, all the embarrassment you lacked before making its way to the surface of your cheeks as you flop back down, throwing an arm over your face. “No, no, no, look at me.” he urges, mouth still pressed to your core. “Want you to watch me eat your pussy.”
“Fuck,” you curse weakly, propping yourself back up to watch him. His eyes are open now, laser-focused on your face as he slurps and licks and messily makes out with your core. With every moan and reaction from you, his eyes light up with a blazing intensity and after some point, his resolve seems to snap as he surges forward, practically burying his face in between your legs and licking at your folds as his fingers rapidly piston into you. “Holy shit—gonna cum again—”
“Damn right, you’re gonna cum.” he mumbles against your clit. “Wanna taste it, baby, cum for me—cum all over my tongue—”
Your peak hits again, this one making you almost see stars when you shut your eyes, and your head drops back as a string of swears leave your lips. You get one good look at the wild, almost awestruck look in Haechan’s eyes as he watches you before your arms give out and you collapse onto the bed, eyes fluttering shut once more.
He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, detaching his lips from your clit with a wet pop, and you can feel him moving to kneel on the bed between your legs, his hands pressing down on either side of your head as he (probably—you wouldn’t know since your eyelids feel too heavy to move) watches you.
“You still with me, baby?” he chuckles, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
All you can manage is a weak nod, and his responding laugh is smug and dark, prompting you to laboriously open your eyes to look at him. He’s hovering over you, eyes roving over your body and your face with a greedy sort of hunger in his gaze before he sits up, the telltale sound of his pants opening alerting you to what’s to come.
“I’m with you,” you finally answer, voice hoarse and thick with desire, and he grins widely, the smile almost devious as he leans back over you with one hand by your head.
“Good—because we’re not done yet.” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows. It’s devastatingly handsome and your core clenches with need as he wets his lips and finishes opening his pants, pushing them down his thighs and pulling his boxers down to let his length spring free.
For a moment, he kneels there, watching you with dark eyes as he pumps his fist up and down his length.
“I wish you could see how pretty you look,” he grunts, leaning back to get a good look at you. “Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”
Your cheeks blaze and you look away, flustered, but he turns your chin so you’re looking at him once more. 
“Look at me,” he urges breathlessly. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby—think you can do that for me?”
“Uh-huh—”
“Good girl.” he purrs, and the heat in your cheeks returns full force, as well as spreads to your core and inner thighs. “You ready?” he asks, bringing the tip of his length to your entrance. You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, poised to enter at a moment’s notice, and the thought thrills you, making you nod before you even realize what you’re doing.
He pushes into you slowly, making you gasp and push at his stomach. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just big, and you’re not as ready as you thought you were.
“Don’t run from it, baby.” he chuckles, voice throaty and deep as he pushes in more. The arm attached to your hand pressing against him bends and he grins, using the leeway to push in more. You let out a pathetic little moan as he slowly bottoms out in you, and he grins. “That’s right, baby, take it. Feel my cock nice and deep, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously. 
“Fits so nice and perfect—fuck, you feel so good, baby—” he groans before starting to pull out. He thrusts back in with a slow, fluid motion that makes your breath catch in your throat and gives you practically no time to recover, starting to rock his hips in and out with slow, smooth strokes that have your eyes rolling back.
When you cry out weakly and clap a hand over your mouth, he shakes his head with a teasing smile, starting to build up the pace.
“I want to hear you moan.” he urges. When a particularly well-placed thrust makes you whimper again, he frowns at you and yanks your hand from your mouth, pinning it beside your head. “Come on, pretty, you can do better than that.” he coaxes, reaching between you two with his free hand and massaging your clit in little circles that, when combined with his thrusts, make you swear loudly, a moan falling from your lips that makes him grin. “That’s more like it—sound so pretty, baby—”
He builds the pace even more, quick, powerful strokes into you making the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping on skin and the bed shifting fill the room as he effectively fucks you stupid, thoughtless words spilling from your lips.
“Right there—fuck, yes, there—”
“Here?” he teases, pressing down more firmly on your clit, and you nod, proceeding to babble more nonsense. You bite down on your lip, embarrassed by the noises you’re letting out, and he sucks his teeth. “Said I wanna hear you, right? Why are you biting your lip?”
“Too loud—it’s embarrassing,” you whine, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down to kiss you passionately.
“It’s you and me, baby,” he assures you against your lips. “Just you and me. Let me hear you.”
“Fuck, Haechan—please don’t stop—”
“That’s it, talk to me, baby,” he grunts, brows furrowing in concentration as he continues to fuck into you.
“Feels so good—you’re so good to me—”
“That’s right, baby—no one’s better than me—” he pants, and you shake your head in agreement.
“No, just you—”
“This is what you want, right? You don’t want losers like that guy—”
“Shut up about him—”
“You want me,” he asserts, and you nod with a mewl of pleasure. “That’s right, pretty, you’re mine.”
“Yours,” you agree breathlessly, and his responding smile is positively radiant. “You’re—mm—”
“I’m what, hm?” he coaxes, almost as if he knows what you’re about to say.
“You’re mine,” you gasp, and he nods vigorously, grinning from ear to ear.
“This is yours, baby—it’s all yours,” he promises, and you nod back, shallow breaths leaving you with every thrust. “Look at me, pretty girl,” he urges, and when you do, he puckers his lips at you in an air kiss. “What’s my name?”
“Hae—chan,” you whimper, and he beams at you, nodding encouragingly.
“Yes, baby, good girl—who’s doing this to you, hm? Who’s making you feel this good?”
“You, Haechan, you—” You’re sure you’re losing your mind with all the combined pleasure of his fingers, his length, and his words. “Fuck—gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum—”
“I am?” he wonders aloud with a teasing lilt to his voice. “I shouldn’t stop then, huh?”
“No,” you’re quick to reply, shaking your head with tears building in your eyes. The sounds of lovemaking are only getting louder, the soundscape consuming you as you start to succumb to the pleasure. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—wanna cum so bad, Haechan—”
“Then cum, baby—wanna feel you clench nice and tight around my cock—”
“Cum–ming—I’m cumming—” you whine, fingers clutching at the bed sheets as your orgasm takes over you. Your eyes rolling back into your head and your lids fluttering shut, your back alternates between arching and curling in on itself, your mind on the brink of ecstasy as he brings you to a powerful climax.
“God, baby, you’re sucking my cock in—what a greedy girl,” he teases, but there’s a strain to his voice that lets you know he’s close as well.
“Cum, Haechan—please, wanna feel it, want you to fill me—”
“Shit—” he curses loudly, his head dropping forward as his thrusts slow to a jerky stop before he’s bottoming out in you, balls pressed to your ass as he releases into you, your walls flexing around him rhythmically from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, milk my cock just like that—gonna give you every drop—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble mindlessly. “Want it—give it to me—”
“All yours, baby, all yours,” he promises as his length throbs inside of you. The two of you stay in that position, catching your breath for several moments, before he pulls out of you carefully, making you sigh in disappointment. “Don’t tell me you want more?” he jokes, and you shake your head immediately, certain you can’t handle another orgasm right now.
“No, it just—felt good.” you mumble shyly, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is much sweeter than the previous ones and you can practically feel his satisfaction through the lip lock as he slowly molds his lips with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a quick taste.
“There’s more where that came from, baby, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” he promises, and you’re surprised that genuine relief fills your insides. “Now—”
“Shut up.”
“But—you don’t even know what I was about to say!”
“I could tell by the tone of your voice,” you reply with a tired but amused smile.
“Oh, yeah? What was I gonna say?”
“Something about that dude.” 
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle and a roll of your eyes. 
“Was just gonna say he definitely couldn’t do what I just did.”
“Most certainly could not. He couldn’t even dance.” you snicker, and he grins, satisfied with your answer.
“Good. Now that we’ve established that, do you wanna, um, go back?”
“No?” you reply, confused. “Are you crazy?”
“No, just trying to make sure I didn’t literally drag you away from a good time.”
“You didn’t,” you assure him, and he smiles, relieved. “Wanna order, like… room service or something?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” he agrees instantly, flopping down beside you on his stomach. You internally apologize to the room cleaning service for when they have to clean your cum-stained sheets, but thankfully, they’re white, so the evidence of your activities might remain a mystery to anyone beyond your room.
As Haechan starts scrolling through the online menu for room service food, you think back to the possessive behavior he just displayed and realize, to your surprise, you have no qualms about it—hell, you would even encourage it. 
“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you say, patting the back of his thigh before slowly climbing to your feet. You adjust your top and bra so your breasts aren’t exposed and shuffle to the bathroom, glad Haechan’s too engrossed in reading the food options to notice the way your legs are slightly trembling. When you get in the bathroom, however, you gasp loudly after you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror.
“What?” Haechan calls out, alarmed, and you poke your head out of the bathroom to glower at him. 
“Did you have to leave so many marks?” you complain, and he looks up from his phone, looking over the marks left on your neck and chest appreciatively.
“I did, actually.” he replies smugly, and you roll your eyes before shutting the door again before he can see the smile growing on your lips.
“Unbelievable.” you mutter through your smile, inspecting the love bites littered all over your skin. “How the hell am I gonna cover all of these up?”
Even as you tilt your head this way and that to get a good look at the damage Haechan inflicted on your skin, you can’t help but smile as you realize you don’t really mind all that much. 
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In the morning, you wake up to Haechan draped over you, his arm and leg positioned over your body in such a way that any real attempts to get up would wake him as well. 
“Haechan,” you whisper, your morning voice hoarse. He doesn’t move. You try again. “Haechan.”
“Mm?” he grunts, still very much asleep, and you sigh loudly, moving his arm off of you. He whines and pulls you closer, putting his arm back where it was.
“Haechan.” you say, a seriousness to your voice that you know will get through his sleepy brain. Sure enough, his brow furrows as he opens his eyes, squinting at you sleepily. You ignore how delectable he looks right now with mussed up hair and puffy morning lips.
“What?” he groans, burying his face in your neck as he holds onto you.
“You’re breaking the rules.” you point out, flicking at his arm and leg trapping you in place.
“What rules?” he mumbles groggily, and you sigh, trying to hide your amusement and fondness at his sleepy confusion.
“Our rules,” you remind him, and he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “fuck the rules” before pressing his face into your neck and breathing in deeply. “No cuddling? Remember that?”
He shifts slightly, mumbling much more clearly now. “I’m not cuddling, I’m… huddling for warmth.”
“Haechan.” you say with a sigh, not buying it for a second.
“Mm?” he sounds mildly annoyed now, and you bite back a laugh.
“The heater is literally on, and you’re hot as fuck.”
Even in his half-awake state, the corners of his lips tug into a smirk. “Why, thank you.”
“No, you dolt, I’m talking about body temperature,” you reply with a hint of exasperation. “You’re very warm.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” he mutters, waving you off dismissively. “Just go back to sleep.”
“Not until you release me from your cuddling clutches.”
“Not happening.”
“So you admit you’re cuddling me right now.”
“If I say we’re cuddling,” he says, sounding significantly more awake, and you can’t help but notice that his morning voice is deeply arousing, his timbre significantly lower and deeper and even a bit raspy. “Will you go back to sleep?”
“No! We’re not supposed to do this.” you complain, and he props his head up to regard you with sleepy eyes and a deadpan gaze.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“The cuddling. Am I hurting you?”
“Well—no,” you mumble, and he nods.
“Do you dislike it?” he asks, and you pause. “I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice still authoritative even in his drowsy state as he squeezes you slightly.
“No,” you admit quietly, and he smiles, pleased.
“Great. Now here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna lay your pretty little head back down and go back to sleep just like this.”
“Am I?”
“I could always fuck you until you pass out.” he offers, and you blink, not expecting that at all. At your stunned silence, he chuckles softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Sound good? Or would you rather go back to sleep on your own?”
“I’ll, um,” you mumble, “I’ll go back to sleep on my own.”
He smiles again, eyes closed as he nods and pats your side in approval. “Good girl. Good night.”
“It’s 9:46am,” you point out, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.
“Time is a social construct. Now go back to sleep and let me hold you, woman.”
“...Fine.” you mutter, settling back down in his arms, and he shifts closer, pecking your neck and up to your cheek slowly.
“Good night, baby,” he says again, and you heave a small little sigh of defeat.
“Good night, Haechan.” you reply, and he hums in satisfaction before laying his head back down and falling back asleep almost instantly.
As you listen to the heater whirring and Haechan’s soft breathing, you can’t help but wonder if he had a point when he sleepily told you, “Fuck the rules.”
Maybe the rules were a bit outdated, anyway, you think as you drift off to sleep, secretly relishing his secure hold and warmth radiating from his body. 
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“This shit is hard,” Jiwoo complains after her fourth attempt to get the ball in the hole. “How does Tiger Woods do it?”
“It’ll remain a mystery for ages to come,” you sigh. “Whose idea was mini golf, anyway?”
“Mine,” Jihyo says with a frown, and you pause, rethinking your words.
“And what a great idea it was,” you assure her. “It’s fun, conveniently fifteen minutes away from the hotel, and it’s inexpensive! I just think I’d be having more fun if I was, like, good at it, y’know?”
“Want help lining up your shot?” Haechan offers, and you turn back to look at him, rolling your eyes slightly at his suggestively raised eyebrows and playful grin.
“Yeah, actually.” you say, beckoning him closer. He pushes his golf club into Renjun’s unsuspecting arms immediately and makes his way over to you, standing behind you. His hands fall to your hips as he gently moves you into the proper position, and they glide up your sides and down your arms until his hands are clasped over yours. 
“Damn, Haechan, way to grope our friend in front of my very eyes.” Mark remarks sarcastically.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haechan defends himself, huffing under his breath before returning his attention to you. “Plus, you like it, don’t you?” he coos in your ear, and you let out a flustered giggle, squirming away from his lips.
“Shut up,” you mumble with a smile, but it just seems to prove Haechan’s point, the cockiness radiating off of him in waves as he guides your arms to swing the club, the ball rolling down the green path before tipping over the edge and landing in the hole. You beam as you turn around to celebrate with Haechan, his arms already outstretched for a hug. You step into his embrace readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him as he sways you both from side to side.
“Not you two dry humping on the mini golf course,” Mark groans, gesturing at you in disbelief. “Have some respect for the Putt Putt Brothers!”
“First of all, how is a hug dry humping?” you start in on Mark, turning around with an accusatory pointed finger at him. “Second of all, that is not the name of this establishment, you nitwit.”
“Hey!” Mark yelps, clutching his chest defensively. “I was joking—”
“You’re joking now that I called you on it, huh?” you counter, raising your eyebrows, and Mark huffs, crossing his arms and muttering something about public indecency and the sanctity of friendships. When you turn back to Haechan, he’s watching you with intense intrigue, an impressed expression on his face. “What?” you ask, voice now devoid of any (playful) edge to it.
“That was pretty hot.” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes with a growing bashful smile. “No, really—kinda want you to snap at me like that.”
“Cause me mild to severe annoyance and my wrath is all yours,” you say, patting his chest twice with a playful smile before stepping out of his embrace. You’ve barely made it ten steps into your attempt to catch up to your friends before you whip back around to face Haechan once more. “I’m joking. Please don’t piss me off.” 
“I’ll try not to, but… you’re just so hot when you’re irritated.” he says with a shrug and a shameless grin, and you snort in amusement, looking over your shoulder to see that your friends are split between one course away from yours and the rest are at the drink bar, blissfully unaware of what you two are up to. 
“That’s an interesting kink of yours,” you muse. “Where’d you pick that up at?”
“Not you kinkshaming me?” he gasps. “And to think I trusted you.”
“Oh, hush. I said it was interesting.” 
“Interesting is code for weird.” he says with a frown, and you coo sympathetically, cupping his chin affectionately. 
“I just wanna understand it more,” you explain. “Like… a psychoanalysis.”
“You wanna be my shrink?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh, that’s hot.”
“I swear, you’re getting more fascinating by the minute.” you chuckle in disbelief.
“Can I put my head in your lap and tell you all my troubles while you play with my hair?” he sighs hopefully, and you blink, stunned. 
“You think you’re allowed to put your head in the lap of a shrink?”
“Well, no, but you’re not just any shrink, y’know? You’re my sexy shrink.” he says with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, and you exhale loudly through your nose in surprised amusement.
“And what does your sexy shrink do, hm? What’s in the job description?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in sarcastic curiosity.
“You, my sexy shrink, let me put my head in your lap—”
“We got that one.” you interject, but he carries on like you haven’t spoken.
“And play with my hair, and, y’know, if I’m in need of a little… sexual therapy, then you’re there.” 
You stare at him blankly. “I can’t believe you really stood there and made that up.” 
He shrugs casually. “Off the dome, baby; off the dome.”
“Yeah, a hollow ass dome,” you chuckle, and he gasps.
“Hollow?!” he squawks indignantly, and you nod, grinning gleefully.
You bring a knuckle to his forehead and knock gently. “Thunk, thunk.”
“You’re so mean,” Haechan huffs.
“Yet you’re hard.” you say with a roll of your eyes, but you’re confused when Haechan looks at you with restrained panic. “What is it?”
“You can see it?” he asks worriedly. 
You blink in confusion, gaze drifting downwards and—”Haechan, you’re joking.” 
“I wish I could joke about this.” he laments, and you start to giggle, clapping a hand over your mouth. “It’s not funny!”
“It very much is funny, actually—you stood here daydreaming about me being your sexy shrink and you popped a boner.” you snicker, and he scowls at you, not a shred of malice in his gaze to back it up.
“Can you stop laughing and help me?” he pleads, and you splutter in confusion.
“And how am I going to help you? I’m not sneaking off with you!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper, and he frowns deeply, eyes pleading with you. “Don’t give me that look.”
“Baby, please?” he mumbles, and you’re ashamed to admit that all your resolve just crumbled at the sound of his voice cracking slightly towards the end.
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“Do you guys ever wonder what those two get up to when they disappear?” Mark asks, and there’s a moment of silence.
“Briefly, yeah, but I don’t like to dwell on it,” Renjun answers with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“They’re kinda cute together, no?” Jihyo hums thoughtfully, and Jaemin shrugs.
“Little bit, actually. I have to agree.” Jaemin adds with a wise nod. 
“Not to get sentimental, but do you guys remember when we, like, all hung out for the first time?” Jiwoo thinks aloud.
“Because we kept hearing about each other through each other but we’d never had us all together in one room… so Jaemin crashed out and made us hang out.”
“I did not crash out! I just tracked everyone down and made a group chat and guilt tripped all of you into coming.” Jaemin answers defensively.
“Admitting to the guilt tripping years later is wild.” Mark chuckles.
“I’m not ashamed.” Jaemin says with a shrug. “I’d do it again.”
“That’s all well and good, but back to what I was saying,” Jiwoo butts in. “We probably should have anticipated those two disappearing frequently in the future because they kept sneaking off together that day!” 
“They really did, didn’t they? There are so many times where they’re just… nowhere to be found.” Jeno remarks curiously.
“It’s their thing,” Jihyo remarks protectively. “Let them do their thing.”
“It’s probably Haechan’s doing,” Jeno muses. “Probably drags the poor girl off to fuck around and do Lord knows what.”
“Oh, please, you know she likes to wander.” Jiwoo points out. “She probably gets restless and starts to roam, and Haechan—”
“Would follow her off a cliff without her even asking.” Renjun chuckles.
“Exactly.” Jaemin agrees. “So it’s both of them.”
“Should we tell them we know?” Mark wonders, and Jihyo rolls her eyes, placing a hand on her hip.
“Let them figure out whatever the hell is going on between them first? Besides, I don’t see the appeal in forcibly bearing witness to their weird little relationship.” she replies, and Mark nods thoughtfully.
“Good point, good point… so we don’t say anything? We just…” Mark trails off.
“Let them do their thing.” Jihyo finishes, and Mark nods with a shrug.
“I guess.”
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One rushed and hushed orgasm later, you and Haechan are back on the scene with your friends, all of you laughing at Renjun’s failed attempt to get the ball in the hole while staying under par when you feel a set of eyes on you. Your skin crawls as you look around, finally making eye contact with the guy from the festival from yesterday, and he grins at you, his smile still eerily wide and eager. 
“Oh, brother.” you sigh, offering him a tiny, very fake smile before returning your attention to your friends. 
“What’s wrong?” Jiwoo asks, stepping closer to you and speaking lowly. “Everything alright?”
“It’s that weirdo from yesterday—Chad.” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s here.”
“Ew.”
“Right?” 
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think he’s coming over here.” she says carefully, and you look around for Haechan instantly, your heart dropping when he’s nowhere in sight.
“I’m gonna disappear for a minute,” you say as surreptitiously as possible, and she nods, squeezing your hand gently.
“Be safe, okay? Anything happens, just scream and we’ll come running.” she promises, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“Will do. Thanks, girl.” you say gratefully, walking off quickly. 
“Hey, wait up!” you hear Chad say, and you sigh internally before turning around and looking at him with raised eyebrows. “How are you?” he says when he finally catches up to you. 
“I’m alright; you?” you say politely, and he shrugs, flashing that wolfish grin again.
“I’m great now that I’m seeing you.” he replies and you’re sure that would have worked if, say, Haechan had said it, but you find yourself fighting back a grimace.
“Cool.” you say shortly, smiling politely before turning to leave.
“Wait!” he calls out, and you blink hard before turning back around. “I got you a drink.” He thrusts the cup at you, and you eye it suspiciously.
“I’m okay, actually.” you tell him, patting his hand before pushing the cup back at him.
His brows knit together and he shakes his head. “No, really, I insist.”
You contemplate just taking the drink to be polite, but you really don’t like the glint in his eye like he’s planning something, and it gives you a sinking feeling that he may have done something to the drink.
“I’m fine,” you insist. “Really.”
“Come on, I got a drink just for you and you won’t even try it?”
“Listen—Charlie—”
“Chad,” he corrects you, and you pause, nodding.
“My bad. I don’t want the drink. I’m actually, uh, all full of drinks and was heading to the bathroom. So… I’m gonna go do that.” you inform him, and a scowl passes over his face for half a second but you catch it all the same.
“It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” he says with an unnerving smile, setting it on the countertop by where you’re standing. 
“I just said I don’t want it.” you say flatly, losing your patience rapidly.
“And I said it’ll be waiting for you.” he counters, and you raise your eyebrows.
“Yeah, alright.” you mutter, shooting him a passive aggressive thumbs up and a smile that definitely does not reach your eyes. “See ya.” 
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When you exit the bathroom, you look around to see if Chad is anywhere nearby, and sigh in relief when you see that he’s not.
To your relief, you spot Haechan’s back at the drinks stand and walk over to him. As you do, you pass the drink Chad left for you and promptly smack the cup, knocking it and its contents onto the grass.
“Whoops.” you mumble sarcastically, picking up the cup and tossing it in the nearest garbage before continuing your walk to Haechan. He turns when you call his name, smiling widely as you give him a small wave. “Hey,” you finally say when you make it to him.
“Hey,” he says with a small grin. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah, actually, I’d love one.” you answer, smiling back at him. 
“Pick what you want, baby.” he offers, gesturing at the menu. You peruse it carefully and decide to go with a virgin piña colada, telling the bartender your selection. “Good choice,” he praises, and you smile at him warmly.
“Thanks.” you say with a giggle, the smile slipping off your face when you spot Chad off to the side in the distance. He hasn’t seen you just yet, and you’d like to keep it that way. “Hey, Haechan?” you call quietly, tugging at the side of his shirt. He turns around immediately, brows furrowed at the concern in your voice.
“What’s wrong?” he responds, voice low as he scans your face. “You okay?”
“Not really,” you answer honestly, and his brows knit together even more.
“What happened?”
“Remember that guy from yesterday? At the music festival?” you say, and irritation flashes across his face for a moment before it’s gone, his clenched jaw the only reminder that it was there. “Well, he’s here, and he’s bothering me.”
“Where is he?” Haechan says without a moment of hesitation, looking over you and around the course, and you cup his face and turn his head back to face yours.
“I don’t want you to fight him,” you chuckle softly, and he cracks a small smile at your laugh, nodding in understanding. “I need a favor from you.”
“Anything,” he agrees instantly, and you can’t help but laugh again, endeared by how willing he is to help you.
“Can you… pretend to be my boyfriend? So he’ll leave me alone?” you request hopefully, and he nods readily, pausing to think for a moment.
“How far do you want me to go?” he asks curiously, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s excitement creeping into his voice.
“As far as you need to go to sell it.” you answer with a shrug, and he grins.
“Copy that.”
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You’re walking to the next course with Haechan several feet behind the rest of your friends, his fingers wrapped around yours protectively, when his grip tightens slightly out of nowhere. When you look around, confused, Haechan moves to stand in front of you, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes.
“He’s right over there,” he murmurs urgently. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he warns you, and you nod, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He leans in and connects your lips in a kiss so casually possessive that it makes your head spin. He clutches at your waist, pulling you up against him as he moves his lips against yours fervently. When you whimper faintly into the kiss, he groans and pulls back ever so slightly, mumbling, “Better keep a handle on those cute little noises before I take you back to the hotel.”
“If that guy sticks around, maybe you should.” you hum invitingly, and he chuckles darkly, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.
“What did I say about tempting me?” he says softly, nose nuzzling against your own. You feel the guy’s eyes on you as he passes by and, as if he can sense it, Haechan pulls you into another kiss, this one markedly more heated and handsy than the first. One hand slides down the small of your back and caresses where your asscheek meets your thigh, his lips parting from yours as he kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking with a hint of possessiveness to his actions. “Mine,” he speaks against your skin, and goosebumps erupt on your arms as you swallow thickly.
There’s no way he said that loudly enough for the guy to hear, and it hits you that he might not have even had the man in mind when he said it, and now hope, along with excitement, blooms in your chest.
“Yeah? Yours?” you ask softly, and he kisses back up to your lips, capturing them in a slow, nasty kiss complete with his tongue pushing into your mouth and stroking at your own. When you gently suck on his tongue, he grunts, the sound filled with surprise and desire as he pulls back slowly to look you in the eyes.
“You’re a tease.” he breathes, a warning undertone to his voice, and you shake your head in disagreement. “No? You’re not? Then what was that just now?”
“That was me telling you,” you say as you pull him closer and bring your lips to his ear, “that I want you to take me back to the hotel room.”
He stiffens in surprise, and pulls back to look at you, searching your face for any signs of a joke. When you nod encouragingly, he grins widely, looping his fingers around yours once more and tugging you towards your friends. 
“I don’t feel well,” you lie, frowning at Jihyo. “I wanna go back to the hotel and lie down for a bit.”
“Oh, no,” Jihyo coos, walking over to you and placing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You do feel a little warm,” she remarks worriedly, and you thank Haechan’s kissing skills for the slight feverish effect they’ve had on you. “Are you gonna go alone?” she asks, concerned, and Haechan shakes his head.
“I’m gonna take her back,” he tells her, and she nods, satisfied. 
“Okay, well—feel better, babe,” she says sincerely, and you nod, smiling feebly.
“I’ll try.” 
As you two walk away and are out of sight of your friends, Haechan slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple.
“You feel a little warm, huh?” he teases. “Maybe you should take some of those clothes off when we get back.”
“Mm, I feel so weak,” you sigh dramatically, looking up at him through your lashes. “Will you help me?”
He stops short, looking at you with incredulity and gradually building delight in his eyes, before stammering, “I—well—yes, hell, yes—how far are we from the hotel? Wanna take an Uber?”
“Yeah,” you hum, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing. “I’m just… so hot.” 
“Hell yeah, you are, baby.” he mumbles distractedly as he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and opens the Uber app. 
Once the Uber is booked, Haechan sits on a bench on the sidewalk, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. 
It dawns on you several moments later that the guy you’ve been avoiding is probably long gone, and you wonder if Haechan has noticed the same, the male seemingly committed to keeping up the role of your affectionate boyfriend.
You think on it for a moment, pondering how good his arms feel around you and how soft his lips are when he kisses you, and decide two things: one, you won’t remind him just yet, and two, that you hope Haechan never realizes his fake boyfriend duties are (probably) no longer needed.
With this new decision comes a realization: you like Haechan far more than you thought you did in the beginning, and as Haechan nuzzles into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss, you wish he meant it with all the romantic intent and none of the casualness. 
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Today, the eight of you are at the local Fire Island zoo, walking around the exhibits and you’re having a great time; that is, until you’re stopping in the middle of the path to take a photo of the wildlife, your friends continuing on, and you feel two arms wrapping around your waist from behind and Haechan’s chin on your shoulder.
“Haechan,” you murmur, trying not to draw the attention of your friends a few feet ahead of you.
“Mm, yes?” he hums, nose in your hair by your neck. 
“You’re breaking the rules, like, real bad right now.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“And what rule am I guilty of breaking?” he murmurs against your neck, and you squirm, turning around to face him. He never lets go of you, so your turn to face him is more of a shuffle-pivot as you remain trapped in his embrace.
“No PDA!” you remind him in a whisper, and he raises his eyebrows.
“I’m protecting you.” he says into your neck, smiling against your skin, and you whine weakly under your breath, head tilting back subconsciously to allow him better access.
“From what?” you ask, confused.
“That creep from before,” he answers, his grip tightening on you for a second as he recalls the incident. “The one that tried to dance on you and take you home—what if he’s here? Lurking in the shadows?”
You snort in amusement, casting a glance over your shoulder to see that your friends have yet to notice you and Haechan significantly farther behind them. With a small sigh of relief, you turn your head back to face Haechan, who’s since lifted his head from your neck and is now looking down at you intently.
“So your holding onto me and your not-very-subtle neck kisses… are your ways of protecting me?”
“Yes.” 
“Even though the creep from yesterday has yet to be seen in this location today?”
“Mhm.”
“And there’s nothing in it for you?”
“Nope.” 
“Nothing at all?”
“I’m just doing my due diligence as your appointed fake boyfriend.” he says smoothly, and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. The two of you engage in a brief staredown, where you’re trying to get him to crack and he sticks firmly to his guns. It’s an unshakable conundrum and you realize fairly quickly that he’s not going to break.
“Sure you are.” you say finally with a roll of your eyes.
“Plus,” Haechan says, pulling you a little closer with a sudden tug, “don’t act like you don’t like it.” 
“So if this is purely a business transaction—the fulfillment of a contract, so to speak—”
“Uh-huh.”
“You won’t mind if I terminate the deal?” you say with a coy tilt of your head, satisfaction flooding your system when his face falls ever so slightly.
“Uh… but what if he shows up again?”
“We can renegotiate.” you say with a wry smile.
“...Fine.” he grumbles, releasing you, and you smile, pleased with yourself, but inside you’re surprised to find a hint of disappointment at the loss of his touch.
“Good. Now come on, we’re, like, miles behind them.” you urge him, turning to rush through the crowds of people. 
Haechan’s hand slips into your own and you look back in surprise to see him smiling innocently at you.
“So we don’t get separated.” he says, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously, looking down at his hand wrapped around yours and up at his guiltless expression and back down at your hands before you sigh in defeat. 
“Come on.” you relent, pulling him after you as you speed walk to catch up to your friends.
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Haechan seems determined to test you today—whether it’s your patience or your resolve, you have yet to find out, but he is most certainly putting you through a series of trials on this zoo outing. You’re in line for the petting zoo, and you’re minding your business when you feel a hand slip into yours. You look over to see Haechan casually standing next to you, looking around innocently.
“Haechan.” you murmur surreptitiously. 
“Yes?”
“Why are you holding my hand?” you ask, continuing as he opens his mouth to speak, “And don’t say it’s so we don’t get separated, because we’re standing still. In line.”
“My hand is cold.” he says, and you turn to look at him, blinking impassively.
“You know I can feel your hand, right?”
“Does it feel good?”
“Ignoring that. Your hand is warm—very warm, actually.” you say flatly.
“It feels cold to me.” 
“So you have a fever and should go back to the hotel and rest?” you say, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.
“No!”
“So you’re fine and your hand is at normal temperature? So you lied? Or did you make a miraculous recovery? Should I call CNN?” you continue, and he glowers at you.
“Can’t I just hold your hand without all the questions?”
“Well, no.” you say, looking at him like he’s dumb. “On account of those rules we set.”
“Rules this, rules that,” Haechan grumbles, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe some rules were meant to be broken.”
“Wh–What?” you say, baffled. “That makes no sense—why would rules be made in the first place if they’re just meant to be broken? They make rules so people don’t break them, you little scoff-law, you.”
“Wasn’t aware I was messing around with a goody two-shoes,” Haechan drawls in response, and you splutter indignantly.
“I’m not a goody two-shoes,” you huff.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” you gripe back, turning on your heel as the line moves up, You move to walk ahead, but Haechan holds on fast to your hand, essentially tethering you to him as you attempt to pull him forward with you and he digs his heels in the sand, so to speak. When you growl to yourself in frustration, he tugs you towards him, your legs giving way to his pulling easily. “What, Haechan?” you complain as you find yourself in his embrace once more.
“You’re not a goody two-shoes, right?” he reminds you, and you furrow your brows in confusion, nodding slowly.
“Right.”
He peeks over your shoulder, presumably to see if your friends are looking, before returning his gaze to you, shooting you a devastatingly handsome playful grin. “So kiss me.”
“What?! No!”
“Why not?”
“Why not? We just established the creep from yesterday isn’t around,” you remind him, “and we ended the fake relationship contract. So are you asking me to kiss you as Haechan, my previously employed fake boyfriend, or Haechan, my friend in public?”
“I’m asking you to kiss me as Haechan, your friend in public who just really wants to kiss you right now.” he murmurs urgently, and you blink in surprise. 
“Why?”
“Why not? You look good as hell today, and it’s not a crime to want to kiss a pretty girl.”
“Wh—but—our friends are, like, a handful of feet away!” you protest weakly, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.
“They’re too far ahead in line,” he explains. “They can’t see us back here. But just to be safe,” Haechan says, angling your bodies in such a way that they’re partially concealed by one of the metal pillars holding up the overhead structure above your heads. “Now they definitely can’t see us.” He looks down at you, that frustratingly alluring grin back on his face as he leans closer, invading your space teasingly, before murmuring. “So kiss me.”
You nibble your bottom lip nervously, leaning upwards slightly to peek over his shoulder at your friends. Satisfied when you’re greeted with the sight of their backs completely turned and unaware, you rock back down onto your heels and grip the front of Haechan’s shirt, pulling him down to you for a quick kiss.
He smiles against your lips and tugs you closer, deepening the kiss slightly as he sucks gently at your bottom lip. 
When you two part with a muted wet sound, your cheeks are blazing with heat, and Haechan has perhaps the most smug grin you’ve ever seen anyone sport… well, ever.
“Now was that so hard?” he coos, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Let’s go catch up,” he says, releasing your waist but lacing his fingers with yours. 
As Haechan leads you to your friends once more, you can’t help but attempt to rationalize the situation, feeling more than a little frustration when all that comes to mind are a slew of questions you don’t know how to answer..
Is he holding your hand and kissing you in public because he likes you, or is he just feeling frisky and affectionate? Is he developing feelings for you, or is he just getting too comfortable? Are the rules you two established actually dumb, or have the circumstances just outgrown them? What exactly even are the circumstances between you and Haechan? Does he have a different perception of what’s going on? Is there something he’s not telling you?
Are you distancing yourself because you’re trying to keep things casual, or do you have feelings for him?
The last question makes you pause, brows knitted together in thought. Do you have feelings for Haechan?
When you truly think about it, you realize that not only do you, not only that you did in the first place, but also that you must have always had feelings for him, because you know good and well you wouldn’t agree to being friends with benefits if you didn’t have an iota of something for him. 
Haechan takes you out of your spiral of questions with no answers by gently smoothing out the space between your eyebrows, his hand dropping slightly to caress your cheek. 
“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his handsome features. “Was it too much to ask you to kiss me just now?” 
“No,” you assure him. “I’m okay—and it wasn’t too much.”
“You sure?” he presses gently, and you’re not sure which question he’s referring to, but you know you don’t want to answer the first and open that can of worms, so you resort to only addressing the second question.
“It was kinda hot,” you confess, and he raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised and just a bit skeptical.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I kinda like when you make me do stuff.” you admit sheepishly. 
Haechan’s lips twitch, the male in front of you fighting back a smile as he continues to watch you suspiciously. “You’re not just saying that to distract me from how you’re feeling?”
You wish for a moment that he wasn’t as perceptive as he is.
“I mean everything I just said,” you assure him, and his lips stretch into a smile.
“I should boss you around more often then, huh?” he says with a flirtatious wiggle of his brows.
“Oh, hush.”
“No, really. Since apparently it gets you all hot and stuff.” he continues, leaning in to murmur in your ear. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
“You are a menace to society, but most importantly, you are a menace to me.” you sigh, and he laughs.
“You signed up for this roller coaster, baby. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
You squint at him. “What cheesy old movie did you steal that from?”
“Hey! That was pretty smooth!”
“If it was smooth—which it wasn’t—it would now be significantly less smooth given the fact that you were trying way too hard to be smooth in the first place.”
“You’re mean.”
“You like it.”
“Yeah, I do.” he sighs dreamily, looking at you with such a tenderness behind his eyes that it almost makes your knees weak. “I really do.”
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“I don’t know how to prove it, but I feel like Haechan’s cheating.” Jaemin huffs as​​ the “Perfect Score!” screen appears on Haechan’s playthrough of Michael Jackson: The Experience on the Wii. 
“Never that,” Haechan boasts. “I’m just better than you.”
“And so humble, too,” you joke sarcastically, making Jeno snort. 
“Hey—when Haechan finishes his power trip, can we play Mario Kart?” Mark asks hopefully, and various utterings of assent sound out from around the room.
“I’m not on a power trip! I’m just insanely skilled at this.” Haechan defends himself, glowering at Mark as “Do You Remember the Time” starts playing. “Now, hush, it’s my encore.”
You watch with fascination as Haechan nails the choreography and are only a little bit surprised when you realize that he looks incredibly attractive right now.
“He’s got a home advantage,” Jaemin gripes, crossing his arms. 
You look at him in confusion. “This is my house.”
“No, like, with Michael Jackson; he was probably raised on this game.” Mark sighs.
“I may have played it almost every day after school.” Haechan admits sheepishly, and Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark jeer in distaste.
“Cheater! Yo, get this fool out of here!” Mark complains, and you whack Mark with a nearby pillow, making him splutter and Haechan laugh. His smile is radiant, tanned skin glistening with sweat and hair messy in all the right ways, and you find yourself swooning internally.
“Thanks for having my back,” Haechan says appreciatively, and you nod with a sweet smile.
“Anytime."
As the song ends, Haechan relinquishes the controls to Mark and sits down next to you, breathing heavily. It doesn’t dawn on you that you’re still watching Haechan until he looks over at you and grins flirtatiously, flicking his eyebrows upward as he watches you.
“You like what you see?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and you, in a daze, nod. His eyebrows raise once more in surprise and he slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do you, now?”
“Careful—” you mumble, and he sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes.
“Who cares?” he murmurs in your ear. “Let them see.”
“No,” you protest weakly, but he shushes you, lips grazing along your ear before sliding down to behind your earlobe. 
“Not you two cuddled up on the couch like lovers,” Jihyo calls out from across the room, and you freeze as your friends turn to look at you and Haechan.
“I’m feeling cuddly and she’s right here… perfect for cuddling.” Haechan replies with a shrug and a nuzzle into your neck. “Friends can cuddle.”
“Not like that, they can’t,” Renjun counters, and Haechan glowers at him.
“Just because you don’t like cuddling doesn’t mean it’s unnatural and weird.” he retorts, and you nod in agreement.
“Cuddling never hurt anyone,” you back Haechan up, and Renjun rolls his eyes.
“Great, now they’re on the same side again.” he laments, and Haechan grins at you.
“We make a good team.” he coos at you, and you roll your eyes with a smile, trying to fight down the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Wanna team up again to fight for Chinese food for dinner?” you ask hopefully, and he scans your face slowly before a smile curls his lips.
“I’d be honored.”
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Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen washing your dish when you hear familiar footsteps shuffling into the room. You don’t turn to see who it is, your hypothesis proven when Haechan sighs loudly in an obvious attempt to get your attention.
“Yes, Haechan?” you chuckle, and he shuffles closer to you, standing beside you and watching as you wash the bowl in the sink.
“Why’d you leave?” he whines, his arm brushing against yours slightly.
“I had to wash my dish now or I was never going to do it.” you sigh, and he snickers, moving from beside you to stand right behind you.
“Well, are you almost done?” he asks hopefully, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck. “I miss you.” he mumbles against your skin, and the heartfelt words combined with his lips brushing against your neck practically make your knees buckle.
“I mean, I’m rinsing it now,” you say slowly, “so, yes, I’m almost done. And I missed you too.” 
“Mm, really?” he muses, pressing a soft kiss to your neck that makes you fight back the urge to squirm, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses another kiss to your neck in the exact same spot.
“Yes, really.” you mumble, trying to control yourself and not make any sort of noise or reaction that could spur him on further or blow your cover.
“Good. You smell really good,” he groans, breathing in deeply against your neck, and you can’t hide the small shiver that travels down your spine. He presses his spit-slicked lips to your neck, parting them to suck gently at the skin as you curl your fingers up in the dish cloth and bite back a whine. “So… fucking good.”
“You’re breaking the ‘no PDA’ rule. Again.” you point out, and he growls under his breath, shaking you slightly.
“No one’s even in here but us, so it’s private, not public. Now, shut up—you know you like it.” he huffs against your neck, leaving wet kisses down from your ear to your shoulder. 
“No way you’re trying to have sex right now.” you scoff incredulously.
“I’m truly not,” he promises you. “I just want to be close to you.”
“Oh.” you say softly, his words warming your heart. 
“Is that okay with you?” he asks, a hint of sass in his voice.
“Yeah, that’s okay with me.” you agree, and he smiles.
“Great.” he mumbles, sucking and licking at the base of your neck.
You’re so caught up in the mind-reeling sensation of Haechan kissing your neck and his earnest words that send you spiraling with a flurry of questions—like if this is still just something casual to him—that you don’t hear another set of footsteps heading towards the kitchen until Jihyo’s clearing her throat pointedly and you flinch. 
Haechan holds onto you still, lips still working away at your neck, as Jihyo raises an eyebrow expectantly and your cheeks blossom with heat.
“You know what?” Jihyo says, leaning against the doorway. “I’m not even mad, because I feel like I knew all along that you two were up to something.”
“Haechan, cut it out,” you whisper insistently. “I’ll be in the living room in a second.”
He sighs and reluctantly detaches himself from you, lips leaving your neck with a wet smacking noise that makes the heat in your face blaze even hotter, before exiting the kitchen with a sheepish grin at Jihyo.
It’s quiet for a moment as you dry your hands off with a paper towel, until Jihyo speaks.
“I really hope you know what you’re doing.” she says gently, and you pause, thinking over your next words carefully before deciding that honesty might just be the best policy.
“Gonna be real with you? I don’t.” you admit. “I’m just in it for the ride; we have fun together.”
Her brows could not possibly be closer to her hairline, skepticism written all over her face before she sighs and shrugs reluctantly. “Copy that, I guess.” She pushes off of the doorway and offers you her hand, jerking her head back towards the living room where you can hear the sounds of laughter and casual chatting. “You coming?”
You smile and take her hand, relieved she decided to let you be. “I’m coming.”
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“I landed on your property and you charged me, but she landed on it and you didn’t charge her anything?!” Renjun squawks indignantly when Haechan gives you a pass.
“Well, yes. You’re mean to me.” Haechan responds like it’s obvious, and Renjun grumbles something under his breath about favoritism and unfair advantages.
“Thank you, Haechan,” you say sweetly, and he smiles at you.
“You’re welcome.” 
“Okay, my turn!” Jeno exclaims, rolling the dice. He lands an eight and moves eight spaces, landing on a “Go to Jail” space, and groans loudly. “I hate Monopoly.”
“Whose idea was Monopoly, anyway?” Jaemin complains, and Jiwoo raises her hand.
“Monopoly is fun! It brings out everyone’s inner competitive side.” she defends herself, and Jeno rolls his eyes.
“Not too much on Jiwoo,” you say protectively, and she smiles at you gratefully. “Okay, my turn,” you say, rolling the dice. You land a six, and given that you were two spaces ahead of Jeno, you also land on the “Go to Jail” space. “Oh, man.” you say, frowning, and Haechan leans over to you, offering you something you can’t quite see yet.
“I have a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card if you want it,” he offers, and you smile brightly, taking the card from him.
“Thank you, Haechan,” you coo, and he smiles widely, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks.
“That is not how the game is played,” Mark points out, and Haechan waves him off.
“You’re just mad you own no properties.” Haechan teases, and Mark stares at him for a long moment before lunging over the table. Haechan shrieks as Mark shakes him roughly, and you pull Mark off with a poorly restrained laugh. 
“No throttling Haechan!” you defend him, and he all but cowers behind you, glaring at Mark.
“You’re lucky your little girlfriend was here to save you.” Mark huffs, and Haechan smiles smugly.
“I sure am,” he coos fondly, and you try to ignore the thrill you feel at being called Haechan’s girlfriend.
You make eye contact with Jihyo, who raises an eyebrow shrewdly, making you do away with the little smile you have in favor of a more neutral expression.
Haechan is anything but subtle, and you’re coming to realize that this arrangement probably won’t be a secret for much longer, making you worry about how your relationship with Haechan might change.
But when his hand finds yours under the table, squeezing gently, you can’t say you mind.
990 notes · View notes
gyubakeries · 23 days ago
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𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 | x.mh
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a/n: A BREAK FROM ANGST!!! this is very much needed, and the idea had been brewing for a while hehe. skye ( @etherealyoungk ) thank u for being my enabler. ally ( @lovetaroandtaemin ) , kae ( @ylangelegy ) and a ( @chugging-antiseptic-dye ) thank you for beta-reading <333 also tagging tara ( @diamonddaze01 ) and serena ( @gotta-winwin ) because we all are deprived of happiness..... also i apologize for the lack of artist minghao, i just needed to feed my angsty brain SOME FLUFF
word count: 2k contents: minghao x f!reader , art teacher!minghao , best friend!minghao , single mom!mc , friends to lovers , she has a son named junseo , the biological dad dipped lol , junseo is 6 , swearing , light angst , fluff , crack
“sweetie, two times two is four, not six,” you sigh, repeating the words all over again when your son makes the same mistake for the seventh time. it’s been an hour since you sat down with his math homework, and you’ve only managed to finish five questions. out of twenty.
“oh fuck,” your son mutters, erasing out the crude 6 he had written and replacing it with a 4.
you blink.
“junseo, what did you just say?”
“fuck,” junseo repeats with a smile on his face, and somehow, it feels even more shocking than the first time he said it.
“okay, listen carefully to mom,” you sigh. “that’s a bad word. you’re not supposed to use it. ever.”
“why can’t i say it?” junseo questions, like every other kid his age.
“because it’s a bad word,” you state firmly. “where did you hear this?” you ask him. ever since junseo was born, you’ve taken a lot of care to make sure he doesn’t learn and use any explicit language. whenever your parents or friends are babysitting him, you make sure to tell them to avoid any movies or songs with heavy cursing in them for this exact reason.
“hao taught me!” junseo reveals. “in yesterday’s art class, hao spilled his dirty paint water all over himself, and then he said… the bad word!” 
your eye twitches.
“xu minghao, i will kill you,” you whisper under your breath.
“mom! you can’t kill hao! he’s my best friend,” junseo gasps, completely believing your words.
“start looking for a new one then, sweetie,” you tell him, and it takes another hour for you to calm a crying junseo down by promising him that you won’t actually kill minghao.
the math homework remains unfinished.
minghao, your best friend, has been in your life since forever. he was there when you were the shy, introverted girl in high school with no friends. he was there when you had a ‘hoe phase’ in college. he was there when you got your first job. he was also around to see junseo’s biological father vanish from your life the day he learned about your pregnancy.
before junseo, you’d jokingly complain that minghao had been in your life for too long. but now, seeing how your son has labelled minghao as his own best friend as well, you can’t help but be grateful for his presence.
having been friends for almost all your lives has also granted the both of you the ability to read each other’s expressions flawlessly, which is why when minghao welcomes you and junseo into his apartment for lunch on a saturday, he knows that your death glare means he’s in trouble.
“hao!” junseo exclaims, hugging minghao tightly as soon as he enters the apartment. “i got my new drawing to show you! i colored it the way you taught me.”
“i’m sure it’s lovely, jun,” minghao smiles, giving the boy a high-five. “how about you watch some peppa pig now, hm? your mom and i will go to the kitchen to finish making lunch, okay? then we can look at your drawing.”
“okay, hao!” junseo agrees easily, and you couldn’t be more thankful for how obedient your boy is. 
once junseo was distracted by the television, you drag minghao into his kitchen and face him with a stern look.
“do you know what junseo said to me last week?” you glare at him, and minghao gulps nervously.
“uh, no?”
“he got his math homework wrong, and unlike any other kid his age, he says, fuck,” you recount the events of the previous week. “when i asked him where he heard it, he told me that you said it in front of him during art class.”
“oh, so that’s what this is about,” minghao sighs with relief. “god, y/n, with the way you’re looking at me, it feels like i robbed your house or something.”
“this is worse, minghao!” you counter. “you know how particular i am when it comes to junseo and cursing.”
“i do know, and i’m sorry,” minghao winces. “but it was an accident! i would never do it intentionally. why are you getting so worked up over it?”
your anger dissipates immediately as you freeze in place. minghao deduces your body language as a sign of you hiding something from him.
“there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?” minghao asks, his voice much gentler now. “did someone do something at work?”
you sigh, knowing that keeping anything from minghao was a futile exercise. “yeah, this jerk kept trying to hit on me, even after i told him i was uncomfortable. he won’t leave me alone, and it’s pissing me off.”
“why don’t you tell your boss about it?” minghao frowns.
“there’s been budget cuts at the company, and they’re looking for any reason to fire people,” you explain. “with junseo’s school fees getting more expensive, i can’t afford to lose my job now. the stress of it all has had me in a bad mood. i’m not even that mad about the cursing, i’m sorry i took it out on you.” you admit to minghao, feeling a lot more lighter after sharing your burden with him.
“we’ve had too many arguments to apologize over something stupid like this,” minghao chuckles, but then his expression turns serious. “but also, if you’re struggling with his fees, why don’t you let me help? i keep telling you that i’m more than capable of paying junseo’s fees—”
“i don’t need your help, hao!” you cut him off.
“why not?”
“because it feels like you’re doing it out of some obligation,” you tell him. “look, i’m really thankful that you were there to support me when junseo’s dad left and i had no one, but i can manage junseo on my own just fine. i don’t want you to help me out of pity and—”
“y/n, do you think that i’ve stuck around all this time just because i pity you?” minghao interrupts you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
your heart stutters when your eyes meet his, and you’re reminded of yet another problem in your life.
the crush on minghao you had back in college which has somehow developed into something more over the years.
you’re afraid to label it, because it means that it makes everything real. labelling the flutter in your chest and the tingling in your palms whenever minghao smiles at you or offers to take care of junseo on nights where you have to work over time would mean acknowledging that you did have feelings for minghao, which was unfortunately another luxury you couldn’t afford.
not when minghao definitely saw you only as a friend.
“i— i just don’t want you to feel compelled to help me just because i’m your friend,” you stutter, looking away from minghao.
“i only help because i care for both you and junseo,” minghao shakes his head, trying to convince you with the sincerity in his tone. “you two are the most precious people in my life, and i’d do anything to make sure you were happy. so just let me help, okay? there’s nothing wrong in asking for help when you need it.”
your eyes well up with tears embarrassingly quickly, and you duck your head so that minghao doesn’t have to see you like that. minghao is quicker than you, however, and he gently holds your chin to lift your face up.
“are you shy about crying in front of me now?” he teases, but his eyes reflect a look of concern. “we’ve seen each other through every phase of our lives, y/n. you don’t have to hide from me.”
his words are enough to make your tears spill over. you’re quick to wrap minghao in a hug, placing your head on his chest while his arms hold you by the waist. he doesn’t say anything; he just lets you cry into his shoulder as he gently sways you and pats your back.
“i’m sorry i’m such a wreck,” you sniffle, pulling away from the hug. before you can get too close, however, minghao is pulling you in closer, and the lack of an appropriate, friendly distance between your lips has your breath hitching.
“don’t you get it, y/n?” his voice carries a hint of annoyance. “i don’t want you to apologize for being a wreck. i don’t want you to hesitate to ask me for help. i don’t want you to think that i’m obliging you by being in your life. i’m here because i want you. i want to be here for junseo, but i also want to be here to take care of you. have i not made it obvious?”
his confession has your jaw dropping open. your brain has turned to mush, and you can’t find it in you to string together a coherent response.
just then, junseo is padding into the kitchen, and it has you and minghao scrambling away from each other immediately.
“mom, i’m hungry,” junseo complains. “can we have lunch now?”
lunch is an awkward affair— for you and minghao at least. junseo seems blissfully unaware of the uncomfortable tension between you and minghao as he slurps away on his noodles and shares stories from school. you feel a little bad for zoning out in the middle of his stories, but you can’t help but replay minghao’s words over and over in your head.
however, the moment you tune into the conversation again, you hear something else that makes your head spin.
“— and she was asking me if i had a dad, and i said yes. but the girl said i was lying because my dad never accompanies my mom for any of the events at school,” junseo blabbers. “so, i asked mrs. lee who a dad really is, and she said that my dad is my best friend and a person i trust the most. he’s also a person who loves my mom, but she has to love him back too, and i knew i wasn’t lying! hao, you’re my dad, right?”
you choke on your noodles and minghao’s chopsticks clatter against his plate.
“oh, fuck.”
“minghao!”
“i can’t believe it took junseo’s constant yapping for you to reveal your feelings for me,” minghao teases, and you shove his shoulder playfully.
“and i can’t believe you swore in front of junseo. again,” you roll your eyes at him, and minghao presses a kiss to your temple as he mutters an apology.
the kiss has the butterflies in your stomach flitting around restlessly; it is a new development after all. soon after junseo’s declaration of minghao being his dad, you dragged minghao back into the kitchen to have a proper conversation, this one involving the truth about your feelings for him, and him asking you to be his girlfriend.
you had expected some sort of dramatic shift. dating your best friend of fifteen years sounds like it requires some sort of drastic change, but it feels surprisingly easy. in fact, it doesn’t feel like much of a change at all, not when having minghao by your side feels as natural as breathing.
“i’ll be more mindful of my words,” minghao promises, and you lean into his embrace, curling up closer to him on the couch, when junseo plops down right between the two of you, tv remote clutched in his hands.
“we’re watching how to train your dragon today!” he announces happily, and you watch with a fond smile as minghao and junseo engage in an animated conversation related to the movie.
there’s a flutter in your chest. there’s a tingling sensation in your palms. they’re all tell-tale signs of an emotion you’ve been hesitating to label all this while.
love, your heart tells you later on, when junseo and minghao have fallen asleep on the couch, junseo’s hands gently gripping onto minghao’s shirt and minghao’s arms protectively wrapped around him.
you find yourself agreeing with your heart. this feeling, it can’t be anything else but love.
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esote-rika · 2 months ago
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derision as prelude to desire | Spencer Reid
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader
Category: smut 18+ MDNI, fluff if you squint
Summary: Spencer Reid’s new coworker is mean but one night doing overtime together leads to the two of them bonding.
Content: glasses!Spencer, workplace rivals if you squint, Spencer Reid vs technology, reader is kind of mean and based on Blair Waldorf (in background, looks, and personality), Spencer is petty, his mind is in the GUTTER, use of eye drops, making out, sub!Spencer, fingering, oral (male receiving), whining and begging glasses!Spencer. Let’s pretend the BAU doesn’t have any CCTV cameras for this one m’kay thanks
Word count: 3.6k
A/N: This is an ITCH in my brain, like I’ve been thinking about a Spencer Reid x Blair Waldorf crackship since August last year it’s actually concerning. One of my favorite ship dynamics is loser boy x popular girl, so it makes sense. Still in second person to make it immersive. This isn’t a crossover, so there will be no spoilers for Gossip Girl. The reader's personality, looks and background are just based on Blair. Let me know if you want to read more of this dynamic because I have so many ideas for it oh my god. I hope you enjoy it!
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Spencer Reid often muses on the series of events that had brought you from the streets of the Upper East Side to work in Quantico, Virginia. It would be easy to ask, of course, or even have Penelope do a quick background check on you, but he’s made a game of it instead, piecing together what he knows of your history, filling in the blanks of what would have gone wrong, what decisions you would have taken, in order to leave the privileged life you led and enter public service.
As far as he had been concerned, you don’t belong anywhere near the FBI, let alone the BAU. Spoiled, rich, with a mean streak he is all too familiar with from his time in school.  
He had been so sure you wouldn’t fit in when you first joined the team. You had been, and continue to be, perfectly made, every single hair shiny and curled just so, heels always so shiny and matching whatever designer bag you have slung over your shoulder. Everything about you screams high maintenance, and his profiler instincts point to several things: uncooperative, wants everything handed to you, ditzy.
But then you had shown your cards, had proved his assessment so wrong and he could never forgive you for the sting of that defeat.
It doesn’t help that you seem to enjoy riling him up as well. Every case is an opportunity to one up him, an attempt to claim his spot and it’s unfair. You already have everything, yet you still refuse to yield the title of team genius to him, the one thing he can cling to, the thing he knows is his. 
He is still glowering today, four months into your employment, passive aggressively hitting the keys on his keyboard. He’s a slow typist, and he’d agreed to write Morgan’s reports for him this week, a favor between friends he’s now beginning to regret. You are the only one keeping him company. The rest of the team has already left hours ago, but you’re typing away at your desk, fingers flying through the keyboard without even a glance. His own skills seem laughable in comparison, going at the keys one by one, with the speed of an old grandparent squinting over a typewriter instead of a man in his twenties. 
“Take a picture, Reid, it’ll last longer.”
He blinks, forcing his eyes back to the monitor. “You’re so original.” he mutters, pushing his glasses up to nestle on top of his head. He rubs his eyes, already despising the glare of the screen.
“Aw, what, the genius can’t handle a little blue light?”
He doesn’t bother with a response, blinking at the screen instead. The sooner he can get this done, the sooner he can leave. Sounds of tapping keys fill the air again, but he stops after a few moments again, rubbing at his eyes. He hears a sigh, and then your voice again, haughty but somehow concerned.
“You’re not supposed to rub your eyes, it makes it worse.” 
“I know,” he grumbles, “I don’t need you lecturing me about the importance of eye health.”
“It seems like you do, since you’re still doing it.” you reply derisively. He’d be rolling his eyes if he isn’t too busy rubbing them.
“Here,” you say, “Catch.”
Confused, he lifts his head, only to flinch as something hurls right at him. “What-” it hits his desk, then bounces off.
“Oh, look what you’ve done, genius.”
“You threw it at me.” his lips are pulled into a tight line of disapproval, “A head’s up would have been nice.”
“I did, genius, I said catch. You just have the reflexes of an eighty year old.” your voice is tinged with annoyance.
To his surprise, you’re up and walking to his desk, heels echoing in the empty bullpen. He watches as you gingerly kneel on the ground, bending down, and his eyes grow wide. The image of you bent down like this is surprisingly enticing, your skirt straining against the soft curve of your hips, hair falling down your shoulders like a curtain of the night sky. You’ve gotten close enough that he can smell your perfume, something citrusy and clean, and he subconsciously leans closer.
Mouth dry, he manages to croak out, “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find the damn eye drops.” you snap, an arm extending towards him and for a moment he holds his breath, waiting for contact. Instead, you grab something from the ground, “There it is.” 
He watches as you straighten, lifting your torso upright, but still kneeling in front of him. An image flashes through his mind, your face between his thighs, those large eyes staring up at him, but he banishes it quickly lest his thoughts begin to stir his body. 
“Here, these should help.” You say, finally standing back up and placing the tiny bottle on his desk. A filthy part of him wishes you’d get back on your knees. He catches the tilt of your head, the confusion in your eyes, “Reid. Are you still with me? Has your brain finally short circuited from all those statistics?”
Oh his brain is short circuiting, all right, just from a different cause.
“I’m - yeah.” he replies, and then he rattles off the first thought his frazzled mind could come up with, “Did you know some people have used eye drops as a method for murder? Not these ones, but there are specific brands that contain—”
“Tetrahydrozoline,” you finish for him, “Yeah, I know.”
He blinks. There you go again, proving your intellect, your value, somehow matching his even though he’s pretty sure you are no genius, not in the same way he is. Still, perhaps it’s the late night, or your offer of relief, but the sting of being bested doesn’t resonate tonight. A softer feeling unfurls in his chest, something warm and addictive, something like understanding. He smiles, “That’s right.”
You nod, curls spilling over your shoulders again, “Mhm. Well… These are for your eyes, I’m not trying to poison you.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you.”
A scoff, “Please, I’m not dumb enough to attempt murder in the office.”
His brows lift and he finds himself grinning, “So you’ve thought about it?”
“I will neither deny nor confirm.” you’re smiling now too, and he lets his eyes roam over the pretty lines of your face, memorizing how lovely you look in this moment, guards lowered and smiling at him with ease. He thinks he sees something flash in those pretty eyes of yours but he’s not sure. Reading people has never been his strong suit, regardless of his profession.
“Come on, I’ll help you.” you gesture at his glasses, and he immediately obeys, pushing it back up to nestle on his hair. He holds his breath as you come closer, bites his lips when your hand comes to his chin. It’s soft, unbelievably gentle, and you tilt his head back. From this angle, he can see the way your lashes curl, the soft hint of shimmer swept across your lids. Eyeshadow, he remembers from what Penelope and JJ have told him, and it highlights the shape of your eyes, making them appear brighter.  
He blinks as coolness hits his eye, and then you’re tilting his head to the other side, and he’s trying not to panic, trying not to be a creep, but in reality, he hasn’t been this close, this intimate to a woman in so long that it’s messing up his ability to inhale, to think, to function. Your hair flutters gently around his face, and the scent of citrus is stronger now, heady, and he feels so light headed he’s afraid he’ll faint.
The same coolness hits the other eye, and before you can pull away, before he can think it through, he’s curling his own hand over your wrist. He lifts it up, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm, admonishing any thoughts of germs and bacteria, and instead relishing at the tender flesh beneath his lips. He kisses your palm again, lips gently tracing the lines, before moving down to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.
He dares to peer up, waiting for a reprimand, a cutting sentence that would have him lashing back at you, but there’s none. There it is again, the flicker in your eyes, and now he finally knows the word to attach to it: desire.
He kisses the inside of your wrist again, and feels you pulse fluttering beneath his lips. Fast, to his surprise, almost matching the quick succession of thudding in his chest. 
“Reid,” you whisper, and he waits again, allows you time to pull away. You don’t, but he’s apprehensive now, afraid he’s crossed a boundary. He definitely has, but he would do it again if you express the desire to do so, to tumble into whatever this is with him. He just needs confirmation, one verbal acknowledgement that you want this too, because he doesn’t trust his ability to read you yet, not when he’s spent so much time despising you.
But you’re just looking at him, and the embarrassment is almost painful. His cheeks heat up, and he drops your hand.
“I’m sorry.” he murmurs, sinking back on his seat. He’s about to turn to his monitor, intent to forget about this, forget everything even though his memory would make that impossible, but he finds his face being tilted up again, cradled between impossibly soft hands, and then there’s lips against his own, your lips, oh god you are kissing him.
He wraps his arms around your waist, following the movement of your mouth to the best of his limited ability. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lets out an involuntary whimper, his body jerking at the sting. He feels you smiling against his mouth, cocky even in the midst of a kiss, in the midst of the most heated kiss he’s had since - since - he can’t even remember her, the brief dalliance he had with an actress once upon a time, because all he can think of is your mouth, and your hands, nails scratching at his scalp, and every single thought is expelled from his mind when you climb on his lap.
“God,” he moans in between kisses, his breaths ragged, but he would gladly drown in you before stopping.
“Not god,” you correct him and nip at his lower lip with more force this time.
“Mhm.” he whines, and kisses you again, shifting so you’re more comfortable on his lap. He wonders if the chair is creaking from your combined weight, but then you’re grinding directly on his cock and he’s lost in a haze of white hot pleasure. 
Apparently, Spencer Reid cannot multitask, because his lips fall slack as you grind against his hardening cock. Your laughter tinkles in his ear, before your mouth latches on his jaw, down his neck, open and wet and sticky. He knows you said you aren’t god, and he’s never been religious, but he swears this must be heaven. Fitting too, in the same way he’s never thought he’d reach some place he doesn’t even believe in, he’s also never thought he would have you—beautiful, infuriating, untouchable you—grinding on his lap with a desperation that borders frenzy.
Recognizing that your need burns you just as his is making him reckless, he manages to whisper, “Tell me— tell me what to do. How do I make you feel good?”
You giggle, taking one of his hands away from your waist and leading it under your skirt. The fabric has bunched up over your thighs, and he grips the smooth flesh greedily. But you have other ideas, and he’s eager to learn, so he lets you move his hand higher, until the tips of his fingers brush against moist fabric.
His mouth goes dry. You’ve soaked through your panties. 
“Like this?” he dips his fingers past the lace, his mouth falling open at the slick that’s gathered at your core. You have your face buried at his neck, lips and tongue still assaulting the tender skin there, but he feels you nod, feels the shudder that runs through you, and he takes those as a good sign. His touch is exploratory, gentle, fueled by an intoxication over the fact that you’re here and you’re enjoying it, you’re making those sounds for him. 
He’s awestruck rather than cocky, and when he slides his fingers into your pussy, he’s immediately trying to figure out a rhythm that would draw out those pretty noises from your lips. When he finds it, he sticks to it, greedily drinking in your moans, no matter how muffled they are against his neck.
There’s a sense of degeneracy to this whole thing. Fingering his coworker in the office, right there on his desk, he could get fired should this get out, they both could. Still, he’s never truly had anyone want him so unabashedly and he simply cannot stop. You had been the one to kiss him, after all, the lines in the sand had been completely trampled by the time you had climbed on his lap. 
“You feel so good,” you whisper, and he feels you move, riding his hand shamelessly, and he has to bite your shoulder to keep himself from whining again. The sight alone nearly undoes him, and you’ve barely done anything. He’s been actively providing you with stimulation this whole time, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, and somehow, he wouldn’t change a single thing. 
“Yeah?” he asks, pupils blown wide, wanting, needing the assurance that he’s doing good, he’s making you feel good.
“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” your voice grows sharper as he curls his fingers with every thrust. After a few moments of fumbling with your panties, his thumb presses against your clit and he’s rewarded by another groan from you. 
He draws figure eights against your slick core, finding a rhythm that has you tugging at his hair wildly, and he’s whispering into your ear, pleading, “That’s it, please come for me, please, let me see how good you feel, please, please—”
“Spencer!” you groan, and then you’re shuddering in his lap, and his fingers down to his knuckles are wet with your slick. 
He grins, helping you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to your hair, the FBI issued office chair creaking so much he’s afraid the two of you would break it if you don’t stop. The image is hilarious in its absurdity, making his grin widen, and you must have taken it for arrogance because he feels a slight smack on his shoulder.
“Don’t get cocky.” you mutter.
He takes you in, the flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, mascara now smudged along your lash lines, and he’s reverential instead of arrogant, grateful that he has brought someone so stunning and capable to the throes of pleasure, has taken you apart so much you’ve ruined your normally perfect facade. 
“You’re beautiful.” he tells you, his own eyes glistening with an unfocused daze. You roll your eyes and shake your head, and he’s seized with a desire to keep you hear and bury his fingers inside you over and over again until you believe him.
“Your turn.” You chuckle, hands unwinding from his neck and travelling down the length of his abdomen, coming to the buckle on his belt.
“Wait, I—uh,” he turns beet red once again, clearing his throat, “Are you on the pill? I don’t have—”
You tilt your head, as if the idea of a man walking around without a condom is foreign. Perhaps it is, but Spencer simply never assumed he would have any use for it. He turns away, teeth worrying his lower lip, but you pull his face to you again.
“I have hands.” you say as you resume undoing his pants. You shift, then slink away from him, and he whines at the loss of your warmth, but he sees you on your knees once again, and this time it’s not just his brain making up lewd, inappropriate thoughts, “And a mouth.”
“Y-you really don’t have to.”
“I know,” you grin, pretty as the devil and twice as tempting, and as your hands wrap around his engorged length, thumb circling at the tip, “But how can I not, when you’re this pretty?”
He blacks out, he swears he does, there’s no way this isn’t a perverted dream, no way that you’re actually stroking up and down his throbbing cock. Somehow he comes to, only to feel a warmth, a wetness, enveloping the swollen tip, and his hips buck up instinctively. He whines when your hands push at his thighs, holding him in place. 
“Please,” he gasps, babbles, really, “Please, oh god, that feels so good.” 
You take him further down and he throws his head back so violently the glasses slip past his ears and clatter onto the floor. He feels your laughter vibrating against his cock and it almost has him keening. He whines, wriggles against your hold with no real desire to break free. He finds that likes the force of your hands on him, nails leaving harsh indents on his flesh as he struggles. The pain is delicious, heightening his already frazzled senses.
You bob your head up and down, your hair swaying gently, and he manages to will his hands to move, gathering the soft tresses in his hand so they won’t impede your movement. Your eyes flicker up, meet his own, and he swears there’s a thank you in the glint of them. He cannot do anything else. 
Slack jawed, he watches you hollow your cheeks, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth as you give him the best head he’s ever experienced. Never mind that it’s his first one, and that he doesn’t have a point of comparison. He’s convinced this is the best, you are the best, and he’s never been more thankful for his eidetic memory until this night, knowing that he cannot, will never, ever forget the way you look as you knelt down and sucked his cock like you were being paid to do it. 
“God, you’re so pretty, oh my god, yes, just like that, please, please, yes.” he’s aware that he’s whining, and there’s an amused twinkle in your eye that tells him he would never hear the end of this after. 
He knows you well enough to know that you would dangle this over his head any chance you get, that you aren’t above playing dirty. Instead of dread, it makes his stomach roil with another gush of desire, and he knows that that is even more concerning than whatever you were going to do.
(It never occurs to him to do the same, that he could tease you back and point out that he has had you on your knees and sucking on his cock like you were made for it simply because his brain cannot fathom ever associating the sight of you kneeling before him as something to be ashamed of.)
He’s drawn from his thoughts as he feels your hands cupping his balls, stimulating an entirely new area that has him thrusting up. He feels his cock brush against the back of your throat, and he pulls back immediately, eyes wide with worry as you gag around his length.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby you can stop if—”
But you do it again, soldiering past your gag reflex and taking him all the way, and he can hear someone saying oh fuck oh fuck I’m cumming agh, please, I’m cumming, and he thinks its his own voice but he’s unsure. His eyes are squeezed shut, colors exploding behind his lids as he feels your tongue swirling over and over his sensitive cock, before the cool air surrounds it, telling him you’ve stopped completely.
When he opens his eyes, you have your head on his thigh, cheek pressed against the fabric, a lazy smile on your ruined lips.
“God,” he whispers, reaching for you, wanting you close, “That was—wow, you—come here, please.”
He watches as a flicker of surprise flits over your face, before you mask it with a giggle, “Good?” you murmur, tucking his soft cock into his pants before climbing on his lap again.
“Incredible.” He holds you tight, your slick only half dry on his fingers, the taste of him still on your tongue, “You’re incredible.”
You’re quiet, contemplative, and he presses a kiss to your neck, wanting to bring you out of whatever funk you’ve gone into, “Hey, what is it?” He’s almost terrified of the answer, worried you would pull away and leave him cold.
“I just didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.” you reply, eventually sinking into his arms. Your voice is soft when you say, “Most men aren’t.”
The thought of her having experiences doesn’t bother him; it’s the fact that they callously left her after that makes him tighten his hold on her. “I’m sorry.”
“For the entirety of shitty men? You’d need more apologies than that,” you chuckle, fingers absently curling into his hair, “But thank you. This is— this is nice.”
“It is,” Spencer nods, leaning into your touch, eyes shut.
“You lost your glasses.”
“I did.”
Your laughter fills the air, “Hey, are you sleepy? You still have Morgan’s reports to finish.”
His eyes flutter open, a sheepish smile on his lips, “Why’d you have to remind me?”
“Because the sooner you finish it, the sooner we can do this again.”
Spencer laughs, kissing your shoulder as he relents, “All right, all right.” That’s more than enough incentive to brave staring at the monitor again.
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surely-sims · 5 months ago
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Moving Forward - End of 2024 Plans
Hello! 👋
I wanted to start this off by and foremost saying thank you so much for the support on the recent Poppy set release. I haven’t seen the community having that much fun with CC in a while and it really means the world to me.  🧡
I’ll try to keep this short and to the point. It’s not bad news, just different. 
I've been unemployed for over a year now. August 2023 I finished off my last gig in Animation, and the industry has since taken a giant dive into the toilet. Greenlights are very rare and jobs are even rarer. Boo hoo so sad but what does that mean for CC? Last year I put together a massive game of Clue for Simblreen. I didn’t sleep for 48 hours straight. For Shrimpmas the story was very similar but somehow even worse. And just to put it into optics, I recently spent 3 weeks making the Poppy CAS set. Hours and hours dedicated to getting the meshes and the swatches perfect- and after all the love, all the fantastic amazing lookbooks- I made $7. (And I’m very grateful to those new patrons, and everyone that took the time to play with it, believe me I am! I just want you to understand the kind of numbers we’re working with here.) I don't make a lot of money doing this, I really don't.
TLDR; This has been a very roundabout way to say I’m going to be scaling back this year. 
For the rest of the year, I'm going to commit to making things that make me happy, and take a break from things I stress over for absolutely no reason. Simblreen will still be happening, but only for the second weekend, and I’m going to be cutting a lot of stuff I was making for it. Because when I sat down and thought about it, I wasn't making it because I wanted to, I was making it because I felt I had to. In the same vein, as of right now, Shrimpmas is cancelled this year. I’m really sorry about this one. I know it’s a ton of fun, but instead I’ll be focusing on finishing up two large sets and getting them to you in November and December.
I hate going on about this stuff, but I wanted to be clear where I’m at as a creator. Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you soon. 💗
xo, Anne
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kaaaaaaarf · 7 months ago
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start of the week snippit
Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it friends? I have not been able to write for months, but it seems the curse has been temporarily lifted! Thanks to @lynxindisguise for tagging me. <3
I've been workshopping this fic idea since early July, and @imsiriuslyreading's Noah Kahan fest was the perfect excuse to actually put pen to paper, as it were. I've taken the prompt It's been a long year, and all of our book's pages dog-eared from Everywhere, Everything.
Remus is a well known middle-grade author-illustrator. Sirius owns a children's bookstore in the city where Remus grew up, and has just moved back to. This snippit is from their first real date...
"Hey Sirius, dinner's rea—what are you doing?" Sirius looks up from where he's bent over Remus' laptop. A very familiar word doc open in front of him. Remus takes a moment to send a prayer up to whomever is listening that it isn't, somehow, what he thinks it is. Sirius turns to look at him with an expression that betrays nothing. "I thought this was your manuscript for Howling, but Remus...Remus, this is smut." Oh. Okay, it is what he thought. Fuck. "Hey, don't...don't read that! It's private." he stutters, moving awkwardly in and out of the doorway—trying to figure out whether the instinct he should reach for is fight, or more likely, to fly the fuck out of there. Sirius ignores his panic, turning to read aloud from the document. "Sebastian took his throbbing member and shoved it into Gesibel's gaping hole. Remus. Remus, this is terrible." Remus grimaces, "I know, I know I should have said something to you, but it's just a hobby and—" "No, I mean the writing—it's bad. Really bad." a pause, and then, "You're a published author?" Remus scoffs, offended. "Hey, okay, I know it's not Pulitzer Prize winning, but—" "Didn't you win the Governor General's Award for Fiction multiple times?" Sirius interrupts. "Juvenile Fiction, but yes—" "Then why is this so..." He pauses his diatribe, looking thoughtful. "Have you ever even had sex?" "Okay, well, you can fuck right off." "That doesn't sound like a yes..." "Yes, obviously I've had sex, Sirius. Jesus..." "Really? Because based on this, all signs point to no." "I've had sex before." It comes out a tad more petulant than he meant it to, causing the smirk that's been growing on Sirius face to fully bloom. "Mm, I have my doubts." Sirius slowly closes the laptop lid, leaning back on the desk and looking Remus in challenge, "Prove it." "...What?" "You heard me. Prove it. Fuck me."
np tagging: @fruityindividual, @moon-seas, @brigid-faye, @colgatebluemintygel & @spindrifters
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malfoyswand · 2 years ago
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𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬
pairing: draco malfoy x reader
summary: your best friend, draco malfoy, plans a surprise to ask you to the yule ball.
word count: 1.8k
genre: fluff
warnings: none, just soft draco :)
author's note: thank you to the lovely reader who requested this, it's my first request so i really hope i did this justice! also yes, i got a little inspired by that one gilmore girls episode with the 1000 flowers for the proposal lol
➪ masterlist | requests
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"Mate, I think you're overthinking this."
Blaise Zabini reported his opinion of the matter, but Draco Malfoy barely comprehended a word he had spoken. The only things on his mind were (Y/N) and of course, the bloody Yule Ball.
If he was honest with himself, Draco was at least partially excited for the dance. He knew it was meant to be one of the greatest nights he may ever experience while at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure if he would. The dance was only a week away and somehow, Draco found himself without a date.
If anything, the Yule Ball was making him nervous.
"I'm not, Zabini!" He spoke quite loudly, then softened his voice as he realized students had looked their way. "This needs to be perfect, alright? This is (Y/N) we're talking about, you know how I feel about her."
Blaise couldn't help but sigh, with a smile on his lips as the two of them walked to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was quite a feat for Malfoy to tell Blaise that he had romantic feelings for his best friend, (Y/N). Blaise knew that Draco dreaded being seen as anything but tough to the world, the fact that a girl had this much control over his emotions spoke volumes. 
"Exactly my point, Malfoy. She's been your best friend since first year, I doubt she would ever be disappointed or angry with whatever you come up with. Besides, she's just a girl. Just ask her to the ball like how you would ask a girl out on a date."
"Er.. well.." Draco began to speak, the hand that wasn't holding his books scratching the back of his neck. The two of them finally stopped walking besides the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Blaise's eyes widening as he tried to hide his laughter.
"You're telling me that Draco Malfoy has never been on a date before? Merlin!" His laughter echoed down the chamber, earning him a scoff and a playful shove inside the classroom by Draco. "Sorry, sorry. I just thought that with every other girl in this school begging to be your date to the dance, you would've taken at least one of them on a date." His voice was spoken quietly, careful that the other students wouldn't hear their conversation.
Draco shook his head as the two of them sat down in their seats, pulling out their books and parchment. "No. I've turned them all down. They're just not her, know what I mean?"
"You're down bad, mate." Blaise smirked slightly to himself, whispering the only advice he could really offer his friend. "Listen, girls like being asked out in a personal way. You know the kind of things (Y/N) likes, all you have to do is make it special and she'll be swooning."
"Right." Draco mumbled to himself as Professor Moody began to teach his lesson. However, he certainly wasn't thinking about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Draco glanced over to where you sat across the room. He knew you better than anyone, yet he had no idea how to ask you to the Yule Ball.
That was when the idea struck him. The new bag you bought last week caught his eyes, he noticed the way the bag had intricate floral designs sewn into it. A memory replayed in Draco's mind. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he wrote on a spare piece of parchment, folding it into a paper crane before sending it your way.
Your hands caught the paper crane, grinning as you knew exactly who it was from. You tried to ignore the way your heart seemed to skip a beat each time you saw one fly towards you. On the piece of parchment, it read:
Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow morning before breakfast? - D.M.
You lifted his gaze to meet his awaiting gray eyes, your head nodding before turning back to the professor's lesson. Draco did the same, but his mind was already running through a mental checklist on all the supplies he had to get to make his idea come to life.
The next morning, you woke up wondering why in Godric's name you decided to meet up with Draco this early in the morning. The sun was just starting to rise outside the window, and none of your other roommates were even awake. You groaned as quietly as you could, practically tiptoeing around the dorm bedroom to avoid waking everyone else.
As you brushed your hair in the girls' lavatory, you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter around again. You cursed yourself under your breath as you tried your best to focus on your breathing.
Lately, being near Draco Malfoy has always made you more excited than you really ought to be. Of course, he was your best friend so you had always been excited. But now, even one glance at him caused a warmth to glow within your chest. The feeling was a foreign one.
As you walked through the castle towards the Astronomy Tower, that warm feeling in your chest arose again as you caught sight of him. He was pacing near the entrance door, mumbling as if he was rehearsing something. You cleared your throat as you walked towards him, Draco stopping in his tracks.
"(Y/N)." He spoke your name, his lips forming into a soft smile. "Thanks for meeting up with me, I know it's a bit early for you." His tone was playful, he knew you were not much of a morning person. 
"About that, why so early in the morning, Malfoy?" You gently shoved his shoulder, he only laughed in response. He opened the Astronomy Tower door entrance, his hand indicating for you to step inside first. 
"You will see."
You walked up the long set of stairs up the tower. You couldn't see the fact that Draco was a nervous wreck behind you, his hands having to wipe themselves on his slacks to remove the sweat from his palms. As much as you hated to wake up this early in the morning, you knew the views up from the tower would be gorgeous. Draco knew that the Astronomy Tower was, quite honestly, your favorite place to admire the landscape.
“Oh my..” Your body stopped in its tracks once the two of you reached the highest level of the tower. Your eyes couldn’t take in your surroundings fast enough it seemed.
It was as if every surface of the tower was covered in red roses. Somehow, someone must have placed hundreds of roses in vases, scattering them around almost every corner of the room. The light shining into the tower only amplified their beauty, it was as if each petal seemed to come alive as the sun continued to rise.
“D-Did you know these flowers were here?” You stuttered as you started to pace around the room slowly, your fingertips grazing upon almost every petal there was. Their beauty took your breath away.
“I did.” Draco bit his bottom slightly as he watched you, desperate to know your reaction. He couldn’t tell if you liked or hated them. “They’re for you, actually.”
Your eyes darted from the roses you were admiring to Draco, your body facing his. Although you were truly flattered, the idea of him doing all of this for you made your head spin with so many questions. You knew Draco Malfoy better than he may ever know himself, you had never seen him do anything this nice or extravagant for anyone before. 
“You said a couple of weeks ago that you wish spring would come along so you can watch the flowers bloom again. Of course, it’s only December, as we can all see.” Draco answered your question, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he pointed outside of the tower. More snowflakes began to fall, covering the castle with even more snow.
“So, I thought to bring the flowers to you. And I only assumed you liked roses, from your bag.” His eyes went from watching the snowflakes outside to your bag that was decorated with tiny red roses around it. Since when did Draco notice something so mundane, like a new tote bag?
“I just.. don’t know what to say.” Your voice came out as a whisper. Him decorating the entire Astronomy Tower with roses, just because you said you missed the spring and summer flowers, was entirely insane. You couldn’t come up with the words, so all you could do was step forward to hug him tightly.
Within an instant, you felt Draco’s arms wrap around your waist, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He closed his eyes, smiling softly to himself out of relief and joy. He was relieved and happy that you had liked the surprise, but he knew what he must do, even though it terrified him.
“That’s not the end of the surprise.” He said as he slowly pulled away from the hug. All of a sudden, it was as the boy became aware of every heightened emotion he was feeling. “But I must do this properly..”
Your eyebrows raised as you watched him turn around, picking up one of the red roses from their vases. If you weren’t convinced you were dreaming at the moment, you would have sworn you saw a small bit of sweat on Draco’s forehead as he looked towards you.
“I-er..” He took a step forward towards you, any closer and your bodies would have made contact. With a deep breath to calm himself, he handed the rose to you. “Would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me, as more than just a friend?”
Your lips slightly parted as you took the rose from him. You had slowly been falling for your best friend for the past four years, but you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin Prince would never fall for you. For four years, you had thought that he would never settle for you, when every other girl in this school begged for him just to look their way.
Once you realized you had failed to give an answer, you closed your mouth and smiled in his direction. “I would love to, Draco.” You responded, stepping forward once more to close the gap between you two. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek.
When you pulled away, you realized that Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink as his eyes widened. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the sight. Draco Malfoy was notorious for being the calm, collected one of the two of you. Seeing him as, essentially, a nervous wreck over you caused that warmth to be felt in your chest again.
“Who would have thought I could make Draco Malfoy this nervous?” You joked, attempting to calm his apparent nerves.
“Who said I was nervous?” He scoffed just as playfully, grabbing a few more roses to hand to you. You took them in your hands, smelling their pleasant aroma as you followed him back down the staircase.
“Malfoy, you were just as red as these roses.”
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wyattjohnston · 3 months ago
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if you only knew - jeremy swayman
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summary: abby shouldn't let her daydreaming get the best of her, but it's not that easy when sway is the one standing in front of you.
song: i can see you by taylor swift
word count: 3.2k
note: this is for The Eras Tour Fic Challenge that was all @comphy-and-cozy's idea, and i'm delighted she let me be part of the process. thank you to @laurenairay for reading this when it was getting started!
hoping to hell that this makes sense, please let me know!
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The players filed off the ice at their own pace, some of them off of the ice the very second practice finished while the others hung around for a little extra ice time.
Abby didn’t mind waiting, capturing photos as they passed her that would probably never see the light of day. They were all friendly with her, despite her presence almost guaranteeing a camera being shoved in their face whether it be for a still photo or a TikTok video. Frankly, she didn’t know why they were still happy to see her.
The hulking figure of Jeremy Swayman in his goalie pads stepped towards her, his helmet tucked under his arm and his head tilting as he approached. Abby picked a spot behind him to look at so that she didn’t have to make eye contact.
“No question today?”
“I couldn’t think of one, so just the photos,” she said, smiling as she held up the DSLR to his unsuspecting face and held the trigger for a few seconds. “Logan has one for next practice that I think you’ll like.”
Jeremy didn’t look convinced, shifting from foot to foot—though he barely even seemed to register the camera or the many photos she’d just taken. He suggested, “You should ask us who our favourite social media person is.”
Abby lowered her camera completely, her shoulders sagging a littler. She refuted, “No. That’s mean and I don’t want you guys to all say Logan; I know he’s more fun.”
“Not a chance anyone says Logan over you,” he said emphatically. “Logan would agree it’s you, too, if you asked him.”
“That’s just not true. I’m not asking questions that will hurt someone’s feelings.” Her words were final, and she imagined that the hurt my feelings was implied.
“Fine,” he conceded, though the slight roll of his eyes showed he wasn’t happy about it. He added, “But you do ask better questions. You’re also way hotter than he is.”
Abby rolled her eyes back at him. The beating of her heart became louder in her ears, harder in her chest, despite her desperate attempt at nonchalance when she took the opportunity to greet Pasta as he wandered through the tunnel behind Jeremy.
“I didn’t mean that in an inappropriate way,” Jeremy said, glancing back over his shoulder to watch Pasta leave. “I just—I have eyes, you know? But like… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” Abby said, shrugging. “It’s far from the most degrading thing a hockey player has ever said about me.”
Tension suddenly overcame them, and Abby froze in place. She couldn’t work out what she’d said that could have caused the sudden shift between them and found her shoulders curling in to try and get away with it.
“Here?” Jeremy asked after a few, long painful seconds. “One of the boys?”
A loud guffaw left her mouth entirely involuntarily and she gestured back to the ice to ask incredulously, “Those boys? No, they would never. Not where I can hear anyway. Just guys in college.”
The returning question was immediate and gruff: “Where did you go to college?”
“That’s not—Sway.”
Any and all tension dissipated as quickly as it had come, Jeremy somehow standing even taller than he had been, and a broad smile overcoming over his face, “Just making friendly conversation and trying to get to know you, Abs.”
Jeremy’s winks always disarmed her. He dealt them out so freely, so regularly, that she was sure they were just an unconscious behaviour whenever he was coming to or going from a conversation. And yet, even if she didn’t think he meant them, they still rattled her to her core.
In the same way his weeks were unintentional; Abby never meant to watch him for so long as he walked away. If anyone ever caught her—and maybe they had and were too nice to say anything—she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over the embarrassment.
That didn’t stop her, though. She didn’t look away until he was out of sight.
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Abby posted up in her usual spot at TD Garden, waiting for the boys to arrive for the game. They were all painfully consistent, so she knew exactly how long she had between arrivals to quickly edit photos and post them in small groups. It was such a to-the-minute routine that she could have done it on autopilot—did do it on autopilot. A lot.
They all filed in as normal, nothing disrupting her routine until Jeremy’s arrival time came. Abby knew his arrival time just as well as she knew anybody else’s, but nervous energy always took over when it came to him.
She had her phone positioned and ready for the next group to come in, filming whether they acknowledged her or pretended she didn’t exist. The younger boys were more likely to say hello, she found, mostly because they’d come into the league when social media was already a big part of it. The older the player was, the more set he was in his routine and superstitions—even if they refused to call them superstitions.
Jeremy was always good for a greeting, oblivious to the damage his smile and wink did to her, but Abby steeled herself for him to step towards her.
She couldn’t have been prepared for the casual speed at which he reached into the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out his phone, holding it up in her direction. The shutter went off and he was walking past her before she could even work out what had happened.
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Abby didn’t always stay late after games. She had to stay around for media, but on a normal day she was posting the post-game interviews and promptly jumping on The Orange Line before posting some game recaps from whatever corner of the subway she was crammed into. That all changed when Logan was hanging around and she was able to convince him to drive her home.
While it saved her a sardine packed trip, it did mean she had to hang around longer than she normally would to as he packed away videography equipment. She found herself a chair to sit on in the hallway near the Bruins’ family room, trying to make herself disappear into the brickwork.
It didn’t take long for Abby to run out of things to post, and for her eyes to grow heavy. She still didn’t know exactly what she had to wait for Logan to finish, but the sudden end to her busy day was enough for her body to realise she could relax—normally that end was when she was flopping onto her bed.
The players started to file out, crossing in front of her on their way to their families and their cars. Those she made eye contact with said goodnight, although most of them were on a mission to get out and only had eyes for the exit. She couldn’t blame them.
A shadow appeared over her lap where she’d turned back to her phone to respond to some people on the socials. When Abby looked up, Jeremy was looking down at her with head slightly tilted.
“Why’re you still here?”
His towering figure would never get old. It would have a hold on Abby until the day she died, she was sure of it, especially when he was in his suit.
“Getting a ride home. Would rather sit here than jump on the subway,” she told him, keeping her words and breathing measured. “Something must have happened because Logan’s taking ages.”
“You sure he didn’t forget?” Jeremy asked. “I’ll take you home if you need.”
Multiple things were wrong with that idea—primarily that she was positive that he did not live anywhere remotely close to Roxbury, but also that being alone in space as confined as a car was sure to ruin her life.
Abby assured him, even if she didn’t totally believe it, “He wouldn’t have forgotten. Thanks, though.”
“See you at practice, then. Hope you have something good planned.”
She did, and she would have told him if his wink hadn’t left her speechless.
Jeremy’s retreating figure was still in view when a text came through, Logan telling Abby that he had forgotten he was taking her home and he was already halfway gone. He would come back and get her if needed, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that he was hoping that wasn’t the case. He would have called if it was.
“Sway!” Abby shouted, not allowing any time for another possibility to come to mind.
He stopped instantly, yet his turn back to face her was slow. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to gather her bag and rush in his direction.
“Can I get that ride, please?”
With a simple nod, he took her camera bag without being asked and led her to the player parking lot.
Even half empty, it was clear to Abby that she didn’t belong. She didn’t even own a car let alone the six figure vehicles she was being confronted with. One of them, if sold, could probably pay off her student debt.
There were many thanks, most embarrassed, while Abby sat in the passenger’s seat and tried not to touch anything except for the chair. Even then she was worried about all the potential damage she could do to the leather.
“Why are you so tense?” Jeremy asked. “Just relax a little.”
His words were accompanied by a large hand on her thigh. In what world that was supposed to relax her, Abby did not know, because even through the denim of her jeans she could feel the warmth and size of his hand. Looking down at it made her dizzy.
There was no way he was oblivious to what he was doing to her, she knew that for certain when she caught the smirk on his face after he finished talking. She didn’t know what he was talking about—it may have been about the game, or it could have been a question about the best way to get to her house. Abby would never be able to repeat what he said because the only thing playing in her mind was the feeling of his hand moving higher and higher up her thigh.
Never before had she wished she lived further away from the arena, but Abby was desperate for it to never end because by the time she could see that they were only a few turns away, Jeremy’s hand was pressing right into the crease of her hip. Squeezing her thighs together was really the only thing she could do because Jeremy was driving, and Abby did want to make it home.
A lot of the wanting to make it home was because she was desperate to find the words to ask him inside.
She didn’t need to find those words, though, because they were stopped on the street, and Jeremy hadn’t even killed the engine before he was asking, “Are you gonna invite me in?”
“Sorry!” a voice called, accompanied by the loud squeak of sneakers on concrete. “One of the cameras was fucking up and it needed—”
“It’s fine, Logan. Let’s just get out of here.”
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“Sway’s looking a bit worse than I remember?”
“What? I haven’t noticed anything different.”
“Might want to proofread what you post to Twitter.”
Abby instantly reached into her pocket, her heart racing at the thought of having posted anything to the team socials that wasn’t absolutely perfect. The notifications were more out of control than normal, only adding to the sinking feeling in her stomach.
When she finally looked at the tweets coming from the Bruins’ official account, it was clear what Logan was referencing because staring up at her was a picture of their beloved captain—with Sway being the one mentioned.
She would claim it as a way to boost engagement and vowed to herself that she’d do it a few more times with other players throughout the week. Anything to stop the replies asking if Admin had the hots for Sway.
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Finding a coffee shop on the road was something Abby did every road trip; sitting in a hotel room editing photos or TikToks or thinking up (or responding to) tweets was lonely, and sitting in the practice arena of the day was normally too loud to be in for longer than strictly necessary. The coffee shops weren’t always much quieter, but there was at least natural sunlight shining through the windows and some fresh air entering when the door opened.
On a normal day, Abby was able to work uninterrupted. Logan never followed her, just as she never followed him, and she was left to read through the mind-numbing analytics without losing concentration. She could count on one hand the number of times someone she knew had found her hiding spot which is why she was not at all expecting a hotel key and pair of sunglasses to be placed right next to her mouse and for someone to ask her what it was she was drinking.
Looking back over her shoulder, she made eye contact with Jeremy Swayman.
“Do you want one?” he prompted after being met with silence, gesturing to the empty coffee mug.
She considered whether she needed another entire coffee, before conceding, “a flat white with oat milk, please.”
He sat down on the empty stool beside her, pushing his sunglasses out of the way and resting his elbows onto the table. He looked exhausted, which wasn’t a great sign for it only being the middle of the season. Abby never knew what to ask the boys when she wasn’t holding a camera to their faces—not that she was regularly put into a position where she had to make conversation. It was so rare that she was certain that most of them didn’t even know her name. Jeremy didn’t seem bothered by the silence, instead opening up his phone and opening his Messages app with a red notification showing a very high number and responding to a text seemingly at random. Abby went back to her laptop, deciding to take a break from trying to work out what type of content needed to be scrapped in favour of opening up Indeed.
“What’s that website? Is that where people look for jobs?” Jeremy asked, peering over to her screen.
“Uh, yeah, most of the time.”
Her scrolling was half-hearted; it was nothing she hadn’t already seen before, and nothing she hadn’t already compared to what she was currently doing. Or making. The jobs she had the perfect set of skills for were few and far between because people didn’t tend to be leaving sports teams, and she hasn’t quite yet worked out how to transition out of that job yet.
“You want to leave the Bruins?” Jeremy asked after a few minutes of silence, leaning in just a little closer. His presence in her space was always hard to miss, and even more so when he was actively moving closer.
“No, not really. I’m just seeing what’s out there.”
“But what’s the point if you don’t want to leave?”
“You went to college; you have to have some understanding of what it’s like in the real world.” Abby, picking up on the ever so slight shrug in his shoulders, and the hint of embarrassment, continued in a gentler tone, “I have to check the market. It’s to see if there are similar jobs paying more, or if there’s a really good opportunity out there to get into marketing or something.”
“Check the market? Like testing it in free agency?”
“Yeah,” Abby nodded. “Except I don’t have an agent. I just have to do it myself.”
“Sounds really boring.”
“Boring and exhausting,” she admitted. “But hardly anybody gets any career progression by staying in the same job. I will have to leave the Bruins at some point.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows pulled together in the middle, but he nodded like he understood—Abby wasn’t wholly convinced that he did.
With his pre-game nap calling, Jeremy didn’t stay for much longer. He apologised for annoying her, and she hastily assured him that she was always happy to talk to him and left her with another coffee that he ordered for her on his way out.
He was long gone by the time Abby noticed a piece of paper he’d left behind where his hotel key had been. She lifted and flipped it to see it was important, expecting it to be the sleeve they were all given with their room keys, and did a double take when she saw something hastily handwritten instead of the hotel logo.
Room 914. See you soon.
A warmth that could only be brought on by Jeremy rose in Abby’s cheeks. She slammed her laptop shut, held her bag beside the table and swiped all of her belongings into it. It wasn’t anything she had expected, especially on the day of a game when she knew how specific a goalie’s routine was, but she wasn’t going to ignore such an obvious invitation.
The café was, thankfully, closer to the hotel than almost any other she’d found in other cities, so it was a short, fast-paced walk back. Her focus was so intense that she would have stepped out in front of a car if it weren’t for a woman grabbing her by the wrist to keep her on the sidewalk. It wasn’t one of Abby’s proudest moments, certainly, but she was on a mission and needed to make sure she was able to reach her destination before the rules changed.
Nobody else was in the lobby, that Abby noticed anyway, and her ride to the ninth floor was unimpeded—which was for the best because there was no way she would have been able to hold an intelligent, or intelligible, conversation had anybody tried.
Jeremy must have been waiting at the door with how fast he answered it after Abby’s first and only knock. He pulled her inside quickly, the door shutting heavily behind them as he crowded her against the door. She dropped her bag to the floor, the thud only causing a slight concern about her laptop, before his hands were curling into her hair and his mouth was drawing closer.
“Don’t leave,” he said, his breath moving over her lips. “Don’t find a new job.”
Abby wrapped her arms around his neck to stop herself from melting to the floor. She pressed her mouth to his, a silent promise that she wouldn’t go anywhere if he didn’t want her to.
His knee moved between her thighs, helping to keep her lift her further off the ground—closer to him—and added friction it gave to her jeans caused a breathy moan to leave her mouth.
“Are you done here?”
Abby looked up over the laptop screen she’d been staring at blankly, making eye contact with the aggressively raised eyebrow of the waiter and nodding sheepishly before slamming her laptop shut and leaving the café before anybody could read her mind.
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changisworld · 1 year ago
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hey ml, could i request a lee know x 9th member reader? they’re secretly fucking and the boys don’t know until they accidentally walk in on them.. 🫶🏻 (i love your work btw!!)
Hi! first of all thank you so much for liking my work, that means so much to me! & second of all I'm so sorry I've taken so long to publish your request, thank you for being patient<3
LOOOVEE this concept so much so thank you for suggesting it!
I hope this is up to your standards since you've been waiting WEEKS for it! feel free to anon me your thoughts.
Word count;2,839
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
main masterlist here
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SMUT WARNINGS: Slight sub/dom dynamics, first time fucking, soft sex tbh, sloppy oral(m rec), praise, pet names, slightly public sex(in a shared dorm), manhandling if you squint a whole lot, unprotected sex, blueballs(SORRYY LEEKNOW MY BABY), getting caught, fluffffffff, 9th member reader, mention of past encounters with leeknow.
Saying you were nervous when JYP told you you would be debuting with a boy group instead of the trainees you had been with for the past few years was a serious understatement, but it is now the best thing that has ever happened to you.
You help out a lot when it comes to producing and writing so you spend a lot of time with 3racha which is no surprise, you love the three guys with your entire heart but you can get quite antsy after a while, seeing since there's not as much time being spent with the other members, specifically the main dancer of the group, lee-know.
Because leeknow is an introvert, just like you, it took you both a while to actually warm up to one another and it doesn't help much that you're never having the chance to speak to him one-on-one conversations with him, always having at least one or two other members with you both, until one specific night that would end up secretly making lee-know and you each others favourite members.
You and the group have been practicing new choreographies for your new comeback and the members start saying their goodnights one by one as they leave the room, until an hour later it's just you and leeknow left still practicing. It's not awkward between you and him by any means so you both keep practicing and talking, just messing around. Your shoulders start getting painful and you complain and leeknow offers you a massage which you gladly accept and that's where and when your crush on each other started.
Over the space of a few weeks, you both felt the connection and crush on one another grew, purposely leaving the areas you're both working at to meet at the water dispensers in the building or walking to vending machines just to seek a glance at each other. After a few weeks of doing this, you were helping and recording leeknows parts for a song and then you called him out of the booth once you were satisfied with it and let him listen. As he is doing this, he is standing behind you, leaning down and his hands on either side of the desk, caging you in, making you swallow in your chest. One compliment of his hands leads to him allowing you to touch them, leading to him complimenting you back, leading to you both saying this is wrong because you work together then somehow that leads to you both making out.
You are both in your dorm right now, the one you are sharing with Jeongin, Seungmin and Felix, with leeknow, currently making out with him, something you don't have a lot of chances to do due to your schedule & also trying to hide it.
He is nibbling on your bottom lip every once in a while as his veiny hand is resting on your cheek, thumb caressing it as you're beneath him, hands cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Without realising it, your hips stutter slightly into his thigh, that is currently in between your legs. You feel your cheeks going hot instantly but you could swear you felt him smirk into your lips, so you repeat the action a few more times, trying to make it seem not so painfully obvious how desperate you secretly are. Leeknow pulls away his lips with a quiet pop noise but doesn't move away, just looking into your eyes instead. Your cheeks redden & you try to pull him back to your lip but he doesn't budge, making you shy away, slightly embarrassed. "be careful with what you're doing y/n" he hushes to you in a quiet, sweet voice, his ears red at the tips. "Yea, I'm sorry, was just, aah i don't know" you blush, turning your head to the side to try avoid his gaze but is quickly to paw at your face to get you to turn back. "you're horny? is that it?" he teases, already knowing the answer. "Don't speak like that! makes me shy" you let out a nervous giggle as you try to sit up, but leeknow is quick to stop that from happening, keeping you beneath him. "I wouldn't complain bunny, you can tell me, mkayyy? We just need to be.. careful, giving our situation." He strokes your hair, his face not giving much of what he is thinking away, making you a bit confused on what's going on. "Stooop, you're just confusing me." you play with his hair that is in front of his face, twirling it in your fingers, trying to not seem awkward.
He moves off of you but you're quickly being pulled by him so you're now straddling him which is a first for you both. Your heart is beating in your throat & your face gives it away instantly, which leeknow laughs at. "I'm saying, i'd be happy to help you, we both know how to keep secrets after all, don't we?" he questions, looking up at you as his hands find your waist and squeeze slightly, his face as if he is just talking about what he had for breakfast. You smile at his words, getting goose bumps from his hands on you but melting into them regardless. "I won't tell if you don't" you tease back, trying to sound bold and he smirks at you before pulling you in to kiss you again.
The kiss is quite soft but it only takes a few seconds before his tongue is poking at your lips and you gladly allow it inside, you now both tasting each other. He begins to move your hips against his and your breath stutters, liking the feeling but you begin feeling him growing beneath you as you're grinding against him even more. Your hand reaches down and begins palming the area of his hardening cock still covered by his sweatpants making him let out a small, low sigh which makes you pool in your panties.
Leeknow begins making his way down your jawline and then neck, giving it small kisses but making sure to not leave any marks, knowing it would be impossible to explain it to the other members and also the makeup artists who will need to cover it up. You let out small hums of approval as he is kissing the parts of your collarbone that he can reach while your shirt is still on, palming him a bit quicker and with a bit more pressure. "are you sure you wanna do this leeknow? I don't want this to mess anything up." you mumble out, trying to hold your moans back enough so your words don't splurge out. He lets go of your collarbone & look in your eyes, grinding ever so slightly into your hand. "It was messed up the second we kissed, jagi. We can stop if you want, no questions asked, but for some weird reason, i'm getting the feeling you want this too?" He says, sarcastically as one hand is still resting on your waist as the other is playing with the hem of your vest top. You take a deep breath in, smiling at his words before kissing him again with much more lust in the way your lips are moving together, already knowing the answer to what he said.
Your eyebrows furrow as he leans further back into the couch, your lips chasing him and in the process, your clothed cunt is now right on top of his clothed cock. Leeknow takes this chance to pull off your top, leaving you in a casual bra, not thinking this would happen so you didn't come more prepared. Your lips are interlocked again the second it comes off as your hands snake themselves under his shirt, making him hiss as your hands are a bit cold.
You break the kiss, both of your lips a darkened red colour now, swollen from the nibbles you have been given each other, looking glossy from the spit of your tongues tasting the other. He tries to keep you held against him but you move anyway and settle on your knees, untying his drawstrings, biting your bottom lip from the nerves, not looking at his face directly for more than a few seconds at a time.
"Y/n, should we go to your room? wouldn't want anyone to come back." He asks, putting his hand through your hair as he lifts his hips, helping you pull his sweatpants down, not actually caring about where you both are, just asking to make you feel more comfortable. "you gonna waddle to my room with your sweatpants at you knees? It's fine anyway, nobody's due to be back here for still quite a while, Felix made my room a bombsite earlier anyways." You joke, trying to calm your nerves as you see how big he is just underneath his underwear. He laughs a bit at your words and rests one hand on his stomach as he uses the other one to hold his hand over yours. "Mkay hunny, you just gonna stare at it or what, hmm?" He asks so casually, you would believe he wasn't affected at the situation if it wasn't for his bright red ears giving it away.
You let out a hum as you spit on his tip over his underwear, just to tease him and it works as he mewles under his breath, hips twitching. You pull down his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free, hitting his stomach over his shirt which he quickly throws to the side after taking it off. You take it and you look at it, admiring how a guys dick can be pretty, also admiring how big he actually is. You begin kissing the tip softly, letting some drool land on his tip ever so often. "please, put it in jagi, pretty please." He groans out, trying to sound normal but it coming out more whiney than anything. You giggle before doing what he requested, licking the underside slowly, circling the sweet spot at the bottom of his tip which makes his hips stutter again, making you pull away. "Don't rush, keep your hips down." you innocently smile at him, looking like a sight for sore eyes in front of him. He just nods his head and swallows, not wanting to ruin it.
You put the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around, making him gasp, which is music to your ears. You begin sucking deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you start bobbing your head, using your hand to jerk off the part you can't yet reach in the same rhythm, humming around him, tasting a faint taste of precum. "F-fucck bunny, f--feels so good, holy shit, make sure there's plenty of spit, lo-love that." he groans, eyes trying their hardest to not roll into the back of his head as he is looking at you, head resting on his arm behind his head as the other is holding your hair in a ragged ponytail, holding it out of your face.
You let go of his cock with a loud pop before gurgling the spit that has formed while sucking and you spit it all back onto his dick, soaking it even more than it already is. You take it back in your mouth and within a few seconds of you jerking him at the base and hollowing your cheeks as much as you can along with the wet noises you're making, Leeknow is pulling you off him by the hair as gently as possible, his chest moving quickly and his face flushed, pretty much gasping.
"was g'na cum, w-wanted to put it inside, may-maybe? If not that's fine" he says, voice higher pitched and his tone of voice a lot more unsure sounding, sounding unsure. You lean in and kiss the tip of his nose and nod your head and a few seconds later, you're lying on the couch, on your back as he helps take off your bottoms and underwear with it, leaving you in just your bra and leeknow in between your legs, pushing them back so you can hold them. "You got a condom bunny?" he questions, eyes basically shining with adoration of what he is seeing, jerking slowly. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean, I'm assuming we both are, we are too busy to fuck anyone." you joke, feeling so comfortable in front of him despite being naked, your heart fluttering as he smiles. "Yeah, i'm clean. Ima push in now, you sure?" He asks in a loving voice, other hand caressing the back of your thigh.
You nod and that's as much confirmation he needs and he aligns himself up with you and begins pushing inside. You both gasp and shudder as he buries himself to the hilt and he reaches and takes your hand in his as he begins slowly thrusting. The dorm is filled with quiet moans, oo's and aah's from the both of you, looking into each others eyes. "f-feels so good, so b-good" you whine, words not making much sense as they vomit out of you. Leeknow blushes at your words and leans forward, not stopping his thrusts for a second. He reaches your lips and pecks your cheek, the sweat from his face now in his hair, sticking to his forehead. "You l-look so pretty like this, so pretty. So w-wet for me jagi, so good." You get butterflies in your stomach, feeling your heart getting warm.
Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and your lips connect again, whining into each other. You start to feel yourself bubbling up inside and Leeknows moans and shushed whimpers are just pushing you even further towards it. Your legs begin to feel like jelly as you are both meeting each other midway, thrusting into one another when the front door to the dorm opens.
You and Leeknow freeze as Felix and Seungmin walk inside, shrieking as they see what is happening on the shared couch. "I knew it Seungmin i fucking told you dance has been different because of them, the tension was right! This is our couch too what the fuck! do it in your damn room!" Felix yelps, swivelling around so his back is to you both, who are both still frozen in shock but luckily for you, they can only see your legs that are hanging against Leeknows waist and seeing his head, that is now poking up, looking at them both like a deer in headlights. "We are gonna pretend we didn't fucking see this, scrub the damn couch, we will ask questions later, get dressed!!" Seungmin says, jaw on the floor. Seungmin drags them both into Seungmin and Jeongins room and slams the door behind them.
You and Leeknow look at each other for a minute, not even saying anything. "I can't believe i just got blueballed by Seungmin and the one person who is gonna be a blabbermouth." Leeknow jokes before pulling out, way softer than he was. You giggle as you sit up next to him as he leans in and cuddles into you and you nuzzle your face in his neck. "what do we even say to them and no doubt the rest of the group?" you whisper, giving his neck a few pecks. "well we can either deny it and make them sound crazy and stop seeing each other or we could just.. fess up? We can.. do what ever one you prefer." He says sounding a bit defeated. You remove yourself from his neck and look at him, his face looking a bit bummed out, even though he's trying not to show it. You turn his head to look at you and you smile at him "I.. I would be lying if I said I wanted to stop, I would be lying if I said I haven't developed a mini crush on you, If you think it's easier to stop it all though, we totally can! no pressure!"
You begin looking at the floor, thinking you just ruined it and being embarrassed. The silence fills the room and you sigh before leaning down to gather your clothes but he gives you his shirt instead. "I thought the crush was one sided, thank god. I've been too nervous to fess up" he chuckles slightly, you both blushing as he hugs you again, kissing your head. "We can discuss this a whole lot more while we aren't naked, in your dorm livingroom as our members are down the hall though, mkay? We can mayybee go out on a date after we tell JYP and speak about it then, sound good?" He jokes again, smiling at you. "I guess that would be good" you say, joking back as you push his sweaty hair out of hi face. He begins reaching out for the clothes sprawled out on the floor, Him helping you get changed.
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bagdaddyb · 1 year ago
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Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!
I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!
It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!
Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗
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Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader
Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW
AN: Wanda 🥰
You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.
"This has been a real shit show eh?"
Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.
"Not anymore than usual."
You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.
"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)
The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.
"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."
A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.
"They're on the move."
You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.
"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."
You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.
"Privet." (Hello.)
You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.
"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)
You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.
"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)
The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.
"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"
Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.
"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)
With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.
"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."
You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.
"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."
You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.
"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."
It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.
"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."
You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.
"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."
You finish with a smile.
"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"
They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.
"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."
With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.
"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)
Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.
"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)
"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"
You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.
"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"
"No."
You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.
"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")
You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.
"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"
You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.
"Not a morning person?"
You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.
"Not at all."
She says somewhat grumpily.
"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"
You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.
"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."
The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.
"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."
Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.
"Okay."
The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.
"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)
You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.
"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)
You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.
"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."
You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.
"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."
Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.
"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)
Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.
"I asked what your favorite dish is."
"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."
You turn and smile softly her way.
"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."
In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.
"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."
You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.
"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."
Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.
"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."
Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.
"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."
You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.
"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)
Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.
"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"
The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.
"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."
Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.
"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."
The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.
"Always hmmm?"
You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.
"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."
You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.
"Soo?"
Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.
"Nothing."
"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)
You merely shrug.
"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."
Natasha laughs at that.
"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)
"Not just any alpha, Wanda."
The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.
"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."
Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.
"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."
Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.
Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.
"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."
You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.
"Omega."
She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.
"Mate."
She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.
"It hurts."
Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.
"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)
You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.
"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."
Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.
"Mate."
The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.
"Mine."
Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.
"Need to feel you alpha."
Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.
"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)
Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.
"Mine."
Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.
"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."
Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.
"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)
She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.
"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."
Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.
"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."
Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.
"I'm right here."
Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.
"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."
Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.
"Alpha. Alpha."
You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.
"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."
You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.
"My mate, my omega."
10 months later.
You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.
"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)
You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.
"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."
You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.
"But...."
"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."
You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.
"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)
You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.
"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)
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sequinsmile-x · 2 months ago
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400 - Part 2
She has to remind herself to breathe. Everything that usually comes naturally, that she does without thought, feels hard. Impossible. As if her body was slowly shutting down, as if the reality of what was happening was slowly catching up with her.
My 400th Hotchniss fic
Part 2/2
Part 1
-x-
Hi besties,
Thank you so much for the love on part 1 <3 as always, it really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy this second part.
Let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings: pregnancy, canon typical violence, Aaron Hotchner whump, angst
Words: 4.9k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Time moves like syrup. She feels like she’s drowning in it, each second and minute that passes thick and cloying in her throat as she tries to breathe. 
As three days turn into four, as the week turns into the weekend, she starts to lose what little hope she’d been clinging to. The house feels empty without him even with the boys there with her. She’d always loved Aaron’s size. Always loved that she felt small against him, safe and tucked up in his arms. There wasn’t a spot in their home that was untouched by it. Their bed. The couch. The kitchen. The boy’s rooms. He’d wrapped his arms around her from behind in all of them. Had kissed her cheek as they watched Jack and Lucas sleep in their own beds after she’d had a nightmare. He’d do the same as she made them dinner or breakfast, or baked his favourite cookies. He’d smile and laugh as she told him off for sticking his finger in the dough to taste it. 
She usually loved it. Loved that every place she looked she could see reflections of them, memories of how he loved her pressed into the walls. Now it felt like it was haunting her. Their home slowly turning into a museum of what she’d once had as the likelihood of getting him back faded away. 
“Mom?” 
She looks up at the sound of Jack’s voice and she smiles, “Hey, kiddo. Are you okay?”
He nods as he walks towards the couch, stopping just short of joining her as he twists his hands in front of him, “Where’s Luke?” 
“He’s napping,” she says, nodding towards the monitor on the coffee table, the video feed of her son sleeping enough to make her smile, “We probably have about 30 minutes before he wakes up if you want to watch that show you like with no interruptions.”
A nervous smile flashes across his face, “Maybe.” 
She furrows her brow, “Are you okay? You can tell me anything, you know that.”
“I don’t want to upset you.” 
It makes her ache, carves out a piece of her heart she didn’t think she still had to give, and she wonders how it’s still beating with all the parts of it that were currently missing.
“Oh honey,” she says, reaching out for him, smiling in a way she hopes is encouraging as he wraps his hands around hers, his short nails digging into her skin, “You could never upset me, okay?” She pats the couch next to her, “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s wrong?” 
Jack nods and sits next to her, both of his hands still wrapped around hers, his focus on her wedding rings as he plays with them, “I know something is wrong with Dad.” 
Emily closes her eyes and presses her lips together to contain a sigh, her decision to try and protect the boys suddenly one she found herself regretting, “Jack-”
“You’re so sad, and I know you’re trying to pretend you’re not. But I’m not little like Luke is, you don’t have to protect me.” 
She smiles at that, sadness pressed into the edges of it as she pushes his hair from his forehead, an idle thought that he was overdue a haircut somehow pushing through everything else. 
“You could be my age and I’d still want to protect you,” she says, taking a deep breath as she watches his hair flop back onto his forehead, “But yes, something has happened with your Dad.”
“What happened?” 
She sighs, deciding to be as honest as she can be without scaring him any more than she has to, “That’s part of the problem, Jack. I don’t know.” 
She tells him as soft of a version of it as she can. That a bad man had taken Aaron, that he was keeping him somewhere, and they were doing everything they could to find him. He nods and listens intently, a level of understanding in his eyes that makes her want to cry. He’d been through so much in his short life, too much, and she wished she could do more to protect him from this too. 
She wished she could stop him from facing the reality that he might be about to lose another parent. 
“Will they find him?” 
“Aunt JJ, Uncle Derek and the rest of the team are doing everything they can,” she promises him, “And are so my team.”
He nods, “If…” 
She kisses the side of his head and scratches his scalp, unsure if she’s seeking out comfort or providing it, “If, what, sweet boy?”
“If Daddy doesn’t come back,” he starts, his eyes shining in a way she knows her’s are too, “Will I have to go live somewhere else?” 
His question surprises her, somehow the sting out of the thought of them moving forward without Aaron, “What do you mean?” 
“You’re my mom, but I’m not your real baby like Lucas is,” he murmurs, a tear finally slipping free, “Will I still be allowed to live with you if they don’t find Daddy?” 
Her breath stutters in her chest, her lungs barely filling with it as she holds him closer, her hands cupping his head against her chest as she kisses the top of his head. The thought of losing Aaron, of Jack losing another parent, of Lucas and the baby not having memories of their father, heavier at the mere idea of losing Jack too. Of her eldest being torn from her at her lowest moment. 
“That won’t happen,” she assures him, wiping away his tears as she encourages him to look at her, “When I married Daddy, we did some paperwork to make sure I can look after you no…no  matter what happens,” she smiles tightly at him, “You’re my kid, and you’re not going anywhere.” She says, and he almost sags with relief, his face pressing against her neck as he sinks into her. She holds him close, “I’ve got you, baby.” 
“I love you, Mommy.”
She quickly wipes a tear from her cheek before she runs her fingers through his hair, “I love you too.”
They stay like that, huddled on the couch until Lucas wakes up. She goes upstairs to get him and he joins them. She puts on a movie she’s seen a hundred times or more, one she and Aaron always joked that they could reenact for Lucas and Jack if it was needed, and she sits squished between her sons. The day slips by slowly, each minute feeling like an hour as she obsessively checks her phone for updates. 
Neither Lucas nor Jack want to sleep in their own beds and she doesn’t argue. Doesn’t try and convince them to go, instead, she and Jack sit in bed after Lucas falls asleep with the TV volume low, and she stays when he falls asleep too. She doesn’t remember lying down, doesn’t remember falling asleep, but her phone wakes her up. It tears her from a restless sleep, the sound of it disorientating her briefly before she answers it. She scrambles desperately for her phone, her gaze flicking between the alarm clock on the nightstand and Lucas and Jack sleeping on Aaron’s side of the bed. She doesn’t pause to note the time, 3.35 am, or to think about the fact JJ was calling her in the middle of the night. 
She knew she’d be calling because she had news either way, and Emily wanted her sons to sleep through at least one more night where they still had a father. 
“JJ,” she says as she answers, throwing the covers off of her lap so she can stand up, looking at the boys one more time before she walks out of the bedroom, “What’s happened?” 
“We found him, Em.” 
She covers her eyes with her left hand, the metal of her wedding rings cold against her skin. For a moment, a horrible, heart wrenching, moment it feels like everything is happening all at once. 
She can see herself burying her husband, raising her sons and the baby she didn’t know yet by herself, her rings on her finger until one day she suddenly puts them on a necklace. The thunk of them against her chest every time she walks a much needed reminder that she’d once been loved in a way she never imagined she would be. 
She can also see herself walking into his hospital room, her smile shaky as she sees he’s okay with her own eyes, before she takes him home and looks after him. The boys sat on either side of him in bed as they show him get well soon cards they’d made him, loose glitter that she’d find for weeks slipping onto the sheets around them. 
She clears her throat and tries, and fails, to breathe in, “Is he…”
“He’s alive.” 
She knows she would have fallen over if she wasn’t leaning on the wall, her body suddenly heavy and light at the same time. The relief is overwhelming, washing over her like a wave before it pulls her under, her lungs flooding with it so quickly her voice is hoarse, “He’s alive?” 
“He’s alive. He’s…hurt. And dehydrated. But he’s alive and on the way to the hospital.” 
She sobs, trying and failing to capture it as she places her hand over her mouth, “I need to see him,” she turns and looks through the door to the bedroom at the boys curled up in the bed, “The boys-”
“Derek is with me, he’s driving me to your place. I’ll stay with Jack and Lucas and he’ll take you to the hospital.” 
She nods even though her friend can’t see her, “What happened? Who…where was he?” 
JJ hesitates, and Emily can hear Derek in the background, his voice muffled, and then JJ sighs, “We’ll tell you when we see you.” 
She wants to argue, wants to demand to know what the hell her husband had been through the last several days, but she doesn’t have it in her, all of her energy focused on not falling to pieces in the hallway, “Okay. I’ll see you soon. Call when you get here, the boys are asleep.” 
She hangs up and leans back against the wall, her head thunking against it as she closes her eyes, forcing herself to focus on Jack’s soft snoring filtering out through the slightly open door. 
He was alive. 
___
Derek drives her to the hospital. 
For the first time in days, time feels like it’s going too fast, her head spinning as she tries to get it around everything she’d been told. 
The man who’d died in the explosion, the man she’d known wasn’t her husband the moment she saw his body, was one of two unsubs. He’d been in the army, had lost his friends and wanted his revenge on the people he thought were responsible and he’d roped his brother into helping him. The explosion that had killed him had been an accident, and once they’d identified his body the rest had slowly fallen into place until they found his brother, and Aaron, holed up in an abandoned house once owned by the unsubs parents. 
Clyde had called her shortly after JJ, a smugness in his voice that makes her furious as he wishes her good morning from London. He told her that he’d ensure the unsub's names disappeared into obscurity, that the things they had done in the name of revenge would one day soon be remembered by very few people. She wished she could be one of them, that one day she’d forget the handful of days she thought her husband was dead, but she knew that was impossible. That this was another fracture she’d have to heal in her heart. 
He’d ended the call with a demand that she didn’t come back to work until Aaron was okay, his wry comment about how Aaron had threatened him once, and would be capable of doing so again even if incapacitated, the closest he came to admitting he’d been worried for her. 
“You should prepare yourself,” Derek says as he parks outside the hospital, “He looks…” he clears his throat and trails off, “You should prepare yourself.” 
She nods absentmindedly, her eyes fixed on the hospital entrance as she wonders how bad it must be if Derek has mentioned it, “Thanks.” 
“Want me to come in with you?” 
She shakes her head and turns to look at him, “No, it’s okay. Thank you though.” 
She gets out of the car before she can say anything else, the sleeves of her sweater pulled down over her fists as she walks into the hospital, a confidence in her step she thinks she’ll need to get past the staff at this time of night. She manages it, sure they take pity on her because of a combination of her badge and her obvious anxiety, and they show her through to Aaron’s room. 
Derek was right to warn her. Aaron’s face seemed more bruised than it wasn’t, swollen patches of black and blue scattered across his skin like a grim painting. His left arm was in a sling and he looked thinner, like he’d lost some of the strength he always seemed to have an endless amount of in the close to five days he’d been gone. She remembers what the doctor told her, the number of injuries and ailments he’d listed off like they meant nothing, as if they hadn’t happened to a man she loved more than life itself. 
Broken clavicle. 
Dislocated shoulder. 
Fractured cheekbone. 
Cracked ribs. 
Severe dehydration.
The first signs of hypothermia. 
He’d be here for days, maybe a week, and she knew that he’d argue with her over it. He was going to be a massive pain in the ass, and the thought of it makes her smile, because at least he was here to be a pain in the ass. 
The alternative was something she couldn’t bear to think about. 
She makes she’s quiet as she walks towards his bed and she sits in the chair next to him. She wraps her hand around his and the coolness of his skin makes a shiver run down her spine. He was always warm, a walking furnace, and she loved it. She kisses his hand and then rests her forehead against it, the cool press of his knuckles against her skin a stark reminder of what she’d come so close to losing. 
She stands up the moment she feels his hand twitch in hers, the slight movement of his fingers stark in comparison to the stillness surrounding them. It reminds her too much of another time she’d sat by his bed, when she’d had to sit on her hands to stop herself from reaching out for him because he wasn’t hers then. 
She sits on the edge of his bed and sandwiches his hand in between hers, lifting them to kiss his knuckles, her lips catching against old scars as he opens his eyes. He’s tired, his eyelids so heavy he can barely lift them, but he smiles when he sees her. 
“Hi,” she chokes out, her voice not sounding like her own as she kisses his knuckles again. 
“Hi,” he replies, his voice rough and thick, the word barely making it past his lips. He tries to squeeze her hand but there’s hardly any strength to it, and it reminds her just how close she came to losing him. 
“I’m pregnant,” she says, the admission slipping out without her meaning it to, floating in the air between them, light and free. She sees the moment it registers, his eyebrows furrowing, and she realises what she’s said in the same moment he does, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I just spent the last few days thinking I might never get to tell you,” she says, pressing her lips together to stop the shake in them. She pushes her fingers through his hair, smiles sadly as it flops back down onto his forehead like the boy’s hair did when she did the same to them, “So I didn’t want you to go another minute not knowing.” 
He smiles, squeezing her hand again, a little more strength behind it this time, “We’re having a baby?”
“Yeah,” she says, choking on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He tries and fails to lift his hand to her cheek, and she does it for him, lifts their joint hands and rests her cheek against his, “We’re having a baby.” 
“I love you,” he says, and she nods, turning her head to kiss his hand. 
“I love you too,” she replies, kissing his hand again, “I…”
She drifts off, the words she wasn’t sure how to say dying in her throat, everything she’d spent the last few days thinking heavy and cloying in her gut. He nods, his smile lopsided because of the swelling in his face, and he briefly squeezes her hand again.
“I know,” he replies, because he did, because they so rarely needed words to understand each other, “The boys?” 
“They’re okay,” she says, dropping their hands back down to the bed, her thumb drawing idle patterns on his wrist so she can feel the rhythm of his pulse. It was something she’d found comfort in countless times - after nightmares or flashbacks, after a hard case at work. After she thought she’d never get to feel it again, “Lucas doesn’t know much. He thinks you were on a case. Jack…he knows some of it.” 
Aaron nods, “Can you bring them here? The doctor said I’ll be here a while and I don’t want to wait until I go home to see them.” 
“Of course,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, feeling the grime in it as she casts a look over his face again, over the bruising and swelling she knew would get worse before it got better, “I’m going to have to prepare them though,” she adds, a smile flickering across her face, “I don’t know if anyone has told you, but you look like shit.” 
He laughs, a full-bodied thing that has him wincing the second he starts, the sound she loves turning into a groan, “Please don’t make me laugh quite yet, it hurts.” 
“Sorry, baby,” she says, leaning down to kiss him, making sure she’s careful not to hurt him anymore, “I’ll bring them tomorrow.” 
He nods, his forehead knocking against hers, “I missed them. I missed you.” 
She blows out a shaky breath and leans in, resting her head against his good shoulder so he doesn’t see the tears that finally fall past her lashline. 
“We missed you too. So much.”
___
“Now,” she says, adjusting her hold on Lucas, making sure she’s comfortable on her hip as she tugs at his sweater to make sure his belly is covered, “Do you remember what I said?” 
“Daddy’s sick.” 
She nods and runs her fingers through his hair, “Exactly sweet boy, and he’s hurt. So we have to be careful,” she says, turning to look at Jack, smiling at him, “Okay?” 
Jack nods, and his smile trembles. She’s reminded of when he’d last visited Aaron in hospital just over two years ago. She was heavily pregnant with Lucas at the time and she’d forced her husband to go to the doctor when he was clearly sick. The only thing that had stopped her from telling him I told you so when the doctors told him he had internal bleeding, that if he’d waited any longer it would have become critical, was her fear of losing him. She’d sat by his bedside for hours, eventually forced home by him and a nurse who took pity on her. She’d come back with Jack the next day. They’d brought Aaron grapes and his favourite candy. 
It felt different this time. Jack’s understanding of it all was sharper, something that felt oddly balanced out by Lucas’s lack of understanding. She reaches out for Jack and pulls him in for a hug, something he returns so fiercely she almost cries, her hormones and the weight of everything that had happened the last several days almost pushing her under. She somehow gathers herself, forces herself to hold it together for her husband and her children. 
She could fall to pieces when she had Aaron home. When her house felt like more than a mausoleum of her happiest moments, everything turned to dust without him there to bear witness with her. 
“Ready?” She asks, running her hand up and down Jack’s arm, and he nods against her, “Let’s go see Daddy.” 
Jack tenses against her when they walk into Aaron’s room, frozen in place as he sees the extent of his father’s injuries. Emily had taken photos of Aaron and shown them to the boys after she explained he was hurt in an attempt to prepare them, but she knows the pictures didn’t do his injuries justice. That she couldn’t show them the smell of antiseptic that had replaced his cologne, or the way he seemed almost delicate, a far cry from the father they knew and loved. 
After a moment, Jack walks forward, his steps tentative until he stops just short of Aaron’s bed, “Hi Dad.” 
“Hi buddy,” he replies, smiling as he holds up his good hand, “How about a hug?” 
Jack hesitates, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 
“You won’t,” Aaron says, flashing a smile at him, “Just be careful, okay?” 
Jack nods and climbs onto the bed, missing how Aaron winces just for a second before he settles against his good side. Aaron wraps his arm around him and holds him as tight as he can. 
“I missed you, Dad,” Jack says, “I tried to be brave whilst you were gone.” 
“You’re always brave,” Aaron replies, smiling over at Emily and Lucas, “Hi Lukey.” 
Lucas holds onto Emily a little tighter, as if he’s trying to slip under her skin, and she exchanges a nervous smile with her husband before she turns her attention to her youngest. 
“Are you okay, sweet boy?” She says, taking a step towards the bed, her heart aching as he holds her even tighter, as if his tiny fist was wrapped around it and not her sweater, “Do you want to sit with Daddy too?”
“No!” Lucas shouts, burying her face in his neck, turning his head away so he can no longer see Aaron. Emily doesn’t know what breaks her heart more, the look on Aaron’s face as Lucas cowers away from him, or the hot press of her youngest son’s tears against her neck. She blows out a shaky breath and kisses the top of Lucas’s head, shifting so she can look at his face, her smile as bright as it is false as she wipes tears from his cheeks.
“Why don’t you sit with me for a little bit?” She says, smiling when he nods, his hold on her sweater no less tight. She sits in the chair next to Aaron’s bed, throwing him and Jack a reassuring smile as she settles Lucas on her lap, “We can sit here whilst Daddy and Jack sit on the bed.” 
She can almost forget everything that’s happened, can almost forget they aren’t at home, that Aaron has weeks of recovery ahead of him, as Jack and Aaron talk to each other, the conversation less stilted, less sad, with each minute that ticks by. Eventually, Lucas calms down too, loosening his grip on her as he turns to look at Aaron, slowly but shortly shifting forward on her lap until she lifts him and places him on the bed too. He shuffles up towards Aaron and places his little hand on his face before he leans in to kiss his cheek. 
“Better?” Lucas asks, and Emily has to look away for a moment to gather herself, her son’s tenderness something she hoped the world would never take from him. And she looks back in time to see Aaron smile as he nods.
“Yeah, buddy. I feel a lot better.” 
___
“They’re both asleep,” Emily says as she steps into the bedroom, smiling at Aaron as she leaves the door slightly open so the boys can sneak in during the night, “I have a feeling we might end up with one or both of them in our bed tonight,” she slips into bed next to him, keeping a small distance between them, “They slept in here every night you weren’t here.” 
Aaron hums, his hand rubbing absentmindedly at the sling on his left shoulder, “That’s okay. I missed them when I was in hospital.” 
She smiles and captures his hand, her eyebrow raised as she squeezes it and lowers it from his shoulder, “They missed you too.” 
He’d spent six days in hospital and she’d brought him home that afternoon. The relief had been palpable, something she could feel thrumming under her skin, when she helped him into the house. The 10 days since he had last been there with her felt like a lifetime, endless possibilities of what could have happened stretched out between now and then.
There was so much he hadn’t told her yet, so much he hadn’t explained and so much she didn’t want to ask. She was sure the answers about what he’d been through would hurt when he eventually gave them to her, that she’d feel very blow as if she’d taken it herself, but she’d listen and comfort and love. It’s what they did for each other. 
It’s what they’d always do for each other. 
He smiles at her and reaches out for her, his hand in the gap between them, “Come here.” 
“I-”
“You won’t hurt me,” he says, stopping her argument before she can really start it, “I want to hug my wife. I think I’ve earned a hug” 
She sighs, knowing she can’t argue with him now, and she shakes her head as she shifts closer to him, “You’re playing dirty.” 
He chuckles as she leans against him, wrapping his arm around her as best as he can before he kisses the top of her head, “It’s going to be a while before we can actually play dirty, sweetheart.” 
She scoffs and shakes her head, happiness she hadn’t felt in days planting itself in her gut, the flowers of it blooming in her chest, “Between your injuries and my pregnancy fatigue it might be a while before we can manage anything more than cuddling.” 
“That’s okay,” he says, kissing the top of her head again, taking a moment to breathe her in, “I like cuddling with you,” he places his hand on her still flat belly, “Did you schedule your appointment?” 
She nods and tilts her head up to look at him, “It’s on Monday. I did some period math and I’m about 8 weeks along, so baby will look like a little bean.” 
“I remember seeing Jack and Lucas that small,” he says, smiling wistfully, the thought that he’d come so close to never even knowing about this baby, let alone seeing them on a screen, never too far away, “They grow up so fast.” 
“Shush,” she says, playfully frowning at him, “My little boys aren’t ever getting any older. They are staying perfect and this age forever, so they’ll never smell like they don’t know what deodorant is or tell me they hate me for not letting them go to a party.” 
He chuckles, “Maybe this one will be a girl to balance things out a little.” 
She smiles at the thought of it. Of a little girl who liked like her but had her father’s smile and temperament, “A girl would be nice,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder, “But so would a boy.”
“Really?” He asks, and she nods, stamping her lips against his before she settles back down against him. 
“Really,” she replies, “I can think of a lot worse things than being surrounded by Hotchner boys for the rest of my life.” She wraps both of her arms around his good one, turning her head to stamp a kiss against his shoulder, “I’m so glad you’re home.” 
“Me too,” he replies, resting his cheek on the top of his head, “The nurses at the hospital were nowhere near as good at cuddling as you are.” He smiles when she scoffs at him and he kisses the top of her head, “I’m glad I’m home too,” he says seriously, “I think…”
She frowns when he drifts off and she lifts her head to look at him, “You think what, honey?” 
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head, “You’ll tell me I’m being cheesy.”
She smiles, “When has that ever stopped you before?” She asks, running her knuckles gently down his cheek, “Tell me.” 
He sighs, and she knows she’s won already, that he’d never really been able to resist her anyway, “I was going to say - I think you’re my home. You and the boys,” he puts his hand on her belly again. “And this one.” 
She presses her lips together, trying to contain a smile she couldn’t have imagined spreading across her face just a few days ago. She leans in and kisses him, barely pulling back before she speaks, her response skipping across his face. 
“You’re my home too.” 
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froidefille · 2 months ago
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Day 21: a fic rated M
📚 Among the Elements by @sweet-s0rr0w
Draco/Harry, 8.3k, M
Summary:
Harry getting pregnant might have been an accident, but Draco means it when he says that he’s all in. What he doesn’t expect is to find himself all alone in St Mungo’s neonatal unit, making life-or-death decisions for a tiny human he’s never even held.
Yet another Mpreg fic on my list! I remember being on a con 10 years ago where a brave soul made a whole lecture on Mpreg to a hundred people in the audience. I have so much respect for this person years later because that must have taken some balls to do 😀 Anyway, I remember a part of the lecture were on theories on why this trope is so popular and I remember exactly zero of them but yeah, there is something to this trope and I indeed do love it 😇
This one is a gentle, raw, aching story.
The relationship between the boys is so mature, so profound and yet so on edge! Also, I will NEVER get tired of Draco being adopted by the Weasleys, and in thic fic it is so delicately done <3 But by far my favourite aspect of it is the way it describes the tiredness of being a new parent so touchingly *melts* I thought about sending it to my friend who has a 6-week old baby but I just thought it would be too rough on her to have the experience being caught in words. I’ll send it to her in a few months tho:
She’d blathered on about ley lines and standing stones and planetary alignment while Draco tried not to weep with exhaustion at the very thought of a midnight ceremony. Everything’s so heavy now, waterlogged: his old self gasping for air somewhere between feeds and changes, between nights spent mumbling Wakefulness charms to avoid falling asleep with Scorpius in his arms and days filled with the stomach-churning terror that he’s doing this all wrong.
And just have a look at the below ONE sentence that somehow encapsulates the wonder of getting to know a brand new family member that haven’t existed yesterday:
“Scorpius,” Draco echoes, as he burrows closer – and for the first time, the word is more than just a sharpness behind Draco’s breastbone, more than an absence of air in his lungs: it’s a promise. A gift. Their future.
 *cries* more than just a sharpness hehind his breastbone 😭 more than an absence of air in his lungs 😭 😭 😭
Thank you for today’s prompt @hprecfest and @sweet-s0rr0w for all your delightful works!
Some more of beautiful words under the cut <3
PS. Just to let you know – it’s quite possible I may need to take a break for the next few days. Christmas is pretty crazy in my home, there’s a hundred dumplings to make, at least six cakes and eight other dishes </3 And I am exagerating none of it, damn the traditional Polish cuisine. Wish me luck!!
It had all happened so fast. One moment: Christmas classics on the Wireless, box-knives through packing tape, hanging tiny Quidditch outfits on the line, talking hopes and dreams over ice cream at midnight. The next: panicked shouts, Expecto Patronum (five times before it worked), stern-voiced medics, and a harsh, insistent bleeping that no-one but Draco seemed to hear. One day: Harry, carrying their baby, a beautiful, remarkable, imperfect family that Draco still couldn’t quite wrap his head around. And the next– The next day, Draco had found himself perched on the edge of a plastic armchair, staring numbly through a magical field at the blurry, purplish outline of a baby he didn’t know. His baby, the sign said, though the thin-skinned, bony-limbed creature below resembled neither a Malfoy nor a Potter, but something else entirely. Hardly a baby at all. 
The angsttttttt *cry*
Draco pictures a child, small and uncertain, clinging to Harry amidst the hustle and bustle of a busy September Kings Cross platform. He imagines a boy, tall and handsome, beaming up at him from the middle of a Quidditch pitch. He thinks of endless hospital visits, endless frustrating tests, of three lives trapped between separate worlds. And then there’s Harry, shielded in a magical coma, clinging to life by the faintest of threads. Harry, brave, beautiful Harry, who was starved and beaten and raised in a cupboard, all for being different.
The way Draco, with all his pureblood upbringing, knowing nothing but magic, decides in a instant that he’d rather have Scorpius healthy than magical – there were tears in my eyes, I swear.
“I’m sorry,” Draco says all at once, his mother’s disapproval echoing in his head. He’s a disappointment, he knows – to her, and now probably to Pansy, but he’s made up his mind. He can’t let Harry down, not with this. “Oh, my darling,” Pansy whispers, looking for all the world as though she can’t decide whether to smack him or hug him. In the end, she just reaches over to pour him some wine.
Oh Pansy! I have grown to love Pansy in Drarry, I especially love when she’s a fiercely protective friend unrelenting in all her elegance all the same <3
You wanna grab some food? Harry had asked, once Scorpius was settled and they could dawdle by the cotside no longer, which was how Draco had found himself in the local Chinese, pulling out Harry’s chair for him, nerves and embarrassment tangling up inside his chest as he tried to make sense of the menu. They were parents when they’d barely been lovers, partners when they’d barely been friends, and now… this. This is new: this isn’t Harry bringing a fucked-out Draco peanut butter on toast as dawn breaks outside, or the two of them on the balcony in Malta, working their way through the room service menu in an effort to find anything that Harry could eat without gagging. This isn’t takeaway pizza in a half-decorated nursery, or another tray of beige hospital food, or Draco’s Sunday roast left untouched as life moves on around him at the Burrow. What this is – what it feels like – is a date. Draco’s first proper date with the man he sleeps beside, the father of his child, the person he’s fallen in love with somewhere along this brief, crazy journey. A date that goes well.
The fact that they had a baby before they went on a date – well, somehow I’m not even surprised, those boys 😂
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sidneycarter · 10 months ago
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love the idea that post The Situation thomas is just increasingly obtuse when it comes to jimmy's feelings.
so when one day mrs hughes mentions in passing at how much easier it is to handle james now he's settled down, thomas is incredibly confused. and a little bit heartbroken too of course.
it gets even stranger when on valentine's day alfred sulkily asks jimmy how many cards he's sent that year and jimmy merely shrugs and smirks. mrs patmore chastises them for gossiping and announces that surely, jimmy's only got one to be sending.
then one night, most of the staff are enjoying a rare night off in the pub. as usual, a host of pretty girls surround jimmy, and one particularly brave one asks jimmy if he's got any plans on one of his half days. jimmy throws her a cheeky wink and says "sorry, darling, but i'm spoken for."
thomas starts feeling really rather hurt. he's known all along that this would happen eventually - that jimmy would eventually move on and find a nice village lass, but it still stings to hear it. somehow, it hurts even more knowing that clearly jimmy has fallen for someone but he hasn't even told thomas.
thomas puts on a brave face and elbows daisy in the side. "d'ya hear that? jimmy's kept that quiet 'asn't he?"
daisy looks at him with a frown and cocks her head to the side. "well, not really--" but before she can say anything else she's swept up into the rowdy conversation of the table.
a few weeks later, thomas and jimmy are alone in the servants hall, with thomas reading the paper in his rocking chair and jimmy tapping out melodies on the piano. the tune he's playing is sweet and gentle, and thomas finds himself swaying his head along. as the song draws to a close, a gentle round of applause sounds from the doorway.
baxter stands smiling. "let me call you sweetheart is one of my favourites. it was beautiful, jimmy."
jimmy blushes prettily and stands, closing the piano lid. "thank you, mrs baxter. good night."
after he's gone from the room, baxter enters to fill herself a glass of water. she smiles fondly at thomas. "he's so smitten you know. head over heels." she rolls her eyes affectionately.
it takes months until thomas finally figures out the truth of what's going on. well, to say he figures it out is somewhat generous.
he's in the servants hall again, this time feeling a little despondent with a cup of tea. jimmy had gone to the pictures with alfred of all people, their friendship seemingly improved since jimmy's given up on chasing ivy's skirt. thomas is resolutely not waiting up to make sure jimmy gets home safe. anna is the only other person still up, and she sits opposite thomas stitching one of lady mary's hemlines in companionable silence.
thomas dwells on his own thoughts for a while, until anna rests her sewing on the table and fixes him with a worried look. "are you quite alright, mr barrow?"
"hm? oh, yes anna, i'm very well thank you." he takes a sip of his tea to hide his moue.
anna looks unconvinced. "thomas," she says seriously, "is it-- have you and jimmy had a falling out?"
that genuinely surprises thomas. for all his worry and sadness over jimmy's as yet unknown love interest, they'd never fallen out. "no, no, of course not. he's just busy, that's all, which is to be expected now he's, you know," thomas waves his cup vaguely in the air, "courting the mystery lady."
anna chokes on a laugh. "the mystery lady?"
"yes. he's-- he's courting someone, isn't he? everyone keeps saying that he's... or suggesting that he's taken with someone." Thomas adds somewhat bitterly, "seems quite serious if you ask me. not that he's told me anything about it of course."
anna stops giggling and looks at him oddly. "thomas you-- you can't mean--"
"-- do you know who she is, anna?" thomas interrupts a little desperately. he's becoming tired of it all and he just wants to know-- how bad it is, for how long he's going to have to tend to his broken heart.
"thomas. thomas, jimmy's sweetheart is-- well, it's you."
"me?" thomas has a brief, sickening memory of his feelings before, and how miss o'brien toyed with them so badly. but he knows in his gut, that anna would never, and could never do that. he knows she's being honest, as confusing and terrifying as the statement may be.
"yes." anna smiles. "he's like a little puppy when he's with you. surely you've noticed? he gazes at you with stars in his eyes. he wants to do everything you do, and it seems like every other conversation is all about what you've been telling him this week. he only ever plays love songs on the piano when you're in the room. he laughs at all your jokes and he's not even glanced in the direction of a girl since last year." anna shakes her head. "i thought you knew and were just letting him get used to it."
"no i didn't -- i didn't know, i thought," thomas can feel himself blushing, "i don't know what i thought."
anna stands with a stifled yawn. "you make each other very happy. if you really didn't know, i think you ought to talk to him. good night, mr barrow."
"good night anna. and thank you."
thomas is left in the still and quiet of the room, watching the steam spiral up from his cup. a private and hopeful smile spreads across his face. yes, he thinks, nodding his head, perhaps we should talk.
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jusst-you-race · 6 months ago
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Perhaps 56. “It brings out your eyes.” for a rare pairing of your choice?
my lovely Liquid thank you for this prompt and thank you for then immediately giving me Choscar office au brainworms for it <3 i hope you enjoy this!!!! prompt list
“It brings out your eyes.”
Oscar sighs, reading the text on his phone for the hundredth time this morning.
Enjoy your first day ;)
Fucking Arthur. Oscar will always regret confessing to his best friend that he’d had a decade long crush on his older brother, but today in particular he is really feeling that burn of resentment. He can’t even feel good about it either, because as much as working under his best friend’s hot older brother is going to suck, it’s a really good job that Oscar simply never would have gotten without the connection. He sighs again.
He’d been silently praying in the lead up to this week that this was one of those workplaces where he didn’t really have much face to face time with his boss. But now, after having just finished his orientation, he’s come to the devastating realisation that this is the kind of workplace where he will be seeing a lot of his boss. Thank god he’s had so many years to practise his poker face. 
He fiddles with the one personal item he’s set up on his desk. It’s a photo of him, Logan, and Arthur, arms slung around each other and all in different states of uncontrollable laughter. It sits lopsided in a second hand frame that Oscar had picked up for cheap, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He tries not to think too hard about who had taken the photo.
He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat and his head snaps up. Oscar quickly suppresses the groan that threatens to fall from his lips when he sees who it is.
Charles is smiling down at him, pretty green eyes somehow twinkling in the ugly fluorescent lights of the office. He’s dressed impeccably in slacks and a button up shirt; undone enough to be borderline indecent in a professional setting but Oscar’s sure no one would ever complain. He’s leaning on the divider next to Oscar’s desk, an effortless poise to him that to this day Oscar can’t help be mesmerised by. 
“Hello, Oscar.” It comes out like a purr in his accent and Oscar swallows. Hard. 
“Hi, Charles.” Oscar tugs self consciously at the boring sweater he’d thrown over his button up to hide the creases he couldn’t seem to iron out this morning. Charles’ eyes track the movement. 
“Are you settling in okay?” And that’s just the worst of it isn’t it. Oscar thinks he’d be so much better equipped to handle this ridiculous infatuation of Charles wasn’t so… kind. 
He nods.
“Yeah, everyone seems really nice. I’m excited to get started.” It sounds like the sort of generic thing anyone would say to their new boss, but Oscar genuinely means it. Charles smiles like he knows this. 
“Good. I’m very glad to have you on board.” Charles is purring again and Oscar feels like he might be starting to sweat under his gaze. 
He tugs at his jumper again. Charles watches. 
“Cute jumper, Oscar.” The corner Charles’ mouth curls up into a smirk that’s on the edge of teasing. Oscar rolls his eyes.
“You don’t have to lie, Charles,” he mutters.
Charles laughs, a musical, tinkling sound that has Oscar curling his toes in his shoes. 
“No, no.” Charles waves his hand. “I do mean it.” His smile slides into something more genuine. “It brings out your eyes.” 
And there it is. The real reason Oscar suffers so much because of this stupid crush. Charles is a flirt. 
His cheeks warm– there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Something glints in Charles’ eye and Oscar thinks he might pass out from the humiliation of it all. 
“Thanks, Charles,” he manages to get out. He ducks his head and sinks down into his chair, hoping to become one with it. Thankfully, perceptive, kind Charles decides to give him a break. 
“I’ll let you settle in.” And then he squeezes Oscar’s shoulder (Oscar feels like he might actually die) and swans off towards his office. 
Head in his hands, Oscar comes to the conclusion that this might be the worst job of his life. On his desk his phone buzzes.
Has Charles been annoying yet?
Little does Arthur know.
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thelordofgifs · 12 days ago
Text
WIP Word Train
Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.
Tagged by @thescrapwitch, thank you! <3 This is very fun. My word is CRAB. I had to dig into some of the "for later" WIPs for this one, which actually gave me all sorts of brainworms.
C: the "Curvo-Maglor roleswap" AU
Curufin does not really believe in ghosts. He has spent too long, perhaps, seeing one in the mirror. But it does seem to him sometimes that Celegorm is not really gone — he is out on the hunt as he used to be, that is all, clearing the forest of Morgoth’s foul beasts, and he will come back with a wild boar slung over his shoulder for them all to feast on, whistling; his footsteps will sound in Amon Ereb’s little forge any moment now, and he will show up with ten knives in various states of bluntedness and expect Curufin to put them all right instantly. Curufin would not scold him, if he did so. He chides himself, sometimes, for indulging in the fantasy. There is no use now in dwelling on what-ifs: his father is dead, and Celebrimbor is lost, and now Celegorm too has been taken from him, and all that is left is to avenge him, and make sure he did not die in vain. He corners Maedhros in his rooms one evening, and says as much. “Our brothers are dead and all we did is sit here! Shall we not seek our vengeance?” Maedhros blinks at him, slowly, as though he is moving through some fluid more viscous than air.
R: The Unburied (the longfic I'm gonna finish!! someday)
“Russo,” Fingon said. It was his own nickname for Maedhros – he went by Nelyafinwë in court, Nelyo with his brothers, and Maitimo amongst the rest of their kin. Russandol was the name he used with friends and casual acquaintances – a public name which Fingon had turned into something private, a lover’s name. “Is that a yes?” Maedhros asked with a crooked smile. Fingon busied himself with peppering kisses on Maedhros’ upturned cheeks and exposed white throat, on the tip of his nose and on the delicate skin beneath his eyes. The blaze of him! One could almost feel the heat of his fëa through his skin, the eldest son of the Spirit of Fire. “Stop – stop!” Maedhros said breathlessly at last. “You will leave a mark.” Fingon brought his fingers to Maedhros’ collarbone to trace the kiss-bruises he had already left there. “Are you scared of people knowing you are mine?” he asked. “Shall you wear furs and high collars, and cover these up?” “Only leave my face unblemished,” said Maedhros; “or else let me return the favour,” and he put his hot mouth to the hollow of Fingon’s throat. Fingon laughed, for this was an old joke of theirs. Maedhros’ ivory skin betrayed his every blush when he glanced Fingon’s way, every bruise that Fingon’s over-eager fingers and lips might leave on his body; but Fingon’s skin was darker, and gave up his secrets more reluctantly. “You may try,” he said, turning his head a little to bury his face in Maedhros’ hair, “but you have never left a mark on me yet.”
A: the "Fingon survives the Nirnaeth" AU (a casualty of last year's Russingon week... oops)
After, when he had slipped from Fingon, Maedhros was yet so blissfully content that he might have drowsed for a time in his lover’s arms, for all that their absence would be sure to be noticed soon. But Fingon was stiffening beneath him. “Darling?” Maedhros murmured, his eyes half-closed. His awareness of Fingon was still a shining sunlit thing in the back of his mind, as though some part of them had remained coupled together even now. “What is it?” “What is it?” Fingon repeated, his voice shrill and panicked. “What is it?” Maedhros sat up and opened his eyes. “What do you mean?” Then he saw several things at once: firstly, that Fingon was clawing at the base of his throat, his face twisted in real distress; secondly, that his dark eyes were rimmed now with a thin line of gold, as though the Tree-light in them had somehow grown in strength; and thirdly, that he was staring at Maedhros with the same look of slow-dawning realisation.
B: The "Bragollach" WIP (which I am sadly unlikely to finish for Maedhros & Maglor week)
But Maglor’s skin, although reddened from the heat, bore no burn-marks. His tunic was soaked with black orc-blood, but he had not sustained any wounds of his own. Even his hair, which had long since come loose of its braid, did not seem singed. His eyes were bright and alert, even fearful as they met Maedhros’. “Káno,” said Maedhros, reaching up to touch his brother’s hand. In the stinking air it seemed suddenly that he could draw a clear breath for the first time in many days, as though some invisible vice around his chest was loosing — so it always was, in Maglor’s presence. “I could not hold,” said Maglor, and his voice was a gasping, ruined thing, like to rocks scraping against rocks on the cliffside. “It matters not,” said Maedhros, and just like that it was true. “Come here.” Slowly, stiffly, moving with some odd reluctance, Maglor dismounted. As his feet hit the ground with a thud — uncharacteristic, for Maglor was the most graceful rider Maedhros had ever laid eyes upon — a wince flashed across his face, so swiftly that Maedhros might have imagined it. On instinct he reached out to draw his brother close, just as Maglor’s knees buckled. Maedhros’ hand was wet. Why was it wet? He drew it away from Maglor’s front to find his fingers red.
tagging @eilinelsghost, @welcomingdisaster and @zealouswerewolfcollector! Your word is HOPE :)
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leiascully · 7 months ago
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“I wish you would write a fic where…” — Scully is pregnant with (or has already had) baby 2, and Diana is somehow not dead & she comes back into the XF…. Set in either IWTB era (Mulder’s depression) or post s11 (the fall out of CSM and Jackson etc)
1/2
Here you go!
Scully’s in the office looking at pictures of baby Joy on her phone when she hears the knock. It takes her a moment to look up. Joy’s only been in daycare a few weeks, and the only person who ever knocks is Skinner. Instead, when she looks up, there’s a tall woman with an elegant grey chignon and a chic suit with a visitor’s pass clipped to the lapel. Scully’s breath catches in her throat. But it’s not Teena Mulder - it doesn’t even really look like her. There’s just something about the aura she brings that carries that same scent of graceful suffering, like a vintage perfume that’s spoiled somehow.
“Diana,” she says evenly. “Or is it Agent Fowley?”
“Hello, Agent Scully.” Diana gestures to a chair. “May I sit?”
“Be my guest.” Scully sets her phone on the desk, face up. Diana would know she’s recording their conversation. They’ve both learned to keep track of the evidence.
Diana glances at her screen. “She’s a lovely child.”
“Thank you,” Scully says without flinching. “She’s our little miracle.”
“Yes,” Diana says, “somehow they do find their way to you, these miracles. But I suppose you deserve them, after all you’ve endured.”
“Is it Agent Fowley?” Scully presses.
Diana demurs, sweeping away the idea with one hand before it returns to clasp around her crossed knees. “Fox might have returned from the grave to his former employment, but I had no wish to rejoin the FBI’s ranks.”
Scully smiles faintly. “That was a long time ago.”
“Another lifetime,” Diana says. There’s a glint in her eyes, a tension around her lips. Scully doesn’t respond to the jab.
“How can I help you, Diana?” She picks up a pen. “Assistant Director Skinner assured me they’ve upgraded the fire mitigation system, by the way.”
Diana doesn’t react. She seems to be thinking. “I suppose I came to talk to you,” she says at last.
“To me?” Scully tilts her head. “I’m not sure exactly what you think we have to say to each other.” She stares at Diana for a long moment, sifting through the memories. It’s been so long. Another lifetime indeed.
She remembers her last encounter with Diana, the oblique contact, the fear, the rage, the genuine sorrow. “I do owe you a thank you. You’re the one who left the envelope with information about where they’d taken Mulder.”
Diana stirs, as if she’s come back from the depths of her own mind. “Whatever you think of me, Agent Scully, I never wanted either one of you to die.”
Scully smiles, just a little. “Likewise.”
“I believed in the mission,” Diana tells her. “I believed it would save us all. I knew I was working for men in over their heads, but I didn’t see another way.”
“I know,” Scully says, and she does. She does, now that the world didn’t end. Now that the black oil has receded and the shapeshifters have vanished, now that the supersoldier project has been decomissioned, she understands the things Diana did, and why. She will never understand the rest, but she has that.
“I’m sorry for my part in what they did to you. But I wouldn’t change the choices I made.” Diana nods toward Scully’s phone. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you got your miracle.”
“Thank you,” Scully says, and she means it.
They gaze at each other, blue eyes and brown. At last they have taken the true measure of each other, and neither is found wanting. The betrayals of their younger years are old scars now. There isn’t any pain there. It almost doesn’t matter who was right and who was wrong. They moved through different worlds. Of course their paths diverged. Scully, who has loved Mulder and lost him and fought her way back to him a hundred times, understands the urge to reach for him.
Beyond this moment, she knows they will never see eye to eye. She knows Diana knows it too. This is the peace soldiers only find in the middle of the battlefield, when the war is over.
“Thank you,” says Diana.
“For what?” Scully is startled.
“For standing up to the Syndicate, at great personal cost. If their mission was just, their methods were not. Spender’s least of all.”
“Jeffrey came back, you know,” Scully says.
“Yes. He always had too strong a sense of justice to stomach the work.” Diana leans forward just a little. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She doesn’t mean Jeffrey Spender.
“You’re welcome.” Scully’s voice is steady, somehow.
“I can’t say I was deceived,” Diana tells her. “I went into the work with my eyes open. But the world shifted. The plans changed. Whether I couldn’t keep up or I didn’t want to is irrelevant. I wasn’t given the choice.”
“You were a pawn to them,” Scully says.
Diana inclines her head with a economy of motion Scully can’t help but admire. It’s neither agreement nor disagreement, just an acknowledgment of Scully’s own truths. “Well. I’m not any longer.”
“Good,” Scully says.
Diana uncrosses her legs and stands up. “There’s no need to tell Fox I was here.”
“I assumed you came to see him.”
Diana tilts her head and smiles. “No, Agent Scully. My unfinished business was with you.”
They don’t shake hands. Scully watches Diana leave. She taps her phone to stop the recording and then cups her chin in her hand, staring into space. She wonders if Diana will be on the security footage. She wonders if anything has gone missing in the last hour or two. Maybe respect can look like paranoia. Maybe the past can’t be entirely overwritten, but the book can be closed. Maybe this is what peace feels like when a ghost is laid to rest.
Mulder comes in half an hour later and finds her still thinking. He sets a coffee down on the desk in front of her.
“Missing our pride and Joy?” he asks.
“Hmm?” Scully says. “Of course.” She comes back to herself and shuffles the papers on her desk.
“What were you up to all morning?” he asks, settling into a chair with the lazy grace he’s never lost.
“Oh, talking with an old friend,” she says, and it hews close enough to the truth.
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