#too much mental energy for what is just me getting thoughts out of my head

[heythereimbodie]

reminder that you can be a very competent grown-up and still need a safe space

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 What If....

You ask him to leave the uniform on? 🥵🥵🥵🥵

I am feral over this. FERAL. Literally chewing on my own arm because I need to calm down. Your prompts always get me going. I totally blame you for this. Now, I went with a little variety here. We've got Kyle in formal military dress, John coming home from deployment, Johnny returning on break for a quickie, and Simon playing out a pre discussed fantasy. Enjoy!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, CNC, breeding, restraints, welcome home sex, quickies, formal events, semi-public sex, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), sex in a car, dirty talk, brief knifeplay, light degradation

Word Count: 3.3k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John’s return is delayed.

He was supposed to come home to you a month ago. But it wasn’t him that notified you about his postponed reunion. Someone from SAS contacted you via the post. The envelope held a singular piece of paper. No apology. Just black ink on a white sheet with an official letterhead. John has always been good about making sure you know when he’ll return. It's something you constantly worry about.

While on a mission, you won't hear from him—this you know. But whenever he is able, John makes an effort to let you know when to expect him or if he's okay.

To not hear from him is odd, and it stirs up all sorts of emotions, pushing your brain toward any number of possibilities. Each scenario appears briefly before sliding into another. They worsen—and then you’re sick, stomach twisted into a tight knot.

That piece of paper is on the kitchen counter. Untouched—but not forgotten. It said yesterday. And yesterday, John did not return.

You’re chewing on your fingernails. Pacing. Stressing.

It's the familiar squeak of the doorknob from the front door that finally stalls your racing thoughts. All that mental energy becomes physical. You're sprinting, throwing yourself at John the moment he enters.

He chuckles—the sound is pleasant and soothing to your heart.

“Didn’t think you’d be home,” he says, drawing you close.

Your answer is to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, and seize a kiss from him that says so much. You need John to know how much you’ve missed him—how worried you’ve been.

His hands on your hips tighten, squeezing slightly as he melts under your kisses. Each one is desperate. Needy. You savor him like you’ll never know this again. John's grip on you is firm, and much stronger than you can resist. He draws you away from him—not enough to create a separation—but enough to talk.

“Slow down, love. Let me look at you.” His hands move to your face, cradling your cheeks. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," you reply. You pull him close again. "Need you." Just a murmur, hardly audible, but John hears it.

He does not resist. He gives in, accepting your love, answering every kiss and touch with one of his own. Hands roam, fingers cling, and yet you're not nearly close enough. You need him on his back with you atop him.

John breaks away, breathing heavy, lips slightly puffy from kissing you. "Bedroom."

You shake your head. "Right here,” you reply, going in for another kiss. “Uniform stays on.”

The middle of John's brow scrunches slightly in confusion, but your fingers are already looping in his belt buckles, guiding him into the living room. That brief moment of confusion morphs into a sultry smirk.

John allows you to guide, allows you to push him onto his back on the sofa. His hands never leave your body, they roam constantly even as you undo the front of his pants and shimmy them down to mid-thigh.

You have him in hand instantly, coaxing him to hardness quickly. The need for him is a driving force, positioning yourself above him, ready to impale yourself.

John's hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your center. "Your—fuck." The sound of your slickness greets him and John groans.

Placing your hands on his chest, John palms the base of his cock, lining it up. You don't slowly ease down. You drop, accepting every inch of him in one go. There is a brief flare of pain from the rapid intrusion, and then it's gone, replaced with the fullness of him inside you.

With your palms splayed wide, you're able to rock your hips, moving up and down his length in a steady movement that has both of you groaning.

"I missed you," he murmurs as you come back down on him. "Fuck—I missed you."

Your thighs start to burn with every bounce. John's fingers dig into your hips, dragging downward before ascending again. With the next roll of your hips, John meets you, thrusting up. It cuts a sharp gasp from your lips.

He grips harder, taking control. You cling to the front of his uniform, fisting the fabric as John brings you down just as he thrusts upward. It is not sweet. It is brutal and desperate. Each connection drags more pleasure out of you until your head falls back and you clench around him.

With a deep groan, John sits up, and effortlessly flips you over onto your back. Pinned beneath him, there is nowhere to go. All you can do is take what he gives.

John buries his face against your neck. "Love you so much."

You hook your heels behind his legs, urging him on. "Love you," you manage to gasp.

It is all sweat and heat. John's lips graze the line of your throat and then your chin. You turn toward him, the two of you meeting as he holds his body against yours, his release flooding your pussy.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle drapes his arm over your shoulder, tugging you against him, the noise of the function receding with every step. Usually when the two of you attend a formal function together, Kyle is in a suit, but this attendance was requested by Kyle's superior officer, Captain John Price.

Instead of a suit, Kyle wears his formal military dress. The uniform is freshly steamed and free of wrinkles. His shoes are polished to perfection. Like this, he's incredibly handsome. You've been admiring him all night, resisting the urge to touch him too much around people he works with on a regular basis.

"Can't wait to take this bloody thing off," sighs Kyle, lightly tugging on the neckline of his uniform.

You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring his warmth. "I think you look rather dashing."

"Dashing?" he laughs.

As the two of you enter the parking garage, you snag his hat, placing it on your head. Kyle's smile widens. He leans in for a kiss, greedily accepting what you offer him. Removing the car keys from his pocket, Kyle hits the button to unlock the vehicle. The SUV beeps, headlights coming on.

Kyle takes his hat back, holding it with one hand instead of putting it back on his head. He offers his mouth again and you close the distance.

"Can't wait to get that dress off you, love," he murmurs against your lips. “Been thinking about it all evening.”

You place your hand against his chest. "I think I'd like it if you leave the uniform on."

Kyle nearly chokes. "What?" he draws back slightly.

With a mischievous grin, you tug Kyle around the side of the SUV. The vehicle is in a corner spot, leaving the two of you tucked between it and a cement wall. There is no camera and no light. Both of you are hidden in shadow.

No one will notice the two of you unless they come looking.

You lean in slowly, offering your mouth. Kyle places his hand on the side of your throat, thumb slowly rubbing against the front of your neck. The kiss is honey-sweet, and tinted with seductive need. You seek another, and yet another until the two of you are gasping for air.

"Not here," murmurs Kyle, drawing back slightly.

Your hand slides downward, pausing at his belt. Kyle whispers your name, but there is no fight in it. If anything, it is lustful. Fingers toying with the belt, you kiss him again, loosening the buckle and then the front of his pants.

Reaching your hand inside, you find him hard and wanting.

"Someone will see," he groans, grabbing your wrist.

"Who will see us?" you reply softly. Kyle's gaze shifts outward to the parking garage.

"No one is around." You start to descend, opening his pants further.

Kyle's attention returns to you. His pupils expand as you take him in hand, painting your bottom lip with a pearly bead of cum. You present your glossy mouth to him, and Kyle brushes the pad of his thumb across it.

You lightly nip at that thumb, and then take him into your mouth. Kyle stifles his groan, but it comes out as a muted whimper. He gently cups the back of your head as you suck him down, hollowing your cheeks when you come back up.

This is just a tease. You want his resolve to slip.

Kyle doesn't break eye contact. He is completely focused on watching you. His dick twitches in your mouth, and Kyle grunts.

"Fuck, love. Come here."

With gentle tenderness, Kyle grasps the back of your neck, easing you off him. You extended your legs, leaning into him.

His voice is slightly husky. "I can't wait until we're home."

Kyle opens the rear passenger door and helps you up into the seat. You slide backward to the other end, Kyle following. With a hand on your throat, he pushes you onto your back. These next kisses are rough and possessive. Hungry. Claiming. You open for him, wanting to consume.

His free hand is gripping your dress, shoving it upward where it collects at your hips. Your tongue meets his the moment his fingers slip between skin and underwear. It is brief, and then he's drawing back only to bury his face between your legs.

Digging your heels into Kyle's back to stabilize yourself, you give in, moaning loudly as his tongue swirls a path up and down your sex. He teases just like you teased him. But it is short-lived.

Kyle is desperate for you. He finds your clit and stays put, tongue working quickly to send you over the edge. Your body shudders, a breathy groan escaping you as the orgasm hits. Still on your back, Kyle ascends, one hand pressed to the inside of your thigh while the other finds leverage against the car door just above your head. You lift your hips slightly, presenting your pussy to him.

He takes the hint, thrusting deep.

He does not go slowly. It is skin slapping against skin. It is all low groans and desperate fingers. His body weight keeps you pinned, and if anyone were to open door they'd have a clear view of his bare ass.

"Don't stop," you beg. "Please."

Kyle's answer is to seize your mouth, to force his air into your lungs, to firmly press his body to yours and swivel his hips, pelvis grinding against clit. Your hands fall on his ass, and then he's transformed. An animal. Rutting.

Surely, the car is shaking, but you hardly care. You only want him to finish. To give you every drop of his release.

You feel his muscles tighten under your hands, and then your bodies are sealed.

There is a small pause between then and the moment he kisses you, this time tenderly.

"So much for waiting," you tease.

Kyle’s exhalation is a pleased one. "Just wait until we get home."

John "Soap" MacTavish

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Johnny's smile is devilish. "Came to see you."

"Me?" you laugh. "You just saw me this morning."

"And it wasn't nearly enough," coos Johnny, grabbing hip and waist, tugging you against him. "Missed you the whole time. Couldn't stay away."

Before you can form a reply, Johnny is lifting you up and onto the kitchen counter. He pushes everything up and out of the way, revealing your pussy to him.

"Johnny!" you exclaim.

With one hand on your thigh, Johnny uses his other hand to remove his belt and undo the front of his pants.

"I came home to fuck my wife." You instantly feel your cheeks grow hot. With a sultry smile, Johnny leans in but doesn't close the distance. "Would you like that?"

You nod. "Yes," you reply, voice nearly a whisper. "But—"

"But what?" he asks. You gesture at him. "The uniform? That stays on, love."

Guiding you wider, Johnny circles your clit with the pad of his thumb. The touch is electric, making you shiver as he toys with your sensitivity.

"Look at that," he purrs. "Look how wet and ready you are for me."

You whimper as Johnny tests your pussy with a finger.

"I think this deserves something bigger. What do you think, love?" He inserts a second and you whimper again. "Use your words."

"I want you inside me."

"I am inside you," he teases, pumping both fingers.

You shake your head, gasping as his thumb toys with your clit. "Your dick, Johnny."

"That I can do." His fingers are gone instantly, replaced with the head of his cock. He holds himself just inside, inching slowly until you've taken him to the base. "We'll have to make this quick. Can't be late and disappoint Price."

Johnny lightly swivels his hips, and then he's holding you in place, thrusting steadily. He kisses your lips, then your cheek. Resting his forehead against your temple, Johnny boxes you in, using your pussy for himself.

"You take me so well," he says softly. "Watch. Want you to watch."

Your gaze shifts downward, locking on to where your bodies meet. Keeping one hand on the countertop to stabilize yourself, you bring the other between your legs, fingers lightly playing with your clit.

"That's it," purrs Johnny. "Come for me."

A brief swirl and you're gone, squeezing hard around Johnny. He fucks you through it, grunting as he increases his pace. With a moan that claws up his throat, Johnny seals your bodies together, and his warmth floods your pussy. He thrusts lightly and stills.

A beat of silence, and then you both burst out into laughter.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, shaking his head.

"You came all this way on a break just to have sex with me?" you laugh.

Johnny leans back, grinning sheepishly. He glances down at his watch, smile fading. "Shit."

He pulls out and steps back, fumbling with his pants.

"Are you going to be late?" you ask teasingly.

Johnny tightens his belt and then helps you off the counter. With a quick kiss to the cheek, he heads out the door.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Every light in the house is off. The blinds are closed and it's completely dark except in one particular room.

The deep red glow calls out to you like a siren song. You stride toward it, moving through the hall silently like a shadow. The bedroom door stands open, revealing the blood-tinged space. From your point of view, nothing is out of place. All is calm and as it should be.

But Simon is here somewhere. Lurking. Watching.

This is what you wanted after all. An idea you passed off to Simon with the hope that he'd indulge your fantasy. Clearly, he took it to heart.

Adrenaline spikes in your blood as your gaze focuses on the bed. Attached to each corner are wrist and ankle cuffs. To be immobile and bred at Simon's pleasure is all you asked for, and here it is.

As you step forward, a large gloved hand slides over the front of your throat, squeezing. Simon is right behind you, and you feel every inch of him. Without even having to look, you know Simon is in full tactical gear. Parts of it dig into your back.

The leather of his gloves squeak as his fingers adjust against your throat. With a little pressure, he tilts your head back and you meet his whiskey-brown eyes. It's all you can see of his face. The rest is shrouded behind a balaclava.

"Do as I say," he growls. "Or you'll make this harder on yourself."

His command sends a bolt of need straight to your clit. Already, you feel a growing slickness between your thighs.

"Answer me if you understand."

"I understand," you murmur.

Simon makes a pleased sound deep in his throat. His thumb rubs a gentle line back and forth over the same spot.

His head tilts, lips pressing against your ear through the balaclava. "Then be a good little slut and get on your back."

Using his leverage on your throat, Simon lightly shoves you toward the bed. This time you turn around, facing him completely for the first time. He's dressed in all black tactical gear. Every inch of him is covered except his eyes, and his large frame fills the doorway.

When you take a step back, he takes a step forward. The backs of your thighs hit the bed, and you push yourself up and on, reclining until you're nearly horizontal. Simon saunters, gaze predatory and observing. His gloved hands hover just above your legs, pausing there before he bends slightly, reaching for an ankle cuff.

Simon glances between it and you languidly. You're not sure what his intentions are, not until he grabs your ankle with his other hand and tugs hard. You yelp, surprised, and then you kick out, attempting but failing to free yourself as Simon attaches the cuff into place.

"You said you understood," he growls, as you sit up to swing on him.

Simon snatches your wrist right out of the air. He hops onto the bed, kneeling as he grabs one of the cuffs for your wrists. Still, you fight and still you fail as he latches it in place.

You're not immobile but you're more restrained than before, movement restricted enough that you can't fight back like you want to. Not that you want to escape.

With a fluidity that surprises, Simon removes a knife from his boot and hooks it under the hem of your shirt. A sharp tug and the fabric surrenders to the blade. Simon tears it further, removing the garment completely.

As you use your one free arm to lash out, Simon is already prepared, blocking the blow and forcing it back to the bed. He attaches the cuff and returns the knife to your clothes, splitting your pants and tossing the remains aside.

You're on your back, completely naked and cuffed to the bed.

Simon's hand wraps around your throat, the knife tip dangerously close to your face. "I was going to worship your pretty pussy," he murmurs. "But I think I'll just take what I want."

It's all a game—a scene. You want Simon to use you, to fuck you ceaselessly, to do whatever the fuck he wants because he can.

Simon flips the knife and imbeds it into the bed above your head. Slowly, he removes his belt, tossing it aside. When he opens the front of his pants and eases them down a fraction, you nearly groan at the sight of his hardness. Simon palms the base of his cock.

"I won't be gentle," he says, gloved fingers pressing against your pussy.

He rubs back and forth, easing a little more from your body before grabbing your hips and slamming home. There is a brief flare of pain from the intrusion and then nothing at all except excitement.

"Your body is mine," he growls as he fucks you. "And for the next twenty-four hours, I'm going to breed this pussy until I'm satisfied."

You are unable to move, unable to do much but take it. Simon is situated between your spread legs, and you have a clear view of his cock sliding in and out of you. If you want an orgasm, Simon will have to grant it. Begging for it won't get you anywhere. You need to be good, and then he'll reward you.

Simon grunts as he thrusts, pace increasing as he nears his end. Watching him is lovely. His groan is lust-drenched, his orgasm sending a little shudder through him that you feel in your core.

Simon's gaze shifts to between your legs where he slowly pulls out. "What a fucking sweet sight," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

His cum pools at your entrance, threatening to drip out. Soon you'll be overly full, a mess between your legs and on the bed.

Already Simon is stroking himself back to hardness. "Think that cunt of yours needs a bit more.

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[prettieinpink]

MY FAVOURITE PRODUCTIVITY HACKS, SYSTEMS & TOOLS

Disclaimer: I have no idea if these are actual practices with real names. Some hacks I knew of before and learnt, and some I’ve developed myself. 

SANDWICH METHOD. For me, It’s difficult to get into the flow of doing a difficult task. Instead of facing the task head-on, I start with something that's productive but doesn’t take too much mental or physical energy. For example, If I want to study, but I’m not in flow, I’ll just start by doing some Duolingo or Elevate, which prompts me enough to get started. Then after the difficult task, so that I don’t interrupt that productive flow, I’ll do another easy task like tidying up my room. 

5 MINUTES ONLY. If I’m desperate to not do a task at all, like I’m on my period, sick, or overall in a bad mood, I’ll tell myself, just five minutes of doing said task. 90% of the time I keep on going to complete that task. However, in that 10% when I don’t continue, at least I had 5 minutes of progress for that day, so it's not wasted at all. Plus, typically when I don’t follow through after the 5 minutes, it’s a sign that my body or mind is just not up to it today and forcing it will strain me. 

BIG THREE SYSTEM. If you usually have a long to-do list for the day, I recommend this system. In the big three system, you only have 3 tasks to do each day. These tasks are both urgent and important. If they are one or the other, or neither, I would cross it off and try to narrow it down to three each day. 

Having just three each day is less overwhelming, it’s easier to remember throughout the day which tasks you have to complete. 

MAJOR & MINOR SYSTEM. If you’re someone who just can’t narrow it down to just three, then this system might work better for you. So, each day you have 1-3 major tasks, and 1-3 minor tasks. Major tasks are both urgent and important, while minor tasks can be either or the other (but not neither). 

It helps to relieve the pressure of having big tasks only for the day ahead, as you have some tasks that are smaller and easier, hence minor. 

WANTS AND NEEDS. I haven’t used this system intensively yet, but I would use it if I were getting out of a rut or a slump. Make a list of 1-3 things that you need to do. I would make these tasks a bit more on the simpler side if I were using this system, but that’s just my preference. Then make a list of 1-3 things that you want to do.

Then once you’ve completed at least 1 task, you get to do something that you want for that day. I wouldn’t use this as a permanent system, but it's up to you. 

BRAINDUMPING. I don’t braindump at a specific time of the day, what I do instead is write whenever. I always have my phone close by or Macbook, so in my notion, I’ll write in my braindump section quickly and then put it away. 

You could carry a notepad, or write it down in your journal at the end of the day but I recommend recording ideas or thoughts instead of letting them float away. 

That’s it for the day! Hope you stay hydrated and safe, especially during the holidays.

[heartsfromia]

knight in shining armor — j. wonwoo

pairing: non-idol! wonwoo x f!reader

word count: 7,350

genre: fluff, angst, mild crack, college setting

warnings: cheating (not wonwoo tho our boy is sweet, it's reader's shitty ex), curse words, implicit violence (black eyes, cuts on lips mentioned)

author's notes: y'all pray that one day i have the energy to proofread my works ;_____; BRO I STG I WORKED ON THIS FOR OVER THREE MONTHS AND IDK HOW IT GOT SOOO LONG T___________T

“Hey, I’m planning on finishing my paper for International Law in Holly’s, come with me?”

With your hands intertwined with your boyfriend, Hanwoo, the two of you walked towards the parking lot by your university, just having finished a class together. You were hoping to spend some time together since Hanwoo had been preoccupied with the major association he’s a member in, as the collegial organization is holding its elections in the next week and he had been approached to help out as a committee member. Since the two of you have the same classes together, and the paper was due next Monday (it being a Thursday now), you thought you could get, at least the introduction down, while having some quality time in the 24 hour café with your boyfriend of six months.

“We’ll be there all night and you can distract me from my paper and I will do the same to you, and then we can down a ton of caffeine before passing out on the bean bags they have,” you tried to convince him, leaning into his side as you two approached his car. “And then we can go home and talk about how we should’ve finished our paper, plan another night in Holly’s and do it all over again!”

“Although that does sound tempting,” Hanwoo began, releasing your hand to reach for the car keys and unlocked the doors. He leaned down to be eye-level with you, as his hand reached for the door handle of the passenger seat, he uttered, “But, I have a meeting later tonight.” Pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he pulled your door open and stepped aside enter the car. A pout found its way to your lips, pulling your favorite move to get what you want, but he wasn’t budging and only nodded his head for you to climb in.

“What meeting?” You asked once he climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling the car out of the parking lot and on your way to your house to drop you off.

“The election, since Monday evening will be the debate between president and vice president candidates, so we need to discuss the topics of the debate, all the technical stuff tonight,” he explained, “we’re planning on pushing a lot we need done between today and tomorrow, so we can have the weekends free and do finishing touches on Monday.”

“Ahh, being Event Organizer really isn’t easy… so you’ll be busy today, and tomorrow?” He only nodded, briefly sending a small smile her direction. “Alright, then, I’ll just see if Wonwoo is free tonight.”

Hanwoo threw his head back, asking, “Isn’t Wonwoo a Computer Science major?”

“Yeah, but he’s really good at research so I think he can help.” Hanwoo didn’t bother asking more, turning the music up to let it fill the silence as you arrived by the driveway of your house. “Good luck on your paper, yeah? Don’t drink too much coffee.”

“No promises,” you responded before kissing his cheek and climbing out his car. You waved him off, watching as the car disappeared in the distance before turning to head inside and up to your room just left of the entryway. Tossing your bag on your chair, you flopped on to your bed, too mentally exhausted from the three lectures today to even change your clothes, feeling sleep begin to fog your head. You were on the edge of dreamland when you heard a clink, then a few seconds later another one, and then another one, and it seemed to be never ending before you pulled yourself out of your drowsiness and headed to your window—which just so happened to be adjacent to your next door neighbor, Wonwoo’s window.

“You seriously need to reconsider throwing rocks at my window before you shatter it, Wonwoo.” Your neighbor only chuckled, so you took this as an opportunity. “Hey, can you come with to Holly’s? I’m planning to stay overnight there.”

“What for?”

“I’m holding an executive meeting for us to discuss a ten-step plan to overthrow our government,” you grinned, and he pondered, tapping his chin lightly before shaking his head.

“I can’t overthrow the government yet, I have a quiz tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You could always count Wonwoo to go along with your poor attempts at sarcasm. “I have a paper to work on and I don’t want to be alone.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? What’s his name? Yohan?”

“So close! It’s Hanwoo,” you retorted with a deadpan as you reminded him of your boyfriend’s name. Wonwoo hasn’t been discreet in his distaste towards your boyfriend—it’s been six months since he asked you out, and it’s been six months of Wonwoo never remembering his name. “He has a meeting today since the upcoming election debate for my major’s organization.”

“Is he running or…?” Wonwoo asked, despite his lack of interest with the topic.

“No, he’s the EO, and will be occupied for the next couple of days.”

“Aah, so I’m a back-up to you? Got it.” You knew he was being sarcastic, it was a running joke between the two of you since splitting when choosing college majors—you had done the same when he asked you to accompany him to watch a movie he really wanted to see, only to find out he came to you because friends from his major were busy.

“Do you want to come with me or not?” You asked again, “you don’t need to if you don’t want to.”

“What time?” Wonwoo asked, not hesitating. “Eomma is making dinner tonight, and asked me to ask you to join in case your parents are working late.”

You turn briefly, listening in to your parent’s room across from yours and can hear the muffle conversation behind the walls. “I think they’re home, but knowing my dad, he won’t be cooking so I think all three of us can head over to your place for dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll tell Eomma,” Wonwoo informed, “so after dinner then, we can go? Did you ask your parents for permission to spend the night working on the assignment.”

Dread immediately washed over you, colour draining from your face and to your feet as you remembered you haven’t asked permission from your parents, especially your dad who isn’t fond of you working long hours for an assignment you could’ve finished from when it was assigned. Force habit, dad, it’s not my fault you raised a chronic procrastinator, you couldn’t help but think. An innocent chuckle left your lips as you pulled your signature puppy-dog eyes to Wonwoo, who—without you having to utter a single word—understood what you were doing.

He heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll ask them.”

“You are the best! Did you know that you’re the best person I’ve ever met? You’re absolutely awesome, smart and so, so, so kind, Wonwoo!” You blew a kiss in his direction, like how you watched Sunjae in Lovely Runner do so. “Love you!”

He waved your exaggerated gestures off, ignoring the heat forming in his cheeks and spreading to his ears, as he turned away, yelling back at you, “Yeah, yeah, just hurry up, I want to get this over with.”

“When do you think International Humanitarian Law is applicable?” You turned to Wonwoo after reading (re: skimming) a journal regarding the topic for your paper. Despite having only been studying the material for about twenty minutes, you could feel yourself losing it by the second. You didn’t hate International Law, but you always thought that the professor assigned too much reading, and is so strict about the entire paper itself—specifically using APA style, it has to only be footnotes (no in-line citations, despite that being the easiest in your opinion and you always preferred Chicago over any other reference style).

Oh, and the International Law professor is biased and lowkey a bitch.

So, being reluctant to work on an assignment given by your major’s most disliked professor wasn’t a priority even with the deadline closing in.

“During world conflicts?” You and Wonwoo stared at each other briefly, before you nodded, “That is true.” Wonwoo stifled a laugh. Seeing you look so drained and empty every single time you worked on an assignment, never failed to make him laugh. He enjoyed accompanying you, and despite the different majors and study programs you both have, he always tried to make sure he is more help than company. Even though you never really wanted to help you work on the assignment, knowing he has his own to deal with as a Computer Science major, but he’s well aware of your habits that even if the due date is Monday and you are working on it right now, you won’t completely finish it until Sunday, if not with Wonwoo’s aid.

“What’s the paper about?”

“The application of International Humanitarian Law in a specific study case,” you responded, tone flat. The more you talked about it, the more your soul was being sucked into the void. “I chose the Femicides in El Salvador.”

“Alright.” Was all Wonwoo said before he opened Google Scholar and began his own little research.

“Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“Y/N?” Cut off mid-sentence, you and Wonwoo turned to find Joy approaching your table, her hair tied and a lanyard around her neck, she must’ve just gotten back from campus.

“Joy? Hi, what are you doing here?” You smiled, internally sighing in relief because you had a reason to not look at the journal you were reading of femicide reports in the past decade.

“I just came back from an internal meeting with the EO’s for the upcoming debate,” Joy responded, noticing Wonwoo and waving at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working on Michelle’s paper,” you answered, exaggerating the slouch in your shoulders and pout in your lips. You then realized, sitting up straight, head cocked to the side with your brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re an EO for the debate?”

Joy pulled a chair to sit across from you, resting her arms on the table and nodded.

“So you were with Hanwoo?”

It was her turn to furrow her brows. “Your boyfriend?” You nodded, and she shook her head. “No I wasn’t.”

“What? But he told me he was having a meeting with the EO’s for the debate, maybe you didn’t see them?”

The crease between your friend’s brow only deepened. “Y/N, the EO’s are only four people, not including the PIC—I’ve also met them all, and Hanwoo isn’t a part of us.”

“That’s weird,” you muttered. Did your boyfriend lie?

“Maybe he got his position switched? Maybe he’s not an EO? You could try asking tomorrow,” Joy tried to reason, and you only nodded. Hanwoo had been telling you that he was an EO for the past couple of weeks, ever since the announcement of election was released for the major association. He explained to you in great detail what the position would entail, and well, frankly speaking, you trusted him. It tugged at your chest at the possibility he might’ve lied to you.

And Wonwoo can see it. The deep glare in your eyes as you stared at the article you were reading, but you weren’t actually reading the reports from representatives of the El Salvadoran government, instead you were reading into the situation with your boyfriend. Gears were turning in your head, making connections, coming up with excuses as to why he had chosen to lie to you about something as trifling as his position in a collegial committee. He could tell that no matter how many paragraphs you read, how many relative research articles you pulled up from the internet, nothing will allow you to progress in your paper until the nagging feeling of your fibbing boyfriend is at ease.

“Y/N, do you want to head back home, call it a night?” Wonwoo asked, before quickly raising his phone, “My brother just sent me a text, that he needs the car early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, yeah sure, let me just pay—”

“You pack up, I’ll pay for our food.”

You knew that he knew. Your lips pressed into a tight smile, “Thanks, Won.” He nodded, returning your smile before heading to the counter.

“Should we continue tomorrow night, then?” Joy asked. You nodded. “Sure,” then added, “depends though.”

On whether or not your boyfriend is lying.

“Wonwoo, do you have notes from Beom’s class? Last weeks’?” Seungcheol sat across from Wonwoo in the cafeteria, picking up a fry from Wonwoo’s plate and tossing it into his mouth. Wonwoo merely stared at his friend, unamused by his lack of manners, causing Seungcheol to chuckle.

“You know I do, Cheol, but why should I give it to you?” Wonwoo asked, his baritone voice holding a twinge of sarcasm, still upset by Seungcheol’s unwarranted act of property theft.

“Who says I want them?” Seungcheol turns away, flustered that Wonwoo caught on too quickly to his motive.

Wonwoo shrugs, and continues eating his lunch. “Alright then.”

“Can you email them to me?” An innocent, close-lipped smile etched across Seungcheol’s face, his dimple deepening as he clasped his hands together, pulling the same trick as Y/N usually does to get what they want.

“Stop that, I already get enough of puppy-eyes from Y/N,” grunted Wonwoo, rolling his eyes. “I’ll send them tonight, just send me a reminder.”

“Great, thanks, man.” Wonwoo expected him to leave, allowing for Wonwoo to spend the rest of his lunch alone before he heads to his next class, but Seungcheol stayed put, eyes on his phone. Not feeling like making any conversation, Wonwoo shrugged it off and continued eating. That is, until Seungcheol spoke up again, asking, “Hey, doesn’t Y/N have a boyfriend?”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the heat that rose at the back of his neck. “Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t it that Hanwoo guy?” Wonwoo nodded, but Seungcheol only looked even more perplexed. “They’re still going out?”

“Yeah…” Wonwoo confirmed, but the question only made his curiosity grow. Why did Seungcheol look so surprised? “Why?”

“It’s just… I mean, if you say they’re still together then it might not be- I must’ve made a mistake,” Seungcheol tried to change the subject but Wonwoo wasn’t going to let him do so.

“Tell me what you’re talking about or you won’t get Beom’s notes,” Wonwoo threatened, earning a look of genuine offense from Seungcheol, whom briefly rose a brow, a bit unconvinced. “I’m serious, Cheol.”

“Ass,” he muttered, before shaking his head, “Nah, it’s just… last night I saw a guy pick up my neighbor from across the courtyard, and I thought he looked a lot like Hanwoo.” Wonwoo’s eyebrow rose in suspicion, Seungcheol spotting it. “But if you say they’re still going out, then it must’ve been someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Any guy would be stupid to cheat on Y/N, especially since she’s your best friend and all.”

That only made him more confused. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s not like you’d let anyone hurt her, Won,” Seungcheol retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (it was), “and Hanwoo would be a huge dumbass if he even thought of cheating on her.”

Even though Seungcheol was right, Wonwoo wasn’t convinced—Hanwoo had a meeting last night when they were at Holly’s but Joy confirmed that he wasn’t even a part of the EO committee.

“Are you sure it wasn’t him?” He tried to make sure.

“I mean, it was dark and I wasn’t wearing my glasses so it was a bit blurry—all-in-all I would say 50%, either he was or he wasn’t,” Seungcheol explained, being no help to Wonwoo’s growing suspicion of your boyfriend.

“I’ve gotta go,” Wonwoo uttered, standing and packing his things, tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where are you go- class is that way!” Wonwoo paid no mind to his friend as he continued walking towards the parking lot. However, he could hear Seungcheol as he was almost out of earshot, “Y/N, your knight in shining armor is on his way.”

The corner of Wonwoo’s lips quirked up. “I’m not sending the notes then!”

“Oh, come on, man!”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Suspicions and of course, anger, only grew the more steps he took towards his car, knowing the destination was you. If what Seungcheol said is true and he did, in fact, see Hanwoo with another girl, then that means he’s openly seeing someone else behind your back.

His hand reached for his phone, sparing quick glances between the screen and where he was walking as his fingers swiped for your contact, immediately dialing. Pressing the phone to his ear, he let his other hand pull out his car keys and unlock the door just as the line started ringing.

You picked up after two rings.

“Wonwoo? What’s with the sudden phone call?”

“Where are you?” He waited in the front seat, keys dangling from the ignition. Your answer would decide whether he starts the car or not.

“In the cafeteria near the engineering majors, why?”

“Are you with Hanwoo?” You were taken aback by his question, not because of what he asked, but by the fact that he got your boyfriend’s name right.

“Yeah, I am… Why?”

His shoulders sunk with your confirmation. “Just… just checking, sorry to bother you guys.” You muttered something that he didn’t catch before he hung up, exhaling a heavy sigh. Maybe it was paranoia. He had known you since you both were in middle school, of course he was protective over you, like every friend out there, he never wants you to get hurt.

Little did he know that as you put down your phone, a grimace had taken over your features as you looked at Joy.

“What did Wonwoo ask?”

You wanted to tell her the truth, but even you couldn’t wrap your head around the obvious that was happening. Wonwoo thinks you’re with Hanwoo, but you’re not and Joy’s tip about your boyfriend never having been involved in the election committee—you knew, and if your best friend had asked and even remembered Hanwoo’s name, then that must mean he knows, too.

“If I was with you,” you answered before her suspicion grew. “He wanted to check if I was up for lunch with him, but I’m with you already.”

“Ah… I think it’s good that he isn’t here,” Joy prefaced, pulling her phone out. “Do you remember I use to be a student supervisor for our major’s freshman camp?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So, I follow most of the kids that were in my group, right? And I was scrolling through my Instagram stories when you were buying lunch, and then—“ Joy scrolled through the following list of her account, stopping her explanation as she found who she was looking for. “—I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

She slid her phone face-up to you, an Instagram story of a junior you didn’t know of was opened. The picture wasn’t revealing much of anything that seemed of significance to you, just a photo of her holding hands with a guy and it was posted in her Close Friends—most likely an attempt at soft-launching her boyfriend.

For a moment you were confused, then you spotted it—the username. It was Hanwoo's Instagram account. Dread grew at the back of your head as your brain couldn't grasp on to this fact, even exiting out of the story and searching for his username, hoping it was one letter off and your suspicions would be wrong, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and both the username in the girl’s post and his username were the same.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…” Joy uttered, in hopes to break the silence and tension that was building, but it was to no avail. Your throat tightened, and tears burned in your eyes, but you knew they weren’t from sadness, or heartbreak even, you were furious.

The audacity this piece of shit has to think he can cheat on me? You locked Joy’s phone, sliding it back to her before picking up your things and standing from the table.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes were filled with genuine concern, worried that you were a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up at the worse time.

You sent her a reassuring smile, and shrugged. “Where else? To plan my revenge on him, of course.”

Wonwoo thought he was hearing things. As he paused his game, he waited and listened for a moment before shrugging, chalking it off to probably a feature in the game he never noticed.

Clink!

That couldn’t have been a feature in the game, he was breaking wood—a clinking sound against glass doesn’t seem like something you’d hear while hitting a tree repeatedly in Minecraft.

He removed his earphones this time, waiting for the sound again, and when he did, he stood and walked to his window, finding you standing outside his window.

“Finally, oh my God!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “Do you know how many pebbles I had to look for to throw at your window?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows bunched together as he stared at you dumbfounded. “Why did you need to throw pebbles, we’re ground level. You could’ve just knocked.”

“That wouldn’t be so romantic, now would it?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he heaved a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to stop sneaking around like this, though, people are going to think you’re a burglar.”

“Whatever, Won,” you waved him off. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I—“ You paused. The fact that Hanwoo is actively cheating on you, probably even at this very moment, felt almost surreal to you, but ever since Joy showed you the picture, you’ve (to some extent) came to terms with it—there were signs after all, signs you chose to ignore or were so subtle, they flew over your head. However, coming to the realization that you’ve been cheated on felt easier than to utter it out loud—it felt more like a confirmation, that once the words were spoken out into the universe, it confirmed you were too blind in love to see the fact that he played you like a violin.

And it felt worse to admit to Wonwoo that his suspicions of your boyfr— ex-boyfriend being a douchebag were right.

“I need your help to trash Hanwoo’s car tonight, he’s at a friend’s house and left his car by his apartment.” Might as well hold off telling the truth until after you’ve released your anger.

Wonwoo could see you were holding something back, and by your proposition, making a guess as to why you did so, was easy.

“I’m not going to ask, but I will need you to explain later.” You subconsciously thanked him for not asking for a reason to your borderline act of vandalism. “Come around to the garage, I think I have a baseball bat from when I played little league.”

Ignoring the last bit of Wonwoo’s childhood anecdote, you watched as he left his room before taking the route to circle towards the front of his house where the garage was. You heard a lock turn and a bar slide before door opened, revealing Wonwoo, nodding his head to follow him.

“Do you, like, a Swiss Army knife or something sharp?”

“I think my dad has one his tool box, let me check,” he says, then points to shelf behind the car. “You can check there for the baseball bat.”

“Alright.”

Once the equipments were prepared—consisting of Wonwoo’s baseball ball, his dad’s Swiss Army knife, and your dad’s spray paint from one of his furniture restoration projects—you were all set to get back at Hanwoo. You both tossed them into the back of his car, climbing in and Wonwoo started up for Hanwoo’s apartment.

“And how do you know he left his car?” Wonwoo asked after three minutes of complete silence (AUX cord was broken and nothing that could fit a drive to vandalize your ex’s car was on the radio).

“Because I texted him earlier, asking if he could drive me to the store because there was a book I needed to get, and he explained to me that he was at a friend’s house and left his car,” you explained, your tone flat throughout as you mindlessly played with the zipper of your hoodie.

“And you’re sure he’s with friends?” He asked, his tone cautious, as he watched you freeze briefly.

You weren’t sure. Instead of admitting that, you chuckled, “He wouldn’t be with his girlfriend without a car.”

Despite your efforts at breaking the ice, Wonwoo wasn’t able to laugh at your joke, and only you could muster a dry chuckle before leaning back, turning to face the window.

You seemed to float throughout—as if watching yourself in a third person point of view, almost numb to the fact that you were on your way to ruin your ex’s car. It wasn’t that you were in denial that he is cheating on you, you refused to believe it was happening to you. You always felt that you were doing so much, showing him so much love, prioritizing him when he needed, never doubting that you felt the same way for you.

What did I do wrong? What about me wasn’t enough?

You hated those thoughts that began flooding your head. You hated those doubts. You hated that because of what he did, you’re blaming yourself—making it seem that you were the one that wasn’t doing enough.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s baritone voice pulled you out of your self-loathing. “We’re here.”

“Oh, you remembered the way,” you finally took note of him never asking you directions throughout the drive.

“Unfortunately.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his snide comment. Looking out to his side of the window, you see Hanwoo’s white range rover. You knew he cherished it—making sure to get the oil changed routinely, weekly car washes and having it waxed monthly. In retrospect, he probably loved the car more than he did you.

Maybe destroying he loved could make you feel less shitty.

“Let’s go—“ Before you could climb out, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?”

Again, the truth choked you. As you stared at Wonwoo, the concern laced all over his features, it felt the question should’ve triggered a flood gate to open, but alas, you persist. I need to not use poor humor as a coping mechanism. You cocked your head to the side, the corner of your lips lifted. “Why? I honestly thought you’d be the most excited of us to trash his car, Won?”

Of course, being your best friend since middle school, he saw right through your façade.

His hand moved from your wrist to clasp your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours. “Just promise you’ll talk to me, yeah?”

The bile rose, once again, urging you to cough out the truth. Knowing well enough you wouldn’t be able to utter anything without your words breaking, you nodded and sent a stiff smile.

As you stood near Hanwoo’s car, looking through the window of his vehicle, memories of the two of you seated side-by-side there came flooding in. How when you would go to a drive-thru for late night snack runs, the way you reached over the console with a fry and feeding it to him as his eyes focused on the road. When you’d pull over into a parking lot, your legs stretched over to rest over his lap as the two of you talked about everything and nothing at all, or when he would purposely make wrong turns just so you would spend more time with each other when he was supposed to drop you home.

Moments that you held so close to your heart, now worth nothing in a blink of an eye.

You squeezed your eyes shut, urging the tears to fall back and return to their sockets, inhaling a deep breath and pushing it out almost immediately as you flipped the knife to one of its sharpest options and pressing the point to the driver’s door. There’s no backing out now. You let the knife drag itself across the paint, a ragged line following your hand as you made your lap around his car.

Now, there really wasn’t going back now.

Before you could hold yourself back, your arm extended back and punctured one of the tyres—then one became two, and then three. Air spewing out of three of the tyres filled the tension around you, and you found yourself breathless. Breathless because you were angry. Breathless because you were hurt. The tears had escaped, creating warm trails down your cheeks.

“Give me the bat,” you urged, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.

“Y/N—“

“Wonwoo,” you pressed, “it’s either you give me the bat, or you go home—I’m going to do this whether you agree with it or not.”

Wonwoo shouldn’t even be against what you’re doing right now. He’s obviously on your side when it comes to this, Hanwoo deserves getting his car destroyed for hurting, manipulating and thinking he could go behind your back this way. However, the more logical and law-abiding side of him is reluctant—especially since you’ve already slashed his tyres and ruined the paintwork, so breaking the windows seemed to cross the line.

“If we get arrested, just tell them I did it, alright?” Wonwoo uttered, handing you the bat and taking the knife with him. You smiled for the first time tonight, a genuine smile that reached your eyes as he said that. He then added, “I’ll get the spray paint—you do your thing.”

And after a bashed in windshield, a very poorly written “FUCKING CHEATER” was spray painted on all sides of the car and on the hood. You and Wonwoo drove away from the scene of the crime, driving to a nearest convenient store where Wonwoo hopped out, buying instant ramen, drinks and snacks, deciding to make a last-minute picnic in his car because in his words: “Vandalism works up an appetite.”

“They didn’t have the carbonara one, so I got you cheese.” Wonwoo returned in less than ten minutes, the noodles already boiled, only needing the seasonings. You smiled at him, mumbling a thanks as you took the cup noodles from him, tearing the seasoning and busying yourself with stirring, and continuously stirring, your eyes dazed off at the curly noodles as they spun in a faint orange mix.

“Y/N, I’m sure your noodles are well stirred,” Wonwoo commented, hoping to divert your attention. The leather beneath him squeaked as he adjusted his position, leaning his back against the door as he folded his knee under him, fully facing you at this point.

He called, “Hey.”

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, and immediately, Wonwoo straightened up, his jaws clenched and shoulders tensed. Tear stricken cheeks, bloodshot eyes and everso present frown evident in between your eyebrows and downturned lips.

“Y/N…” Wonwoo took the noodles from your hands, placing it on the dashboard and pulling you by the wrists, engulfing you into his arms, then there goes the floodgates—the emotions you locked away throughout the evening, released in that very second your face was against his shoulder.

While you were bawling, grieving the relationship that reigned to be good to be true, Wonwoo was hatching up his own revenge plan on the piece of shit.

The incessant ringing of your phone pulled you out of your slumber, and you knew for a fact it wasn’t your alarm, because one; you snoozed that ten times already, and two; it wasn’t your usual Radar tone.

Sliding the screen with one eye open, you placed it by your ear without seeing who it was.

“Hello—“

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY CAR, Y/N?!”

Well that was one way of waking you up. You sat up, slowly, taking your time with adjusting your position while Hanwoo was screaming on the other line. Once you were sitting up, you glanced at the screen—the name you had changed last night once you got back home displayed as ‘IGNORE’, in hopes that you would do so when he called you. But then again, you thought he’d call you when you were conscious.

“—Y/N FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Rolling your eyes, you heaved a sigh before placing the phone back by your ear.

“And to what do I owe—“

“You were you even fucking listening to me?“ Hanwoo snapped.

“No.” Your answer was simple, honest, and obviously uninterested with whatever he wanted to say. Was the modification that you made to his beloved vehicle not enough of an announcement that you knew what he was up to all this time?

“I was asking what the hell did you to my car?”

“Can’t you tell?” you teased, “I gave it a makeover.”

“You ruined my paint job and popped my tyres, what kind of makeover is this?”

“The kind that fits a cheater like you.” Silence. Complete silence came from the other side and if you listened closely, you could hear the static along with his ragged breathing knowing well enough he was caught. “Cat got your tongue, dude?”

“Y/N…”

“Save the sob story, we’re not dating, I don’t see why you’re fucking calling me other than to cry about your stupid car—“

“How about the fact that your fucker of a dog punched me?” He interjected.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean, Y/N,” he scoffed, “it wasn’t enough to ruin my car, you had to send your dog to ruin my face too.”

It took you a second to realize he was talking about Wonwoo, which means that Wonwoo had punched his face.

Wonwoo punching someone in the face? That wasn’t something you had heard before, nor expected. The image itself was enough to cause you to burst out laughing, your phone falling from your hands, leaving Hanwoo confused and annoyed.

The idea that Wonwoo would go as far as to punch someone was such an unrealistic accusation Hanwoo had made, but nonetheless, had successfully made you laugh after a long night of crying yourself to sleep.

“Are you done?” Hanwoo asked once you placed the phone back to your ear after your laughing fit.

“Wasn’t enough for you to lie about your relationship all this time, now you want to lie and accuse Wonwoo of something he’d never do,” you defended, scoffing at his poor attempt.

“I’m not lying about this, Y/N!”

“So, you admit that you were lying about our relationship?” This time you interjected, wanting to hear him confirm it. It was mostly due to that nagging voice at the back of your head that still doubted what Joy had shown you, that the picture was friendly and not romantic.

It was so pathetic how even after everything, there was a sliver in you that hoped he would deny it.

“Y/N- let me explain—“ In other words: ‘I was, but you haven’t heard my reason’.

“Fuck off, Hanwoo, don’t ever call me again,” you warned, “and if I hear you spread bullshit about Wonwoo like you did just now, it’ll be more than just your car that I ruin. Bye.”

He managed to slip something before you got the chance to hang up. “What about my fucking eye, Y/N?”

“Why don’t you ask Gia to help you with that?” Grateful to have the last word, you hung up immediately, tossing your phone to the side. The phone call wasn’t closure, but it was enough to put those indenial thoughts to rest.

Wonwoo punched him? The thought wouldn’t leave your head as you got ready for the day. Trying to imagine Wonwoo walking up to Hanwoo and giving him a black eye wasn’t something you could see him doing. Besides that, when did Wonwoo get the time to punch Hanwoo if he did? He ended up driving you home around three in the morning, and it was past six now, meaning he had a three hour window.

Unless…

No, that would mean after dropping you off, he had stormed straight to wherever Hanwoo was just to punch him.

You had to make sure, even if it was hard to believe, you had to make sure Wonwoo was okay. As long as you’ve been friends, you’ve never seen him get into any physical altercations with anyone, and if it did happen, it might be possible that Hanwoo wouldn’t have let him walk away unscathed.

Your legs carried you to his house, to his front door and after greeting his parents, to his bedroom door. You knocked, listening in to hear rummaging noises, as if he was panicking.

“Wait, Eomma, I just finished showering—“ He called out from the other side, which you found odd because you knew him, he wouldn’t even be awake at this hour.

“Wonwoo, it’s me.”

The noise on the other side of the door paused for a moment, before Wonwoo called out. “Y/N?”

“Yes, can you open the door?” You asked, waiting for it to swing open but it didn’t.

“No, I’m- uh, I’m watching something, you don’t need to see it,” Wonwoo tried to think of an excuse but cursed at himself because why the hell did that come out instead? You, on the other hand, found his obvious panic hilarious, his excuse eliciting a chuckle.

“I know you met with Hanwoo,” you informed him, making sure to keep your voice down so his parents wouldn’t hear. “So, can you please open the door and let me check the damage?”

You waited a few minutes, hearing him toss a few things away, the noise causing your brows to furrow. The lock turned and the door swung enough for you to squeeze yourself in, knowing well enough that Wonwoo wasn’t about to reveal himself in fear his parents would see (they wouldn’t have, they were on the other side of the house, he was just paranoid). Once you were in, he pushed the door closed, his back against it and you could see what damage Hanwoo had done to your next door neighbour.

It wasn’t bad, admittedly you thought it’d be worse considering his lack of experience.

It was a scratch and bruising surrounding his left cheek, that was most caused by a ring Hanwoo was wearing, but other than that, and a tear in his lip, that was all he took.

“I honestly thought you’d look worse,” you thought out loud, Wonwoo’s brows furrowing at the comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shook your head, lightly laughing. “Nothing, do you have anything I can use to clean that?”

“Uh… I do, actually.” He dips to look on his bedside table. “Stopped by a drugstore after because I saw the blood.”

“And when did you get the time to pull it all off?”

“Well, after I dropped you off, I asked Seungcheol since he knows—“ Wonwoo stopped, realizing that this information wasn’t ever supposed to reach you. “Uhm… How did you know I was hurt?”

“Because a psychopath told me,” you informed, and his eyes darkened for a moment, rolling in annoyance.

“I told him to never bother you again,” he groaned, before his gaze softened as he turned to you. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

“He just called my phone, I’m alright,” you reassured him. Taking a step towards him, your fingers gently touched the wound on his cheek, inspecting it. You could see that he didn’t tend to it once it started bleeding, evidence of dried blood surrounding the wound and there wasn’t any antiseptic used either to ensure an infection didn’t happen.

While you were playing nurse, Wonwoo became very aware of the lack of space between your face and his, and he had to hold his breath. It only worsened when your eyes darted to his, the two of you holding eye contact for what he thought was an eternity.

“Let me clean it up for you, Won,” you uttered, breaking the silence and eventually the tension as you turned to walk into his ensuite bathroom. He followed after trying to calm his heartbeat, finding you on top of his sink, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic and tearing a bandaid from its package.

“Come here,” you urged. Wonwoo stood between your thighs, not wanting to meet your eyes, but you didn’t mind—almost finding him being flustered cute.

“Ow,” he winced when the antiseptic touched the wound after you had wiped it clean of the dried blood.

“It’s a small sting, stop being a baby,” you teased, earning a glare from him. “How come you only came out with this?”

“Got me at the last minute,” he answered.

“And how was he?” Your question was responded with an eyebrow raise instead, causing you to roll your eyes. “I don’t care about him, Won, I just want to know if it was worth it—if you, at least, are satisfied with this decision.”

The corner of his lips turned up, a smug look etched across his face as he answered, “It was. I hurt him enough to send the message and keep it with him for the next couple of weeks.”

“I never knew you could fight,” you said honestly.

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Y/N,” he mumbled, but because of your close proximity, you heard it loud and clear. Before you ask further, he spoke up, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“After this we can have breakfast, I think my mom made doenjang jjigae,” he informed. You smiled, nodding, “Sure.” You finished tending to his wound by plastering on the Kuromi bandaid, teasing him about it, to which he used the ‘there wasn’t anything else’ excuse.

He grabbed your elbow as you hopped off his sink, the action caused you to stumble out of balance instead of helping, made you bump closer to him, his free arm automatically holding your waist.

Cue the eye contact and pink-tinted cheeks, the move could’ve made you laugh as if it was straight out of a cheesy rom-com, but you were too occupied with trying to think that you couldn’t do so. I’m heartbroken, I’m vulnerable and haven’t been feeling loved for the past week, this is just a fluke, you tried to rationalize the thoughts and your racing heart, knowing well what could work to get out of this.

You tapped his chest, gently pushing him. “Go shower, Wonwoo, you reek.”

“Shut up, I do not,” he protested, laughing to cover his shaky voice. He then added, “Thanks, Y/N, although you didn’t have to do all this.”

“And let you get an infection?” You retorted.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, and without thinking he uttered, “A kiss would’ve sufficed.” It was too late for him to take back his words, noting your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape, his cheeks flushed when he realized what he had said. “Y/N, I wasn’t thinking—“

You pressed a kiss against cheek, beneath his bandage, shutting him completely. “Take it as a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

It took him a second to compose himself, grinning, “I am your knight in shining armor, after all.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “Are you riding a horse, my knight?”

“Yes, a pink horse,” he answered, smiling endearingly down at you.

You frowned at his choice of color, “But you hate pink?”

“And you love pink.”

“Gosh, Wonwoo,” you flushed red, taking a step away from him, finding his comment both cringey and touching at the same time—it was shocking you could feel those two simultaneously. “When did you get so cheesy?”

He merely shrugged, a faint smirk on his lips. “I told you there was a lot you don’t know about me.”

[lolxdswag123]

Just friends?

Percy Jackson x reader

Warnings: making out, I think that’s it tbh

——————————————————————————

My brain was fried. I had been working on homework and studying for hours all week. I had just about isolated myself in the library, and even managed to get on a first-name basis with the librarian.

I regretted my decision to take so many credits this semester, but I just got so excited when I got into New Rome University that I went a little overboard. The only person who was taking more classes than me was Annabeth- of course. She had spent some time with me in the library this week, but other than that I hadn't gotten any social interaction outside of my classes. I knew my best friend Percy was probably wondering where I was.

I submitted a paper that I didn't even have the energy to proofread. I just was hoping for the best at that point. Just as I clicked submit, I got a text notification on my computer. It was such a relief to be able to use normal technology at school. It was so hard in the mortal world to constantly explain why I couldn't have phone.

The text was from Percy.

Where have you been? Haven't seen you all week

I smiled, immediately pulling out my phone to text him back.

Library. So much work :(

I glanced over at the window, seeing that the sun had begun setting. I sighed, pulling out some of my notes to begin studying. I only got a few minutes in before my brain couldn’t take in any more, and I checked my phone once again. Percy had responded.

Got any free time tonight?

I rolled my eyes. ‘Only for you’ I thought, although I decided not to text it.

What do you have in mind?

After I sent that text, I tried my best to give my attention to my notes. Again, I failed. I wasn’t sure my brain could take in another ounce of information without giving up on me.

I slowly packed up my belongings, deciding it would be best for me to just go back to my dorm. When I exited the library, it was dark. I quickly walked back to my room. As soon as I got there, I dropped my backpack, changing into comfortable clothes. My phone buzzed again.

Want to come over?

I yawned, considering it, then deciding I didn’t have the energy to leave my dorm tonight.

Can you come here?

I hadn’t even finished putting my hair up when he responded.

On my way

I smiled, unlocking the door and turning on my tv before getting comfortable on my bed.

I was relieved to be seeing him again after my extremely long week. When we were growing up, we had gotten used to only seeing each other in the summer. At college however, we saw each other at least four times a week. Even when it’s doing small things— walking to class, going to the dining hall— we had really gotten used to eachother’s presence this year. It felt weird to go a week without seeing him.

I also was slightly relieved that it would just be the two of us tonight. I loved Annabeth so much, but I honestly didn’t have the social battery to interact with more than one person after my mental exhaustion. Plus, Annabeth would be doing homework all weekend anyways.

A few minutes after I’d gotten comfortable, I heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” I called.

A moment later, my best friend came walking through the door with a plastic bag and a cup carrier in his hand. I smiled, standing to close and lock the door behind him.

“Hey,” he said, setting the drinks on my desk.

“What’s this?” I asked, gesturing to the bag.

He shrugged, holding it up slightly, “I just assumed you’d be too busy to think about eating, so I picked up some take out for us.”

I beamed up at him, gratefully taking the bag and thanking him.

After being best friends with someone for almost ten years, you really get to learn how they work. Percy always was one that hit the nail on the head when it came to my habits. He was right, I probably would have forgotten about dinner if he hadn’t brought it.

He kicked his shoes off, jumping onto my bed and pointing to the drinks, “I also got some hot chocolate, I wasn’t sure if you wanted any, but I was stopping anyway.”

I nodded, smiling at him, “Thank you, Percy. You’re the best.”

We both sat on my bed, watching the new season of Outerbanks together as we ate our dinner. I tried my best to pay attention to the show, but I couldn’t stop myself from yawning and zoning out.

When we both finished our food, Percy stood, taking the trash from my bed and throwing it into my trash can. I yawned again.

“You okay? I can go if you want to just go to bed,” he said.

I shook my head, “I’m okay,” I said, patting the spot next to me, “stay a little.”

I knew that I needed sleep, but I missed his presence. It felt weird that this was the first time seeing him in days.

I layed down on my bed, getting comfortable and yawning again. Percy paused the show, taking his place next to me again and laying on his side to face me.

“My mom called today,” he said quietly.

“Yeah?” I said, “how is she doing?”

He chuckled, “she’s good, she said she’s happy you and Annabeth are here to ‘keep me in check’,” he said, using air quotes on the last bit.

I laughed, “seems like it’s the other way around right now, I wouldn’t have even remembered dinner if you didn’t bring it to me.”

He paused, rolling onto his back and fiddling with the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve. He didn’t say anything, and I could immediately tell that something was off.

“What’s up?” I said, still facing him. I found myself staring at his pretty face, and thinking about what Annabeth had been saying to me earlier that week. She always said that Percy and I should ‘stop pretending and just get together.’

It definitely wasn’t something that I could say I’ve never considered, I just couldn’t risk ruining the friendship. I’d seen several of my college friends lose their friends by taking it a step too far. I would never recover if I made things awkward between us.

He interrupted my thoughts, when he spoke again. “Paul and my mom asked about you.”

I smiled, moving slightly closer to him to get more comfortable, “Oh yeah? What did they say?”

He looked back down at his sleeve, fiddling with it again. He paused for another moment, before saying, “Just like— they keep asking about us…”

I hesitated, having an idea of what he meant, but I decided to push, “What do you mean?”

He sighed, tossing his arms down to his sides and staring back at the ceiling, “They like… make assumptions— just because we hangout so much.”

I nodded, deciding to question him further, “We hangout with Annabeth too most of the time.”

He glanced over at me, opening his mouth like he was about to say something, but turned back to the ceiling and began playing with his sleeve again.

I leaned forward to rest a hand on his arm, which he glanced at, before looking back at the ceiling.

I took a deep breath, realizing that he wasn’t going to speak up, so I did. “So they’re inquiring into the nature of our relationship?”

He snapped his head over to me, brows furrowing in confusion.

I laughed, “They are asking if we’re really just friends?”

He turned his head back to face the ceiling, “Ohhhh, yeah. Pretty much.”

I nodded, removing my hand from his arm and propping myself up slightly to get a better look at his face.

“And what did you say?” I asked.

He turned on his side, fully facing me now, and propped himself up on his arm so we were looking at eachother.

He breathed in, before saying, “I said I’m not really sure.”

I nodded, looking into his eyes and knowing where this conversation was leading. We’d been putting it off for years. It scared me. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but looking into his sea-green eyes I knew that I couldn’t keep pretending.

“You’re not really sure?” I asked, cocking my head slightly to the side.

“I mean…” he started, and I watched his eyes scan my face before continuing, “I don’t know. It felt weird not seeing you this week. Like… I missed you.”

I laughed at his awkwardness, but said, “I missed you too, Percy.”

I swore I could see his gaze flicker down to my lips for a millisecond, but I chose to ignore it. It made me feel tense and my heart started racing.

He sighed, nodding, but sounding confident when he said,“What should I say then, next time they ask?”

I could feel my face heat up. I can’t keep dodging this. I can’t avoid it forever.

“What do you want to say?” I asked, trying to stall so that I wouldn’t have to make any decisions.

He pursed his lips, but didn’t lose his confidence, “I think it’d be fair to say that we’re not really just friends. And that we should have had this conversation a while ago.”

I nodded. Of course he knew what I was thinking. How could he not? We know each other almost as well as we know ourselves.

I swallowed, and my voice came out as a whisper, “I think that’d be fair to say.”

He nodded, and his gaze flickered down to my lips again, only slightly more noticeably this time.

I cleared my throat, my heart racing, “So if not friends, then what?” I asked quietly.

He searched my face, and I could feel his breath now. I wasn’t sure when we had gotten so close, but we were really close.

It’s not that I had never kissed a guy, I had. They’d all just been with people I never really cared about. I knew somewhere deep down that I would never really like anyone else. He was always in the back of my mind. And now with his breath on my face, I was nervous. We’d never crossed the line in our friendship beyond the occasional cuddle, but even that was rare.

“What do you want us to be?” He flipped the question on me, and his lip quirked into a small grin.

I paused, not knowing what to say. I searched his face, eyes focusing on his lips for a second longer than they should’ve.

“Can I be honest?” I whispered, eyes falling to his lips again before meeting his eyes.

He nodded, his eyes falling to my lips too. I could hear his breath quicken as the distance between us seemed to shrink.

“I’ve known we should’ve had this conversation for a long time, but now that we’re having it I don’t really know what to say,” I said, and his gaze returned to my eyes, “I really care about you, Percy.”

He nodded, “I really care about you, too.”

We stared at eachother, neither of us knowing what to do. Neither of us had ever been in a real relationship before. It was new territory for both of us. But of course Percy always knows exactly what to say.

“Will you go out with me? Tomorrow night?” He asked, before quickly saying, “Unless you have too much work, I mean.”

I smiled, feeling a fluttery sensation in my stomach before saying, “I’d love to.”

He nodded, scooting closer to me, “Yeah?”

I nodded, biting my lip and smiling, “Yeah.”

Our faces were inches from each other now. I let my gaze fall to his lips, and his hand reached out to rest on my jaw.

Slowly, he finally leaned in. His lips touched mine, softly at first, like he was scared that if he moved too fast, he might break me. I let out a soft exhale through my mode, and he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. I could feel his hand slide from my jaw to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair.

We pulled away for a moment, both of us breathing heavy, and looking deeply into eachothers eyes. We both had massive grins painted on our face. Without a second thought, our lips were on eachothers again.

The room suddenly felt hot. My hands made their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my finger tips. All I can think is— why did we wait so long? I let my fingers curl in his shirt, bringing him closer, as the kiss quickly grows more urgent, more intense.

He held me tightly, like he was afraid I might slip away. I felt his hand slide down to my waist, pressing me against him. I let out a quiet gasp as he pulled me onto his lap, firmly guiding me until I straddled him. Nothing else mattered. Just him, our lips, the feeling of our bodies so close together after so many years.

His fingers hesitantly trailed up under my shirt, the touch sending shivers through me as he let his fingertips move along my bare skin. I could feel my breathing pick up, my hands sliding up to his shoulders. I found the courage to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. He pulled away, breaking the kiss just long enough to let me lift it over his head, revealing the warm skin beneath. My hands explored his chest, his shoulders, feeling every inch of him as he watched me with that soft, intense gaze, like he’s waiting for my every move.

He slowly pushed my shirt up, and I shakily lifted my arms, letting him slide it off. When it was off, we locked eyes, still smiling like idiots. His hands quickly found my waist again, his fingers splaying across my back as he pulled me close, his lips finding mine once more. I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine, the slight brush of his chest as I pressed myself against him, feeling his heart racing just as fast as mine.

He grabbed my hips, encouraging me to move back and forth. I gasped into the kiss, and began grinding with his grip. We moved together, the friction between us heavy, and I let out a quiet moan. I couldn’t believe we were really doing this. I felt him shiver at the sound, his breath catching as he presses his forehead to mine, pulling away from the kiss but not stopping his movements.

“Gods,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely more than a breath. “I’ve wanted us for so long.”

I could almost feel tears prickle in my eyes, as I breathlessly replied, “Me too.”

He leaned down, kissing my neck with an intensity that I never knew he was capable of. He nipped and kissed, only pausing to mumble, “Since we were 15.”

His confession sent a surge of warmth through me, my hands moving to explore his back, tracing the muscles there. The muscles that I was so familiar with. That I’d seen in battle countless times.

I felt him shudder, his grip on my waist tightening as he lifted his head from my neck, pressing me against him with a need that matched my own. I rolled my hips, feeling the heat build, and he let out a low, breathless groan, his fingers digging into my skin as he joined our lips together again.

Our kiss was electric, heavy, and full of everything we wanted to say and do to each other for years. I leaned into him, pressing my forehead to his, feeling the warmth of his skin. My eyes welled when he stopped moving our hips together, and I saw the soft, vulnerable smile that played at his lips as he whispered my name like a promise.

I whispered his back, feeling my heart fill with an affection that I’d been holding back all these years.

We stayed like that for a while, embracing each other with a few soft, stolen kisses every now and then. We whispered to each other about how happy we were, and he suggested a few dinner places for tomorrow night.

Eventually, we decided to lay down together, but when I finally got comfortable he sat up, saying it’s late and he should probably let me sleep.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, “Stay, dummy.”

He smiled brightly, and layed back down, embracing me again. We fell asleep like that, only to be woken up the next morning by a knock on my door. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, but I nudged Percy awake.

We looked at each other, wide eyed, and scrambled to find our shirts and fix our appearances.

The knock came again.

“Just a second!” I called out, combing through my hair with my fingers as Percy carefully straightened out my blankets. He gave me a thumbs up when it looked satisfactory.

I nodded, turning to open the door. There stood Annabeth, open notebook in hand, not looking up yet but saying, “Gods, what took you so long?”

I looked at Percy for help, before hesitantly saying, “Sorry, my room was a mess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking up suspiciously, when her eyes caught on Percy. She smirked, closing her book and looking between us.

She checked her watch with a knowing smirk, “Wow, Percy, what are you doing here so early?”

I could feel my face heat up, as Percy struggled to find his words.

“I- uhhh… yeah…” he so eloquently said.

Annabeth shook her head, smiling at us. “It’s about time. I’m going to the library, was just going to see if you wanted to come, but obviously you’re already occupied.” She said, turning and walking back down the hall.

I closed the door as she walked away, and Percy’s face was just as bright red as mine felt.

We stared at eachother for a moment, both of us unsure of what to do.

“Wanna get back in bed?” Percy asked, scratching the back of his neck.

I smiled, taking his hand and dragging him back up to my bed. “I’d love to.”

[kimstills]

i can see you

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?” content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader. word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao) notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333

aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.

he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.

and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.

but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.

no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.

it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.

you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.

it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.

the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.

the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.

while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.

aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.

he cleared his throat, “what?”

aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.

“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.

he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”

rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”

aaron’s brows furrowed.

“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”

aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—

his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.

from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.

he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”

you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.

michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”

although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.

before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”

another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”

ew.

this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.

aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.

you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.

the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.

“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.

you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.

a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.

“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.

aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.

“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.

you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.

“use your words, honey,”

the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.

you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”

aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.

not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.

aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.

“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.

he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”

“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.

he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”

“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”

his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”

“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”

aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.

he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.

you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.

aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.

you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.

his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.

he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.

aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.

as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.

a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.

“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.

you whimpered, “just for you,”

“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”

you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”

his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”

with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.

oh shit.

your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.

he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.

you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.

“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”

you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.

he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.

you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.

you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.

“still good, honey?”

you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.

smack!

aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”

you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”

“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.

humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.

“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”

he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.

you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”

he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.

you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.

the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.

“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”

you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.

from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.

his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.

you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.

“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”

you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.

“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”

you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.

“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.

“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.

you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.

you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.

“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”

it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.

the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.

you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”

he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”

that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.

you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.

he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.

“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.

you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”

he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”

your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.

he pinched your nipple.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (maknae line)

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a lot more angst and suggestive themes!!

⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: toxic relationship dynamics (not all of them)

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: hyung line here!! hope you enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs! <3

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

Another jealous one. Honestly, in his case, you’re both jealous and it’s justified.

You guys go back and forth a lot. One minute you want him, the next you don’t and that really messes with Jisung’s head on a daily basis.

The line between friendship and something more is blurred here since you’ve done numerous things that have crossed it multiple times but unfortunately, neither of you knows how to handle that.

You: did you get home safe?

As expected, his reply came only a minute later since he was always glued to his phone.

Ji <3: yeah bin dropped me off

You: that’s good

You: did you have fun at the party? with that girl that was all over you?

You couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you hit send, suddenly overtaken by this indescribable feeling of anxiety. You could picture the reaction that simple question would get out of Jisung, the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeasure on his face clear as day in your mind.

Ji <3: y/n what the fuck

The three dots that indicated he was typing kept appearing and disappearing, almost like he couldn’t decide on a response, as taken aback as you thought he’d be. That went on for a few moments more before stopping altogether and next thing you knew, your phone lit up with an upcoming call. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for another argument before sliding your finger on the screen to answer.

“What nonsense is your pretty little mouth sprouting right now, Y/n?” Came his slightly groggy voice, visibly exhausted after the long night he had had partying. No ‘hello’, no ‘baby’, even if he seemed calmer than you expected, Jisung was obviously aggravated by your behavior.

Moving the phone from one ear to the other, you tried to ease some of your anxiety by sitting down on the bed. “Nonsense? Jisung, you do know I received pictures of you and this random girl from three of my friends, right?”

Jisung let out a strained laugh, one that conveyed all of his anger. “What is this now? Did you stoop so low as to put your friends to spy on me when you’re not here?”

“Are you hearing yourself?” your voice got louder as all of your muscles grew tense. “I just asked you a fucking question, nobody was spying on you!”

You heard him exhale loudly on the other end, presumably rolling his eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to speak to people of the opposite gender now?”

A sigh escaped you at that, rolling your shoulders before letting yourself fall back against the many pillows, frowning.

“You know that’s not what I asked, Ji – “

“Oh, I know.” He cut you off, the argument giving him more energy. “You were just wondering if we fucked.”

With wide eyes, you sat up trying to defend yourself but his velvety voice interrupted once again.

“Don’t worry, you’re the only one I fuck at parties. The only one I fuck, in general.” Even if these words were meant to reassure you, the tone of his voice did anything but that. “Any more questions or jealousy fueled craziness?”

You scoffed, your nerves slowly morphing into anger that threatened to bubble to the surface any second. The audacity to call you crazy and be bothered by your behavior when he usually lost his goddamn mind if a guy as much as breathed in your direction, was wild. This thing you and Jisung had wasn’t healthy, you could see it, and everyone in a 100-mile radius could see it. But the feelings that blossomed along the way felt too real, and intense for either of you to just call it quits, no matter how toxic your current dynamic was. Most of the time, you brought out the worst in each other, but you also felt like your best couldn’t even exist without him.

With another sigh, the man tried to redeem himself once he realized he might’ve taken it a bit too far, voice barely above a whisper as he softened up.

“I’ve been chasing after you to make you my girlfriend for months now, baby. Do you really believe I’d do something like that to us?”

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

No matter your relationship status, Felix treats you like you’re the most precious person in the world. No surprises here.

He’s so gentle and loving, the sight of you never fails to put a smile on his face. Wants to be near you all the time, always invading your personal space and clinging to you any chance he gets.

Hugs, lingering touches and not so innocent kisses. There’s a very strong longing for the other here.

Laughter could be heard as you and Felix were playfighting on the couch, skilled fingers tickling every spot you knew would make the other lose their mind. One of the perks of being such good friends was having easy access to each other’s weaknesses, making the tickle war fair on both fronts. Though you prided yourself on having many aces under your sleeve, Felix countered them easily each and every time.

“Just – “ Your sentence was cut off by another fit of laughter as Felix continued his attack, not even giving you the chance to speak. “Admit you cheated! You’re a cheater Lee Felix! I would have won that race fair and square if you wouldn’t have bombed me right at the finish line.”

Felix only laughed in response, not admitting anything as he continued to tickle your sides. His innocent mask always fooled you into forgetting that to his core, he was a notorious cheater who loved tricking others.

“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser.” He grinned, gently nudging your side to have you fall on the couch. Briefly stopping his tickle assault, he then moved to hover over you, smile turning into a smug, a little too arrogant, smirk.

The air shifted as he got even closer, one hand moving upwards your body until it reached your face. Your eyes met and his smirk dropped, not once looking away while he stopped at your jaw, his thumb sticking out to softly run over your lower lip. The gesture was so intimate and familiar as he never missed an opportunity to be affectionate, yet it still caused your heart to flutter and breath hitch in your throat momentarily. He always looked at you with eyes full of love and adoration and each time, you were willing to give him everything he desired and more.

Felix hummed, his already deep voice dropping even lower while he continued to maintain eye contact. “Who knew you took mario kart so seriously?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. His touch burned in the most pleasant way, leaving behind blooming flowers as strange as that sounded. That’s how being with Felix felt too. You felt love, passion, lust, comfort, all wrapped up in the pretty package that was him. Being with Felix felt like home.

That’s why, you took advantage of him getting lost in what he was doing to you before suddenly setting your hands on his shoulders in hopes of overpowering him, pushing his body back so you could be the one on top. With each knee on either side, you straddled him before leaning down and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. If Felix was surprised by the turn of events, he didn’t show it, hands finding your hips and resting there while gently caressing the skin.

It felt like fireworks going off on New Year’s when you kissed him, lips fitting together like they were made for each other. The plushness of his lips along with the taste of his tongue, of him – they all drove you insane.

Lee Felix might have been a filthy cheater when it came to any type of game, willing to deceive everyone just to win. But when it came to your relationship – whatever that was – you knew he would never be anything other than truthful.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

He’s the sweetest when with you. No joke, the others usually complain about how you get special treatment from him because Seugmin is never that nice to them.

Has moments when he gets so gentle and lovey-dovey but as soon as someone points it out, he playfully pushes you away with a bashful smile, cheeks reddening by the second.

Can be a bit inconsiderate of your feelings sometimes.

The room was silent save for the tv that was quietly running in the background, the action movie long forgotten by Seungmin as you captivated all of his attention. His eyes were glued to your sleeping form in his lap, the pillow under your head along with the blanket on top ensuring you were most comfortable. One of his hands would sometimes reach out to fix the blanket while the other would soothe you back to sleep by caressing your head, leaning down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear if some of the guys got too loud. It was very peaceful for him, a serenity he didn’t usually get in his everyday life that only came along with you.

You were special to him, his feelings for you obvious to everyone around except for the person that mattered most. Because of that, he was usually reluctant to act on them but that was starting to get harder and harder each day, especially when you did things like right now. You were the picture of peace, away in dreamland while Seungmin was the complete opposite, a storm picking up inside of his mind.

He was confused. His gaze was filled with nothing but fondness as he once again looked down at you, happiness bubbling up inside of him and threatening to overflow to the surface any second. Yet as he kept staring, he could feel little knives puncturing his poor heart at the reminder that you were nothing more than friends, what you had purely platonic.

“Guys, look at Seungmin being a lovesick puppy.”

Jeongin’s voice came from his right and he immediately turned to the youngest with a glare, one that didn’t seem to do anything as his smile only grew in response. Shaking his head, Seungmin rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back to you, his hand now stroking your soft hair.

“Shh, Innie, don’t disturb our couple.” Hyunjin chimed in with a smirk of his own, quick reflexes helping him dodge the pillow Seungmin threw right at his face. Chan only chuckled under his breath from his place on the other sofa while Minho didn’t even glance up from his phone, absorbed in what was presumably an argument with his partner.

“Will you guys be quiet? Y/n’s sleeping.” His voice remained low yet the hostility in it was clear as day as he turned to look at his two troublemaker friends, glaring. He wasn’t in the mood for any teasing it seemed. “And stop calling us a couple. We aren’t together and we’ll never be so knock it off and let me enjoy the movie.”

The men stopped after that, not wanting to push their luck as they knew how scary Seungmin got when angry. But unknowing to them, you heard the whole thing, your heart falling all the way down to your stomach at his painful, careless words.

What was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon, ended up with you getting your heart broken by none other than Kim Seungmin himself, the guy you’ve been in love with since what felt like two lifetimes ago.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

Did someone say childhood friends to lovers? Because I did.

You’re very comfortable around each other, knowing all of the other’s secrets and defining life events so when your relationship started to shift, you were none the wiser.

Has always loved you in some way, just isn’t aware of the fact that he’s actually in love with you.

“And you won’t believe what she said next!”

He chuckled, fox eyes following your every move as you continued to pace around in his room. “What did she say?”

Turning to him, you made a face before starting to mock one of your girlfriends. “Well Y/n, maybe if you got a boyfriend, you would understand why we can’t always bend over backwards for you!”

Jeongin gasped, hands moving up to his mouth pretending to be flabbergasted by what you just said, completely entertained by your antics. Being best friends for as long as you two have been, there was nothing unusual with you coming over to catch him up on the latest drama that was happening in your friend group. It was more or less a weekly tradition at this point.

“Can you believe that? She was blaming me for the fact that she was a shitty friend!”

He nodded, agreeing with your every word. “And not only that, but she was also boyfriend shaming you!”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Do you see the type of people I have to deal with now that you’re not here?”

Those last words made Jeongin’s shoulders fall as it all dawned on him; you were right – he was barely here nowadays, his busy schedule keeping him away from you and all he’s known for the majority of his life. He missed it, going out and goofing around with you and his school friends, having no real responsibilities other than doing some random homework and picking the place you’d hang out at after classes.

He missed you. So much that it physically hurts sometimes.

“Jeongin?”

At the sound of your sweet voice calling his name, he snapped out of it, eyes focusing on your form in front of him once again. Without a word, he then beckoned you closer with a finger and once you were in reach, he pulled you into his arms, a laugh escaping him as you gasped in surprise. Jeongin didn’t usually initiate physical contact so being pulled into an embrace like that, so out of the blue was really confusing for you. Nevertheless, your arms went around his neck while you melted into his hold, his own going around your waist innocently as you were now standing in between his legs.

“How about we make this girl eat her words, hm?” he smiled, looking up at you from his seat on the bed, chin resting just above your stomach.

Raising an eyebrow, your hands moved to comb through his dark locks. “How?”

It seemed that’s what he was waiting for as his smile turned into a smirk, eyes full of mischief at the plan he was silently cooking up.

“Let me be your boyfriend, your trophy man if you will.” Seeing the way your eyes widened and mouth dropped open, he squeezed your sides, shushing you. “I’m not done. I can pretend to be your boyfriend when she’s around, showering you with affection until she turns green with envy and realizes what a shitty friend she’s been. Or, until you drop her.”

Your mouth closed and he could see you contemplate his words, your lips pursed into a small pout. You looked kind of adorable from up close, not that he’d ever admit it.

With a nod, you agreed, your smile returning and lighting up your face for the first time in the hour you’ve been at his house.

“Alright, let’s do this!”

And then, next thing you knew, Jeongin stood up and suddenly, his lips were on yours.

tagging: @captainchrisstan

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[natromi]

Insomniac Nights

Prompt: “I can't sleep, do you mind a cuddle?“

Wanda Maximoff being unable to sleep because of her nightmares, decides to choose you out of everyone for a cuddle. You think she's joking, why would she choose you? She thinks you're cute for being so naive on her growing feelings for you.

Warnings: None because this is pure fluff! Maybe like a little bit of a possessive mindset at the end but it's vague methinks.

Word Count: 390, short one to start with.

Wanda let out a sigh as she rolled from one side of her bed to the other, her head on her hands as she contemplated fighting a god for her lack of sleep. She could very well fight a god or two if she wished, maybe she would choose to fight Morpheus if he so much as appeared on her line of sight. Alas, she didn't have the energy or the mental capacity to handle a fight, let alone with the dream man.

And so she sat down, eyes on the colourless wall as she got lost in her mind for a while. She thought about how unlucky she was to get nightmares, while you were sleeping quite peacefully next door. Maybe she envied your ability to sleep so much and so well, maybe she envied that you cuddled your pillow, and not her.

As thoughts swirled around her mind, she thought of what she wanted to do. Either she could suffer by herself and try to go back to sleep, or she could ask you, her best friend, and most oblivious person in the multiverse, to cuddle her. Because obviously friends cuddled all the time!

She made up her mind after a couple minutes (which felt like hours), standing up and walking quietly to your room. Choosing to open the door quietly, as to not wake you up, she found you reading a book. A surprised look on her face as she expected you to have been sleeping by now.

Too surprised to notice your stare on hers, she broke into a soft, shy smile. The darkness hiding her flushed cheeks, your silent motion for her to walk in allowed her to close the door slowly, walking over to you. There was a silent understanding of what she wanted, and you were perfectly okay in this thought to be platonic move.

You enveloped her in your arms, a soft sigh leaving Wanda's lips as she found comfort in your body heat, the way you smelled, and your tight hold as you went back to reading. She found these moments incredibly peaceful, that she often thought about how she could ever deserve you, her most prized possession.

But you didn't know that yet, you didn't need to. You would understand soon enough that she was the only one for you.

This is my first oneshot that I publish!! I hope you guys enjoy it. Feel free to repost, send a comment or just like this. It'll mean so much to me to know that it's being liked. (:

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader

The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.1k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.

No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.

He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.

Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.

He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.

The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.

When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.

“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.

“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.

Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”

“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.

“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.

The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.

“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”

“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”

Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”

“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.

Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”

“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.

Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…

“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.

“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”

Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.

You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…

Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.

You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.

The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.

“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”

“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”

“Me, too, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”

“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.

Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.

“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”

You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”

Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”

Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.

“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”

A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”

“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”

“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.

“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.

Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”

“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.

“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.

Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”

His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.

After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.

At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.

“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.

“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”

You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.

“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.

You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.

Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.

“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.

“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.

“I’m ready!”

Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”

“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.

The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.

“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”

“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.

“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.

“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”

“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.

Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.

“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.

“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.

“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”

“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”

You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”

Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.

“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.

“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”

“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”

Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.

“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.

Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.

“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”

How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.

Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.

TBC

[1d1195]

Hummingbirds Extra I

Read Hummingbirds here | ~2.8k words

From me: Hope you like it :) it's very disjointed on purpose. Thank you to my 😺-anon for some suggestions on little looks into their lives 💕

Warnings: mostly fluff, but this Harry's got some stuff he's working through so angst is a good warning as well.

Summary: Harry had resigned himself to the fact that he might never be happy. He didn't know she could make feel so good to forget about all that heartache.

There was a snowman on their front lawn.

When Harry was in therapy, he imagined about a hundred lovely little things like this. Dr. Hendren said it was okay to think about them. It was good to think he deserved lovely things. But to know that she was behind the new little snow decoration presented him with the feeling of joy that he couldn’t possibly have imagined all those years ago.

His throat felt tight with emotion. Harry wasn’t one for crying. He was angry all the time for so very long. Crying seemed weird and a type of vulnerable he wasn’t fully prepared to deal with nor equipped to handle.

All because of a snowman.

Pushing the door open, Harry was greeted with delicious smells coming from the kitchen. “Hi, Harry!” She chirped. Harry heard her footsteps practically bounding down the short hall between the kitchen and the front door. Her gorgeous smile was nearly blinding. Harry was overwhelmed by how beautiful she was simply because she was happy.

She was there in their house.

He grinned in response, dropped his bag next to her shoes she left by the door for easy slipping into before she left the house. All while she continued forward. Normally Harry was home before she was but today was special. Therefore, the greeting was special, out of the ordinary but by far one of his favorites.

Another thing Harry didn’t think he could have imagined five years ago if he tried. Her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. He squeezed her tight, burying his face into her neck inhaling her sweet-smelling hair that got caught between. “Hi kitten,” he murmured quietly into her skin.

“I missed you,” she sighed like he had been gone for weeks and not hours.

It was music to his ears. The euphoria he felt was unbelievable. It was like light was warming him from the inside out. His whole body felt airy. The world seemed brighter. “Missed you too, baby,” he pressed his lips to her temple and let them linger there. “What smells s’good?”

“I made stuff for tacos since it’s Tuesday,” she pulled from him, dropping her feet to the floor. She released him except she kept hold of his hand as she tugged him back toward the kitchen. “I was going to see if you needed a margarita or not,” she squeezed his fingers.

“No, kitten. I had a good day,” he chuckled. “S’perfect now that m’home. You are...” he shook his head smirking in half-disbelief that she was real. “...Amazing. Smells delicious.” It was winter break at her school, so she got to spend the day relaxing. For which, Harry was so grateful. She spent so much time and energy on her students because of course she did. She was perfect in every way. In his humble yet perhaps biased opinion, no one deserved a break more than she did. She worked so hard and did her best for every student on her caseload. “Did y’have a good day off?” She stopped in front of the island looking at the layout of food in front of her. Mentally running through a checklist to make sure everything was in place for the perfect taco night.

“Yes, I made a snowman because I went to get the mail and it was just like the right amount of crunchy snow, you know?”

He didn’t, but that didn’t matter. He nodded and smiled. “S’very cute.”

She grinned sweetly. Like he told her she was beautiful. Which she was but he didn’t say it and he thought she was adorable. He followed her around the island and placed his arm around her waist, trapping her between him and the counter. He kissed her temple. She turned slightly to speak again. “Harry, I don’t think I thank you enough for this beautiful home and this lovely life we have,” she reached out to cup his face, ran her thumb along his cheek. “It took you a lot of work,” she reminded him. “That’s very special.”

“God, kitten,” he shook his head. “Y’never have t’thank me,” he smiled, releasing the counter and mirrored her hand position and dipped his head so he could meet her lips. She tasted like sunshine and hope. Her mouth was so soft and he loved her so much he couldn’t think of anything else.

She grinned around his lips and kissed him back. “Tacos, baby,” she whispered.

“We can reheat them,” he murmured against her lips and pushed her back toward the living room because the bedroom was simply too far for what he needed to do right then.

*

The drive home was tense with bitter silence. Harry felt sick to his stomach. It was all his own doing. As he always he had, he kept a lot of his frustration bottled up—even the kind that was done by his own hand. He didn’t know that it was going to be brought up at the work party.

“Kitten.”

“Harry, I’m not in the mood right now to discuss it,” she grumbled.

He felt shattered. All those feelings of insecurity and doubt filled his bloodstream. It was a miracle he could still drive when he seriously thought he was dying slowly from the inside out. His skin felt tingly. His heart was pounding. The kind of worried beating that occurred right after he had to dodge a car in traffic through a dicey maneuver that left his hands sweaty. His limbs shaking even though he was otherwise fine.

The air felt like something bad was going to happen. It was terrifying. “Why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid,” she snapped.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to what? Keep it from me that you got a promotion? That your entire division is moving?”

“I’m not taking—”

“Harry, what the fuck? We’re supposed to be a team.”

He swallowed hard trying to keep calm. He was angry with himself. The kind of anger he felt back when they were in college, and he wouldn’t tell her big important things just like this. The kind of frustration that she just turned away from and let him simmer because he was too young and stupid to let her in.

“I’m sorry.” And he was. He was so apologetic he felt like he didn’t deserve to feel another emotion as long as he lived because he upset her. He wasn’t young anymore. He wasn’t supposed to be bottling up his emotions and frustrations. Especially not around the girl of all his dreams, the love of his life, his reason for getting better.

“Sorry?” She repeated. “You’re sorry what? That you made me look stupid in front of all your coworkers and superiors or that you didn’t tell me you got a really great opportunity and didn’t think I was worth telling?”

He swore the contents of his stomach were making their way up his esophagus. Fortunately, he pulled into their driveway so at least his shaky hands wouldn’t cause a car wreck on top of all that too. “Kitten, I didn’t mean t’make you feel—”

“But you did Harry, and you don’t seem to be grasping how—”

“Please stop interrupting me,” he begged softly trying to remain calm when all he wanted to do was shut down. Or scream. “I know I messed up but—”

“No Harry, no buts. I’m not happy. I’m not happy at all and I—”

She put her hand on the door handle and the wave of nausea felt so intense. Harry locked the door quickly in a frantic panic.

“What are you doing!?” She gaped pulling at the handle as she was trapped inside. She whirled around to face Harry like he was a serial killer in a movie. He couldn’t blame her for looking at him like that. “Harry—”

“We can’t fight inside,” his voice was quiet. But it was clear, decisive.

“What are you talking ab—”

“This house is everything I wanted for us... for you,” he murmured. “M’not tainting it with argument because m’a proper idiot,” he looked at the steering wheel. “I can’t go in there and let y’tell me I messed up and y’hate me and don’t—”

“Harry,” her voice was softer, and her interruption didn’t make him feel angry anymore.

“—want to be with me anymore because—”

“Harry,” she whispered and grabbed one of his hands from his lap.

This was it. All those years and dreams. All the effort to get the house, reach out and find her. All those letters.

And he just completely fucked it up in one night.

He was so fucking stupid.

“Baby,” her voice was so soft. At least she was going to be nice about breaking up with him. Harry was the angry one and he didn’t like when she yelled. He worried it would hurt her throat. She wasn’t cut out for anger. She was sweet and lovely and the fact he made her mad was another reason he deserved to be alone.

“Harry let’s get one thing straight. I don’t care how stupid you make me look; I will never hate you. I never hated you ever and I don’t see a situation in which you could ever make me hate you,” she reached over and squeezed his hand. “Look at me,” she whispered.

He tentatively peered at her. It was going to be harder on him if he had to look at her while she left him. “M’not good at telling y’things that are hard.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I know.”

“I don’t want the promotion.”

“Shouldn’t we at least discuss—”

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “We’d have t’move and y’have your job that you love, and you’re so loved by... and we have this house, and nothing is as important t’me as us being happy in this place we’ve made a home.”

She smiled sadly, but there was soft fondness in her eyes that Harry hadn’t anticipated in their breakup. “We’d make any house a home, Harry.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Harry,” she held his hand in both of hers now and applied more pressure. “I’m sorry I yelled and interrupted you. I was upset, and that doesn’t make it okay. Can you listen for a moment? Really listen?” He turned to look at her squarely. His eyes felt hot, and his head was starting to ache. “I’m not with you because you bought me this beautiful house that I dreamed about. I’m not with you conditioned on the fact that I have a good job in town where I’m also needed or loved by those around me. I’m with you because I adore you and I love your heart. Every part of it. Even the parts that try to keep me out. Even the angry parts—the scared parts. I love you. If this house burned down, I would still love you,” she sounded so reassuring it hurt almost as much as thinking she hated him. The relief was crushing.

“But...I want you t’have the house and job anyway,” he mumbled.

She smiled, cupped his cheek. “I know, baby,” she nodded. “And I wish you had told me, but I can see that it wasn’t malicious. Of course it wasn’t. It was rude of me to imply that I was upset, and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me?”

It was ridiculous she was asking for forgiveness. She didn’t need it. She hadn’t done a single thing wrong. “I didn’t think t’tell you because I thought—”

“I know, baby, I know,” she nodded. “Let’s go inside and watch a movie before bed,” she leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips. “Forget about all this,” she rubbed her thumb on his cheek. “We have a beautiful house and life waiting to be lived in there thanks to you.”

The feeling in his fingers started to come back. The nausea subsided.

Harry remembered what Dr. Hendren said about the hummingbirds in his dreams meant; that healing was happening.

Maybe that’s why it felt like there were a hundred hummingbirds in his stomach as she got out of the car.

“So we’re not allowed to fight in the house?” She asked with a smirk.

“Um,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, no...” he shook his head. “S’too important.”

She stopped on the step outside the front door. “No fighting in the house. You crazy psycho,” she giggled. “Locking me in the car.”

“I was scared!” He protested.

She rolled her eyes. Then she smiled, grabbing his hand again and bringing it to her mouth. “You don’t have to be scared, Harry. Not about us. I’m not going anywhere.”

Perhaps, for the first time in his life, Harry really believed in something that resembled hope.

*

It was a warm summer day and Harry came home to an empty house. There was noise coming from the backyard, so he followed the sound of giggles and running water.

Miss Evie was standing beside her water table, splashing in nothing but her diaper, her little wisps of hair matted to her head. She was slathered in sunscreen and the umbrella from the patio table was moved so that the shade went right over her splashing zone. Beside her was the prettiest woman Harry had the pleasure of knowing; her legs outstretched on the deck, her back against the railing slats, and her pretty body adorned in a bathing suit, hidden beneath a coverup. “Hi Daddy,” she giggled at his approach. She was wearing sunglasses, but he could imagine her mischievous gaze all the same.

Harry felt his cheeks turn red at her innuendo and he shook his head at her. “Hi, kitten.”

“Dada!” Evie bounced up and down excitedly.

“Hello, pretty baby,” he bent down beside the table and scooped his wet daughter into his arms not caring that she soaked his clothes or got sunscreen on them. The baby giggled and nuzzled into his chest.

“She might love you more than I do,” she grinned.

Harry chuckled. “S’probably too much love for her little body to handle,” he mumbled kissing the top of her head. Beneath all the lotion, she still smelled like baby.

“That is a real possibility,” she agreed. The idea that she loved him more than their daughter’s body could handle was sweet. She tilted her head up to soak up the sun. She was so stunning, it practically hurt Harry to look at her, but it wasn’t going to stop him. “Evie baby, show Dada your splashing,” she grinned. Evie huffed and giggled as Harry steadied her back on her wobbly feet. She wasn’t walking but she was good at balancing and standing (especially with the support of the splash table). She slapped her hands on the surface getting Harry more we. He kissed the back of her little head.

“Nice job, baby,” he cooed proudly.

Evie made little gurgling noises and babbling sounds. “Buh-buh-buh,” she shook her head back and forth. Then she pointed at the birdfeeder right beside the deck. One little hummingbird fluttering beside them.

“That is a bird, Evie! Good job!” She laughed.

Evie splashed and Harry made his way around the splash table and crouched over the love of his life. “Hi,” she smiled dreamily. “I like this view,” she admitted.

“Keep it in your pants, love. Our daughter is right there.”

“I’m not wearing pants,” she reminded him with a grin.

“I love you,” he stated ignoring her as he straddled her thighs, kneeling so he wouldn’t put his weight on her body against the hard deck.

“I love you,” she responded with a smile that was sincerely brighter than the sun that was warming her pretty skin. Harry felt hot just looking at her and not because of the weather.

Harry kissed her and thought of all the years and nights he dreamed of these kinds of moments. How he felt unworthy and that they would never happen. How lucky he was to have her in his life making sweet memories and with a beautiful baby that he truly couldn’t imagine life without.

“I think Evie needs a sibling.”

“Are y’okay, kitten?” He chuckled at the implication.

“Warm weather,” she smiled impishly.

“Maybe we can get my mom to watch Evie? Or would Gem want to have a sleepover?” She asked trailing her finger along Harry’s neckline.

“Kitten,” he laughed.

“I’m sorry do you not want me?” She pouted dramatically.

“No, baby,” he shook his head at her listening to the sounds of their daughter having fun in the backyard of their perfect home. Their perfect life. “You know I always want you.”

--

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[dualityvn]

Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?

Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹

Sweet Vacation

CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment

Word count: 1345

You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with. 

It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in. 

There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left. 

Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker. 

- - -

You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in. 

The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here. 

The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew. 

“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you. 

“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!” 

He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away. 

“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.” 

There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort. 

“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like. 

“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.” 

You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild. 

“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.” 

He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out? 

“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you. 

Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth. 

Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.

“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully. 

Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth. 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave. 

“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!” 

What the hell was that? How far gone is he? 

You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them. 

When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink. 

And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.

As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.” 

He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!” 

You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips. 

“Okay,” you say instead. 

- - -

It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you. 

Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall. 

This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute. 

Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other. 

- - -

Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away. 

It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad. 

Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better. 

At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs. 

- - -

It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart! 

When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly. 

Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here. 

“I love you,” you murmur. 

He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features. 

“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes. 

You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly. 

Even the taste of his lips is sweet.

[just-a-creep-babe]

What Makes You Tick - Chapter 5

(Ticci Toby x Reader)

Commissions are open!

Check out my ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

Masterlist: x

What Makes You Tick Masterlist

Divider by @plum98

You can't breathe.

You wonder if he can tell you're faking it. If he's just playing along because this whole thing might as well be some kind of fucked-up game to him.

Breathe in, breathe out, you tell yourself. Slow and steady, in through your nose, out through your mouth.

You wonder if, at any moment, he finally plans on killing you. And it's not the first time you've had the thought, but it certainly doesn't make it any easier to digest. It certainly doesn't make the threat feel any less real.

A nervous kind of energy builds in your system. The anticipation mounts with every passing second of him not moving, not speaking, not doing anything except watching. You dread thinking that he might've done this every night, and that you're only now realizing it because you just so happened to be awake.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You think back to the million and one things you could've done to avoid this moment. You could've slept in the bathroom. You could've screamed for help. You could've jumped out the window and risked a few broken bones. Hell—you'd risk so much more than just a few broken bones to get away from these men.

The bed dips next to you as your thoughts frantically rush by. Your first instinct is to throw yourself at him to push him off and get him away from you, but you quickly stifle the urge.

Maybe he won't do anything, you think. Maybe he's about to leave, and you shouldn't risk it.

Just breathe, you tell yourself. Breathe.

And after what feels like an agonizing eternity, you hear him shift, you feel it on the bed next to you, and then you feel something else.

His hand.

Soft and warm, it's like his touch sparks some strange kind of electricity through your skin. You try not to stir, try not to flinch away from him.

He brushes a strand of hair from your face. To distract yourself from what's happening, you focus on trying to figure out which man this is. He isn't jerking or twitching, as far as you can tell, so you assume it's not the one in the goggles.

The tips of his fingers ghost over your cheeks, trailing your jawline, tickling your skin.

You try very, very hard not to panic. Even when it feels like he's leaning closer into you, you try not to let the stress get to you.

The one with the white mask seemed way too impatient, way too angry to have this kind of gentleness to him. Leaving your last option, you realize, to be the one with the black mask.

But right as you mentally place your bet that it's black-masked man, you feel his thumb caress your lips.

Your body moves before you can stop yourself.

All at once, you open your eyes and shove him away from you.

But right as your hands connect with his body, he grabs both of your wrists and pins them down either side of your head.

It's, unfortunately, a familiar position, a familiar set of motions you've had the displeasure of experiencing before. And when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you understand why.

He's not wearing his goggles, but the mouthguard covering the lower portion of his face is as familiar as ever, even in the inky darkness of the room.

You’re about to keep fighting him off—about to start kicking and screaming and yelling at him for being such a creep—when your gazes suddenly lock.

His eyes are... breathtaking.

It’s the most you’ve ever seen his face without the opaque lenses of his goggles. And even though you can’t fully make out the details through the darkness between you, you can tell this guy’s a pretty boy.

His dark eyes are framed by long and equally dark lashes. Messy, somewhat curly locks of hair fall over the boyish angles of his face, and you hadn't noticed it up to this point, but his hair looks thick and soft enough to make a good amount of girls seethe with jealousy. He seems to be around your age, and the realization has a strange mix of emotions fluttering in your stomach.

There’s no way he’s a murderer, you think. No way someone with that kind of innocence in their eyes could do such a horrible thing.

There's no fucking way.

"There's a notebook," he says suddenly, his voice just above a whisper. And there's this strained kind of urgency in his words that has you snapping to attention. “The symbols in it—the symbols keep him at bay.”

“W-what? What’re you talking about?!”

“He’s—he’s watching—“

He cracks his neck, and then it looks like he’s about to say something else, but he abruptly cuts himself off and freezes.

And, at the same time—you feel it. Someone is watching.

You snap your eyes shut. In a split second, your body takes over, and you’re back to pretending to be asleep. You force your breathing to slow, force your muscles to relax, force everything to soften in a cruel mockery of the panic buzzing through your system.

You feel the brunet lift off of you, releasing your hands, and a tense beat of silence follows.

You can control your breathing, but you can’t control the thrumming of your heart. You wonder if it’s noticeable, even through the sheets covering your body.

The thought’s a welcomed distraction from the paranoia and confusion regarding just what the fuck is going on.

There’s silence for what feels like way too long, until you almost start to wonder if he was just fucking with you from the start, and you’d only imagined feeling someone watching.

But then you hear the ever quiet, ever-faint thudding of what sounds like boots on the floor.

“Hard time sleeping?” a voice, deeper, huskier than that of the brunet, hums over the footsteps.

Your whole body stiffens.

It has to be the black-masked man this time, you think. It couldn’t be the other one—you would’ve recognized the voice. And you dread the thought of another man—a fourth one—being involved in this whole situation, so you don’t even want to consider that option.

Your kidnapper doesn’t answer. And, for a second, your skin prickles with the possibility that he was addressing you instead.

But you still pretend to be asleep. You don’t move an inch, even when a hand—bigger, more calloused than the brunet’s—strokes over your cheek.

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“She’s a cute one, huh?” And then there’s a brief pause before he adds, “just your type, isn’t she?”

You want to swallow down the lump in your throat, but you don’t dare.

“Fuck do you want, Hoodie?”

Hoodie?

His answer’s another hum, low and velvety.

It almost feels like the sound reaches somewhere deep within you, something that has goosebumps rising along your flesh. You hate the feeling.

“Nothing,” he states simply. “Just wanted to make sure there aren’t any secrets between us. For example,” he trails off, and when you feel his hand at your thigh—even above the covers—you nearly jump. Your pulse kicks up frantically.

“If you liked her…” he continues, his touch slow and lazy as he strokes the length of your thigh. “you’d tell us—wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck off, mind your fucking business,” the brunet spits. “And quit being such a-such a fucking creep while you’re at it.”

You hear him smacking Hoodie’s hand away. And then the warmth and pressure at your thigh leaves, and you nearly deflate with relief.

"I am minding my business, Toby. And you better start minding yours too, before Masky gets involved.”

You half-hope, half-expect the brunet—Toby—to spit out another retort. It doesn’t reassure you when he stays quiet, because it means that this Hoodie guy has a point. And you don't exactly know when you started rooting for Toby, but you don't even think it matters, at this point.

Another long second ticks by.

And then there's finally the sound of boots thudding away, leaving you with your kidnapper once more. But this time, you don’t dare reopen your eyes. You feel like an absolute coward, but even as yet another beat of silence passes, you just can’t bring yourself to move.

Sooner rather than later, you hear the door creaking open, then firmly clicking closed. And you know that you're fully alone again.

Toby, Hoodie, Masky.

You don't know what to think of everything that just happened. Quite frankly, considering the last few days of your life, you feel utterly lost, paranoid and fucking exhausted with worry. You don't even want to think about what that interaction implies.

Toby, Hoodie, Masky.

All you can do is cling to whatever shreds of sanity and normalcy you have left. And the easiest way to do that, it seems, is by mentally repeating the names of the three men over and over again.

Toby, Hoodie, Masky. Toby, Hoodie, Masky. Toby, Hoodie, Masky.

It grounds you—until thinking of their names is the only thing that eventually lulls you to sleep.

That night, you dream more than you have in a long, long while.

You dream that you're back home, but it's not the way you left it. It's dark, and it looks decayed, like it was abandoned years ago. Your neighbor's there, and even in your dream, you realize she shouldn't be there.

She should be dead.

She smiles at you like she knows what you’re thinking. Her teeth are black and rotten, with maggots squirming through the gaping holes in her mouth. And even in your dream, you tell yourself this isn't real.

It's just a nightmare, she can't hurt you.

She offers something—a book, you realize. And when you don't reach out to take it, she opens it in front of you so you've no choice but to look.

At first, you don't see anything. The pages are black like ichor, and when you try to concentrate on the pages, your mind is pulled into it. Like you're falling through a void.

You don't remember who you are. It doesn't even matter anymore. All that matters is that book.

There's a brief millisecond of clarity. You understand everything. You know the answers, know what needs to be done.

But just as quickly as that understanding—the meaning of all that is, all that will come to be—floods your mind, a loud, shrill abrasive sound snaps you out of it.

Your neighbor screams at the top of her lungs, and it’s the same sound she had made when she’d gotten killed.

She drops the book with a heavy thud, and all you can think about is no, not the book.

You need that book.

You scramble to grab it. But when you reopen the pages, they're no longer black, no longer imbued with knowledge you should’ve never had access to in the first place.

The pages are moldy. They're wet and rotten, and the writing is indecipherable. When you flip through it, the pages tear from the binding and disintegrate to ashes in your hands.

But the more you flip through it, the heavier it gets.

You realize, with a vile kind of lurch at your insides, that there are insects inside the book. It's just a small beetle on one page at first. But then on the next, there's a centipede and a few flies, and the one after that has a handful of worms and flies and maggots slithering around.

By the time you realize what's happening, you try to stop, but it's already too late. You're holding dozens—hundreds of insects between your hands. They’re writhing and squirming and wriggling between your fingers, crawling up your arms and slithering all over you.

You scream.

You’re so terrified that you don’t even hear how similar your scream is to that of your neighbor’s.

A spider—so much bigger than the rest of the insects—crawls up the spine of the book and onto the page. And the closer it gets to you, the bigger it gets. Until, next thing you know, it’s even bigger than you.

Its legs are thick and long, its massive inky black form towering over yours. You look up, and you get that feeling again.

That feeling that you’re going to die.

But you can’t run, can’t scream, can’t do anything except stand there, frozen, basking at the creature of death dominating over your form. Its front claws jerk and twitch in front of it, and that’s when you notice its head.

Except it isn’t a head at all. It’s a diamond. Pale, shimmering and impossibly beautiful, it seems to glint in a light that isn’t there in the darkness. It’s… mesmerizing. It takes your breath away.

The spider rubs its legs together, its mass convulsing and trembling, and then glittering webs of diamond are spilling out of it.

It’s, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Strings of glittering gems hang freely in the air, like they’re suspended in time. And as you’re admiring it, the spider keeps weaving more and more of its web until you’re surrounded in it, surrounded in its trap, but you don’t even care.

You reach out, fingers extending. And as your skin makes contact, it bursts into flame.

You’re hot. You’re so unbearably hot.

You’re burning alive.

Your eyes flash open, a chocked gasp clawing its way out of your lungs.

You bolt upright to a sitting position. You’re sweating. You kick the sheets off your clammy skin and tell yourself to breathe.

Mouthful after mouthful of the stale hotel air eventually cools you down and clears the panic from your mind.

You look down at your hands. No diamonds. No burn marks. You’re ok. It was just a dream. Just a nightmare.

Still, you feel gross. You feel off, like something inside of you is inexplicably wrong.

You need a shower.

As you stand, you notice a few things on the wooden drawer next to the guys' door that wasn't previously there. There's a McDonalds breakfast trio, complete with a coffee and everything, and a change of what looks to be new clothes, along with basic personal care items like travel-sized deodorant and mouthwash—that kind of thing.

You're beyond grateful for the personal care items, but when it comes to the breakfast, it has you snorting.

McDonalds, you think, they must've been feeling fancy.

You don't know when they dropped everything off, but judging by how cold everything is—including the coffee, unfortunately—your guess is that it was at least a few hours ago. Still, despite the less-than-ideal temperature, you savor the sweet blessing of caffeine.

You spend even more time than usual in the shower. You don’t know whether or not the change of clothes is a good thing or a bad thing. Is it a sign they’re finally going to bring you back—or is it a sign that you’re doomed to stay here much, much longer than expected? You almost don’t want to know the answer.

Instead, you do what you’ve been doing best for the past few days; you cling to whatever thoughts hold your attention enough to distract you.

It has you recalling last night’s events. You think back to what the Toby guy had said—something about symbols and a notebook—and you shudder as last night’s dream resurfaces.

You push the memory back to the recesses of your mind.

It feels like you've been given pieces of a bigger picture, but no matter how much you try to focus, you can't possibly begin to understand what’s going on. And you're painfully aware that your ability to understand the situation might just be the only thing that saves you.

Besides, if you've nothing else to think about, you know your thoughts will spiral. You'll start thinking about your friends and family back home, and what they must be thinking right now. Are they ok? Are they being interrogated by the cops? Were they forced to return to work and carry on like nothing's happened? Have they already started grieving you?

You shake your head, and keep doing what you've been doing for the past few days now; you try not to think about it.

As you finish up your shower, the last question on your mind is why. Why did Toby bother telling you that information? Was it some kind of trick? A test to see if you actually know anything or if you're just bluffing?

You promise yourself you'll be more careful around him. But even as you do, you think back to that look in his eyes, and you wonder if his situation maybe isn't too different from yours. You think about ransom and coercion and manipulation, and it has you thinking about unlikely alliances and how chances of survival are always better with teamwork.

But then you think back to what that other guy had said about you being Toby's type. And you don't know what to think all over again.

You dry yourself off, comb through your hair with your fingers, and make good use of the hygiene products they left you with. The clothes, much to your surprise, fit you relatively well. They're relatively basic; a shirt, a simple pair of pants, and a pack of basic black underwear—which you couldn't be more thankful for.

They still smell like the store they were bought from, which is reassuring to know that they actually bought it, and didn't just steal it off god-knows who instead.

Once you’re done, you step out of the bathroom.

You would've never expected to see the three men in your room—waiting for you. But, lo and behold, as soon as you step out of the bathroom, the three turn their full, undivided attention toward you.

You're a dear in headlights. You're so, so incredibly thankful that you decided to get dressed instead of lounging around in your towel like you would've otherwise done if you were at home. But even then, even fully clothes, you, once again feel like a peace of meat dangling in front of three hungry predators.

The one with the white mask—Masky, you assume—wastes no time for pleasantries as he addresses you with an impatient huff.

"Took your sweet fucking time in there, didn't you, Princess?"

[ameliathornromance]

“Okay, okay, I have to go now.”

Your face flushed, “Oh, no, babe, don’t-” but it was too late, your Orc boyfriend had exited the tent tend to his daily duties.

Catching a glance of yourself in the mirror, you recognised your was new lipstick smudged all over your face.

A part of you wanted to chase after your boyfriend, tell him to come back and help him clean the stains off his face… But then again, he was the one who insisted that he help test out your new lipstick.

It didn’t matter how many times you’d told him it was smudge proof, he seemed determined to prove you wrong.

And now, he’d just stepped out into the camp with your lipstick stains all over his face…

Well, you supposed it was his own fault.

Whatever consequences he’s going to suffer, are his to bare.

Your boyfriend strutted into the camp, more pep in his step than usual. He hadn’t realised how much of an energy boost it was to have you smother him with affection first thing in the morning.

As he waltzed through the camp, he found it strange that there were so many more eyes on him than usual.

He raised an eyebrow at some Orcs who stood over by a caldron, who all turned to each other snickered and got back to work. While strange, your Orc thought that there must’ve been some kind of inside joke between them and just kept on walking.

When he’d made his way over to his post by the front of the camp, the Orc whose shift he was taking over did a double take. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked, his tone disgusted.

Your Orcs’ eyebrows shot up as the other Orc matched his look to his tone and stalked away from the post, shoving his weapon into his others hands.

“Hey!” Your boyfriend called after him, “If you’ve got a problem with me-”

The other Orc stopped dead in his tracks. His ears were burned red, “it’s not a problem with you…” He grumbled. “It’s… It’s nothing.” And with that, he stalked off to join the company of a few other Orcs, who glanced at your partner all burst into laughter.

Your boyfriend frowned, but turned his attention back to his post.

The rest of the day went strangely. Anyone who came in or out of the camp, either wouldn’t look your boyfriend in the eye, was clearly trying to hide a smile or just outright laughed at him.

And no one was telling him why. It didn’t matter if he demanded it or even threatened his fellow camp members, they all refused to tell him.

The worst part about all of this was that there was no way of telling what was wrong with himself, since he was on duty until that evening when the night change over happened.

He tried to get a glance of himself in the reflection of his sword, but it was no use, the blade had gone dull from overuse and made it impossible to see if it was something on his face.

He made a mental note to have the blade sharpened.

Quick glances at his body told him that there was nothing wrong with him anywhere else either.

When his shift finally came to an end, he raced back to his tent, where you were.

You jumped as he flung open the tent flaps, darted over to you. “Is there something on my face?” He asked you seriously.

Pursing your lips, you tried to suppress a smile. Your lipstick stains had slightly worn away over the day, but there was still the tell tail outline of your lips, smooched all over his face.

Deciding to play dumb, you asked, “what? Why?”

“All day, everyone has been laughing at me. Some Orcs have even been avoiding to look at me! Is there something on my face?” His face twisted in frustration.

You caved. “You remember this morning, right?” You asked, letting the smile spread across your face.

Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What about this morning?”

“My lipstick has been all over your face.” You said.

He narrowed his eyes at you, confused before his head whipped around to face your mirror. He lunged for it, snatching it off your table and examining his reflection.

Patting his face down, he stared dumbfounded at himself. “I thought you said it was smudge proof!”

“You wanted to prove me wrong.” You returned. “So I guess you did, and now you’ve paid the price for it!”

Your orc looked down at his reflection, then back at you, then back at himself in the mirror.

He covered his face with a hand. “Oh God, I’ve been walking around like this all day!”

You let out a laugh as your Orc sunk to his knees, “I tried to warn you!”

“I know.” He groaned.

“Do you want me to help you get it off?”

“Yes please.”

Grabbing a wet towel, you helped your boyfriend wipe off the rest of your lipstick, while he sat there face burning from embarrassment.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

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Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[pavosnoctua]

cw: yandere, isolation, forced imprisonment, kidnapping mentions, mdni. diluc and his complex. mentions of phys. harm but not from diluc. dubcon ment. pregnancy ment. afab reader. slight ooc on dilucs end.

blank blogs and minors dni

not my best work but the plot bunnies were working (part two might come)

You don't sleep often anymore and it worries him - you pace late at night, mumbling to yourself like some madwoman and he thinks of hiring the best physicians to see if you are okay. But the last time he did that, that had you upset and telling him to fuck off. He'd saved you, he tells himself, from the people who hit and made you cry.

Diluc misses your energy now - your spark, the thing that vindicated him and irritated him and...the only reminder you were still alive.

"Beloved, it is late." he tells you, unable to avert his eyes from your bosom, swallowing heavily as a familiar hunger overtakes him. Indecently dressed - no, appropriately dressed for bed time. But yet...he makes a mental note to have the maids get rid of all these outfits that show off too much.

Nobody else is allowed to see you in such clothes if you insist on pacing the halls like some poltergeist. You do not respond, only stepping past him to continue your nightly, hours long path.

"Bed, my beloved. You will see the sun in the morning."

"I can't sleep." you tell him, bluntly. "I cannot go outside, you have me under lock and key - I simply wish to move about."

"I allow you to help Adelinde with the chores indoors." he argues and draws in a deep breath. No - no, he won't fall for your bait. The bait that has you feeling self righteous and angrier, ammo for arguments later. "Is that not enough?"

"No! It's barely anything! Dusting here and there, organize the shelves. You never have me do tasks that could cause even just a bruise!" You're tired, sleep deprived. Energetic, yet feeling sluggish and exhausted.

And Diluc stares at you. It's a disconnected thought.

"Come back to bed with me love, we'll figure it out." There's distrust in your eyes but you obey, because arguing while you're tired gives him an advantage. Archons, forgive him because you won't.

When your head hits the pillow after you accept a drink from him - resigned, accepting, incapable of fighting at this time - he's relieved to find that you're even more tired.

"Love, I know a way to...get what we both want." Archons, forgive him.

"If - if we have sex," you murmur, understanding in your tired state. "Will I earn more privileges?"

"Yes." It's half a lie.

And he repeats, Archons forgive him.

Diluc marvels at your wet heat at first penetration - he wants to stay like this but can't. If this goes on too long, you will get upset. At least, for now, he has you.

Your privileges come with how much you're willing to agree to - and outside is precious, so you agree to a lot. You still barely sleep, but your pacing as stopped and he has you in his arms every night.

Your mouth is always soft and warm, and the perfumes from your baths are always enticing for him - his favorite scents. How he adores you.

Red marks on your neck - you complain he bites too much. You complain about him cumming inside. But you moan sweetly for him. Nicely. Desperately. Your breasts are starting to swell and there's all the telltale signs.

And yet -

All good things come to an end - when you are in tears as your growing belly, all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Diluc is elated. He's always wanted children.

He ignores your little no's as he kisses you more - after all, your freedom has come at a price and he is not a man who breaks promises.

[restwellsoon]

Double Dog Dare Ya

Pairing: Caleb x F!Reader

Summary: Wound up and worn thin from work, the only way you’ve been able to find relief is through some acts of self-love the moment you get home… which wouldn’t be an issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your nightly rituals were keeping Caleb up at night.

“You can’t be embarrassed about a hunk of–”–his eyes shot back to the forgotten toy beside you–”excuse me, a large hunk of silicone.” That hand that kept you balanced swatted his shoulder as heat swallowed you whole. “There’s gotta be another reason for it. What? Were you thinkin’ of me or something?”

Warnings: sex toys, mutual masturbation, childhood friends-to-lovers, smut, Reader is MC! and we all know that MC matches Caleb’s freak!!!, dom/sub undertones

Minors and ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Turning the doorknob, your body ached as you crossed the threshold home, exhausted from a stretch of long days being on your feet, only to return to the office to spend hours typing up reports and providing additional information for Tara and her team. Even though Captain Jenna swore this torturous overtime would end soon, you were doubtful–even your Hunter’s Watch was pushed to its limits, overheating and rebooting a couple of times a day. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have minded, however, your original plan was to spend your time off with Caleb since this mission was in Skyhaven. All of this unexpected overtime meant that your free time was wasted on sleep.

‘It wasn’t like our schedules aligned anyway,’ you tried to tell yourself as you quietly slid your boots off, dropping them off in their usual spot before tiptoeing across the shadowed living room to reach your bedroom. Caleb’s house was proof of it–if you weren’t here for your mission, there’d hardly be any signs of life since the Colonel was often away for work. The moonlight hid cobwebs in the corners of the room.

Shooting a glance towards his bedroom, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, lingering at your doorway. Texts and calls weren’t enough. You needed him beside you.

Resigned, you entered your room, closing the door with a soft shut. Flicking the light switch, you scanned the area as a renewed sense of energy filled you as your eyes adjusted to the light. Despite your protests, Caleb redecorated it entirely, choosing a style that reminded you of your childhood bedroom but more elevated. 

There was a bounce in your step as you danced through your nightly routine, stripping off your uniform in a trail that led to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you crawled under the covers in nothing more than your underwear. 

Though you wanted to start right away, work still served as a mental block, and you replayed today’s events over, trying to fit it within the grand scheme of this mission. A voice in the back of your head told you to stop working so hard, that this was your time to relax.

Tara was the first to notice, replying back to the first report you sent her as ‘too detailed.’ 

“What’s wrong with too much detail, Tar’?” You gritted out, annoyed with the critique, her feedback warranting a call for immediate answers.

Unaffected by your aggression, she giggled, spinning a pen around her fingers before looking around to make sure none of her co-workers were eavesdropping. “I thought the whole point of going to Skyhaven was to meet up with your boy toy?”

“My best friend,” you corrected.

She hummed, “Is that what he thinks?”

“I don’t have time for this,” you snapped, multi-tasking and looking for the next location you had to hit, “so get to the point.”

“Look, if you start off at this pace from the get-go, this is what the big bosses are gonna expect. I’m just worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard, too fast. It’s not like this is an easy mission where you’re exterminating Wanderers… There’s a high likelihood of you burning out and mission failure.”

Your voice softened at her concern. “Sorry. You know how I get it–”–“Right, you’re Miss Perfection herself! That’s why you’re on the Alpha Team after all,” she interjected–“so I shouldn’t have taken it so personally. I know. I know you’re just worried, so thanks Tara. I’ll do my best to… not work so hard.”

Despite her concern, you did anything but. It’d gotten to the point that even Xavier noticed it a few times, commenting that your form was off during a brief extermination mission in-between this one. Sylus’ teasing remarks made you unintentionally self-conscious while Rafayel did his best to keep you from working as a hunter by working for him. You didn’t even want to imagine the kind of scolding Zayne would give you if he knew your sleeping and eating habits. You were surprised that in those rare moments when your schedules would cross, that Caleb even let you leave for work.

His touch lingered on your wrist, asking why you were up so early. It wasn’t so strange for him to leave before the sun rose, but for you? He was certain that the Association didn’t require Hunters to work such odd and long hours for undercover missions–this had to be of your own volition.

“Classified,” you tried to joke while stifling a yawn. It was an excuse to pull away from him–otherwise you wouldn’t leave the house.

His mouth twitched, fighting to say something more before dropping to a hum, sliding on the sleek leather of his gloves. He knew better than to press the matter. You’d deny, deny, deny until you were ready. His cap laid pristine on the counter.

Your breath caught in your throat, startling you from your mind’s wanderings.

When he put that uniform on, he was another person. 

When he took it off, he was Caleb again.

But when the uniform was on, he looked so…

Your mind gave up on finding the perfect word as you closed your eyes, thinking of the stiff lines of his silhouette. It quickly devolved into flickering through different memories of Caleb in various states of dress. Despite living together for so long, you surprisingly never walked in on the other naked. Simpler needs prevented you from dwelling on the reason behind your disappointment about that.

Squeezing your thighs together, you knew you were wet, and blindly you reached inside the night stand’s drawer to grab your toy.

You were probably wet enough to take it easily, but still you brought it to your lips. The faceless lovers you thought of and disjointed lust you normally felt weren’t there.

Taking the dildo in your mouth, you sucked slowly before taking in a few more inches. Your tongue swirled around the head before focusing on its length, using the veins as a guideline. Once satisfied, you dragged it from your mouth, down your chest and let it sit, heavy, over your center.

How would he want you? Fully bare to contrast to his uniform? You would follow whatever commands the colonel gave you. Or would he push your panties aside, rushing in eagerly as if this was what he always wanted? It could have been the Caleb of the past or the one in the present; it didn’t matter as long as it was him.

You moved your panties aside, giving yourself a tentative push before slowly sinking in. Forgetting yourself, you let out a sigh.

–

Whatever excitement Caleb had for your business trip melted into worry as he realized the time he spent with you was less than expected. The short periods where you could videochat weren’t enough, and even then, he could see the dark circles under your eyes. Your location often showed you bouncing around various establishments across Skyhaven and occasionally doing a turnaround trip from here and the Association’s HQ back in Linkon.

Well your location hasn’t changed at all today, you texted back once.

yeah, because there aren’t any signal towers or wifi in the deepspace tunnel, dummy :p

Your only response was the middle finger emoji, earning you an annoying ‘well maybe if you weren’t working so much, we could try.’ You didn’t have time to ask if he was joking.

The timing would have been perfect if you actually let yourself rest. Missions with the Fleet were limited to patrolling the Deepspace Tunnel’s borders instead of exploration, meaning Caleb was actually home for once. He almost wished that the higher-ups would schedule some recon instead of patrol–at least he’d have more tasks to distract himself with. Whether it was in his office, at a meeting, or at home, Caleb was on edge until he got that ‘I’m home :)’ text and knew that you were safe.

Sleep deprivation and meeting the rigorous demands of his job weren’t new to him. Managing such unpleasant things were a foundational part of his education at the Aerospace Academy after all. When he came home at night, sleep was never an issue.

What kept him up at night was curiosity. 

The hours you returned home would vary, but the routine was always the same: set your boots down, tiptoe across the house until you reached your bedroom, then…

He grew half-hard at the thought of what would happen next.

It was cute actually. Even though you tried to be as quiet as you could be, there was no denying the telltale sound of your pussy getting fucked by something. There wasn’t any humming that would indicate a vibe. Based on your noises, he doubted you were using your fingers either. A dildo then was the only logical assumption. 

Curiosity threatened to beat down his iron-clad will as he fought every urge to sneak into your room to see what it looked like. Was it pink? How’d it look? Where did you even get it?

Giving his cock a squeeze, he showed himself some mercy and gave into its wants. Not bothering to do more work than necessary, he pulled his cock through the fly of his boxers, and it weeped pre-cum in thanks.

You had to have bought it when he died, he decided.

You two shared your locations with each other the moment you got phones, and he knew you weren’t dumb enough to stop sharing it for a moment, otherwise he’d know. That kind of confrontation was something your younger self wouldn’t want. You had enough blackmail on each other to the point that Gran would have locked you both up for weeks if she knew what you two got into as rebellious teens.

Even though he hated that his death left you crying and hurt, the thought of you being struck with grief, missing him, wanting him, needing him to the point of finding something to replace that void turned him on immensely.

His strokes were clumsy and desperate–a pathetic attempt to live out the fantasy of you wanting him as hopelessly as he wanted you.

–

“You lookin’ for a midnight snack or what?” A voice asked from behind, holding you in place before you could jump. The fridge light highlighted Caleb’s features. “Remember? I texted you about the leftovers, but if you really want something else, I know a place that does delivery until 2.”

“I’m just thirsty,” you told him before grabbing a bottle of water. 

“Me too,” he explained himself. “Lately I’ve been parched at night.”

You ducked under him so he could grab one too, leaning on the kitchen island backwards to look at him. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting he flipped on.

Caleb was never one to fuss about what he wore to bed, and tonight was no different. He wore a muscle tee and a pair of sweats that hung far too low on his hips. The band of his boxers were showing. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he killed off the bottle of water, using his Evol to open the trash lid and toss it in. The little red gem from the necklace you gave him winked as he approached you.

Taking another sip of water, you gulped, thinking that your earlier thoughts would have left you the moment you came. Instead, they lingered, making you hyper aware of Caleb in a way that felt inappropriate and wrong. You’ve had thoughts like these before, but this time, they weren’t so easy to push away. You shouldn’t look at your best friend that way.

The bottle’s clang was metallic as you set it down on the counter. “Has the Fleet been overworking you?” 

Guilt replaced shame as you realized that you hadn’t been attentive to him despite everything he was doing for you.

“Nah,” his eyes swept over you. He used a hand to corral you towards the living room and couches. “I’ve just been extra thirsty lately. Hey, don’t look at me with those eyes, pipsqueak. I’m fine. An energy drink? I don’t drink those, and neither should you…”

You bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t say that he sounds like Zayne. You didn’t want to think about anyone else besides Caleb.

“Well, it seems like you’re energized now,” you told him, glancing at the clock. 

“Being around you has me feelin’ recharged and refreshed. I don’t wanna go back to bed just yet.”

“Wanna watch a movie then?”

He nodded, grabbing the remote.

When you were kids and had all the energy in the world, there was nothing better than staying up late and watching movies together. Grandma would scold you two for falling asleep in the living room, saying that you’d catch a cold. Both of you would claim different parts of the living room then.

Now you cuddled up to Caleb, using a small pillow to serve as the only barrier between you and his lap while he turned the TV on and flipped to a random channel.

“You better not fall asleep on me,” he teased, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

Stifling a yawn, you told him it was fine even if you did. “I have a few days off starting tomorrow,” you said, lazily digging your feet under a folded blanket. “Jenna texted me right when I got home and said that according to Linkon’s labor laws, I’m mandated to take a rest period, especially since this assignment seems like it’ll take longer than expected. If I fall asleep, we can pick up where we left off.”

“Yeah?” His hand brushed your shoulder as you turned your attention to the screen. It looked like he put on some rom-com that was popular when you were in college. He used his Evol to flick the blanket over you. “I’m off for a few days too.”

This time, it was his turn to yawn.

“Our vacation’s starting off strong, isn’t it?”

Silently you watched the movie, each of you letting out an occasional chuckle until the sound of rain and muffled love confession lulled you to sleep.

–

The clock read 2 AM as Caleb decided to finally take you back to your room. He thought you’d stir awake on your own a few times, burying your face into the cushion that separated you. It pressed and rubbed against him, forcing Caleb to do his best in subtly shifting himself, but there was only so much a man could take.

“Alright, pipsqueak, I’m takin’ you back. It’s late,” he murmured, smiling softly at the groan he received in return.

Using his Evol, he lifted you so he could pick you up bridal style. Your reaction was instinctive, arms wrapping loosely around his shoulders as you buried your face in his neck. 

“You couldn’t have brought the blanket too?” You mumbled, each word brushing your lips against his skin. The faint scent of his body wash and cologne still lingered, and throughout the years, he still smelled the same–strong and comforting despite everything–and you buried your nose against him. It might be a while before you see each other again.

His hum resonated from his throat to your skin. “Ever the demanding princess.”

“Princess?” You scoffed, hold still tight as you bounced on his body with each step he took. You shimmied against him as a threat. Caleb sucked in a breath. He could feel your hot center through your shorts, rubbing against his abs. You took that little noise he made as annoyance. “Fine then. I can walk.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, softly kicking your door open. “We’re already here.”

With the flick of his hand, you floated from his arms to your bed, quickly getting covered by the comforter. You shivered at its coolness. The heat from Caleb’s body was better.

“Night, Cal.”

Caleb lingered for a moment, his eyes looking everywhere except you. Finally, he said your name softly. “‘Night, pipsqueak. Try not to spend too long dreamin’ of me. I’m right here too.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for always bein’ here.”

His hand flexed as he fought with himself to say something more. Whatever it was, must not have been that important. He gave you a tight smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

–

Your need for rest finally caught up to you as you immediately fell asleep once Caleb left, hardly noticing the gentle shut of the door as he crept out. Your sleep was heavy and full, the kind of disorienting slumber that had you questioning the time of day and if you even slept at all.

Staring into the darkness of the ceiling, you realized that Caleb must have drawn the blackout curtains before leaving. You didn’t feel like seeing the blinding sky that Skyhaven offered just yet.

A knock on the door startled you. “Hey pipsqueak,” Caleb rapped on the door, “brunch is ready.”

“Brunch?” You called out, patting the nightstand for your phone.

There was a pause, then a soft laugh. “Yeah, brunch. It’s nearly noon.”

He was right. Your phone said it was five til twelve. Groaning, you grabbed the remote to open the blinds, the mechanical system rolling back the blackout curtains while the lighter gauzier set remained drawn, doing its best to blur out some of the brightness.

“‘Kay. I’ll be out in a minute,” you told him, sliding off your sleep shorts. You left them at the foot of the bed, telling yourself that you’d get them later when you did laundry.

You made your way to your bathroom, scrolling through your phone and reading all of your missed texts and emails. Somehow Tara and Jenna appeared on either shoulder, reminding you about the dangers of burnout and work-mandated rest periods. You saved your email as a draft, setting your phone on the edge of the sink facedown as you brushed your teeth. 

There was another knock at your door, and you answered a muffled ‘Yeah?’ through a mouth full of toothpaste froth and spit.

“Can’t hear you,” Caleb yelled, “so I’m comin’ in.”

The door opened with a squeak.

“Hey, I’m doing my laundry right now, so do you want me to do yours…”

His speech trailed, prompting you to step back into the room, following his line of sight.

Yelling out a garbled ‘Fuck!’, you spit the remainder of your toothpaste in the sink, tossing the brush in it too.

Despite your frantic cursing and movement, Caleb remained unswayed, eyes focused on the object that laid in the center of your messy bed. Mentally, you cursed Tara for her stupid suggestion about stress relief (“Well, if you’re boytoy isn’t gonna help with work stress, why not get a real toy?”) but you knew that deep down, the only person you could blame is yourself and your laziness.

“Well, what do we have here?” His fingers beckoned the toy over in all of its realistic silicone glory.

Mustering up all of your strength and pushing past your embarrassment, you tackled Caleb onto the bed, breaking his concentration. The dildo fell beside him.

You hadn’t fought like this since you were young, and it was obvious that Caleb would be the clear winner in this battle. Still, you did your best to wrestle with him, tumbling around in the sheets until you were a breathless mess. At least you were able to pin him beneath you.

While you were exerting all of your energy, Caleb was careful to control both of your movements, making sure you didn’t roll too far on one side of the bed and fall. He always liked giving you this false sense of control. There was something in that smug expression that he loved, from the way your eyes glittered to that haughty look you’d give him. The reward was worth it too. His wrists were pinned over his head as you settled all of your weight on him with straddled hips.

Your chest heaved, making the oversized DAA tee you borrowed billow with your breath. Despite its looseness, he could make out the soft curve of your tits. It took all of his control to hold back a groan–you were braless. Pantsless too, he realized when his eyes finally trailed down.

The glint in Caleb’s eyes was wicked, and his grin was much worse.

“Didn’t think you’d get that worked up about it,” he teased. It pissed you off that there wasn’t a hitch in his voice, no ragged breath. There was only amusement as he searched your face.

Refusing to give him whatever it was that he wanted, you looked away.

“There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself.” His left hand broke away from your grip to run his fingertips against your thigh. His voice was honey-sweet, his touch reassuring. “I’m just wonderin’ why you didn’t ask me for help.”

Your eyes flashed back to his, incredulous at his amethyst sincerity. “Caleb, there’s just some things that I can’t ask of you.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re–” The grip on his right wrist slackened.

He didn’t want to hear it, cutting you off. “You know I’d do anything for you because I…”

His hand settled on your hip, hotter than a brand–as if to mark you as his and his alone. If it were to leave such a mark, you wouldn’t have been opposed to it.

“You know I do too, but it’s not about that. I…” You trailed off, unsure if this was where you wanted to finally cross the line or deepen its boundary. “I mean, if I offered to… with you. Wouldn’t you…?”

“I guess I’m just surprised, is all.”

Now both hands were on either hip, keeping you in place. You kept your balance by lightly holding onto his shoulder.

“You can’t be embarrassed about a hunk of–”–his eyes shot back to the forgotten toy beside you–”excuse me, a large hunk of silicone.” That hand that kept you balanced swatted his shoulder as heat swallowed you whole. “There’s gotta be another reason for it. What? Were you thinkin’ of me or something?”

You reeled back in fear that one look into your eyes would tell Caleb the truth. Scoffing, you hoped this act would be enough to feign your offense while you tried to think of how you could get the upper hand. But it was always difficult to surprise Caleb. Unless…

Unless you treated it like a dare. Like how you always did. The stupid acts of courage you’d challenge each other to, to see who’d fold first and confess their feelings. In the past, it’d always end the same way. Both of you were cowards.

You bit your lip. If you took this dare, what would become of you?

“What if I was? Is that so wrong?”

Caleb choked as you stared down at him, fire in your eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest as you sat on his lap, ass perfectly smothering his hard cock. It was a look that pinned him in place–hypergravity as its finest.

He saw the toy last night when he was tucking you into bed, and his only intention was to tease you. Your reaction was too over-the-top, too dramatic. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was delusion. But a part of him hoped that the reason for it was him.

“Really?”

You didn’t expect the truth to have so much power over him. His voice was doubtful, afraid that you’d set him up for some cruel prank. But like a dumb puppy, his eyes said it all–Caleb desperately wanted this to be real, his hope for your attention, your love, your desire apparent. You wanted to give him everything.

Pressing your body down to his, you weren’t sure if it was his heart or yours that was beating so fast. Your breath was fire against already flushed skin.

“Really.”

He swallowed hard. Even though he’d gotten used to the scent of you, the feel of you, everything was more erotic up close like this in heated want.

“And what…” His voice broke off, and you felt his fingers tremble against your skin. “What were you thinking of?”

This wasn’t the time for you to lose your bravado. 

“Kissing you��� Feeling all of the parts of you that I’ve known.” A hand trailed down to his, holding it as the sheets got caught in-between. “And feeling all of the places that I’ve yet to discover.” You ground your hips against Caleb’s, teasing his length with the movement. 

Finally letting go of restraint, Caleb groaned. Your wetness left the fabric between you damp.

“We could do that now,” he begged, tugging on your hand. “You could have the real thing.” He pleaded with you with those puppy dog eyes.

You pulled back to look at him, a playful pout on your lips. “You’re not even gonna let me finish? You know, Caleb, sometimes you can be really mean.”

He was audibly panting now, hips pushing back against yours. “You wanna talk about mean?” He huffed.

“I thought it’d be easier to show you instead of telling you what I was thinking.” You leaned back, making a spot for yourself between his legs.

As you grabbed the toy beside him, he let out a pathetic and weak ‘oh.’ Seeing him come undone like this, seeing Caleb so weak and vulnerable gave you the courage you needed to keep on with this dare. You were the only one who should see him this way.

‘You’re really gonna do this, aren’t you?’ You thought. ‘You stupid, impulsive girl.’

“I’m happy that yours is bigger,” you winked.

Whatever blood Caleb had left rushed to his cock, leaving him dizzy as his bulge ached, begging him to do something about this.

Watching you suck on the toy, Caleb didn’t even want to think of where you learned to do those things with your tongue. He needed to focus on the fact that you wanted to do those things to him.

You were so wet that he could see the outline of your lips. He shifted while trying to hide his eagerness, so close to seeing the very thing that he’d been fantasizing about for years. You pulled your panties aside to give him a peek of that sweet center before you rubbed the toy’s head against your clit.

The fact that you were wearing his old DAA shirt made everything hotter. It served as a point that you were his like he was yours. He palmed himself through his sweats to keep himself sane.

There wasn’t any hesitation as you turned back to your fantasy from last night, sliding in half the length without issue. The sounds were lewd but your expressions were worse. When you reached the base, there was that embarrassing pap, pap, pap as you fucked yourself.

“You like it rough,” Caleb said, not so much a question as it was an observation, his eyes never leaving your pussy.

“I think…” You tried to focus, but god, it felt so good to have something inside you. “I think I’d like whatever you’d do.”

There was a moment of silence, and you dared to take a peek at Caleb. He had that look in his eyes again, the one where he looked like a dog that wanted to beg for a treat but felt guilty for wanting it in the first place. Feeling your stare, his eyes met yours, and you gave him a slight smile. 

“Can I…?” He wiggled his fingers.

“Yeah.”

Using his Evol, Caleb fucked you with the toy, his pace frustrating and difficult to predict. One minute he was fucking you slow and shallow, only giving you half of the toy’s length. The next, he was pulling it out completely, only to give it to you in fast thrusts. You’d squeak when he'd hit a certain spot, making him tap it again and again.

Using your newly freed hands, they crept up your shirt to play with your tits, one hand groping while the other tugged at your nipple.

Caleb mumbled nonsense, more to himself than to you, about how pretty you looked with your legs spread like this. “And you’re thinking of me,” he groaned, getting a little rough with his Evol.

“The only way I’d look perfect is if I was sitting pretty with your cock inside me, Caleb.”

He had to focus on not nutting then and there, leaving you empty as he pulled out the toy. 

“Are you sure…?”

No, the line was already crossed. You couldn’t go back. You didn’t want to go back to what you were before.

Crawling back to him, you laid your full weight on his heaving chest, pressing your hand against his heart. It thrummed against your touch, pounding wildly as if it belonged in your hand instead of his chest.

His fingers tilted your chin up and you looked at him once more. The baby fat on his cheeks had melted away years ago, changing his soft boyish looks with time. Sweat clung to his bangs, and roughly, he pushed them back, giving him a mature look that highlighted his jaw. How many years had he looked like that? It was as if you were looking at him for the first time, or maybe this was something you’d always known but kept hidden–Caleb was a man.

Your lips finally met his, pushed together by years of repression, pressing harder and harder against each other until one of you opened up, exchanging tongues and breath between you. Those hands of his that always hesitated, white-knuckled and fisted, finally surrendered, grabbing and kneading all that they could. You wanted to melt into their touch, but for now, you let them undress you.

Naked, you shared each other’s heat.

It wasn’t enough to show him that you were certain. You swooped in for another kiss, more innocent and adoring than the previous one. Your fingers lingered on his jaw, feeling his pulse just beneath it.

“I’ve always been sure when it comes to you,” you told him.

If there was one thing either of you knew of this world, it was that every decision that led you to the other was the right one. It was something that you both forgot with time as fear and consequence kept each other at bay. 

Kissing him from his eyelids to his nose, you gave him a quick peck on the lips before sending your trail down. His hands held your hair as you finally reached your desire. As much as you wanted to give it all of your attention, you knew that Caleb was past his breaking point, but still you paused enough to admire it.

Spitting on his cock, you mixed it with his precum, using your palm to rub it from the head and down his shaft, your wrist twisting with the upward curve of his length. 

Satisfied, you positioned yourself over him.

“You wanna be on top?” Caleb asked incredulously.

He didn’t know where to look–your face, your tits, or pretty little cunt that was hovering right above his cock.

“Yeah, and?”

It was hard for him to fight the urge to baby you as he watched you struggle to take him. The dildo prepped you enough to get him half-way in, but now you were stuck. Your pride refused to ask him for help.

“Take it slow,” he told you, though there wasn’t any patience in his voice.

You let out a satisfied noise as your hips dropped down further. “But I want you.”

Between your stubbornness and the hot feel of your center wrapped around him, Caleb did his best to focus, his patience paying off as you sat on his lap, hilted and full. You sat there, breathing slowly as your body accommodated his size. He could feel every breath and every squeeze.

“You good?”

“Yeah, too good.”

His hands crept to your hips. “Should I help you?”

“Caleb, you don’t have to use your Evol, I can–” you whined before he cut you off.

“Who said I was gonna use my Evol?

His hips rose up to shallowly fuck you, moving slowly so you’d get used to him. Unlike the toy, it was easy to follow his rhythm, and you relaxed enough to lay down and kiss him.

Your wildest fantasies couldn’t compare to what he was actually doing to you. His fingers tangled in your hair as you kissed his neck, vibrating against the low reverb of his moaning, sprinkled with the occasional ‘fuck, you’re too good to me’ and your name.

Used to his size, you bounced on his lap, Caleb’s eyes never leaving the part of you that was connected. “Look at you, taking all this cock.”

“I think you’ve ruined everyone else for me,” you admitted between sighs, each bounce inching you towards your orgasm. “All I want is you.”

He grunted, rolling into your hips deep. It wasn’t enough. He needed a different position. “Say it again,” he begged..

“All I want is you, Caleb.”

Looking at you with darkened eyes, he flipped you over to reposition himself on top of you, the bed squeaking from the force.

His breath was hot at your throat as he left open-mouth kisses across its column. In the sunlight, you could see the dark marks you left on his skin. A passing thought wondered if he’d be able to hide it with his uniform’s collar.

A feeling of intrusion punched you from your thoughts, forcing you to gasp. It pushed again. Then again. And again. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around Caleb, but it only made things worse. There was a fullness you couldn’t reach with the other position

“Too rough?” He asked, stopping but keeping himself sheathed between your legs. His jeweled eyes glittered in the sunlight, its rays highlighting his dark brown hair with gold. He looked like an angel, and you were certain you died, seeing stars and darkness with your growing release.

You shook your head, giving him a quick peck for reassurance. “Not rough enough,” you told him.

Getting the hint, he pushed one leg back and hauled it over his shoulder, giving you a testy drive. Your response was immediate–nails dug into his back, leaving half-moons he’d have to inspect in the mirror later. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as he continued his work, going faster and deeper as you begged for more. At least there was familiarity in that; whatever you wanted, Caleb would give you. His balls slapped heavy against your cheeks, the lewd noise competing with the wetness of your cunt.

You were close–Caleb could feel it. Your pretty little pussy squeezed him harder with each stroke, afraid that he’d leave it empty. He could see it in your face too. Your lips trembled worse than your legs, voice shaking as you begged him not to stop, to keep hitting right there.

His breath grew ragged and his control was slipping, body trying to chase its own high before sending you off on yours. He took a sharp inhale. Even though you said he ruined everyone else for you, Caleb would make sure that there was no one else, that when you wanted to cum, you’d come to him first and use him. 

Slotting his hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he found your swollen clit, giving it a light pinch that had you whining. It was followed by a series of ‘oh, oh, oh’s and chanting his name as he rubbed circles on it and continued to fuck you.

Your release was immediate, walls tight despite the tension leaving the rest of your body. Your brows knit together, then relaxed twice before you buried your face in his chest, embarrassed from Caleb telling you that you’d looked so pretty cumming for him.

“Is it…” He groaned, “is it okay if I fuck you through it?”

“Please.” You could hardly catch your breath, feeling yourself going into another orgasm. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. So good to me. I want you to cum again, honey. Just for me. Just for me.” He punctuated each sentence with a kiss, his strokes growing sloppy until he gave up all control.

All you remembered after was getting pulled into Caleb’s chest, his hand gently stroking your hair.

–

God, he was spent, his body taking a while to recover despite his fitness. You laid beside him, snoring softly, one arm lazily draped over his chest, your face buried in his side. 

What would he say when you woke up? He didn’t want to make it a big deal but he knew that you both needed to talk after. He chewed on his lip, fighting with the part of himself that desperately wanted to cling to you and the part that was afraid of losing you. Should he take it back or act like it was nothing? Should he wait, as he often did, patiently going by your cues?

When he was certain you were in a deep sleep, he left, deciding on his answer.

–

You woke up to an empty bed, the sky darker compared to earlier. Where was Caleb? Your heart pounded as you patted the part of the bed where he should have been. It was cold. He must have left a while ago. Through the door, you heard the soft thrumming of the washer and dryer running.

It grew louder and clearer, making you look up.

Caleb stood at the foot of your bed with a basket of neatly folded laundry in his arms.

Seeing him calmed you though your heart still raced. Though he’s seen all of you, you still used the comforter to cover your chest.

“I thought you left me behind,” you admitted sullenly, unable to look at him.

Setting the basket down, he sat in the space where he should have been sleeping. He grabbed your chin so that you’d look at him.

“Do I have to remind you? I’m Caleb, and I’ll always be by your side.”

“And you’ll always love me?”

“Will you always love me?” He countered.

“Always.”

“Always,” he reaffirmed with a kiss.

The comforter that covered you slid down as you broke the kiss, but this time you left yourself exposed, less shy around Caleb compared to before.

“Cold?” He asked, looking at your tits.

Scandalized, you crossed your arms so he’d stop staring at your nipples. That little…!

He held his hands up in surrender. “What? I was just asking because I did our laundry.”

“You probably just used it as an excuse to go through my panties,” you huffed, still annoyed.

“What're you…?" A blush crept up his face to his ears as he stammered, trying to play off getting caught. "How did you…?”

You smiled coyly, pleased with his embarrassment. “C’mon Caleb. Lace g-strings aren’t comfortable at all. You seriously thought I wore them all the time?”

Torn between backpedalling and telling the truth, he ended up choosing the latter. “Well, yeah. I thought with you going off to college, and…”

“You’re such a dummy,” you laughed before pulling him into bed with you.

A/N: I just started playing LaDS a few weeks ago, and ever since Caleb was introduced as an NPC, I've wanted him. I'm freaking obsessed with him and his yearning and his flirty lil lines.

Below is a scene that got cut from the original. It seems like something he would say though lol.

–

“Is it ok that I…?” His eyes trailed downward towards your legs.

“Yeah,” you told him, “I’ve got the implant.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Oh. Me too.”

Which earned him a slap on the shoulder. “That’s not funny, Caleb.”

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