#twice reader insert

[dubusnotes]

Road Trip | Kim Dahyun

⤷ (word count: 7,853)

⤷ (genre: fluff, romance)

It was going to be a simple road trip to San Francisco. Ever since the trip to Hawaii was canceled after your family emergency, the plan changed, and it was going to be that Dahyun and yourself were going to spend a week traveling from San Diego to San Francisco. However, with a popped tire and a hotel booking gone wrong, it seemed as if life kept throwing wrenches into your plan.

⤷ ⤶

“Sir, I would like to ask for you to leave now,” An intense anger slowly brewed from within you as you stared daggers into the hotel manager in front of you. It was safe to assume that you were not in the greatest mood, and it isn’t getting any better with the situation you’re in.

You had booked one of the rooms here an hour ago, the confirmation email still fresh in your inbox. And yet, despite showing the reservation details to the hotel staff, the manager insisted that there were no available rooms under your name.

Not wanting to instigate the situation any further, you grab your belongings beside you and exit from the hotel’s reception area. The humid air in the evening envelopes your cold skin causing you to cringe a little at the sudden rise in temperature compared to the air conditioned room inside the hotel.

You spent the better half of the night scouring through endless hotel listings, trying to find a decent place that wasn’t overpriced. After hours of searching, comparing rates, and reading through questionable reviews, you finally secured a reservation—only for it to be tossed aside as if it never existed. The manager’s dismissive tone replayed in your head, fueling your irritation. It wasn’t just the inconvenience of being left without a room—it was the sheer incompetence, the refusal to acknowledge your proof, the complete utter waste of time!

Your fingers tighten around your phone as you storm toward the car, jaw clenched in irritation. The night had already been long enough, and now, thanks to this ridiculous booking error, it was about to get even longer. You yank the car door open with more force than necessary and throw your bag onto the backseat, your frustration boiling over as you slide into the driver’s seat.

“I honestly can’t believe him!” You slam the car door as you get in, still fuming from the hotel debacle. Your hands grip the steering wheel, feeling the heat of your frustration rising once more. But as you take a breath and look over, your gaze falls on Dahyun, who’s been sitting quietly in the passenger seat the entire time. Her calm, steady presence immediately has an effect on you.

Today, she’s dressed perfectly for the cool, foggy San Diego weather. Her soft, colorful sweater clings to her comfortably, the long sleeves rolled just above her elbows to keep it casual but warm enough against the slight chill. She paired it with high-waisted, faded blue jeans, the cuffs tucked neatly into her shoes. A pair of white sneakers, clean but scuffed from the road, complete the look. Despite the day’s challenges, her outfit somehow makes her seem effortlessly put-together, and the simplicity of it only adds to her charm.

She’s looking at you, her eyes soft yet understanding, as if she’s been waiting patiently for this moment to let you vent, and for a second, the weight of your anger lightens. It’s like her calmness pulls the tension from your shoulders, and the knot in your chest begins to ease. You feel like you can finally exhale.

Dahyun smiles gently, giving you that reassuring look she always has when she knows you’re frustrated. “It’s okay,” she says, her voice the perfect antidote to your irritation, “Tell me what happened.”

You let out a long, irritated sigh and spill everything: the search, the confirmation email, the manager’s denial, the wasted time. It all comes out in a rush as you unload your frustration, and Dahyun listens without interrupting, her attention fully on you.

When you finish, there’s a brief moment of silence, and just as you start to gather your thoughts, Dahyun surprises you. She pulls out her phone and smiles. “I went ahead and booked a room at a different hotel. It’s not far, and I made sure it’s a good deal. We’ll get some rest tonight.”

You blink, caught off guard, “You—what?”

She grins, “You’ve been through enough tonight. I thought I’d take care of it for you.” Her voice is warm, confident, and there’s something about the way she’s always so considerate, always stepping in when you need her, that leaves you speechless for a moment. She tilts her head slightly, an eyebrow raising, “Honestly, I had a bad feeling when you were taking so long on the call before we arrived. I knew something was up.”

You blink, surprised. “You… knew?”

She nods, a soft smile curling at her lips, “Yeah, I could tell. You don’t usually take that long on the phone unless something’s really off.”

“I’m really sorry, Dahyun,” you let out a heavy sigh, your frustration fading a little as you watch her, “I wanted this trip to be perfect. It’s just—everything’s gone wrong so far, and I’m the one who planned it.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches out, placing a hand on your arm. “Hey, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Things don’t always go as planned, but I appreciate the time I get to spend with you, no matter what.” Her words settle over you like a gentle breeze, and for the first time that night, you feel a wave of relief wash over you.

The drive to the new hotel isn’t long, but the tension in your shoulders eases as you pull into the parking lot. The warm glow of the hotel’s exterior lights welcomes you, a much-needed contrast to the frustration from earlier. You shift into park and let out a sigh, resting your head against the seat for a moment.

“See? Crisis averted,” Dahyun teases, unbuckling her seatbelt, “and you didn’t even have to throw hands with a hotel manager.”

You snort. “Tempting as it was.”

She giggles, stretching her arms before reaching for her purse. “Let’s just get checked in so you can finally relax.”

You nod and step out of the car, but the moment you move toward the trunk, Dahyun already sees where this is going. “Wait—don’t even think about it,” she warns, eyes narrowing playfully.

You raise an eyebrow. “Think about what?”

“You are not carrying all of our luggage.”

You scoff, popping open the trunk. “Come on, it’s not even that much. I got it.”

Dahyun crosses her arms. “You always say that, and then you end up struggling halfway to the elevator.”

“That’s a lie.”

“That is not a lie.”

You shake your head, grabbing both suitcases before she can argue further. “Too late. Already committed.”

“Unbelievable.” Dahyun huffs but follows beside you, clearly unimpressed. “One day, I’m gonna record you when you start regretting it.”

“You won’t get the chance.”

“Uh-huh, we’ll see.” Despite her protests, she doesn’t stop you. Instead, she just walks alongside you, shaking her head with a fond smile.

Inside, the hotel lobby is quiet, save for the soft hum of music playing in the background. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, greets you both with a polite smile. “Checking in?”

“Yes, under Kim Dahyun,” she answers smoothly, stepping up to the desk while you stand beside her, still holding the luggage like a stubborn martyr.

The receptionist types on her computer for a moment before nodding. “Got it. You’ll be on the sixth floor. Here are your keycards.” She hands them over, and Dahyun takes them with a small ‘thank you’ before nudging you lightly. “See? Quick and easy. No fights necessary.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

With the keycards in hand, the two of you make your way down the hall toward the elevators. As you wait for the doors to open, a family walks past—a couple with their young daughter, no older than six or seven, holding her mother’s hand.

Just as they pass, you hear a tiny whisper, though not as quiet as the girl probably intended. “Mommy, that girl is so pretty.”

Dahyun pauses mid-step, blinking, and you catch the way her ears turn the faintest shade of pink. The mother hushes her daughter gently, though she sends a knowing smile your way before continuing on.

You glance at Dahyun, grinning. “See? Even kids know you’re gorgeous.”

She groans, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, stop.”

You chuckle, nudging her shoulder as the elevator dings. “What? I’m just agreeing with her.”

Dahyun shakes her head, but there’s a shy smile on her lips as you step inside the elevator together. As the doors close, you steal another glance at her—at the way the soft glow of the elevator lights casts a gentle highlight on her features, the way her sweater hangs comfortably on her frame, and the quiet confidence she carries even when flustered. The little girl was completely right—Dahyun is so pretty. And in that moment, you can’t help but think that, despite everything that went wrong with the previous booking, being here with her makes it all worth it.

As the elevator hums softly, carrying you both upward, a comfortable silence settles between you. Dahyun leans against the railing, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the keycard in her hand. Her gaze flickers toward you for a brief second before settling on the floor, her expression thoughtful.

“You know…” she starts quietly, her voice softer than usual, “I really appreciate you.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden sincerity. “Where’s this coming from?”

She exhales a small laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Just thinking about everything that happened today. Most people would’ve let the stress get to them, but you kept pushing through.” She looks up, her eyes warm. “Even when things don’t go as planned, you always try to make the best of it. And I just… I love that about you.”

Your heart stirs at her words, warmth spreading through your chest. You reach out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say I handled it gracefully,” you chuckle, “you saw me ready to throw hands with that manager.”

Dahyun giggles. “Okay, yeah. But still. You care a lot. And that means everything to me.”

The way she’s looking at you—soft, earnest, filled with something so genuine—it makes your pulse quicken. You take a small step closer, tilting your head slightly. “If you’re trying to make me fall for you even more, it’s working.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. Before she can protest, you lean in, aiming for a quick kiss.

Dahyun immediately flinches back, eyes wide. “W-We’re in an elevator—”

You smirk. “And?”

“There’s a camera.”

“Relax, the only person seeing this is some security guard watching the feed.”

Her jaw drops. “That makes it worse!”

You laugh, unable to help yourself. “So what? Let him be jealous.”

Dahyun groans, covering her face. “Oh my god, you’re impossible.”

You grin, shrugging. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.”

She peeks at you through her fingers before shaking her head with a small, exasperated smile. “Yeah… and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Before you can tease her again, the elevator dings, signaling your floor. As the doors slide open, Dahyun quickly steps out, leaving you grinning as you follow behind, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you.

Stepping into the hallway, you glance down at the keycard in Dahyun’s hand as she double-checks the room number. A few doors down, she stops in front of one with a soft beep from the lock before pushing it open.

The moment you both step inside, a sense of relief washes over you. The room is spacious, illuminated by the warm glow of bedside lamps. A king-sized bed sits against the far wall, layered with plush white pillows and a thick comforter that practically invites exhaustion to take over. There’s a sitting area near the window, complete with a small couch and a coffee table, while a sleek, flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall across from the bed. The window itself offers a view of the city lights below, shimmering against the night sky.

To the right, a door leads to the en-suite bathroom, its frosted glass panel giving a glimpse of the modern setup inside. The polished marble countertop extends across one side, supporting a well-lit vanity mirror, while a walk-in shower with a rainfall showerhead sits on the opposite end.

Dahyun exhales in content, stretching her arms above her head. “Finally.”

You set the luggage down near the bed, rolling your shoulders from the strain of carrying everything. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad?” Dahyun scoffs playfully as she wanders toward the bathroom, peeking inside. “This is so much better than what we almost had to settle for.” She turns the knob to test the water pressure, nodding in approval. “Mmm, I’ve been dreaming about a hot shower all night.”

You smirk, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed. “Too bad I’ll be stuck out here, unpacking all our stuff… while there’s a very pretty woman enjoying a warm shower just a few feet away.”

Dahyun freezes for a moment before turning to you with an incredulous look. “Did you really just say that?”

“What?” You feign innocence, shrugging. “It’s just an observation.”

She narrows her eyes, arms crossing as she leans against the counter. “Uh-huh. Right.”

“Glad you agree.”

Rolling her eyes, she steps past you but not before giving you a light pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for all the hard work,” she teases, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

You scoff. “That was sarcasm.”

“Nooo, it was appreciation,” she insists with a playful grin before disappearing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. You shake your head, chuckling under your breath. Even after a long, exhausting day, she still knows how to keep you on your toes.

As the bathroom door clicks shut and the sound of running water fills the room, you exhale and turn your attention to the luggage. Unzipping the bags, you start sorting through the contents—clothes, toiletries, chargers, snacks. A part of you had been dreading this, but unpacking helps distract you from the lingering exhaustion of the day.

Your hands pause over a neatly folded shirt as a thought creeps into your mind.

This wasn’t how the trip was supposed to go.

You were supposed to be in Hawaii right now, enjoying the sun, the beaches, the endless buffets at the resort. Instead, you had to cancel everything at the last minute after the call about your mom. A heart attack—something you never thought you’d have to deal with so soon. The sheer panic of it all still lingers in the back of your mind. The hospital visits, the constant calls with family members, the sleepless nights spent worrying about test results and doctor updates. The stress had been overwhelming.

But through all of it, Dahyun had been there.

She had stayed up with you during those late-night calls, listening as you vented your fears. She had driven over with food when you kept forgetting to eat. She had reminded you—again and again—that you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, shaking your head slightly as you continue unpacking. Even now, as tired as you are, there’s a deep gratitude within you. Maybe this wasn’t the trip you originally planned, but if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you’re lucky to have her by your side.

Just as you zip up one of the bags, the sound of running water comes to a stop. A few seconds later, Dahyun’s voice calls out from the bathroom.

“Babe?”

You glance up. “Yeah?”

“Would be really nice if you could bring me my shower stuff.”

You shake your head with a small laugh, already standing to grab her things. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

There’s a pause, and then—

“Oh, and by the way…” Her voice is casual, playful. “There’s plenty of room for one more person.”

You freeze, blinking.

A beat of silence.

Then you hear her snicker from behind the door. “Kidding!”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head as you grab her shower bag and head toward the bathroom.

⤷ ⤶

The hotel room is finally still, the earlier chaos of the day fading into the background. Both you and Dahyun are freshly showered, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering in the air as you lie side by side on the bed. Dahyun, wrapped in the hotel’s fluffy robe, nestles closer, resting her head lightly against your shoulder as the soft glow of your phone screen illuminates the both of you.

“Okay,” you murmur, scrolling through the delivery options. “What do we feel like? Chinese food? Korean? Or maybe something simple like burgers and fries?”

Dahyun hums, pretending to think for a moment. “Chinese sounds nice. But Korean sounds even better.”

You huff out a laugh. “Of course, it does.”

She lifts her head slightly, peering over at the screen as you scroll past a few places. “Ooooh, wait! Go back.”

You flick your thumb upward, stopping on the restaurant she caught sight of—BCD Tofu House. You glance at her, already knowing what’s coming.

“This one?” you ask.

She nods eagerly. “Yep! They have everything. Sundubu jjigae, galbi, bibimbap, seafood pancakes…” Her eyes gleam as she starts listing off options. “Oh! And we have to get japchae. And some kimbap! Oh, and—”

You glance at her with a raised brow. “You do realize there’s only two of us, right?”

Dahyun turns to you with an innocent smile. “And?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking your head with a small grin. “Unbelievable.”

She giggles, squeezing your arm lightly before nudging you. “Come on, you know you want all of it too.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue, already tapping to add everything to the cart. Truth be told, you really don’t mind. If anything, seeing Dahyun so excited about food—even after the long night you both had—is enough to make you want to order the entire menu just to keep that smile on her face. As you confirm the order, Dahyun settles back against you, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm.

“Estimated delivery time: thirty minutes,” you say, setting your phone aside.

Dahyun lets out a pleased hum. “Perfect. Just enough time to get comfy before we feast.” You chuckle, wrapping an arm around her as she snuggles in closer.

⤷ ⤶

The road stretched endlessly ahead, the miles melting away as the two of you continued your journey north. The drive so far had been a mix of breathtaking sights and frustrating road conditions, a perfect encapsulation of any California road trip.

Starting from San Diego, you had taken the scenic route whenever possible, soaking in the coastal views and making brief stops at notable spots. Laguna Beach had been a quick but worthwhile detour, the cliffs overlooking the ocean giving you both a moment to breathe in the salty air. Newport Beach followed, where you grabbed coffee from a local café before hitting the road again.

Then came Los Angeles.

The city was as vibrant and chaotic as ever. The skyline was impressive, but nothing could prepare you for the traffic. The moment you merged onto the freeway, you felt your patience thinning with every second. Brake lights filled your vision, and despite your best efforts to stay calm, you couldn’t stop yourself from groaning every time the car ahead of you barely crawled forward.

“Remind me why people live here?” you muttered, gripping the steering wheel.

Dahyun giggled from the passenger seat, barely affected by the madness on the road. “Because it’s L.A.,” she teased, snapping a picture of the congested freeway on her phone. “Want me to send this to your family so they can hear you complain about it later?”

You shot her a deadpan look. “If you do, I’m turning this car around.”

But as much as the traffic tested your patience, the rest of the drive made up for it. Dahyun had taken it upon herself to be the car DJ, curating a playlist that consisted of everything from classic road trip anthems to her own personal favorites. Before long, the long stretches of highway were filled with her singing—sometimes beautifully, sometimes purposefully off-key just to make you laugh.

Watching her, completely immersed in the music, her hand drumming against her thigh to the beat, her voice carrying through the car—it made the long hours bearable. More than bearable. You loved seeing her like this, so effortlessly happy despite being cooped up in a car for hours on end.

“Okay, okay, one more!” Dahyun declared as she queued up another song. “But you have to sing with me this time.”

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. “Dahyun—”

“Nope, no excuses!” she cut in, cranking up the volume as the opening notes of a ridiculously catchy pop song played through the speakers. She turned to you with an expectant grin, her eyes practically daring you to refuse.

With a sigh, you gave in. And just like that, the two of you were belting out lyrics together, the miles slipping away as laughter and music filled the car.

But then—

BANG.

The car jolted, an unnatural thud shaking the entire vehicle. Immediately, you tightened your grip on the wheel, your instincts kicking in. The car lurched slightly to the right, and an unmistakable thudding sound filled your ears.

“Shit—” you hissed, quickly scanning for a safe place to pull over.

“Dahyun, hold on,” you said firmly, your entire body going into emergency mode. Carefully, you eased the car to the side of the highway, keeping control despite the unsteadiness of the wheel. The moment you came to a full stop, you exhaled sharply, your pulse still racing.

Dahyun let out a shaky breath beside you. “What… what just happened?”

You swallowed, running a hand through your hair before turning to her. “I think we just popped a tire.”

Standing to the side of the car, you let out a long, exasperated sigh as you ran a hand down your face. The sedan—your trusted, fuel-efficient companion for this trip—now sat at an awkward angle, the front right tire completely deflated, the rubber torn from whatever it was that had punctured it. You crouched down, pressing your fingers lightly against the damaged area, assessing the extent of the issue. At least the wheel itself seemed intact, but that didn’t do much to quell the sheer frustration bubbling inside you.

First, the hotel mix-up. Then the exhausting drive through L.A. traffic. And now? A popped tire in the middle of nowhere. This trip was not supposed to go like this.

You clenched your jaw, inhaling sharply through your nose as you stood back up, resting your hands on your hips. Just breathe. Losing your temper wasn’t going to help, but damn if it wasn’t getting harder to keep your patience in check.

Dahyun, sensing the storm brewing within you, stepped in. Without a word, she reached for your hand, fingers lacing through yours in a gentle, grounding touch. You turned to her, and when your eyes met, the frustration didn’t disappear entirely—but it eased. Just a little.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go,” she said softly, her thumb brushing over your skin. “But we’ll get through it. It’s just a bump in the road—literally.”

You let out a tired chuckle at her attempt to lighten the mood, shaking your head. “You and your puns…”

Dahyun grinned before leaning up on her toes, pressing a quick, warm kiss to your cheek. “I mean it, though. We’ll be fine.”

You exhaled, the tension in your shoulders loosening just enough for you to focus. Right. No point in standing around feeling sorry for yourself—this was just another problem to solve.

Rolling your shoulders, you turned to the trunk and popped it open. “I need to move our stuff to the backseat so I can get to the spare tire,” you explained, already reaching for the first suitcase.

Dahyun gave you a small nod. “I’ll help.”

As you shifted the luggage to the back, clearing space for the hidden compartment under the trunk’s flooring, you could already see the spare tire tucked away along with the necessary tools. Taking a deep breath, you straightened up, dusting off your hands before glancing at Dahyun.

“Mind giving me a hand with the tools?” you asked, stepping aside so you could pull out the spare tire.

Dahyun nodded. “On it.”

As you crouched down beside the car, loosening the lug nuts with the tire iron, Dahyun knelt next to you, handing over the tools when needed. Despite the inconvenience of the situation, she seemed determined to keep the mood light.

“You know,” she started, brushing a stray hair behind her ear, “this is kind of a rite of passage for a road trip. Flat tire, unexpected detours—just missing a creepy gas station in the middle of nowhere.”

You huffed out a chuckle. “Yeah, I’d rather not check that box.” You carefully removed the damaged tire, setting it aside. “But hey, at least we’re not stranded too far from civilization.”

Dahyun tapped her chin playfully. “I mean, if we were, we could’ve done a survival challenge. Couple vs. Wild.”

You snorted. “Yeah? And how long do you think we’d last?”

She grinned. “Depends—do I get to use my phone?”

“That’s not how survival works, babe.”

She sighed dramatically. “Then I’d give us… two days, tops.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head as you focused back on replacing the tire. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

A comfortable silence settled as you secured the spare tire in place, but Dahyun—ever the conversationalist—kept the energy up. “So, once we finally get to San Francisco, what’s the first thing we’re doing?”

“Took you this long to ask?” You smirked. “Food, obviously. I know you’ve been waiting to hit up all the spots we talked about.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Dim sum, clam chowder in a bread bowl, Ghirardelli sundaes—I’m going to eat everything.”

“I believe you,” you teased. “You’ve been talking about that chowder for weeks.”

“Can you blame me? Fresh seafood just hits different,” she said, pouting cutely after.

You tightened the last lug nut before shifting to sit beside her. “We’ll get seafood, don’t worry. And then, of course, all the sightseeing. Golden Gate, Alcatraz, Pier 39… Might even take you to that secret scenic hike I found.”

“A secret hike?” Dahyun’s eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, keeping your tone casual. “Yeah, figured we could go after we settle in at the hotel. Thought you’d like a quieter spot with a great view of the city.”

Her expression softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “You really do plan ahead, huh?”

“I try,” you said, smirking.

“Well,” she nudged your arm lightly, “I’m looking forward to it. But first…” She glanced at the car, then back at you. “How’s our tire situation looking, mechanic?”

You wiped your hands on your jeans, giving the new tire a once-over. “All set. Not perfect, but it’ll get us there.”

Dahyun clapped her hands together. “Great. Now, let’s get back on the road before another wrench gets thrown into our plans.”

You stood up, offering her a hand. “Deal.”

With that, you both climbed back into the car, ready to keep pushing forward—bumps in the road and all.

› San Francisco Montage ‹

Golden Gate Bridge – The Classic Photo Stop

The moment you parked near the scenic viewpoint, Dahyun was already halfway out of the car, phone in hand. The wind whipped through her hair as she stretched her arms wide, embracing the cool bay breeze.

“Okay, okay, get closer!” she said, waving you over as she set up a selfie. You sighed, playing along, standing beside her as she angled the shot perfectly to capture both of you and the Golden Gate in the background.

“One normal smile,” you warned, “then you can do whatever pose you want.”

Dahyun beamed. “Deal!”

Click.

Immediately after, she switched it up—throwing up peace signs, puffing her cheeks, and making finger hearts at the camera while you struggled to keep up.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

She grinned. “I know.”

Pier 39 – Sea Lions & Sweets

Wandering along the bustling pier, you and Dahyun stopped every few steps to admire the street performers, browse the little souvenir shops, and—most importantly—watch the famous sea lions lazing on the docks.

“They’re so fat,” Dahyun gasped, eyes wide in fascination.

“They eat well,” you chuckled, leaning on the railing beside her.

One particularly large sea lion let out a long, lazy bark, flopping onto its side dramatically.

Dahyun mimicked it perfectly. “Me after eating all day.”

You laughed, pulling her into your side. “You say that, but I know you still have room for dessert.”

“Of course I do,” she grinned. “We’re going to Ghirardelli Square next!”

Ghirardelli Square – Chocolate Heaven

Sitting across from Dahyun at the small table, you watched as she happily dug into a towering Hot Fudge Sundae.

She took one bite, closed her eyes, and sighed in bliss. “This… is life-changing.”

“You said the same thing about the clam chowder earlier.”

“And I meant it.” She pointed her spoon at you. “Great food deserves equal appreciation.”

You smirked, taking a bite of your own. “Fair point.”

Chinatown – Late-Night Dim Sum

Dahyun sat across from you in the tiny, bustling dim sum restaurant, her chopsticks poised as she scanned the bamboo steamers before her.

“Okay,” she said seriously, “if you could only pick one dim sum dish to eat forever, what would it be?”

You thought for a moment before grabbing a char siu bao (BBQ pork bun). “This. No hesitation.”

Dahyun gasped dramatically. “No hesitation?”

“None.”

She narrowed her eyes, then picked up a har gow (shrimp dumpling). “I respect it, but I’m choosing this.”

You scoffed. “Har gow? Over char siu bao?”

“Absolutely.” She popped the dumpling in her mouth, looking smug.

You shook your head. “We’re so different.”

“But somehow, we work,” she teased.

You chuckled, reaching over to steal a dumpling from her steamer. “Yeah, yeah… we do.”

⤷ ⤶

The sky had begun shifting into soft hues of pink and orange as you drove down the winding road leading to the hidden trail. The buzz of the city was far behind now, replaced by the serene quiet of nature. Dahyun had been humming along to the music playing softly in the car, the remnants of the day’s adventures still shining in her eyes.

“You’re really keeping this place a secret, huh?” she asked, glancing at you with curiosity.

You smirked. “Patience, babe. You’ll see soon enough.”

She pouted but didn’t press further, leaning back in her seat. “Well, after today, I trust your picks. This better be as pretty as you hyped it up to be.”

You took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I promise, it’s worth it.”

As you pulled into a small, secluded parking spot near the trailhead, Dahyun stretched her arms over her head. “Ready for one last adventure today?”

You smiled. “Always.” And with that, you both stepped out of the car, ready for the final—and most meaningful—stop of the trip so far.

The trail had been a gentle, winding path through towering redwoods, their ancient trunks stretching endlessly toward the sky, filtering the golden evening light through a canopy of emerald leaves. The air was crisp and carried the faint, earthy scent of pine and damp soil, a refreshing contrast to the salty breeze that hinted at what lay ahead. The rhythmic sound of footsteps against the dirt trail was the only noise, save for the occasional rustling of wildlife in the underbrush.

Then, the trees thinned.

And there it was.

A vast, breathtaking overlook—where the world seemed to stretch endlessly before them. The cliffside jutted out like a natural balcony, offering an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean, its waves shimmering beneath the last rays of the setting sun. The water stretched into infinity, an endless canvas of deep blues and fiery oranges, mirroring the sky above. Wisps of clouds caught the sun’s light, painted in soft shades of pink and lavender, shifting as the evening deepened.

To the right, far beyond the rolling hills and distant forests, the city lay in the distance—San Francisco’s skyline glowing like embers against the encroaching twilight. Tiny golden lights flickered to life, one by one, illuminating the cityscape as dusk began to settle. From this height, everything looked peaceful, untouched by the hurried pace of the world below.

The wind blew gently, cool but not biting, wrapping around you two like a quiet embrace. Birds drifted lazily overhead, carried by the breeze, their silhouettes small against the vast sky. Wildflowers clung to the edge of the cliffside, their delicate petals trembling with each passing gust. The world felt endless and yet intimate—just the two of you standing on the precipice of something both eternal and fleeting.

Fingers intertwined.

A quiet inhale.

Dahyun’s breath caught in awe, her dark eyes wide as she took everything in, tracing every detail like she wanted to memorize it forever. The soft glow of the sunset reflected in her gaze, and though she said nothing, the way her grip on your hand tightened spoke volumes. The wonder, the gratitude, the quiet appreciation—it was all there, written in the gentle way her lips parted, in the way her chest rose and fell, steady but reverent.

Both of you stood there, unmoving, just breathing it in.

The words had been forming in your mind for a long time now, and as you stood there, watching her, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you two, you knew you couldn’t hold them back anymore. The ocean stretched endlessly behind her, the wind playing with strands of her dark hair, the last light of the sun casting a golden glow across her skin. She was beautiful—so heartbreakingly beautiful—and you had to say it. All of it.

You took a deep breath, tightening your hold on her hands before you finally spoke.

“I still remember the first time I saw you,” you began, voice steady but thick with emotion. “Seoul, two years ago. I was wandering the streets after a business meeting, exhausted and hungry, and I walked into that café without thinking twice. And then there you were, standing behind the counter, smiling as you handed a customer their order. I must’ve looked like an idiot when I tried to ask for your number in the worst Korean imaginable.” You laughed softly, shaking your head at the memory. “I was bracing myself for rejection—hell, I was bracing myself for you not even understanding what I was saying. But then you just… looked at me and said, ‘You know, you could’ve just asked in English.’”

Dahyun laughed at that, her grip on your hands tightening slightly, her eyes soft with nostalgia.

“That should’ve scared me off right then and there,” you continued, “but instead, I knew I had to know you.”

Your gaze flickered over her face, catching the way her lips parted slightly, how her expression softened as she listened.

“When we started dating, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. A long-distance relationship never is. But every call, every message, every ridiculous time zone math problem we had to do just to find a good time to talk—it was all worth it. And then, when I finally moved to Korea, when I finally got to be with you every day instead of through a screen… I knew, without a doubt, that I never wanted to be apart from you again.”

Her eyes shone, and though she didn’t say anything, the way she looked at you was enough.

“And meeting your parents?” You let out a small, breathy chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my life. I must’ve rehearsed what to say to them a hundred times over, and yet, the second your dad looked at me, I swear I forgot every single word of Korean I had learned.”

Dahyun giggled, covering her mouth with one hand as if remembering the moment. “You were so stiff at the dinner table,” she murmured, her voice full of fondness.

“I was terrified,” you admitted, grinning. “I wanted to impress them so badly because I knew—I knew—that you were it for me. And somehow, despite my awkwardness, despite my broken sentences, they accepted me. Just like you did.”

Your smile wavered for a moment, your expression growing more serious. You exhaled, your fingers brushing over the back of her hands before squeezing gently.

“And then… there was my mom,” you murmured, voice quieter now. “When she had the heart attack, when everything just—stopped—I felt like I was losing it. I didn’t sleep, I barely ate, and I couldn’t think of anything except whether she’d make it. I was completely unraveling.” You swallowed, your throat tightening at the memory. “But you… you were there. Every second. Every late-night phone call, every time I needed someone to remind me to just breathe. You never let me go through it alone.”

A silence fell between you two. The waves crashed below, the city lights flickered in the distance, and the wind curled around you and her, but all you could focus on was her—the way her lips trembled slightly, the way she blinked a few times as if holding something back.

“And even now,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, “on this trip where everything seems to be going wrong, you’re still here. Still making sure I don’t lose it. Still reminding me that even when things don’t go as planned, it doesn’t matter—because as long as I have you, nothing else matters.”

And then, before she could say anything, before you could even second-guess yourself, you let go of one of her hands and slowly, slowly lowered yourself down onto one knee.

Dahyun’s breath hitched.

Her eyes widened, lips parting in shock, and for a moment, she was completely still—staring down at you as the realization set in. The golden sunset framed her like something out of a dream, her dark hair swaying in the breeze, her skin illuminated in the soft, fading light. She looked utterly stunned, her fingers twitching slightly in your hold, and yet… there was something else there too. A raw, overwhelming emotion welling in her gaze, the kind that stole her breath away, leaving her unable to do anything but look at you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t waver, not now. Not when you had spent every second of the past two years knowing—knowing—that this was where you were always meant to be.

You took a steady breath, your fingers tightening around hers as you gazed up at her—this woman who had changed your life in ways you never would have imagined. Your heart pounded so hard you were sure she could hear it, but there was no hesitation, no doubt, only the certainty that had been growing inside you from the very first moment you met.

And so, with all the love you had for her, you finally spoke the words that had been waiting in your heart.

“김다현, 네가 처음 날 놀라게 했을 때부터, 지금 이 순간까지, 그리고 영원히… 난 너를 사랑해.” (Kim Dahyun, from the moment you first surprised me, to this very moment, and forever… I love you.)

Her breath hitched, her hand trembling slightly in yours.

“너랑 함께한 모든 순간이 소중했고, 앞으로도 함께하고 싶어.” (Every moment with you has been precious, and I want to spend every moment from now on with you.)

Her lips parted, eyes wide, glistening with unshed tears.

“그러니까… 나랑 결혼해 줄래?” (So… will you marry me?)

The words hung in the air between you two, soft and unshaken, carried by the ocean breeze and the fading golden light.

For a second—just a second—everything seemed to stop. The waves below, the distant hum of the city, even the wind curling around the both of you. It was just you and Dahyun. Just her.

And then, she let out a shaky, disbelieving laugh, her free hand flying to cover her mouth as her eyes brimmed over.

“바보야…” she whispered, voice breaking as she laughed again, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. “이건 반칙이잖아…” (“You idiot…” — “This is cheating…”)

But then, without another word, she nodded—frantically, fervently—before dropping down to your level and throwing her arms around you, burying herself in your embrace as the tears finally fell.

“Yes,” she breathed against your shoulder, her voice muffled but full of emotion. “Of course, yes.”

And just like that, the world started moving again, but nothing else mattered. Because she had said yes.

⤷ ⤶

The next morning, the air is crisp as you stand at the hotel reception desk, finalizing the checkout process. The receptionist clicks away at the keyboard, printing the final receipt, while you absentmindedly tap your fingers against the counter. Just a few feet away, near the entrance, Dahyun is engrossed in a FaceTime call with two very familiar voices—Nayeon and Jeongyeon, her closest friends from college.

“You better have been taking care of Dahyun this whole time,” Jeongyeon teases the moment she notices you in the background.

You hold up your hands in surrender, feigning innocence. “Swear on my life, I’ve been nothing but good to her.”

Dahyun chuckles at your response before turning her attention back to her friends. “Honestly? He’s been amazing. I don’t know how I would’ve handled this trip without him.”

Nayeon narrows her eyes playfully. “That’s sweet and all, but I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling us…”

Dahyun bites her lip, a subtle but unmistakable sign that she’s holding back something big. “Well… there is something I want to tell you both.” She leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “But you have to keep it a secret from the other girls. At least for now.”

Nayeon gasps dramatically, immediately jumping to conclusions. “Oh my god. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?!”

Jeongyeon bursts into laughter, instantly jumping on the joke. “No way. Does this mean I’m finally going to be an auntie?”

Dahyun’s face turns a deep shade of pink as she waves a hand at them. “Yah! Cut it out! It’s not that!”

You chuckle, shaking your head before gently placing a reassuring hand on her back. “It’s okay,” you murmur.

She exhales, glancing up at you before finally lifting her left hand to the camera. The engagement ring glistens in the morning light—an oval-cut diamond, set on a thin band of white gold encrusted with smaller diamonds. It’s delicate, timeless, and perfectly suited to her.

For a moment, Nayeon and Jeongyeon are completely silent, their eyes wide as they take in the sight. Then, in perfect unison, they scream.

“뭐라고?!” (WHAT?!)

“너… 너 지금 약혼했다고?!?!” Nayeon practically shrieks, shaking her phone. “이게 어떻게 된 거야?! 언제 일어난 일이야?! 나 당장 자세한 설명이 필요해!” (“You… You’re engaged?!” — “HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? I NEED DETAILS RIGHT NOW!”)

Jeongyeon, still in shock, dramatically clutches her chest. “다현아… 나 오늘 이 소식 들을 준비가 안 됐어…” (“Dahyun-ah… I wasn’t ready to hear this today…”) then, as if snapping out of it, she points at you through the screen. “You! You better treat her like a queen for the rest of your life, got it?”

You grin. “That was always the plan.”

Meanwhile, Dahyun can’t stop laughing at their over-the-top reactions. “I just told you guys to keep it a secret, and you’re already screaming loud enough for the whole city to hear.”

Nayeon waves a hand dismissively. “Please, this is major news. We have a right to scream!”

Jeongyeon wipes away fake tears. “Our 두부 is getting married… I can’t believe this.”

You glance at Dahyun, watching as she giggles, her eyes shining with happiness. Even with all the teasing, you know this moment means the world to her. And to you.

⤷ ⤶

As they drove down the open highway, the hum of the engine and the faint sound of music playing from the stereo filled the space between them. The trip had been anything but smooth—starting from the last-minute hotel booking fiasco to the long hours spent navigating through LA traffic. And, of course, who could forget the damn popped tire? But despite everything, here they were, still on the road, together.

Dahyun sat in the passenger seat, her legs tucked up slightly as she absentmindedly played with the engagement ring on her finger. The way her thumb kept running over the band didn’t go unnoticed by you. Every now and then, she’d glance down at it, a soft smile tugging at her lips, like she was still trying to process everything.

“You keep staring at it,” you teased, throwing her a sideways glance.

Dahyun huffed playfully, but she didn’t stop. “Can you blame me? It still doesn’t feel real.” She turned her hand slightly, watching the way the ring caught the light. “I mean… I knew I wanted to be with you, but you really had to propose on a literal cliff, huh?”

You chuckled, keeping your eyes on the road. “You deserved something beautiful.”

She looked at you for a long moment before reaching over, gently lacing her fingers with yours. “You know,” she started, “this trip was kind of a mess.”

You snorted. “Kind of?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, a lot of a mess. But… it’s also probably my favorite trip ever.”

“Even with the tire popping?”

“Even with the tire popping,” she confirmed, giving your hand a squeeze. “Because no matter what went wrong, you were always there, making sure we were okay. And now…” She glanced at the ring again, her expression softening. “Now I get to spend the rest of my life going on road trips with you.”

You felt your heart swell at her words.

This road trip hadn’t just been about driving from one city to another. It had been about Dahyun and yourself—about everything you two had been through, everything both of you had overcome. The detours, the breakdowns, the unexpected stops… They were all part of the journey.

And just like this trip, life with Dahyun wasn’t going to be perfect. There would be bumps along the way, moments of frustration, plans going completely off-course, but as long as you two were together, you knew you’d would always find their way.

Because at the end of the day, this wasn’t just any trip.

This was your road trip. Yours and Dahyun’s. And it was only just beginning.

⤷ FIN ⤶

And the first story is finished! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe after two years of this story being in the drafts, I finally found the motivation to finish it and release it to the public. I always wanted to take this story and publish it online, but these couple of years have been a rollercoaster of emotions and situations happening.

However, after starting this blog and wanting to start writing again, I just… I just really needed to finish this. I hope you guys enjoyed it and there’s going to be more that will be released in the near future, especially since all of the stories that are under W.I.P have been in my drafts for these past few years now.

Anywho, that’ll be it for me, if you guys want any stories with any of your favorite female idols, let me know! For now, I’ll see you guys in the next story, bye bye!

[teliphone]

Right Hand Girl

Warning(s): Smut, Manipulation

Bestie!Nayeon who is obessed with sleepovers. She loves to snuggle up against you, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Just like how we cuddled as kids,” She mumbles, rubbing her throbbing core against your thighs. Sometimes you would wake up and find her hands resting underneath your shirt on top of your chest.

Bestie!Nayeon who loves to share clothes with you. She even encourages you to wear her panties. She nibbles her bottom lip and clenches her thighs together when she knows the material is rubbing against your pussy. Later on she would rub the panties you wore onto her own cunt while moaning your name.

Bestie!Nayeon that shows you her nudes just to see your pupils dilate when you see her cute nipples. She bites her bottom lip to hide her smile.

“Do you think he will like this photo?” She grumbles. You would nervously nod your head yes. Who wouldn’t like receiving that? In random days, you would receive a photo from her and widen your eyes when you realize it’s a new nude photo.

“Do I look good in here?” She messages. Little did you know all the nudes she takes is just for you.

Bestie!Nayeon who teaches you how to masterbate. Her eyelids become heavy with lust as she watches you struggle with your fingers. You swirl your clit with the tips of your fingers, cheeks turning red.

“L-like this?” You blush.

“…No,” She breathes out, slowly shaking her head. She places her knees between your thighs, spreading you further apart. She then would replace your fingers with her own. She perfectly rubs your clit while watching your face scrunch up in pleasure. Her mouth nearly drools when she feels sees your core leaking out silky juices. She coats her finger with your juice and slides it onto your clit. It helps her fingers move quicker. Your stomach tenses as the pleasure builds up. You reach down to grip onto her wrist to.

“Wait stop,” You pant out. In the beginning she does listen, but over time she will push your limits til you come all over her fingers.

Bestie!Nayeon who firmly believes that best friend should know everything about each other. Such as how each other tastes. She drags her tongue against your slit, making you clench onto the bed sheets. She wraps her mouth around your clit and sucks. Her hands busy with her own core. She thrusts her digits deep into her wet cunt, causing her to moan into you. She playfully flicks her tongue against your clit to watch your expression. You tilt your head back and cry out her name. She lifts her mouth from your pussy and licks her lips. She pulls her hands out and shoves her fingers into your mouth. She feels your tongue swirl her long fingers. Your lips wrap around as you suck.

“Now we know what each other tastes like,” She smiles.

Bestie!Nayeon who wipes your wet cheeks after crying. She slides her arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer. She whispers sweet words while her other hand rubs your inner thigh.

“Shhh don’t think about him. He never deserved you,” She hums. She knew she was always going to win. Who else is going to love you through thick and thin?

Your right hand girl, Im Nayeon.

[faebled-stories]

𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Check out my announcement here.

Main Masterlist

Poll Winner: Praise Kink – Jang Wonyoung, IVE

Day 1: Virtual Reality – Jeon Heejin, LOONA/ARTMS

Day 2: Roleplay/CNC – Shin Ryujin, ITZY

Day 3: Blackmail –  Baek Jiheon Fromis_9

Day 4: Mirror Sex – Park Jihyo, TWICE

Day 5: In Heat – Liz (Kim Jiwon), IVE

Day 6: Threesome – Kim Yoohyeon and JiU (Kim Minji), Dreamcatcher

Day 7: FemDom/Immobilized – Han Julie, Kiss of Life

Day 8: Glory Hole – Huh Yunjin, Le Sserafim

Day 9: Spanking – Jang Kyujin, NMIXX

Day 10: Mind Reader – Kwon Eunbi, Soloist

Day 11: Suspension/Stuck Play – Nakamura Kazuha, Le Sserafim

Day 12: Size Queen – Lee Chaeryeong, ITZY

Day 13: Werewolf – Son Hyeju, LOONA/Loossemble

Day 14: Oral –  Lee Chaeyoung (ISA), StayC

Day 15: Breeding – Winter (Kim Minjeong), Aespa

Day 16: Mile High Club – Oh Haewon, NMIXX

Day 17: Massage – Ahn Yujin, IVE

Day 18: Voodoo Magic – Karina (Yu Jimin), Aespa

Day 19: Face Sitting – Cho Miyeon, G-IDLE

Day 20: Tender/Body Affirmation – Joy (Park Soo-young), Red Velvet

Day 21: Free Use – Eunha (Jung Eunbi) GFriend/VIVIZ

Day 22: Cuckqueen – Belle (Shim Hyewon) and Won Haneul, Kiss of Life

Day 23: Friends with Benefits – Choi Lia, ITZY

Day 24: Tentacles – Fukutomi Tsuki, Billlie

Day 25: Deflowering/Mommy– Irene (Bae Joohyun), Red Velvet

Day 26: Collaring – Kim Hyunjin, LOONA/Loossemble

Day 27: Sex Dungeon – NingNing (Ning Yizhuo) Giselle (Uchinaga Aeri) Aespa

Day 28: Size Difference Kink – Im Yeojin, LOONA/Loossemble

Day 29: Public – IU (Lee Jieun) Soloist. ft Kang Seulgi, Red Velvet.

Day 30: Orgasm Control/NNN – Natty (Anatchaya Suputtipong), KIOF

[cornsoupflavour]

New Collaboration (Twice NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Mina Myoi x Sub!Male Reader

Tags: 4.5k words, age-gap, multiple creampies, possible breeding/impreg

While at a popular variety show, you found yourself backstage waiting for your cue. It was a chance for you to perform alongside your favorite artists and one of them was Mina from TWICE. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of adrenaline and nerves. You'd only seen her through watching other variety shows or managing to catch brief glimpses of her at awards shows. But there she was, standing amongst the other TWICE girls.

You could see the rest of them leave for the bathroom as Mina stayed behind to watch over their belongings and their cue. You decided that this was your moment to make the connection. You walked up to her, braving through your nerves and fear.

"Hey, I'm Y/N," you said, extending your hand to Mina. She looked up from her script, her eyes wide as she recognized you. She smiled warmly, shaking your hand. "Nice to meet you in person. I'm Mina. I've been following your debut for a while and I'm a huge fan of your work."

You smiled, your cheeks turning a bright red. Mina Myoi, popular idol from TWICE knows of your work? Your eyelids fluttered, slightly taken aback by her open admiration. "Y–You know about me? I'm so honoured! I'm such a big fan of you...r work with TWICE and MiSaMo!" Nice save.

Mina giggled at your obvious nervousness and the two of you began chatting. The topics ranged from the things you'd be doing on the show to what you think of the industry so far. The nerves set in as you realized how close you were to performing. You found yourself gradually moving closer to her. Mina appeared to be doing the same, her eyes locked onto yours, neither of you aware of the distance between you closing.

The sound of a bell ringing in the distance broke the trance, signaling that it was time for you to take the stage. You took a deep breath, glancing at Mina before giving her a confident nod. "Good luck," she whispered, a playful smile on her lips as the other TWICE girls returned to stand around her.

You gave her a nervous but thankful smile and sauntered off, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. As the show went on, you subtly glanced at Mina a few times, her beauty somehow shining through all eight other members. It was as if no one else existed for those very brief moments. You admired how she commanded the stage, the energy she radiated. The feeling only grew as you made your way backstage after your performances.

"You were amazing out there!" Mina congratulated, rushing over to you as soon as you were both backstage. She hugged you tightly, her scent enveloping you as she lifted you off the ground slightly. "I'm so proud of you."

You blushed, the sincerity in her eyes warming you from the inside out. As the other TWICE girls went to rest in the designated backstage room, Mina stayed with you. The two of you sat down in a secluded area and ended up chatting for hours. 

Your heart swelled as you struggled to contain yourself. You got to, not only talk with your all–time favourite idol, but she hugged you really nice and tight too. As the night began to wind down, you found yourselves alone, the cast and crew dispersing to prepare for their next filming. That was when the topic of age differences came up naturally.

"So, you're, what, 19?" Mina asked with a playful grin. You nodded, chuckling at the surprise on her face. "And here I thought you were a little older. You're quite mature for your age."

"T–Thank you," you replied with a humble smile. "You're...?"

"The ripe age of 27," Mina said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at you. "But I guess it's the experience that counts, right?"

"27?! No way! I could've sworn you were my age," you teased before continuing, "but yeah, you could say that." You couldn't help but let your gaze linger on her face for a while. Such smooth skin... such pretty lips... You stared at her for a considerable amount of time before snapping out. "You've been in the industry a while, and I could learn a lot from you."

Mina's eyes sparkled, and she leaned in closer. "Anything you want to know, you just have to ask." Her lips grazed your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine as she whispered, "And sometimes lessons are best learned by doing."

The closeness between the two of you was undeniable, and the air around you felt heavy with tension. You subconsciously leaned towards her as she did the same. The scent of her perfume mingled with the lingering smoky scent of the stage, creating an intoxicating mix. You could feel your heart racing, the heat in your cheeks increasing, turning them red.

Mina's hand brushed against yours, and your eyes met, locked in a heated gaze. Both your lips were inches away from one another, something in you just wanted to pounce forward and claim her in a deep and passionate makeout. The weight of the moment was suffocating, yet exhilarating. The silence stretched, and the tension built, growing thicker by the second.

Just as your chest tightened, and it felt like your heart would pound right out of your chest, the sound of voices echoed through the backstage area, snapping you both out of your trance. Mina quickly leaned back back, the grin on her face replacing the intensity that had been there just moments before.

"Guess I better get going," she said, straightening her outfit. "The girls are gonna get cranky if I leave them for too long... but you've got a bright future ahead of you. I'm looking forward to seeing what you do next."

She gave you a final warm smile before she slipped away, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling with the encounter. The memory of Mina's voice, her touch, the intensity of those stolen moments would linger, pushing you to dream and fantasize about what could be. Your admiration for your favourite idol might have just developed into a full blown crush.

Months passed, and you found yourself 'crossing paths' with Mina at various events. Crossing paths in the sense that you'd steal brief glances at her while in a massive crowd.  But each time, the lingering eye contact and flirtatious smiles sent your heart racing. You found yourself always glancing toward her, trying to catch a glimpse of her in between your own performances. There was something about her that drew you in, and you wondered if it was mutual.

After one of M Countdown's award shows, you found yourselves waiting backstage once again. The anticipation of the night's events, and the memories of your previous encounter, made your nerves skyrocket. Mina spotted you and walked over with a bright smile, separating herself from the rest of TWICE momentarily. Her confidence commanded the space around her.

"Oh my, you look amazing tonight," she complimented, her eyes looking you up and down before settling and on yours and never leaving. "It's been a while since we've seen each other. How have you been?"

"I've been doing pretty well," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "A little busy, but it's been great. How about you?"

Mina laughed softly. "Y'know, same old, same old. But I'm glad to see you doing well. You've got a lot of fans out there rooting for you."

"Likewise for you too. Hell, I'll always root for you... and TWICE... yeah."

Mina let out a sultry giggle as the two of you began chatting about various things, from the music you both enjoyed to the latest scandal in the industry. Mina's hand brushed against yours as she gestured, and a jolt shot through you, making you wish that contact would linger. You could feel the tension build between you, the air thick with unspoken desires.

"You know, we should do something together," Mina suggested, her voice soft and sultry. "A collaboration, maybe. I bet it would be amazing. Fans might like that as well, what do you think?"

"T–That would be incredible, I'd love to," you stammered, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Your eyes met hers, and the intensity was palpable. You could feel every nerve in your body tingling, as if electrified by her presence.

A few more comments were exchanged, small jokes shared, and the tension between the two of you grew. Mina leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I think I'll be staying up late tonight, and the girls are gonna be out... Want to join me?"

Your breath hitched, and you could only manage a nod, your mind reeling at the possibility. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and it felt like the world had slowed down, leaving the two of you to exist in a bubble.

"Excellent, I'll see you back here once the place has cleared up a little~"

The conversation ebbed away, replaced by the chaos and noise of the after–event. The weight of the moment hung in the air, heavy and thick, as Mina departed with a wink and a smile.

The night continued to unfold, and you found yourself seeking her out, unable to shake the pull she had on you. Your heart raced with anticipation as you waited for the event to come to a close, dying to deepen connection with her.

The event finally came to an end, and the guests began to disperse, leaving behind the echoes of their laughter and conversations. You met with Mina at the decided spot before she led you back to the hotel she was staying at. Her hand clasped yours as you walked through the empty halls.

"I think a collaboration between us could work perfectly," Mina said as she unlocked the door to her hotel room, gesturing for you to enter. "You have quite the unique sound, and I think our voices would mesh well together."

As you crossed the threshold, the room was dimly lit, the only light filtering in from the city skyline outside. Mina closed the door behind you, the quiet of the moment hanging in the air.

"Have a seat and we could talk about it. Could I get you anything to drink?" she suggested, motioning to the couch. You shook your head as you sat down, your heart thudding in your chest.

"So... what kind of vibe are you going for?" you asked, trying to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, the desire for her still palpable.

"Hmm... How about something that showcases both our styles," Mina replied, taking a seat beside you. "Maybe, a mix of hip–hop and R&B. The lyrics could focus on breaking free from societal expectations and finding one's true self. The chorus should be catchy yet poignant, with a hard–hitting beat."

The two of you continued to discuss ideas, concepts, and possible producers for the collaboration. The conversation flowed effortlessly, your minds mingling as easily as your bodies seemed to desire. As you talked, Mina's hand crept closer to yours, her fingers brushing against yours every now and then.

"Okay! Now that that's settled, I'm really excited to get started on this," you said, the passion in your voice reflecting your feelings for the project, as well as the woman beside you.

"Me too," Mina replied, her voice low and sultry. "Let's celebrate the start of our collaboration~"

Her hand found yours and her thumb began to trace circles on the back of your hand, the contact both calming and arousing. You could feel the heat radiating from her touch as she leaned in, her lips inches from yours. Your eyes were locked on her lips... something about them looked so... delicious... 

"To new beginnings," she whispered before pressing her lips to yours. The kiss was soft, tender, and as it deepened, it grew more intense. Mina's hand traveled up your arm, her fingers lightly brushing against your neck.

You could feel her breasts pressing against your chest as she climbed atop you, the heat of her body igniting a fire within you. As the kiss continued, her hand slid under your shirt, tracing gentle circles on your skin. The pleasure from her touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel your body responding to her touch, your arousal growing with each passing moment.

"Are you ready for our next chapter?" Mina asked, her breath hot against your ear as she nibbled on your lobe.

Your body ached for more, more of this stunning older woman you've admired for so long. The beginning of this new chapter had you both on the edge, ready to embark on a journey of passion and collaboration.

Nodding, you surrendered yourself to the moment, your body eagerly responding to Mina's touch. She guided your hand to her breast, letting you feel her firmness through her top. Her nipple hardened against your touch, the silky texture of her shirt doing little to dampen the sensations.

"Mhmm, just like that," Mina moaned softly, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. She peeled it away, her eyes fixated on your body as she revealed it to her.

The heat between the two of you grew, and Mina's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles that sent shivers through your spine. You let out a soft moan, your body arching into her touch, the need for more becoming almost unbearable.

"So responsive," Mina whispered, her voice laced with desire as she began to unbutton your pants, her nimble fingers sliding beneath the waistband.

"God– fuck, Mina–" you let out a loud moan as her hand found you, her touch adding fuel to the fire already burning bright within you. She began to stroke you through your underwear, her thumb teasing the tip. The rhythm of her strokes increased, and you found yourself writhing beneath her touch, unable to contain your pleasure.

"Mina..." you groaned, your voice thick with arousal. "I want more..."

With a wicked smile, Mina stood up, pulling you with her. She guided you to the bed, her hand stilling on your chest as she undressed. The sight of her slowly freeing from her clothes was intoxicating, and you let out a low, appreciative moan.

"Mina... The woman that you are..." you exhaled, your voice pleading.

"Patience, my dear," she said, her voice sultry and full of promise. "I have a feeling our collaboration will be a hit."

With that, she climbed onto the bed, leaving you hanging, eager for more. The anticipation and the teasing had you on the edge, desperate for the physical expression of your newfound partnership.

Mina laid herself down on the bed, her body twisting and turning ever so slightly, making your cock visibly harder and harder each second. She seductively sat up and beckoned you with her finger, inviting you closer. You climbed onto the bed next to her, your eyes taking in the sight that is Mina Myoi.

"Come here, baby," Mina whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "Let's make some music together."

You couldn't resist, moving closer, and before long, your lips met hers once more, the kiss deepening, your tongues entwining. Mina's hand found its way to your now hard erection, gripping it firmly, her thumb gliding over the head.

"Oh, Y/N, you're such a good boy. You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" she purred, her voice a mix of lust and admiration. "I can't wait to feel you inside me."

You fumbled with your pants, quickly shedding them and your underwear. The anticipation built, and you found yourself hovering over her, your cock at the entrance of her wetness. Mina's legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Please, I need you– Mommy Mina needs you, baby," she moaned, the vulnerability and desire in her voice sending shivers down your spine.

Slowly, you began to enter her, the tight warmth enveloping you. Mina's moans grew louder, filling the room. The age gap between the two of you seemed to melt away, replaced by the shared experience of lust and desire. Within seconds, you had bottomed her out.

"Fuck– I didn't think you'd be this big, Y/N. I can feel your cock throbbing inside me," she cried out, her nails digging into your back. "Harder!"

You complied, beginning to thrust into her, the rhythm growing more intense as you both found your pace. You could feel the slick wetness enveloping you, the pleasure building with each movement. Mina's moans grew louder, her head thrown back, her body arching to meet your thrusts.

"Oh, Y/N, baby, you feel so good," Mina moaned, her voice thick with lust. "You're so hard... So deep... Ravage my pussy, baby~"

Her hands found your chest, fingers tracing circles, eliciting a shiver from your spine. She began to rock her hips, her movements rough and desperate. But after a while, she made you slow down. It was as if she was savoring the sensation, prolonging the inevitable.

"Mina, you feel amazing," you groaned, your voice rough with desire. "I–I need more of you."

Mina's movements grew more urgent, her hips slamming back against yours. You could feel your own body responding, the pleasure building once more.

"God, Y/N, I'm close... Don't stop, Y/N," she urged, her voice breathless. "Give it to me."

Mina's body shuddered against yours, the intensity building between you both. Her movements grew more frenzied, her moans more desperate. You could feel the pressure inside you, the need to release, to fill her, to claim her as your own.

"Y/N– gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... I'm so close," Mina cried out, her voice thick with lust.

You could feel her pussy tightening around you, squeezing every inch of your length, spurring you on, driving you closer to the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies connecting, the wet slap of skin against skin, the cries of pleasure.

"Mina, I can't hold back," you groaned, your voice thick with desire.

Mina's nails dug into your back, her body arching, inviting you to take her to the precipice.

"Y/N, give it to me, fill me up," she urged, her voice thick with need.

With a final, powerful thrust, you let go, your release spilling into her, the pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Mina's body followed, her own climax hitting her like a freight train, her body convulsing, her release coating your length.

"Oh, Y/N, yes, I'm cumming– Y/N! FUCK!" she cried out, her body arching, her nails digging into your back some more. "Fuck, yes, that feels so good."

The two of you clung to each other, your bodies trembling, the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Mina's breathing grew heavy, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

"That was... wow," she panted, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You found yourself wrapped in her embrace, the two of you still joined, the sweat glistening on both your bodies. Mina's hand found your cheek, her thumb brushing away a droplet of sweat.

"Y/N... that was amazing," she breathed, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. "...but I need more. Mommy Mina needs more~"

Before you could even catch your breath, Mina rolled you onto your back, her body straddling yours. She began to grind her hips against you, her wetness coating your still–hard cock. The sight of her, the feeling of her body against yours, sent shivers down your spine.

"I want to feel you all night," Mina purred, her voice dripping with lust. "You're going to breed me, baby. Make me a real mommy, alright?"

Her words sent an electric jolt through you, the idea of impregnating this woman, this idol, almost too much to bear. Mina positioned herself above you, her wetness enveloping your cock as she sank down onto you.

"You're so big for me, baby... I'm so full," she moaned, her breasts swaying above you as she began to ride you leisurely, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Mina–" you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "Please, don't stop–"

Mina's hips began to move faster, her moans growing louder, filling the room. You could feel the pleasure building once more, the thrill of being at her mercy intoxicating.

"Mina, I'm so close... Fuck– you're so tight," you warned, your body tensing with anticipation.

"Cum for me, Y/N," she ordered, her voice a mix of desire and command. "Give it to me. Fill me to the brim."

You couldn't resist, the order sending you over the edge. Your hips bucked against her, the pleasure cascading through you as you came once more, filling her even more deeply than before.

"M–MINA~!" you cried out, your body trembling. As you both came down from the high, Mina's body shuddered, releasing her own pleasure in waves. Her juices coated your cock, the warmth and tightness of her pussy as she came almost overwhelming. You could feel her squeezing you, milking your cock as she rode out her orgasm.

"Oh god, you're incredible..." Mina panted, her eyes locked with yours, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

"Mina... I... mmf..." you whispered, your own breath coming in ragged pants.

But before you could fully recover, Mina's hand found your softening cock, stroking you gently until it began to harden once more. Her eyes were filled with lust, the desire for more evident in every line of her body.

"You're not done with me yet, are you?" she purred, the promise of more in her voice.

You exhaustedly shook your head, your cock returning to its hardened stature. Mina took the lead, turning over, her body arching, inviting you to take her from behind.

"Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her voice a mix of lust and desire. "Fuck me like the breeding stallion you are."

You obeyed, positioning yourself behind her, your cock meeting her wet entrance once more. Mina's nails dug into the sheets as you began to thrust into her from behind, the new angle setting off a fresh wave of pleasure.

"Oh god, yessss~ Y/N, you feel so good... fuck me... impregnate me," Mina moaned, her voice thick with lust.

Her words sent shivers down your spine, the taboo nature of the idea driving you wild. The thought of breeding Mina, this stunning woman, filled you with a primal drive.

"Mina, I'm going to cum again–" you warned, your voice thick with pleasure as you began to thrust harder, faster.

Mina's moans grew louder, more desperate. "Cum inside me, baby. Anhh... Fill mommy up~"

You didn't need any further encouragement. Your thrusts grew more frenzied, the pleasure building once more. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies connecting, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the cries of pleasure.

"Oh, god, Mina–!" you cried out, your body trembling as you poured yourself into her once more.

As your release filled her, Mina's body shuddered, her own pleasure peaking, the waves of orgasm washing over her.

"Oh, Y/N, baby, yes... Y/N, you're going to make me a mommy, aren't you? I can feel it in every thrust. I'm all yours, baby~ Take me." she cried out, her body arching as she came.

"You're mine," she whispered, her body still straddling yours. "And I'm yours..."

"But I want more," she continued, her voice thick with lust. "I'm not done with you yet, Y/N."

Mina disentangled herself from your embrace, her eyes filled with desire as she shifted to straddle you, sitting on your lap. Her hands roamed over your chest, her lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You could taste the lingering sweetness of their previous lovemaking, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want you inside me again, Y/N," Mina breathed, her voice heavy with lust.

You were so obviously drained and tired... But Mina Myoi is asking YOU for a god–knows–what round... You'd be insane to turn that down... You helped her lower herself back onto your cock, the familiar warmth enveloping you as she took you in. This time, Mina chose a more sensual pace, rocking her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard as they brushed against your chest.

"Oh, Y/N, you feel so good– Just like that–" she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Your cock is perfect."

Mina leaned forward, trailing kisses along your jawline, her lips finding your earlobe, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. The sensation only served to heighten the pleasure of her movements.

"I want to feel you deep inside me, Y/N. Breed me like the wild animal you are. Bottom. Me. Out."

The words sent a jolt through you, the primal desire to claim her as your own pulsing through your veins. You reached up, grabbing Mina's hips, helping you both find a faster, more vigorous pace.

"Mina, I... I'm getting close again," you warned, your breath coming in ragged pants.

Mina's moans grew louder, her body arching with each thrust. "Don't stop, Y/N. Fill me up. Knock me up, baby~"

You couldn't hold back any longer. Your thrusts grew more urgent, the pleasure building once more. Mina's nails dug into your chest as her own climax approached.

"Oh, god, Y/N, I'm... I'm cumming– I'M CUMMING~!" she cried out, her body tensing, her pussy tightening around you as her release washed over her.

You couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, you bottomed her out once more as you proceeded to cum inside her, the sensation of flooding her to the brim spurring you on.

"Oh fuck– Mina–!" you cried out, your body trembling.

The two of you clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks of your pleasure. Mina collapsed against your chest as you flopped backwards onto the bed. Her breathing was heavy, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

"Let's just lay here, Y/N," she whispered, her hand reaching up to caress your cheek. "Let's just enjoy each other for now... You made Mommy Mina very happy today..."

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a hot, passionate makeout, savoring the taste of each other's lips.

As the two of you lay entwined, sweat glistening on your bodies, your hearts beating in unison. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of your breathing, the aftermath of your passionate encounter settling around you. And in that moment, there was nothing but the two of you, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[ New Collaboration Pt. 1 – See Pt. 2 ]

[passingnotions]

On Set | Jihyo

smut, 900~ words

You find yourself balls deep in Park Jihyo and in front of a DSLR camera with a very, very bright studio light setup. You both have your knees up on the cheapest couch imaginable—white, tacky, stiff—as your arms hook and pull around hers. Her back has been arched like this for the better part of two minutes, tits presenting (and bouncing) for the camera as dictated by the director. When you finally let go, she moans. It’s performative, satisfactory. But you also know it’s real.

See, you and her go way back. A few years worth. Jihyo has been in the industry for so much longer than you and, despite it having been your first scene together all those years ago, you blew her back out like she fucking deserved—her words, by the way. Phew, that was new. What’s your name again? It stuck with her and you’re vainly proud of that, so much so that every time you’re arranged for a new scene together, she brings in gift baskets and goodies; pampers you in hopes that you fuck her the only way you know—the right way.

As if you’d ever disappoint.

And it’s funny that you’ve never hooked up off the clock—a shame. There’s always a point in conversation, during prep time, where you both laugh at the thought. You have always thought it’d be disastrous in the best of ways. Have to keep the magic on screen, however. 

Something important to note, to digress: this crew sucks at everything. Your agencies both wanted in with a new fledgling studio, your manager called it. Their content is good, consistent, but you’ll be damned if it’s not generic. However it goes and however trite their camerawork, they’re making bank, and you’re there to profit off both of your names alone. 

There’s a before, during, and after to things. The latter two are good: a pretty girl with a pretty face gets railed by some nondescript cock and some part of her ends up glazed white. The former, however, leaves a lot to be desired. Best summarized? Solid creative vision. Near-zero technical prowess.

So, the sound guy needs another break. Something’s off again, he says as you’re mid thrust. The director yells cut for the umpteenth time and you bury yourself to the base to check in with your costar.

“You’re fucking kidding.” Jihyo says under her breath, head turning back to you. She sets her toned arms on the backrest of the couch and lays her head. “How long has it been?”

“Two hours.” 

It should have taken three, but the timer will count four by the end—

You take another long back-and-forth drag inside of her warm, tight cunt.

—Not like you mind.

Jihyo starts pushing back onto it; an experimental one-two, hips bucking ever so slightly with the majority of your cock still inside her folds. You figure she likes the way your balls brush against her clit. You do, too.

“It’d be a shame if—” She shimmies a little side-to-side. “You filled me up and the cameras weren’t rolling.”

Edging for the last hour. How would you say the question lands?

Jihyo snakes a hand under her body to reach for where you’ve started to fuck, slowly, slowly, purposefully. She runs circles with her middle finger, and with a very serious tone: “Keep going.”

Your hands land right where her ass overflows onto her hips when she spreads the knees a bit further apart. Her arch settles. With a long drag back—and a tight grip of that muscled frame—you fuck into her. Once. This firm thrust that makes her whole body shudder. You catch her profile as her lips curl a smile.

“Keep going.” Her fingertips move faster.

And when Jihyo’s asking—“sure”—you keep fucking going.

Okay, the shoot does end up taking four hours, but not because of the staff’s lack of equipment know-how.

You are fucking. Truly, unequivocally, fucking. Like you’ve missed her (you have—she’s fun), like she’s missed you.

The sheer force it takes you to not cum right then and there—to help her reach that ever sought-after climax—is the same force with which you pound Jihyo into the cheap, faux leather couch. You’d swear, later on, how she near melded with the piece of furniture: nail scratches on the surface, the imprint of the seams on her skin. She loves all of it. It’s guilty-pleasure levels of abrasive. You don’t fuck like that on camera. Authenticity can’t be quantified on a payslip.

And for that short amount of time, the set dissipates; the crew vanishes.

Jihyo is cumming—you know this, her tells. Goosebumps all over her skin, from the top of her thighs up to her rippling, reddened cheeks, and the way her moans turn to breathy coos and needy whimpers. You revel in knowing you can split her apart. That same satisfaction ends you in tandem.

Because there’s no other way you would have it, without a doubt. This short burst of fire burns right through your core. Your hands grasp her skin for dear life as your legs cease and stiffen their motion. All of it—the money shot—coats Jihyo’s pulsing cunt in an instant. It sends ripples through you both as you struggle to maintain a semblance of composure. The load washes over your length in this pleasing warmth that has Jihyo shivering through the remainder of her orgasm. Slow quivers. A bit of contented laughter.

“Fuck yes,” escapes her lips before the crew fades back in, curses and yells accompanying an attempt to catch whatever’s left of your unsanctioned stunt.

You’ll take the extra hour.

[cvnt4him]

drawing a silly little version of myself in silly little shows because creating silly little fantasies and daydreaming about silly little characters is no longer enough to keep my silly little mind from exploding.

[rockcandymines707]

A sandwich consisting of Volt, you, and Eddie.

Volt holds your hands, fingers intertwining. Eddie holds your waist, arms a little stiff but chest still pressed close to your back. Both have their lips on opposite sides of your neck, sending warm, crackling energy to tingle down your spine.

Like a jumpstart.

[baelabong]

ｐｏｓｓｅｓｉｏｎ

Pairing: G!p Jihyo x idol fem reader

Genre: Smut w/ plot duh

Warnings: sex, swearing, jihyo being possessive

rq: yes

wc: 1.5

---------------------------------------------------------

The stage lit up as the crowd roared for TWICE’s group performance. Idols seated in the front rows watched in awe at your girlfriend’s group.

Looking at the performance sheet from backstage, you noted that your group was next. With Kiss Of Life’s recent release of “Sticky,” you were excited to perform the song at an award show where all idols were present.

Watching the TV monitor in front of you, you caught a glimpse of Jihyo looking directly into the camera while performing “Set Me Free.” You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and turning your head to the side, Julie leaned down on your frame and rested her chin on your shoulder with a pout, making you smile at her actions.

With Julie still clinging to you, TWICE’s performance ended, and they arrived backstage where Natty and the rest greeted their seniors. Searching around, your eyes lit up at the sight of your girlfriend, only to find her already staring right at you.

Her gaze shifted from your face to the arms wrapped around your waist. Julie noticed their presence and retracted her arms, bowing to her seniors as you did the same.

Because your relationship with Jihyo was private, only known to the company and your members, you just gave her a simple bow, greeting her with a “Good job.”

Bringing her arms around you to give you a subtle kiss on the head, you hugged her back, waving to her members behind her.

“You’re up next, girls!” your manager called out.

Getting your last-minute touch-ups ready, you said bye to your seniors. As the group disappeared, you heard giggles coming from the members, with Sana saying, “Did you all see Jihyo’s face?” The group laughed in response, followed by a whiny “Yahhh!” from your girlfriend.

Getting your in-ear monitors ready, your group stepped onto the platform of the stage, ready for it to lift up.

The lights dimmed as the platform rose, and the crowd's anticipation was palpable. The opening beats of “Sticky” reverberated through the arena, and the screams from the fans were deafening. You took your position front and center, feeling the adrenaline surge through your veins.

As you performed, you could sense the eyes of both male and female idols on you, their attention unmistakable. The energy of the crowd amplified with every move you made, their screams and cheers echoing throughout the venue. You caught sight of several idols nodding their heads and grinning, clearly impressed.

But amidst the excitement, Jihyo’s eyes never left you. She sat at the front of the stage, arms crossed, watching intently. Seeing the attention you were garnering, a flicker of jealousy crossed her mind. Catching BangChan from SKZ whispering something into Hyunjin’s ear while giving you googly eyes she says, “What are these morons grinning about?” her protective instincts kicking in.

The performance transitioned smoothly into “Shhh,” and the crowd’s energy remained electric. You thrived under the spotlight, each move perfectly synchronized with your group. The cheers grew louder, and you could feel the admiration pouring in from the audience and fellow idols alike.

As the song reached its climax, you caught Jihyo’s gaze once more. Her expression softened slightly, but the hint of jealousy remained. She couldn’t help but feel possessive over you, especially with so many eyes on you. But deep down, she knew she was proud of you, her girl, shining brightly on stage. Finishing up with your ending fairies you take deep breaths and your group huddles togethers smiling at the camera, once again feeling Julia pressed up behind you, you pull her closer from behind, making the fans around you scream louder.

—--

As you made your way backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you could feel the eyes of several idols following your every move.

Backstage was a flurry of activity. Idols were congratulating each other, staff members were packing up equipment, and the air was filled with laughter and chatter. You were chatting with your group when Bang Chan from Stray Kids approached, a charming smile on his face.

"Hey, Y/N, you were amazing out there," he said, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Do you think I could get your number? You know, for...collabs or something."

Before you could respond, Jihyo appeared beside you, her presence immediately causing Bang Chan to straighten up. "Bang Chan-ssi," she said, her voice sweet but with an unmistakable edge, "shouldn't you be getting ready for your next stage?"

Bang Chan stuttered an excuse, bowing slightly before quickly making his exit. Jihyo's eyes, once again, found yours. "Come with me," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She led you to a secluded room, away from the prying eyes of both idols and staff. As the door clicked shut behind you, Jihyo's demeanor shifted. Her eyes were lidded, and a dark intensity replaced her earlier jealousy.

"Do you enjoy it?" she asked, stepping closer until you could feel her breath on your skin. "All the attention, all those eyes on you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but she cut you off, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You're such a slut," she whispered, her words harsh and laced with jealousy. "Do you like making them all look at you, want you?"

Her hands moved to your waist, tugging at your outfit. "You're mine," she muttered, her voice low and possessive. "Only mine."

Before you could fully process her words, Jihyo's lips were on yours, fierce and demanding. Her hands roamed your body, pulling at your clothes with a sense of urgency. She pushed you against the wall, her kisses growing more desperate, more possessive.

As she stripped you of your clothes, her eyes roamed over your body with a mixture of lust and possessiveness. "You're so lucky," she murmured against your skin, her hands caressing every inch of you. "Lucky that you're mine."

Jihyo's own clothes soon joined yours on the floor, and she pressed her body against yours, her hands continuing their exploration. "Remember this," she whispered, her lips trailing down your neck. "Remember that you belong to me."

Her touch was both punishing and tender, a reminder of her jealousy and her love. As she continued to make out with you, her hands claiming every part of you, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of exhilaration and surrender. In this moment, you were hers, completely and utterly hers.

Jihyo's eyes burned with desire as she looked at you, her hands trembling slightly as she stripped the last pieces of your clothing away. She kissed you deeply, her tongue exploring your mouth with an intensity that made you moan. She was rough and demanding, but you loved every second of it.

"Get on top of me," Jihyo commanded, her voice husky with lust.

You climbed onto her, feeling her girthy length pressing against you. As you lowered yourself onto her, the stretch was overwhelming, but the pleasure quickly followed. Jihyo groaned, her hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding you along her length.

"That's it, baby," she moaned. "Ride me. Show me how good you are."

You began to move, your hips rolling and grinding against her. Jihyo's hands moved to your waist, helping you find a rhythm that drove you both wild. "Yes, mmhmm," you gasped, the sensations overwhelming you. "Only yours. Please, Jihyo, faster."

Jihyo's eyes darkened with lust as she increased the pace, her hands guiding you more forcefully. She leaned up, her mouth finding your neck, marking you with bites and kisses. The sting of her teeth sent shivers down your spine, but you couldn't care less about the marks she'd leave. All you wanted was her.

Jihyo's control snapped as she flipped you over, taking charge. She pounded into you with a force that made you see stars, hitting the spot inside you that made you cry out in ecstasy. Your moans filled the room, louder and more desperate with each thrust.

"No one can make you feel this good," Jihyo growled, her voice rough with pleasure. "Not Julie, not Bang Chan, not any of those other lame idols."

Her words sent you over the edge, and as she continued to thrust into you, you felt your orgasm building. When you finally came, it was with a force that left you trembling and gasping for air. Jihyo followed soon after, her own climax filling you with warmth.

You both lay there, panting and clinging to each other in the aftermath. The room was silent except for your heavy breathing. Jihyo's arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

"Y'know, Julie doesn't like me like that," you said softly, breaking the silence.

Jihyo chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest. "I know," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But I can't help being jealous. You're mine, Y/N. Only mine."

[unstable-samurai]

Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut

Momo x Male Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial

She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on an emergency light in his mind.

Normally he was the owl of that house.

“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.

No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.

He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.

"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can watch it with you.”

“Did you have fun there?” she asked.

"Yes. Was cool."

“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”

"Just that?

"Yes..."

"No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.

Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.

She paused the movie.

“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”

“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”

“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”

“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”

“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”

“Are you high or what?”

He was too tired to read the signs.

“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.

“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”

"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”

The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.

“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you know what was going on at the party?”

Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:

“Are you afraid?”

"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”

"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also watch the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”

‡

Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.

The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.

‡

“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”

“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”

“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."

“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”

“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”

A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.

“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cellphone to check the time. What is your problem?"

Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.

“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”

"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”

"This again?!”

“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”

“Who was this damn person?”

“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”

“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”

“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”

“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"You know what I want."

“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”

“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, idiot.”

If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.

‡

Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.

Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.

The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.

He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.

“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"

Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”

"I am well thanks."

She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.

"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.

“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”

"Cool! What is it about?!"

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“About a guy living in Paris.”

"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”

"How old are you?"

“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”

Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.

‡

“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said

Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?

“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”

“No” he lied to one of the questions.

“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”

Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.

“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.

“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”

"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”

With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:

“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”

‡

He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.

“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”

"What are you talking about?"

He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.

“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”

"Here?"

"Now!”

Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.

“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”

There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.

“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”

Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.

He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..

“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.

The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.

‡

“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”

She smiled satisfied.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”

It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.

"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”

Momo kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.

“And yet you hurt me.”

He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.

“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”

“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”

Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.

Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.

“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”

‡

He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”

At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.

“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.

He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.

Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.

Something he didn't do.

Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).

“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”

“On your tits.”

It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...

Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.

“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”

“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.

And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.

Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’

‡

It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.

If you really deserve it.

"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."

The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.

"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."

"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."

"I was happy to be with you too."

"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."

"I was a little confused at that time."

"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"

"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”

"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"

"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."

"We always fix things."

"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."

"Come here, my love" he said.

A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖

[effierosier]

room service - Shigaraki/f!reader

summary: Tomura is bedbound and misses your face. Stop being responsible and come over gdi.

tags: fluff, needy boyfriend, thats it

wc: 734

“I will block you.”

An empty threat, but you wish he would at least pretend to take it seriously. You had run back here from the other side of the complex and were still a bit winded when you entered the room—thinking the worst only to find your boyfriend sprawled on the same position you left him in a few hours ago. Tomura rolls his eyes from his massive king sized bed—courtesy of the PLF, only the best for their new leader—and just beckons you to join him. Never mind blocking him, you are going to chuck your phone as hard as you can at that thick head of his. Add another injury to his collection.

“20 missed calls. Really?" you say, crossing your arms. "I thought you were dying or something.”

He looks unrepentant.

“Dying of boredom. Come here,” he mutters when you just keep glaring at him from the doorway. He has the audacity to glare back when you don't move, as if you are the irrational one for not being in his arms already.

“Whats the point of being your second in command if you don't even let me do my job?” you grumble, trudging towards the bed but staying just out of his reach.

Part of you wants to punish him for making you run off in the middle of a meeting for nothing. Teach him that just because you two are dating doesn't mean you are at his beck and call, that you cant drop your responsibilities to go see him any time he wants. The bigger—lovesick, very stupid—part though, softens at the sight of all the bandages still covering his body, and the—deeper than usual—bags under his eyes.

“Most of those meetings are bullshit anyways.” he says. “Tell Skeptic to send an email or whatever if he wants our opinion that badly”

He offers his hand, the sight of his missing fingers still making your heart hurt. You will never understand how he didn't kill Re-destro for that. Or at least cut off both of his hands. It was only fair after all.

Tomura calls your name and pulls you out of those musings, an impatient frown on his face. You give him one last unimpressed look and give in, taking his hand and climbing gingerly on his lap—careful of his broken leg. Once you are settled, he pulls you until you are flush against him, his chin resting snug on your shoulder.

“I need you more than them anyways," he says, pushing his hands under your shirt and tracing patterns on your back. “If you are away all day, how am I supposed to entertain myself?”

You pull back, with some effort, and gesture to the handheld devices that are thrown on the other side of the bed—a beat up DS, a PS Vita, hell even a Game Boy. He scowls and pushes them all away, throwing a few blankets over them.

"Stop being dense." He nips at your ear, making you yelp. He kisses it after, trailing down to your jaw, then neck in that way he knows makes you unable to think of anything but him. "You'd rather be here too. Stay."

He's right. You hate that he is right, yet find yourself unable to argue as your thoughts get hazier by the minute—his hands slipping under your bra, the touch fleeting, teasing. Your nipples harden with the attention but he then decides to pay them no mind, his hands going back to caressing your sides and back. He takes his time, alternating between feather-like touches and pinching the skin near your hips. You bite your lower lip, try to swallow your frustration but he is relentless—taking you apart bit by bit until you can barely remember what had you so pissed in the first place.

Fuck it.

"I'm still mad at you," you say but the small whimper that escapes you right after, when Tomura swipes his tongue over your collarbones, destroys all your credibility. You can feel him smiling against your skin, the smug bastard.

Tomorrow's schedule will be hell with all the meetings you'll have to rearrange, all the minions you will have to throw excuses at for today's absence; but that's a problem for future you. The way Tomura moans and melts into your hands when you yank his hair and pull him—finally—into a deep kiss makes it all worth it.

[peqchsoup]

Please | Q Drabbles Pt 1

Based on prompt 1 on this post by @urfriendlywriter

I wanna start by clearing up some things:

I am not okay

I have not spell checked this (I haven't even read over it truth be told)

I wrote this in 15 mins in a Starbucks waiting for my laundry

THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH Q FICS

Reader insert (reader has no assigned gender)

I haven't written in a while pls go lightly on me but also pls send prompts/requests

Ever since you started working on the set of Impractical Jokers you had grown to enjoy being around the 4 main men of the show. Joe and Murr were like your uncles; they always had your back when your dad wasn’t around. Sal was your best friend- you two would constantly be joking around with each other and playing little pranks. Then there was Q. Brian. You were head over heels for him the moment you laid eyes on him. The two of you joked around in the way that you and Sal did, but with Q it was different. He was like the friend you don’t want to be embarrassed in front of because you constantly want to impress him and make him think the best of you. 

One day you and the guys were hanging around in the trailer at their live show, becoming more friends than colleagues in the year or so you had been there. Sal and Murr were called to makeup while Joe went outside to call his wife and to say goodnight to his daughter. You took it upon yourself to clean up the trailer a bit- picking up empty wrappers and the likes while Q scrolled on his phone. 

You were trying to lose yourself in your task, rather on focus on the fact that you and Q, the guy you’d been crushing on for a year, were alone in a secluded location.

“Hey, y/n, you don’t have to do that y’know? It isn’t your job.” You turned to see Q watching you, eyes floating down over your ass and back up before you would notice. Or so he thought. 

“I know, but you guys are animals and I can’t sit in this filth anymore.” You joked, holding up two shopping bags of rubbish. Q laughed with you and ushered you over, 

“Come on, come sit.”

So you did. He motioned to his phone as he unlocked it to show you the cat compilation video he had been watching. The two of you laughed together, enjoying each other’s company. 

You were still smiling at the video when you could feel his eyes on you. Raising your head, you found Q’s mere inches from yours. He looked to your lips, you looked to his. Your eyes met again and you breathed in each other’s air. 

Hesitantly, Q leaned in to kiss you. Once, twice, and a third time. Small, shy kisses, not knowing if the feeling would be reciprocated. When he pulled back from you, you could see the pleading look in his eyes. 

As you looked at him, you simply whispered, “do it again, please.”

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Twice Buried [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@i06gyu) Center (@@mickisnotclever) Right (@sleepinginthelibrary)

Prompt: Aaron finds out about the depth of pain the reader went through in her childhood and he can’t let the wrongs done to her go without risking their relationship, so he takes matters into his own hands. 

Pairing: Aaron x BAU!Reader, fem!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Angst/Comfort 

Word Count: 14.9K

Content Warnings: Mention of childhood sexual abuse [reader] hoarding, gross bugs, phobias [reader] mention of food and drink, character in distress [reader] mention of death of a family member [reader]. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! It has been a good while since I’ve posted a fic. If you want that whole, what happened in Levi’s life recently story, feel free to check out my other posts. I can’t promise fics will be written and posted as often as they used to be, but I am still writing, and I still love Aaron. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/n had been reserved since joining the BAU. Everyone noticed it. Worse than Emily, who had made a special kind of splash by crash landing ‘by accident’ on the team. But y/n had been far from an accident. She’d been on an arranged agent swap with the General Directorate for Internal Security or the GDIS for short on their anti-terrorism team. After the ‘Je Suis Charlie’ incident in 2015, the U.S. was afraid of similar incidents happening in the States and had sent a few agents abroad to get a better grasp of the situation and then report back to the FBI and the Pentagon. y/n had been one of those agents. When she spotted a similar trend online that indicated that another attack was imminent she acted in time. The information had been found in a private Discord Server which Penelope had helped hack. The ring had been larger than any of the team could imagine, and having y/n on the team had been a help. It wasn’t a long time later before Dave sent y/n an invitation to join the team for a prolonged period of time. y/n had agreed. Getting an invitation to be on the BAU was like winning the lottery, and she hadn’t won anything in her life before, so she wasn’t going to give up this one chance to make something of herself. 

The change from y/n’s original team to the BAU had been a culture shock, even though she’d been on the team for a short time before. Her somber and almost aloof attitude while in the office had rubbed some of the team the wrong way. Aaron had to remind them that they all had a period of adjustment, except for Spencer, who was basically raised in the FBI. All of the original members of the team had laughed at that and agreed with Hotch. However, time passed and yes, y/n had gotten better. She was less aloof, and the team realized they had mistaken that first emotion for a closed-offness that y/n kept herself in. 

She was marvelous at redirecting conversations back to another member of the team, or vaguely answering without really giving any solid details. If their group had normal people, they wouldn’t have even noticed, and it was clear to all of them that y/n’s former team had been the same way too. However, the BAU relied very much on knowing each other, even if it wasn’t all the gory details, Hotch for one had never opened up about his younger years, but hints were appreciated, so they could keep each other safe. 

For example, if the team hadn’t known how bad Spencer’s drug problem had been, they wouldn’t have been able to protect him from the legal ramifications of his actions. They had protected him from that. But over time, y/n had stayed wary and guarded, though she had started attending events with the team outside of work which was an improvement. Finally, JJ stepped in and told y/n, respectfully, if she could just try and talk more to the team. They wanted to know her and cared about what she thought. This had hurt y/n at first. She felt betrayed and that she’d let her new team down. y/n knew JJ was saying this in good faith and not to demean her in any way. She’d experienced that before and this wasn’t that. So, slowly, y/n had started talking more and giving her thoughts on things. She still stayed mostly quiet about herself. Why would remain a mystery to the team for a long, long, time? 

Once when the team was out for a post-case, late-night meal, they were talking about and laughing, and Aaron was sitting across from y/n. He had paid a lot of attention to y/n. In some small ways, she reminded him of Elle, and he felt like he had failed Elle in some fundamental way when she had ‘left’ the team. No matter how much better y/n had become at sharing her emotions and opening up, there were still obvious tells that Hotch could perceive around a topic that made y/n wary. Things like family, or childhood, or the past. When these conversations started, as one had that evening, he watched as y/n’s face fell flat for just a micro-second. When her normally pretty expression changed to this, Aaron imagined y/n as a marble statue whose bright paint had chipped away decades ago. Someone stuck in a moment of anguish forever. y/n always snapped out of it, and the other members of the team didn’t seem to notice it, but Aaron did. He wondered what was behind those moments of affectless expression. It bothered him, but he didn’t pry. He hoped, that when the time was right, y/n would find the courage to open up herself. But he wasn’t going to pressure her into a confession. That was against his moral compass. He knew from personal experience that it was harder to speak about difficult things when pressure was added. 

The team kept trekking on as the summer moved into the fall and a few more facets about y/n were discovered. The team was on a case in the Midwest. A small town off the beaten track where an unsub had been finding more and more gruesome ways to kill people. It was halfway through the case and the team was going back to the hotel to catch some sleep before the start of another day. 3:00 a.m. at a small motel was oddly liminal, and Hotch felt a sense of unease as they all trudged to their rooms. y/n was next to him on the left and he walked with her up the stairs on the outside of the building toward their rooms. y/n covered her mouth as she yawned. She’d told Hotch it was okay, that she could walk by herself, but he insisted he go with her. He didn’t like the idea of y/n walking around outside at this time of night, even if it would be under a five-minute walk. 

y/n could feel her legs lagging up the stairs as she was so tired. She’d done a lot of physical work that day and her brain and body were protesting. As y/n lowered her hand from her mouth and said, “Sorry. Hotch. I’m so ready for bed.” What she was trying to say was that she was moving slowly, slowing him, and his long legs down from getting some sleep. Even though y/n wasn’t very clear with her words, Aaron understood what she meant and was about to say that it was totally fine, but as they reached the landing, an eerily human-child-sounding scream came from the dimly lit parking lot. 

This shocked y/n and Aaron into awareness, and Hotch, subconsciously pulled y/n quickly behind his body. He could feel how tense y/n was. How on edge as her hand brushed his side to look around his body. He held his hand out to the side to keep her back in case it was a dangerous situation. Thankfully, a long second later, there was a thump and another sound as a skinny coyote scampered away from the dumpster in the corner of the lot. Both Aaron and y/n deflated and Hotch turned to look at y/n, and they both chuckled at how frightened they had been at the presence of an animal. They finished getting to their rooms and y/n raised a hand saying, “Night Hotch. See ya in the morning.” Aaron shot her a hint of a smile and said, “Sleep well, y/n.” 

Aaron moved into his room and turned on the lamps. The walls were paper thin in the motel, and he heard as y/n moved around in her room just a wall away from his. Apart from that it was relatively quiet for a bit as Hotch got out of his black slacks and into the grey sweatpants he normally slept in during cases. They were soft and worn in a way he liked. He had just slipped on his classic white short-sleeved shirt from his suitcase and was just moving toward the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth when there was a yelp from y/n’s room, then a crash and the hurried steps of y/n running toward her door. He heard the rusty hinges scream as y/n moved outside and he wasn’t far after her. Outside he caught y/n putting her hand on her chest, breathing heavily and looking more than a little distraught. Before he could ask if everything was alright, Morgan came dashing up next to y/n and placed a hand on her back asking in his husky voice, “Everything alright, y/n? What’s going on?” Morgan was panting too as he had run up the stairs when he’d seen y/n come out of her room the way she had. 

y/n cleared her throat and forced herself to visibly relax and take a breath before saying, “It’s nothing really, just a bad bug. Sorry, I might have overreacted.” Hearing this Derek let out a large laugh and said, “Wow, you really had me scared there for a second. Who knew that you could be scared by a bug? You’re always so stoic, y/n.” Hotch watched y/n laugh, but he could tell it was fake. Morgan continued, “What was it y/n? A spider or a scorpion? Want me to get it for you?” y/n smiled at the ground and said, “Nah, it’s fine. Thanks for the offer, Morgan. I was just surprised when I opened the bathroom door is all.” Derek shook his head and said, “Alright, well if you find any more nasty surprises in your room you just give me a call and I’ll sort it out for you.” y/n nodded and said, “Will do, Derek. You’re the best.” Morgan nodded and gave y/n a pat on the back and then moved past Hotch to get to his own room. 

Aaron caught that y/n hadn’t elaborated on what the bug species was, and he noticed that she seemed to greatly relax once Morgan had made a joke of the whole situation which was clearly adversely affecting her. Once Derek was in his room, Hotch checked in saying, “What was it, y/l/n?” y/n’s head snapped up as if she’d forgotten he was there. y/n dropped her eyes to the ground again and said, “I don’t want to say it Hotch.” Aaron nodded and gently replied, “Does it start with an ‘r?’” y/n cringed but nodded yes. Aaron let out a breath and said, “You want me to get it for you?” After a moment, y/n looked up at Hotch, and he could see that she was embarrassed for being in this situation in the first place. Hotch moved a hand to y/n’s elbow and said, “y/n, I don’t mind. I know they’re gross.” Finally y/n looked at him and said, “Okay. Thanks, Aaron.” Hotch nodded and stepped inside. He kept his eyes mostly trained on the open bathroom door which light was spilling out of. He couldn’t help himself from seeing some of y/n’s more private clothing items on the bed before he moved his eyes safely to the stained carpet. 

In the bathroom, the roach was comfortably hanging out on the wall near the sink. It was like the bug sensed Aaron’s presence and quickly and unnervingly moved off the wall and toward the shower. Hotch grabbed a handful of toilet paper to get the bug. He pulled back the clear plastic shower curtain and the roach moved again to the nearest dark corner. Aaron didn’t like these bugs either. It was something about the way they moved that freaked him out slightly, but he was older, and a man, and he didn’t mind doing this for y/n if it made her feel better. With a decisive move from his hand, Aaron caught the bug in the white paper and he didn’t pay attention as the bug’s body made a crunching sound as he closed his hand around the paper. He quickly threw the chitinous corpse into the toilet and flushed it away before closing the lid and stepping back through the room. He scanned the room to make sure there weren’t any more surprise bugs and he noticed the shattered lamp which y/n must have tipped over when she ran from the room. He strode across to the side of the bed, picked up the small trashcan, and moved back to the shattered pieces of the lamp.

Aaron didn’t notice as y/n, who had been standing at the threshold of the room dropped her hands from covering her mouth, as she chewed on her nails, a nervous tick of hers, and back to her sides. She walked back into the room and next to Hotch and said, “Hotch, you don’t need to do that. I can sort it out. I’m sorry.” Aaron finished picking up the largest parts of the lamp, careful not to cut his hands on any of the glass. Only after he had finished this did he stand and say, “It’s not a bother, y/n. I’m happy to help. You should call the front office and have someone come and get the rest of the glass this morning, and if you use the restroom in the middle of the night, at least what’s left of it, make sure to wear shoes.” y/n nodded timidly, and exhausted and tried not to think about Hotch thinking about her moving around her room in the middle of the night. “Thanks again,” she said as Aaron moved to the door and shut it for the last time that night. 

Once Hotch was out of the room, y/n lay back on the bed so tired that she thought she might fall asleep right then and there. She thanked her guardian angel that she hadn’t seen the bad bug before she’d taken off her pants, because she would have run outside her room with or without pants on, and the idea of Derek, and more significantly, Aaron, seeing her in her underwear, she’d never live it down. After a moment, y/n turned her head to the door which she’d need to lock, and then toward the bathroom, which she still needed to use before she could fully relax. But given the bug and its essence that was left of it, no matter how small, y/n didn’t want to go back to the bathroom. She didn’t want to leave the bed. If she was younger, she’d have tucked her legs into her chest and stayed there for the rest of the night with all the light burning until the dawn sun illuminated her room in shades of pink and orange. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore, and she did get up and lock the door. She did put on shoes, as Aaron had suggested which felt good. It was nice and meant no glass pierced the soles of her feet and it meant she was off the ground. y/n knew this was silly, a coping technique she’d built for herself over the years, but it did give her the strength to quickly wash her face, brush her teeth, and put patches on her acne. By the time this was done, y/n moved back to her bed, turned off the lights, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

In his room, Aaron moved back to the bathroom and took a shower before getting under the covers. He looked at the ceiling and realized that he’d learned more about y/n in his interaction with her that evening than he had in their whole time as Unit Cheif and supervisor. He pondered if he was wrong for wanting to know more about y/n. Why she was so closed off? What it was that she had to hide. He couldn’t help himself for thinking it was funny that she didn’t like bugs, but he couldn’t blame her for it either. It was never fun to have unwanted company, human or otherwise. He fell into the oblivion of sleep with a look of shame and perhaps gratitude as y/n had let him go into her room and take care of her unwanted guest. 

Aaron didn’t make many more discoveries about y/n until a month later when it was close to 5:00 p.m. and he was sitting in his office. There was a soft knock on his door and he looked up to see y/n peaking into his office. He sat up a bit straighter and said, “Come in, y/n. Do you have a question about something?” y/n shuffled into the room and kept looking at the floor before she finally raised her eyes and met his. He could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek before she said, “I have a favor to ask you if you’re willing. If it’s too much then no worries at all, you just seemed like the right person for this problem I’m having.” Hotch’s eyes widened in surprise. What could y/n possibly need from him that someone else couldn’t offer? He hoped his intrigue didn’t play out on his face as he motioned for the chair across from his desk and said, “Well, let me know what we’re dealing with and then I can let you know. Is it a work thing? Please tell me it’s not a Drake-type of situation again, is it?” He was concerned now and looked at y/n’s face closely for signs of distress. 

Drake had been an agent, who was quickly reassigned to a small HQ in Seattle who had made some untoward comments toward other female agents, including y/n. It had been y/n who had gone to JJ, and JJ who had gone to him to reveal the whole situation. When Aaron heard this he got so angry that he stood, placed his hands on his desk to steady himself before he sat back down, and asked JJ to tell him everything she knew as he grew more and more disgusted by some of the male agents in the building. He’d taken the situation to HR and made sure that y/n nor any of the other female agents were named in the official complaint before going to Strauss and basically demanding a transfer for Drake or outright termination. 

Aaron was thankful when y/n nodded her head no and said, “No, Sir. Nothing like that,” as she sat across from him. He pushed aside his laptop so that there wasn’t anything blocking their view and he waited for y/n to say what had brought her in. After a moment of silence y/n let out a breath and said, “It’s really silly, actually…” Hotch stopped her from continuing by leveling a friendly glare at y/n which made her stop and try again. y/n swallowed and said, “Well, last month there was a leak in my apartment that never got fully fixed. It was livable, but I think there’s mold in my unit now which I think has made me sick again and off again for the last two weeks. I need to get it tested, but I was wondering if there was something in my lease that I might use against my apartment complex to break my lease?” y/n looked over at Hotch. His large brown eyes only seemed more intense in the low light of his lamps. She knew he was listening to her, wanting all of the pieces of the puzzle she was trying to tell him so he could help her. That was one thing y/n loved about Aaron. He never ignored anyone on the team or anyone in need of help, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed some help. y/n continued by saying, “And, well, I’ve tried reading my lease a few times but it doesn’t make any sense to me. There is a clause about mold, but I can’t figure out the legal jargon. I was wondering if you could read it over for me if it’s not too big a bother.”

Hotch could see y/n rubbing her hands together softly on her legs, a self-soothing gesture she was prone to when y/n was stressed. He let out a little breath and said, “Of course I can, y/n. I’d be happy to help you.” He paused before adding, “I can also probably fix your leak issue while we work out the logistics of the lease. If there is mold, and you did get sick from it, there might be grounds for a civil suit, if you wanted to take legal action that is.” y/n’s face settled into one that was relaxed, and replied, “I’m not sure if I have the energy for that. I don’t even know if I have the energy to move. I’d just like to have the option. To know that I have an option.” Hotch nodded in understanding but didn’t say that. Instead, he stated, “Well, how about we set up a date for me to look over the lease and or your apartment if you want? I’m open this weekend if that works for you?” Hotch felt strange almost inviting himself into her home. He could easily read y/n’s lease in the office, but something told him not to. 

Although Hotch was far from a Marxist he didn’t believe in bringing personal work into the office. He would happily take office work home, but not visa versa. Also, by throwing out an open date for him, which he didn’t often have, he hoped y/n would realize that he did want to help her, not only with her legal issues but with her apartment which was apparently falling apart and making her ill. The idea of that bothered him more than it should have. Aaron was forced from his own head when y/n said, “Yeah. That works for me. Um, what time would you like to come over?” Surprised that y/n would let him of all people, into her space he replied, “How about 9:30? Is that too early for you?” Again Aaron was faced with the fact that he hardly knew anything about y/n. Did she wake up late on the weekends like Reid? Did she work out like he and Morgan did? Did she go out with friends to brunch like Emily? Did she have a boyfriend or girlfriend to wake up to like JJ did every morning? Not all of this information about his teammates had just been told to him, but he knew it nonetheless, and being so bereft of details about y/n’s life made him feel like he knew nothing about her, even if that wasn’t true.

Aaron’s eyes moved up as y/n said, “Hotch, Hotch. 9:30 is great for me. Is it okay with you?” Hotch felt awkward having been caught unaware twice by y/n in the course of under an hour. Aaron replied, “Yes. Sorry, I’m distracted today, y/n. Can you text me your address and I’ll put it in my calendar?” y/n smiled and replied, “Sure thing, Hotch. Thank you for the help.” Aaron nodded and said, “Let me know if you need a place to crash before Saturday. I bet the Bureau can get you a hotel room or something. I don’t think staying in a place that might be making you sick is in the best interest of the department, or my agent.” y/n tried to hide her smile at Aaron’s concern for her. He was trying to mask it too, but not very well. She told him she’d let him know and left his office feeling better than she had in some time. 

That Saturday was the first time that Aaron saw y/n’s apartment. As y/n walked him toward the AC unit that had been leaking, he tried to look around without it looking too obvious. His eyes scanned the kitchen and living room and then he moved into y/n’s small bedroom. They were chatting about their days so far, and as Aaron sat down on the floor, y/n handed him Philip’s head screwdriver to remove the grate from the crawl space below her AC. y/n asked, “So you really run five miles every Saturday morning? How do you deal with the heat? I’m tempted to just stay in all the time during summer.” Aaron let out a chuckle and said, “I think you build up the tolerance. And I wear a lot of sunscreen. They say fresh air is good for you, especially if you’re living in an apartment with mold.” Hotch had meant the statement as a joke, but when y/n didn’t laugh, he bit his tongue and hoped he hadn’t offended her. He didn’t mean to, but by the time he was formulating a response, he noticed the drip and the simple fix to the issue. An issue that the repairmen who had been there a few times already should have easily fixed weeks ago. He grunted slightly as he inched his way forward on his elbows with a wrench in one hand and a flashlight in the other. 

This time in the small space did give him the opportunity to think about y/n’s place a bit more. It was old but decently maintained, and it was clean. When he’d done the walk to get to this part of the house, he hadn’t thought much about it. But now as he saw normal signs of an older building, cobwebs, stains, and dust, he realized he’d seen very little of that in y/n’s space. It was like the apartment was staged, waiting for the photographers to come from Architectural Digest to get their pictures and get her opinion on the Pantene color of the year. y/n didn’t have a lot of things. Her furnishings were sparse but looked comfortable enough. But inside, Aaron had the feeling that maybe somewhere, storage, the attic - there wasn’t one - a closet, there were boxes of things that gave meaning to y/n’s life that she’d neglected to put out or up. Hotch sighed as he tightened the bolt that was allowing water to drip down the side of y/n’s pipes. There were multiple spots like this. It would take a while and some maneuvering on his part, but Hotch didn’t mind. This reminded him of his first apartment in college, but that was much more of a mess. Living with three other guys, it was bound to happen, even if he kept his space relatively clean. 

It took Hotch a few minutes to finish up the work on the leaks before he wriggled back into the bedroom. y/n extended a hand to him, and he took it as he stood with a small grunt. He was happy he hadn’t changed out of his workout clothes because being in such a confined space had made him even more sweaty. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and said, “Well, I think I have it all fixed down there, except for a small puddle from the leak. I can clean that up for you if you like.” y/n nodded her head no and said, “It’s fine, Hotch. You’ve done so much already, I can clean it up in a moment. I’m a bit, picky, with my cleaning habits.” Aaron nodded and said, “I get you. Reid is the same way.” y/n gave an understanding nod, and Hotch looked over y/n’s shoulder to the pictures neatly framed on y/n’s far wall. There were a few with y/n and some friends, maybe some from college and a few from her years in Paris. The photos had good composition even if they were only shot on an iPhone. Even though he had said it, Aaron knew Spencer wasn’t the same as y/n. They both cared for cleanliness, that was obvious, but there was something different about y/n that he couldn’t pin down. Some facts that he felt he was missing. 

Aaron wiped his dusty hands on his shorts and y/n said, “Do you want to wash your hands? Who knows what kind of gross stuff is under there.” She eyes the open grate and Hotch replied, “Yes, please. It’s not actually that bad down there, just dust mainly.” He chose not to talk about the spider webs, given y/n’s aversion to bugs. He’d swept away the webs anyway so she wouldn’t have to see them. y/n pointed Hotch to the door of the bathroom and he stepped inside closing the door He took a minute to look at his reflection. He didn’t look as sweaty as he felt, which he was grateful for. ‘Why does it matter?’ Aaron asked himself as he rinsed off his hands and then added a generous amount of hand soap into his palms. As he lathered the soap and then rinsed it off Hotch tried to quell the thoughts which had subconsciously been growing since he’d seen y/n looking frightened at the motel. If he tried hard enough, he could play them off in his head as protective, a fatherly gesture, but in his spirit, he knew this wasn’t true. Hotch dried his hand and pushed his hair around a bit until he liked how it sat. His ego nudged him whispering, ‘Vanity, Hotchner.” He snorted slightly and left the bathroom before he could get more in his head about his appearance. That wasn’t the point of him being here in the first place. 

By the time Aaron stepped back into y/n’s room, she had added three of the four screws back on the grate and into the wall covering the gaping hole that had been there. y/n looked up at him and smiled as she said, “Well now that you’ve helped me fix the leak I don’t think I have a reason to sue the landlord.” Hotch pressed his lips together before replying, “Well that might be true, but I think if your apartment is using a subcontractor for maintenance you could sue them for not knowing how to do their jobs.” y/n chuckled but as a big fan of not having any extra confrontation in her life, she didn’t think she’d be taking Hotch up on that offer. Instead, she asked, “Could I pay you back with a coffee, Hotch? There’s a good spot two blocks over. I was going to go there anyway to hang out for a bit.” Before the logical or even aware part of Aaron’s mind could respond he said, “You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?” His self-consciousness side blurted out what he was trying to avoid thinking in the bathroom. For a second Aaron felt like chucking himself out y/n’s bedroom window as he internally cringed so hard that his stomach hurt. 

y/n took a moment to process what Aaron had said and she stopped herself from scratching the back of her head in confusion. “‘You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?’” What the hell did that even mean? Did Hotch know how he looked? How her seeing him in something that wasn’t a suit had almost taken her breath away and sped up her heart rate three times past normal? She had thought as he worked on her AC, his body half buried in the wall, ‘He could send out a warning if he’s not going to show up in a suit. Good god, give a girl one chance not to be fucking lusting over her boss.’ She had been embarrassed by the thought, as Hotch clearly was embarrassed now. To not make the situation any more strange than it was and tried humor saying, “You mean like a guy wearing shorts and a Nike shirt?” y/n never knew if jokes would work with Aaron. He seemed to have a very sharp wit and she never knew where jokes would land with him. Thankfully this one worked and Hotch let out one of his rare laughs, shaking his head slightly at his inability to keep unwanted thoughts in. At least he hadn’t made a comment about y/n, who he thought looked lovely in her more relaxed outfit. After a moment of silence, he blinked and said, “Well alright then. You lead the way, though your apartment should be paying you for having to deal with this.” y/n chuckled and grabbed her purse as Hotch got his keys and wallet from the counter. They spent the next half hour chatting comfortably about work or people in the office, and whatever came up naturally. It was pleasant for both of them to just be allowed to relax in the presence of the other for once. When they had finished, Aaron thought for a moment that he understood y/n better. He did, but the most enlightening thing he would learn about y/n would come later in the year, and when it did, it hit Hotch like a load of bricks. 

It was September, and the weather was just starting to get cool in Virginia. The crispness of the air had the team in mostly good spirits. The latest cases had been easier.  Hotch was sipping his coffee from a cup Jack had given him for Father’s Day last year when there was a knock on his office door. He looked up from the rim of his cup to see y/n pop into the room and close the door behind her. After he’d helped her with her apartment, she had been more relaxed around him, and came to him every now and then with questions she still had about past cases or current files the team was supposed to do. The forms were often asinine and useless you’d been working in the department for years. Every time y/n made an appearance, Hotch had to settle himself and act calmly. It reminded him so much of the first time y/n had asked him for a favor. When she had been a new agent and afraid to disappoint him and the rest of the team. But this time was different and he could tell. This wasn’t y/n being shy to ask for help, or ‘checking in on him’ as she said when she had no reason to be in his office but inexplicably wanted to be there anyway. When y/n stepped in there was no attempt at a dad-joke. Instead, she was looking at his carpeted floor and there was an aurora of burden that came with her. 

Hotch was up and out of this chair before the words, “What’s happened, y/n?” left his mouth. y/n swallowed dryly and looked up at Aaron. He could see her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. y/n sniffled and stepped forward, leaning against the edge of Aaron’s desk as she said the easy part first, “I need some time off. A week or so, maybe more.” Hotch nodded his head in understanding saying, “Of course, you can get all the time you need. Can you tell me what happened, please?” There was silence, and y/n looked at her hands as she shakily replied, “My mom died yesterday. She made me the executor of her estate, so I need to go down to her house and work some things out with her will.” Hotch moved from his side of the desk to y/n’s and gently wrapped her in a hug. He could feel her shaking against him. He held her without much force, just giving her something softer to cling to than the sharp edge of his oak desk. y/n was grateful that Aaron had moved to this position. That she didn’t have to look at his face which was filled with worry. And she could not only hide her sadness but also her shame in the crook of his neck and shoulder. After a comfortable amount of time, y/n stood back and asked, “Can I leave now, or do you want me to stay till the EOD?” Hotch’s grip on y/n’s arms tightened slightly as he looked down at her and said, “Of course, you can leave now. I’ll send HR a memo. The team will help you if you want y/n. I’ll help you with anything you need. You just have to ask.” 

y/n sniffled and ran her hand under her nose which she knew was unbecoming of a federal agent, but she was past spent and decorum had seemed to go out the back door with the news that she would need to return to her childhood home. A place she had avoided for many years now. Her behavior repulsed her, expanded by her sense of shame. She didn’t want anyone with her for this. No one could see, and no one on the team could know. Still looking down, y/n said, “Thank you, Hotch. Can you just tell the team that a family emergency came up? This situation, it’s, it’s private, and I think I need some time to just get my head around it.” 

Hotch nodded in understanding. He had had moments when the rug had absolutely been ripped from underneath him. Aaron felt that there was something more going on, but he knew now was not the time to pry. Instead, he said, “Yes, of course, y/n. Can you just send me the address of the spot you’ll be staying at so I can give it to HR. They’ll ask you for it anyway, so if you let me know I can help you skip that step.” y/n looked at Hotch and said, “Sure Hotch. Thanks. I’m just going to get my stuff and go.” Aaron let y/n go and he watched her walk to his door, turn, and raise a hand half-heartedly before saying, “Thanks,” one more time and slipping out the door as quietly as she had come in. 

Hotch felt a tug at his chest. There was a small feeling of dread that he couldn’t not feel after y/n had left the room which made it hard for him to do anything else than send the forms to HR on y/n’s behalf. He leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. He hadn’t once heard y/n talk about her parents. He knew that they had existed. It was on her transfer paper and application to the BAU. Clearly, the government had to know pretty much everything about a person to hire them into the inner ranks. But unlike Reid and Morgan, and occasionally Emily, y/n didn’t relegate any details about family around the team. He had always pictured her as an island, alone. At that moment Aaron decided that he would check in on y/n often in her absence. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin the trust they had slowly built between them, but his conscious wouldn’t let him not make sure she was okay because something inside him told him there was more going on here than simple grief. That feeling only grew worse as three days passed and y/n didn’t answer any of his calls and only one of his texts asking if she was okay, or if she needed anything. He’d offered to send her food, or coffee, or anything to her hotel, but there had just been one text: “Sorry Hotch, I’m too busy to think about this right now, thanks for the offer, I’ll take you up on it once I have more finished.” 

On the fourth day, a Saturday, Hotch couldn’t take the silence anymore. He knew he was pushing it, but he had y/n’s hotel address and the address of her mom’s house because she said she’d be at both pretty often working on things. Aaron thought it was absurd that the FBI still asked for a mailing address when someone went on leave. It was like asking for a fax number when everyone had a cell phone in their pocket. That was what made y/n’s non-response so jarring. As Aaron put the second address into his GPS, he was surprised to see that it was only a forty-five-minute drive away. He considered that y/n probably could have stayed at her apartment if she wanted to, but as Aaron got further from the city and into the exurbs, past the exurbs even to roads in disrepair, closed CVS’s franchises, and mobile homes, he realized that this juxtaposition from the luxury and safety of the city to this could be exhausting apart from all the emotions and work she was doing. Aaron wasn’t exactly surprised by what he saw as he got further and further away from Quantico. He knew the makeup of Southwestern Virginia, but the poverty of the area never failed to make him take a hard look at what had once been a thriving community. He didn’t want this part of y/n’s past to affect how he saw her. Not that he’d ever judge her for living in a place like this, but with her life being so guarded, he couldn’t help but make assumptions about why she had remained quiet so often. 

When Hotch got the the far edge of one of the many trailer and mobile home parks it was easy to find y/n even if she hadn’t answered his two calls that morning. The only thing Aaron needed to see, y/n’s old car, was parked outside of the mobile home at the far edge of the plot. There was no house number or mailbox to indicate he was at the right place, but he knew he was. He parked beside y/n’s car and stepped out of his. As he walked closer to the house and locked his car doors he noticed the very rundown state of affairs at the domicile. Most of the windows were covered with cardboard and mildew was creeping up the edge of the fake wood siding of the housing. A few feet away from the front screened door the small assaulted his nostrils and he had to take a few deep breaths through his mouth to stop from being ill. The scent was distinctly one of rot, waste, and decay. With his arm over his mouth, Aaron wondered if y/n’s mother had died and been found a few days or perhaps a week after she had been deceased. The thought appalled him for y/n’s sake, and the idea of her being inside the home made him quicken his steps to see what was going on. 

Aaron moved up the two cracked and chipped concrete steps. He knocked on the gnarled screen door. y/n had kept the inner glass door open to get better air circulation of air in the room. Hotch swallowed and softly shouted, “y/n? y/n, are you in there? It’s Aaron.” The sound seemed to be absorbed into the house, the doors gaping mouth sucking everything into its blackness. The inside of the house was dim. Hotch couldn’t see any lights on and there seemed to be piles of stuff near the door half blocking it. Before Hotch stepped inside he thought that maybe the piles of boxes might be y/n packing up her mother’s things to get rid of or sell. However, after a minute of y/n not answering, Aaron decided to move inside the home and realized he was wrong. Hotch had to open the door and slide through the opening sideways to fit around the boxes which he realized were a fire hazard right away. As he was about to call to y/n again, Aaron’s eyes adjusted to the room and the words died on his lips. 

The front room of the small mobile home was filled with stuff. Boxes upon boxes were piled on top of each other. Many of which seemed to be growing mold or deteriorating. The boxes at the bottom were falling apart and yellowed or brown. The floors were also filthy, sticky, and littered with debris. As Aaron moved his way carefully further into the room he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of things around him. Not only were the boxes and trash overwhelming, but the scent had gotten considerably worse now that he was inside. After Hotch passed another pile of boxes, papers, and files he noticed that in the far corner was a couch which had one cushion cleared of garbage. It was the only clear spot he had seen in the house at all. Not that the couch cushion was clean, it was stained and smelled, but it didn’t have stuff on it. Aaron was coming to the realization of what y/n had grown up around as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area. 

This space was different and yet the same as the rest of the house. In the kitchen the windows weren’t covered up, so there was more natural light which highlighted the clutter even more. This clutter also wasn’t in boxes. It was on the counters and piled in all of the corners and crevices. The scent of rot was so bad here as boxes of discarded food, possibly years old sat on counters and in the sink. There were plates and cups forgotten and even as Hotch surveyed the disgusting scene he could tell there were bugs festering in the piles of rotting paper plates and unfinished coffee cups. There was one trash bag, half full of stuff sitting on top of one of the piles, but that was the only sign of life that Aaron could sense. From how bad the hoarding looked, he assumed that this had been going on for years, if not multiple decades. 

Hotch was fully in the kitchen and had almost forgotten why he was there. He was so surprised by what he was seeing that when y/n, who was very confused as to why her boss was inside her deceased mom’s house, rounded the corner, she was startled at his presence. Aaron whipped around effectively knocking a pile of things off of the metal folding table onto the floor. He watched as if in slow motion as a glass half of a puss-colored liquid crashed to the ground and broke. It seemed so loud in the small confines of the house that seemed to absorb all sounds into its piles of decay. He and y/n looked at the mess he’d made for a half second before a number of bugs, bugs that Aaron knew y/n didn’t like scurried out from the pile on the floor, and from the kitchen counters and onto the walls. y/n saw the bugs as clearly as Hotch and nearly jumped out of her skin swatting and brushing herself, afraid that some had gotten on her. Her breath had picked up and Hotch could see that y/n might be sick. Hotch’s instincts kicked in and he didn’t even apologize or explain why he was there. He simply knew that he had to get y/n out of this house. As far away as he possibly could. He stepped forward ignoring the retreating bugs looking for cover in some other dark corner of the room, took y/n’s arm in his, and started leading her toward the front door. y/n was trying to say something to him, ask him a question perhaps, but the blood was pumping in his ears and his heart was thumping in his chest. He’d answer any questions y/n had once they were outside. 

Aaron didn’t care that some boxes fell as he pushed the pile in front of the door out of the way. He could feel y/n shaking now and he wrenched open the screen door and followed her out, down the stairs, and into the front yard. y/n was still shaking and patting herself down like she might explode into flames while looking for bugs. Hotch stepped forward assertively and stilled her hands as he thoroughly brushed her off from her arms and shoulders, then down her chest and legs. He then moved to her back and did the same thing. When he did find a bug, he brushed it off and didn’t say a thing about it. When he got back to y/n’s front, she was breathing harshly through her teeth but seemed to calm down as she asked, “What are you doing here, Hotch?” 

Hotch looked at y/n and her eyes were telling him two stories. One was logical, “Is there a case? Did something bad happen? Do you need help?” and the other was everything else, “I didn’t want you here, go away, can’t you see what I’m going through?” Aaron felt terrible for how this had ended. He hadn’t expected this, but he knew the best answer was the truth, so he said, “I was worried about you,” and nothing else. y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself before looking over Aaron’s shoulder and into the house. y/n spoke the truth too, Hotch could always tell when she was lying: “I didn’t want anyone to see this.” Aaron swallowed and nodded, replying, “I know. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t known of course, but now he did, and all he could do was apologize. 

y/n composed herself. Putting her emotions back into all the boxes where they belonged and stood waiting for Hotch to say or do something. She knew if she started whatever conversation was about to happen she’d break, and she never wanted that. It was the thing that she had learned since leaving home; her secret weapon. Lie, tell half-truths, don’t show your emotions. Don’t let them know where you come from or who you really are, because if they knew, they’d never understand or give a damn about you. Slightly delusionally, y/n hoped that Aaron would get back into his car and leave, pretending he hadn’t seen anything. That he didn’t know her secret, and when she came back from leave, he wouldn’t say anything. He was kind, maybe he’d forget for her sake? 

Aaron watched the emotions play across her face like a silent film star on the big screen. It was only a series of seconds before y/n was back to the person he knew. The silence was intense and instead of leading with his emotions, Hotch tried to think logically. He assumed if he went from the heart he’d say something or ask a question that would distance y/n from him forever. So instead he asked the first logical question that came to mind, “Have you been in the house long?” Hotch was concerned that y/n might get sick again, this time from real mold and whatever other bad things inside the home, though his brain could think of little else apart from y/n not only as a child but an adult in such squalor. 

y/n’s soft, “No” had him relax. One thing was for sure, if he could avoid it, he wouldn’t be having y/n go back in there. Hotch looked back at y/n as she continued speaking, “I’ve mostly been in my hotel looking over the legal documents and trying to set my mom’s debts in order. And arrange some kind of funeral, though I doubt people will show up. She was kind of a recluse near the end of her life.” Aaron nodded along, grateful that she hadn’t spent much time here. He looked around the yard, unwilling to leave y/n here in this state, but also awkward about how he’d discovered this part of her past that she had so desperately hidden away like the trash inside. Aaron composed his next sentence carefully and asked, “Is there anything important that you need inside? Any of your mom’s documents, or items that have value?” Hotch tried to sound sincere in his words. He meant them, but with so much stuff inside, most of it looking like garbage, he knew it could come off as sounding condescending or like a joke. 

y/n thought for a moment, shifting uncomfortably on her feet before saying, “All the important stuff is out like her documents and stuff. I really should go back in and start cleaning. I rented a dumpster out back for the week and it’s not going to fill itself.” Hotch appreciated that y/n was trying to be lighthearted through this, but he shook his head no, replying, “I’ll hire someone to come and clean up. y/n. I don’t want you going back in there.” He didn’t phrase it like a command. On this account, he had no authority apart from his care and growing feelings for y/n. 

At Aaron’s offer, y/n looked back at the house from which she had fled so many times. Could this be the last time? Could she walk away and never look back? Never feel like she was slowly being buried alive by junk and trinkets and trash? She took a breath of clean air and considered that maybe she could. Maybe this was the end she had been dreaming of for so long. Maybe someone had finally come to save her from this hell. As she was about to turn around and say, “Yes, please. Let’s do that,” to Aaron, a single item crossed y/n’s mind and she paused. She looked up at Aaron and truly asked for help for the first time in a long time. “There’s a stuffed rabbit inside. It’s in my room I think. Could you get it for me?” In asking this of Aaron, she was opening herself to him almost wholly. It was an invitation for him to see all of the parts of herself that she had hidden. It was the chance to be ridiculed as she had by friends in childhood who came over and saw how she lived. It was the chance for men, older men, to not even come inside and leave her mother sobbing in the front yard. y/n was already swallowing back the tears when Aaron would say no and leave her. It was all too much for most people. It had been too much for her too. She wouldn’t blame Aaron as he drove away to something safe. To a clean apartment and shower. To a son who loved him. To someone who was no longer his wife, but someone who still cared. Given that choice, how can you pick the former? 

“Where’s the bunny? Is it a certain color?” The questions almost knocked y/n off her feet. She took in more air before saying, “It’s in the very back room. It used to be my bedroom. It’s pink with a white nose and long floppy ears.” Aaron nodded, shaking off his coat, ready to go back inside. As he moved past y/n, she grabbed his arm and said, “You don’t have to do this Hotch. It may not even be in there.” They both looked at the home and this time Aaron tried to be optimistic as he said, “y/n, do you really think your mom got rid of your childhood stuffie?” y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrous question. She let Hotch go and watched as he entered the house while her heart was trying to figure out what to do with itself. Since she had heard the news of her mom’s passing, she was on the precipice of a very high and ragged cliff face. All she would have to do was fall and everything would be over, but Aaron was like the pair of strong arms that held her back. Asking if this was what she really wanted. 

Aaron went back into the house once more trying to ignore the smell. He carefully pushed past the kitchen and into the narrow hallway. There was hardly room for him to squeeze his broad frame though. He found himself coughing a lot as particulate matter got into his system. Once out of the darkened hallway, he moved to the final door at the end of the home, peaking into the two other rooms, the main bedroom and the bathroom which were somehow worse than the front of the house. The farther he got back the more the trash piled up. He paid no mind to what was on the floor or what he was stepping on or over to get y/n what she needed to be rid of this place. He’d have to look up hoarding more thoroughly now. He’d been to a few homes on cases in the past where it had seemed to be an issue, he’d even had to call CPS on one family so they would get their act together. However, this was the worst case he’d ever seen, and he could only imagine what it was like growing up in an environment like this. Hotch had so many questions he felt like asking, so many ideas running through his mind, but he knew he’d have to be sensitive. Now was not a time for an interrogation. Now was the moment to remind y/n that he would support her. That he could be there for her, and if he couldn’t say the other things he might want to, the things he kept hidden himself, the least he could do was that. 

Hotch had to push open the door harshly to get into the back room. It was so dark inside that Aaron pulled out his phone and turned the flashlight on. This sent multiple bugs and what Hotch assumed was a small rat scampering into the dark. Aaron was surprised at how overwhelmed he could be by this problem, but even being in the house for a few minutes had him desperate for space and clean air. y/n’s apartment made total sense to him now. There was no clear path in this room and Hotch moved over whatever he needed to to get to the far wall. Under a window that was also covered with cardboard, he found a twin bed. It was mostly clear of stuff apart from the detritus in the room and he wondered if y/n or her mother had kept that one space clean. He was thankful to see the stuffed animal was on the center of the bed, old and stained brown by some substance of unknown origins. Aaron picked it up and moved as quickly and carefully as he could back out of the house. He attempted to look like he wasn’t running out of the place to not make y/n feel worse about his being there, but there was no hiding that once he was outside he felt so much better. He drank in the air like water and had a final fit of coughing before he moved toward y/n. 

The very sight of Aaron with her old stuffed animal had y/n near tears again. She could have lived without it, but it had been a single constant in her life and it was a reminder of everything she’d lived through. Having it felt like a trophy: “I made it. I’m here. Look at where I am now.” As soon as Hotch handed the bunny over with his long arms, and once y/n’s hands were around the worn-out toy whose fur was all but gone where she had hugged it as a child, she broke. There was nothing or no one that could have stopped her from pulling the rabbit to her chest and crumbling to the ground with sobs that wracked her body so hard that it hurt to breathe. Hotch watched as she crumbled to the ground and he ran forward trying to catch y/n, but she slipped out of his grasp like oil. y/n was curled in on herself and shaking and Hotch bit the inside of his lip. He moved slowly, not going to make any surprise moves on y/n’s fragile mental state, as he lowered himself to the ground. Once on his knees, Aaron leaned forward and placed one of his large hands on y/n’s back. She didn’t pull back from his touch, either too overwhelmed to do so, or comforted by him. Either way, after a moment Hotch leaned in further and covered her more with his body, anchoring her to something other than the ground and herself. 

It felt like a long time, like forever until y/n’s cries weakened and her breathing evened out. y/n let her body relax slightly, exhausted by her outburst. There were so many things y/n wanted to say to Aaron about how she was behaving. She figured this type of volatility could get her kicked off of the BAU, which is one reason she’d not wanted anyone’s help with this situation. She wanted to apologize but all she could say was the question that had been plaguing her for years, “Do you know what it feels like to have someone that’s supposed to love you chose absolutely shitty worthless trash over you? Do you know what that’s like Hotch?” y/n had spoken so softly that it was hard for Aaron to understand her, but the existential ache in her voice was one he knew well and he replied honestly, “No, y/n. I don’t, and I’m sorry you have to ask questions like that to yourself.” There was another loaded pause and y/n let herself go fully limp. Hotch hadn’t left yet and there was nothing left to lose if she just let go for a moment. She’d spent her energy, there was nothing left to give. Hotch supported y/n’s body, never letting it fully lay on the ground. He looked over her and said softly, “Let me get you to your hotel, y/n. Or just away from here, okay?” 

y/n nodded and Hotch helped her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily. Letting him take her anywhere but here. The pair was moving toward Aaron’s car when they stopped. y/n looked up from the ground to see what the issue was and why they had stopped. As soon as she saw who was approaching them, she froze. Went absolutely stiff as a board, and if Aaron hadn’t been there she would have fallen over, but her hands gripped onto his shoulder like a vice and she could feel him flinch but not move away. 

Aaron saw the man walking their way slightly later than he’d liked. He was leading y/n toward his car. He was going to take her to the hotel and try and get some food and water in her before making any more suggestions. But this new man, though he seemed harmless could pose a problem to him getting them out of there as fast as possible. The approaching figure walked with a limp and was probably about fifteen years older than Hotch. When he stopped he could feel y/n stop too, bumping into him slightly. He could feel her eyes lift past his shoulder where y/n’s hand was resting and the change in demeanor was so drastic that he could feel it. The coldness and stiffness radiating off y/n signaled her discomfort along with her harsh grip on his body. Instinctually he moved in front of y/n. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news. Hotch’s protective stance didn’t stop the man from walking about a foot from them and saying in a weak voice, “y/n. Is that you? It’s hard to believe it’s you. I haven’t seen you in years.” The man spoke like Aaron wasn’t even there, and there was an awkward pause when y/n should have responded back in some way but didn’t. That didn’t stop the man from continuing like nothing odd was happening here and saying, “I heard about your mother, y/n. I’m sorry… I just wanted to come over here and let you know.” y/n’s grip tightened on his shoulder even more but he didn’t grimace, and when y/n replied in a voice so void that he wouldn’t believe she was there if she wasn’t holding him so tight, “I’m sure you are,” Aaron knew something terrible had happened between them. No one sounded like y/n without it, whatever it was, it was bad. 

That was when the flip switched on in Hotch and he moved in front of y/n totally blocking her from view. If looks could kill the man in front of Hotch would have been found in cardiac arrest so bad that it seemed medically impossible. Aaron didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to as the man finally noticed his presence and almost wilted on site. The man opened his mouth and extended his hand out a millimeter but then just as quickly shut his chapped lips and turned on his heel moving as fast as she could without it looking like an outright sprint toward another building further in the neighborhood. 

Once the man was out of sight, Aaron moved y/n to his car and opened the door for her. She slipped into the passenger seat and was back to her early state in the BAU. When she would lose all affect. Hotch helped buckle her in and then got in on the driver’s side. He started the car and turned on the AC, it had gotten surprisingly warm and Hotch felt flushed and he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or something else. The pair didn’t talk during the ten-minute drive to y/n’s hotel. However, Hotch looked over at y/n every now and then to make sure she was still with him. It felt like if he didn’t stay tuned in on her she might slip away to a place he’d never be able to find her again. At the hotel, Hotch asked y/n what her room number was and she said, “251” and handed over her key fob. Hotch took it in his hand and led y/n inside and up to her room. If a stranger walked past them they might think something sketchy was going down. y/n looked drugged from her state and Aaron was like someone taking advantage of that opportunity. But there was no one there to see them, and for that, Hotch was grateful. 

y/n slumped into bed and Hotch sat down on the edge of the mattress. He knew that he needed to give y/n space. To let her rest and recover herself from what must have been a terrible day even though it had only been an hour that he’d been with her. He’d ask her if she’d like him to leave or stay, but first, he asked, “y/n, who was that guy?” For the first time since they’d gotten to the hotel room, y/n looked at Aaron and said in a whisper, “Don’t make me say it, Aaron. Please…” Hotch needed and put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. He didn’t need to know. Inside he knew, and he realized in that moment he wasn’t leaving y/n alone. Not ever; she’d been alone for too long and he’d help her change that if she wanted that. 

It wasn’t until a few months later, when the air had cleared and the skies stopped looking perpetually gray that y/n told Aaron what he had asked months ago. This was after they had been dating for a while. He knew almost everything about her now. He had found out the main source of her shame and after that there had been little to hide from him, thus beginning a relationship had been natural. She had asked him many times why he came that day and his answers varied, but the theme was consistent. “I was worried about you. I had a bad feeling. I just needed to be there,” and whatever other motivation Hotch might have had conscious or not y/n didn’t question them. He’d come when she had needed someone and now as they were laying next to each other, in their pajamas and a sheet over them she’d tell him the rest. 

y/n rolled on her side and ran her hand down Aaron’s sharp jawline. His stubble was slightly growing out, and she knew he’d shave it later that day. His dark eyes found hers and a hint of a smile on his face. y/n said, “Hotch, you once asked about that guy, in my mom’s neighborhood. Do you still want to know?” Hotch’s eyelids closed slightly. He was thinking through this offer. It wouldn’t change anything about how he thought about y/n. He had the utmost respect for y/n and how she had handled her life after all the terrible situations she’d lived through. And this would be no different. He knew he’d respect y/n for how she’d acted in whatever situation she had been put in, but his response wouldn’t change. Because of that he honestly replied, “y/n, if it would bring you peace and make you feel better then I’d like you to tell me. If it would make you feel bad or change anything then I don’t need to know. I’d like to know, but there are parts of ourselves that can stay hidden if it’s for the best. I trust you to know what’s best.” 

y/n had a feeling this would be the response from Aaron. He always was so considerate of her and her past. She knew that even though Hotch said he wouldn’t look at her differently, there was the nagging feeling in her mind, that was always in her mind, that the truth would push whoever she was with away. And even if it was slightly selfish, y/n loved Aaron so much that if she had to lose him, then she’d rather be the one to cut the cord sooner rather than latery/n let out a deep breath and said, “I’d like to tell you.” y/n paused before adding, “I’ve never told this to anyone before, so if I get confused or it sounds weird, I’m sorry.” Hotch nodded with understanding. He placed his hand on y/n’s arm and looked at her with encouragement. 

y/n got that far-away look in her eyes as she did when she thought about the far-away past. However, he could tell that she wasn’t fully immersed in the memories as her thumb glided over his knuckles. Aaron wondered if it was too painful to fully go back there, but either way, he was ready to listen. y/n took a shallow breath and said, “My mom’s… problems… have always been there. She used to tell me that it had nothing to do with me. I got that, or I tried to, but even if the hoarding wasn’t about me, it still affected me. It still made me smell funny and made it hard to do homework, or hard to eat any normal meals. When I was very young I just assumed everyone lived like we did because we were pretty isolated.” There was a break as y/n bit the inside of her lip as she decided how to continue. When she had her timeline as clear as her mind would allow, she continued her story: “When I got old enough to go to school I had a real wake-up call and I figured out that what I was living wasn’t ‘normal’ as I had believed. This meant that I got out more often, which I was glad about and I joined as many clubs and sports as possible to stay away from home. But I was like, eleven, so there weren’t a ton of options and we were poor, but I did what I could.

This was a blessing and a curse because I made some friends, but I never told anyone about what it was like at home. It was too embarrassing for me. My absence and meeting new people gave my mom time alone to buy more stuff without me around and it gave her a chance to meet some new people too. You know my soccer coach, or drama friends mom’s and dad’s.” Aaron nodded. y/n was slowing down, which he sensed meant that the story was going to get harder to tell from then. y/n swallowed and continued, “Mom started bringing guys around, drinking and stuff, but none of them would stay once they saw what her place was like, and I don’t blame them. Then one day one of your neighbors, that man that talked to me when you were at my mom’s house was over. I found them together more and more at home, so I thought they had a thing. I was surprised that he stuck around. Rumors fly in that type of environment. One day when the house was really really bad he told me I could spend some time with him at his place if I wanted somewhere clean to study.” Hotch’s brows pulled together. He’d heard these stories time and time again and the pit in his stomach balled into a knot. 

“I thought he was being nice, at first. It was nice for a while, but he, you know, he made me pay him back for his kindness. Aaron pulled y/n into a tight hug and whispered, “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.” There was a tense pause before Hotch asked, “Did you ever tell your mom?” y/n tensed and he knew this was the point that was tormenting her. Not that any of what she had said before wasn’t incredibly inhuman and cruel, but there were strong feelings attached to what was coming next. y/n was silent as she nodded her head yes. She sobbed into his chest and rasped out, “I did tell her after it got bad. She… she didn’t believe me. She didn’t want to believe me, because that man was someone who was willing to live and sleep with her delusions. I was the price of that relationship.” Hotch nuzzled his nose into her shoulder and whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” over and over again like a lullaby. After y/n had soothed slightly, she said, “I never told anyone else, Aaron. I let it fester, and I was scared. But… what if he hurt other people after me? Other kids? I can’t live with that. This job, our job, I thought it would make my guilt feel better, but no matter how hard I try it doesn’t go away.” 

Aaron pulled up a bit and wiped away y/n’s tear-stained face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and so sad. Hotch shook his head and said, “y/n, you were a child. So many people failed you. I imagine you were clinging to what you knew. The only thing you knew. No one can blame you for that, and if they do, that’s on them. I am so sorry that no one was there to protect you then. I’m here now, no one, no one will ever hurt you like that again, and if you want to talk more about this, I’m ready to hear you. If you want comfort, I’m here. If you want to speak to someone, a therapist, or a lawyer, I’m here. I’m here,” Hotch echoed again making sure she knew that she’d never be put in that place again. As long as he was alive, it would never happen again. y/n relaxed against him. She felt so much lighter having said everything. She knew Aaron, and she knew he was speaking the truth - he was there for her and he would be as long as she wanted him to be. Aaron, despite his flaws, was committed, and he didn’t give up on things. y/n rested her hand against his heart and felt it beating under her palm, steady like he was, and for the first time in over a decade, she had nothing to hide from someone she cared for. 

Hotch was sure to be careful with this new information y/n had shared with him. He had an even keel and he kept his promises. He had even more respect for y/n than before, and he treated her the same with that new knowledge. He knew that if he made a big deal of y/n’s situation that was not what she wanted. Like all things with their relationship, they took time with each other, letting what needed to happen do so in due time. However, even though Hotch could treat y/n with the same love, the knowledge of the man’s actions who had harmed her so severely ate at him. Not only that, but that he had seen him. That the man who had tormented someone so young and innocent was still walking around free of repercussions started a small seed of darkness in his spirit. 

Aaron normally didn’t let cases get to him, but whenever there were children involved he could only imagine Jack and now a young version of y/n in the same situation. Sometimes he dreamed of the man he’d seen in the trailer park. Dreamed of him dying in various ways. He knew it wasn’t good. He knew he couldn’t let him affect him this much, but there was no stopping the hatred that was growing in his heart. After a while, Hotch had researched the man and found out where he worked, and his criminal record. It was no shock that he had a long list of pretty crimes one of assault and battery. Aaron was always shocked by the freedom of information. It took him two days to find all of this out. He realized he was privileged as an agent, it was his job to find information about people, but even so, the surveillance state seemed to be getting worse every day and no one even noticed it. He pushed that thought aside as he glared at the address on the online yellow pages. He closed the private tab and sighed, making a not to delete all of these accounts once he got home and to call Jack and see how he was doing. 

After a few months of dreams about the man and y/n  that seemed to intensify in violence, Hotch knew that he couldn’t outrun this feeling of anger. It ran in his family, and he could normally control it, but this situation dealt with someone who was as close to himself as anyone had been, so forgiving and forgetting was not an option. Plus, the pervert who had hurt y/n didn’t deserve to be forgiven. He deserved what was coming to him. Aaron knew he couldn’t risk doing something like Elle had, even if that too was justified. He had far too many people relying on him, but he knew this anger wasn’t helping him, so with careful thought and research, he made a plan. Yes, couldn’t be a Batman-type vigilante doling out justice, but he sure as hell could instill fear into the hearts of weak, hurtful, and manipulative men, and that was what he was planning to do. 

He waited until the team was on break and y/n was going to see a good childhood friend. He knew she’d be so wrapped up in spreading her warmth with those around her that she’d not fully notice if he wasn’t as responsive as usual. This plan was only going to take two days according to his carefully crafted agenda. With the team on leave, he’d also be safe from a case calling him away and the other BAU members wondered why he was near the edge of the state and not at his apartment which was a forty-minute drive to Quantico. 

It was early when Aaron caught his 4:45 AM flight. He didn’t need to, he could drive to the trailer park easily, but he didn’t want to leave a clear trail behind his actions. He rested during the flight and knew that once his task was done, he’d be able to let this go and be fully present for y/n. To return the care she always gave him. He felt that he couldn’t love her unless he let this hatred go. The flight was short, less than an hour, and it landed in a small dinky airport on the edge of Virginia. He then rented a car from the airport and paid in cash. As the sun was fully lighting the sky, Hotch pulled up to the work site where the man he was after was sitting in an air-conditioned office, making sure workers didn’t get hurt on the job. When Aaron found out that that was what the man did, he could only cringe at the irony of someone like that keeping grown men safe but having such neglect for children. 

Hotch turned off the car and sat for a moment, tapping his hand on the wheel for a second. He was wearing work clothes, some he’d picked up at Goodwill two days ago. As he stepped out of the truck, he fit right in with the other men coming on the job. It was bound to be a hot day from the sun and lack of clouds. Hotch didn’t look at anyone as he walked toward the portable set of offices on the construction site. He stepped up the wooden stairs and entered the door on the left side. The man he was looking for sat in an uncomfortable-looking swivel chair, drinking a bitter cup of coffee. The man looked up at Aaron and eyed him over. Clearly thinking he was looking for a job, the man said, “HR is the door over. You’re lucky, we fired some guys yesterday.” Hotch clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything. The silence intensified and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat and said, “Can I help you with something?” Hotch let out a breath and locked the door of the office from the inside, trapping the man in with him. The man fidgeted in his chair, not expecting this kind of reaction and not having a clue what to do. 

Once Aaron was standing in front of the man’s desk he said, “There is something you can do for me. And you will do it, or you’ll regret the rest of your sorry life.” The man in the chair swallowed thickly and stuttered, “M-man what’s this about? Do I know you?” A tiny flash of understanding moved over his face but it went away as the fear returned. Given his response, the man clearly had more than one enemy, and perhaps this wasn’t the first time this kind of conversation had happened before. Aaron didn’t take the long road as he said, “If I so much as see you, or know that you’re around a child, ever, you’ll be in the ground before you can reach for your phone and try and call the cops.” A look of horror splashed the man like water and he took a bit too long to reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any kids man.” 

Aaron let out a breath and replied, “I don’t believe you. The way you’re biting the inside of your mouth right now tells me you’re lying. Also, the sex offender registry says otherwise. If you’re going to blatantly lie to me, at least be right.” Another minute of silence elapsed and Hotch continued, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me. So I’m going to say it once more. If I ever see your face near a kid, or in a paper, or near someone I care about I will end you, and you’ll regret every choice you ever make. If you think you can get away with doing something you’re wrong. Every time you pass a school, every time you sit in a pew, or at a restaurant you’d better be watching your back because I will be there somehow someway.” 

Hotch slammed his hands on the cheap wooden table, shaking it and the trailer as the man flinched away. The man closed his eyes, expecting to be hit, but by the time he opened his eyes, the large man who had threatened his life was walking out the door. 

Back in the car, Aaron pulled out, the man wouldn’t call the police, if he did, his criminal record who be brought up again, and questions would be asked. Questions the man couldn’t afford to answer. Hotch took his time driving back. He made a one-night stay at a hotel and saw a one-man play of Marx in Soho. He enjoyed the performance, but it was more of a cover-up than anything else. The team would ask him what he’d done while off and he’d have something to tell them for once. The next afternoon, he checked out of his hotel and drove back to the city. He arrived at the rental return lot in the evening, dropped off the car, and then got back into his own. As he entered the driver's seat, he felt the need to be with y/n. To have her presence relax him and to know that he’d done the right thing. He texted her to ask if she was back yet. As he started the car, he got a text from y/n saying, “Aaron, yeah I’m back. I got home this afternoon. I was just going to sleep early, I just got out of the shower. If you want to come a spend the night I’d love to have you here.” Hotch’s heart warmed at her response and he quickly texted back that he’d be over in a few minutes. 

When Aaron got to y/n’s apartment he parked in a visitor spot and grabbed his keys. He let himself in with his spare and closed the door with a soft click, locking it behind him. There was only the small stove light and lamp on in the kitchen and front room. Hotch looked into the clean space and called out, “Honey, I’m here. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” The soft reply from the bedroom was a simple, “Yes, please.” Hotch smiled and switched off the lights and then moved down the wooden hallway and into y/n’s room. 

y/n was just crawling into bed in her favorite night shirt when her bedroom door opened. She beamed at Aaron. Seeing him always made her feel safe, and even though she was tired, she was so happy for him to be here. “Are you staying tonight, or just stopping by to say hi?” Aaron looked around the room, feeling better being here already. Once he started slipping off his shoes and undoing the buttons on his shirt, y/n relaxed more into the bed now that she knew he was staying. When he was just in his briefs, Hotch dipped into bed and turned off the main light in the room. Under the covers he snuggled y/n from behind, breathing in her scent of moisturizer and shampoo. He stayed like that for a little while as they both got comfortable. y/n hummed her approval and whispered, “I’m sorry I’m not up for more tonight. Thanks for coming. How was your break?” Aaron kissed the nape of her neck and replied equally softly, “It was good. I saw a play you’d like yesterday. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” Aaron could feel y/n smile in front of him as she said, “Agent Aaron Hotchner, the man of culture. I can’t wait, love.” 

y/n was as tired as she sounded as she fell asleep a few minutes later. Hotch brushed her hair lightly and held her a little more tightly as he relaxed for the first time since y/n had told him the extent of what had happened to her. He couldn’t save everyone, sometimes it was too late, but this once, this once he was going to be there for someone. He was going to keep being there. As he drifted off, he was able to sleep and not have any dreams at all.

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[lumi-ya]

Scavenger hunts were becoming a regular occurrence on the Polar Tang nowadays, all thanks to Bepo. It started simply enough when your kids asked the navigator to draw a map for some pirate game that sparked an idea. As much as the crew loved the kids there were just some days when it would be easier if they weren't badgering people for their attention, to play or even trying to help; but that often delayed or complicated tasks.

So one evening on first watch Bepo drew up a map, one far too detailed and beautiful for just a kids game, filled it with visual clues hinting to a location aboard the submarine and hid a small treasure before heading to bed. The next day he passed the kids the map as the ship docked for a big supply restock and they were hooked. You and your husband saw them running around the ship but nothing more; they didn't bother you once.

The game only got bigger from there. The whole crew got involved helping find new hiding places, placing the clues around the ship, playing a small role in the hunt. Even Law liked to help come up with clues that would challenge the kids a little more.

The treasure varies, most of the time it was a small trinket from the treasury or with your permission Bepo would hide some sweets or chocolate for the kids to share. One time he needed a treasure for a last minute hunt to distract the kids. He nabbed one of their own toys and hid it away preparing to apologise for the lame prize after the hunt with the promise of a better treasure next time. To Bepo's surprise your little ones said they couldn't care less about the treasure the hunt was always the fun part after which they always made sure to thank the navigator for his hard work.

[faebled-stories]

Finding True Beauty

Kinkvember Day 4: Mirror Sex

Park Jihyo x Male reader

6.8k words

AN: I really adore this photo, It fits so well and she looks absolutely stunning

Jihyo had always felt the weight of expectations pressing down on her, unyielding and relentless. In Korea, beauty was revered to an almost mythic degree—a cultural ideal that demanded flawlessness, leaving little room for individuality. It wasn’t just about looking good; it was about embodying perfection, fitting neatly into a mold that felt impossible to achieve. Living in this reality, she spent her life feeling like an outsider, always just short of the ideal.

Billboards and magazine covers showcased faces with flawless skin, bodies that seemed more sculpted than human, impossibly slender and toned. She knew, logically, that many of those images were enhanced, that even those models weren’t perfect in real life. But logic didn’t ease the ache. The pressure she felt wasn’t only social; it was deeply internal, a voice that echoed with every glance in the mirror, whispering, “Not enough.”

Jihyo had done her best to fit the mold, adopting a skincare routine so meticulous it consumed her evenings, each cream and serum a silent plea to feel closer to the ideal. She followed strict diets, counting calories, always conscious of her figure. Even though her natural build was curvier than the thin bodies praised in magazines, she was constantly trying to slim down, to soften her edges, hoping one day she’d look in the mirror and feel like she belonged.

But no amount of dieting or creams could erase her natural curves, and her chest—fuller than most—often felt like a burden. She knew others saw her figure as attractive, yet she couldn’t shake the discomfort it brought her. Sometimes, she’d catch herself staring longingly at the clothes in store windows, delicate dresses and slim-fit tops that seemed to be designed for someone else. On other women, they looked effortless, perfect. On her, they stretched awkwardly, pulling tight across her chest in a way that made her feel out of place. No matter how she adjusted her posture or tried different sizes, those clothes never felt quite right.

And there were the comments. The lingering glances from strangers, the sly remarks from acquaintances, and especially the words from men who seemed to think her curves were an invitation. Compliments rarely felt complimentary; instead, they left her feeling exposed, as if her body were the only part of her that mattered.

In her most vulnerable moments, Jihyo found herself retreating, creating a barrier between herself and the world. She’d wear loose clothing, hiding her form beneath baggy sweaters and oversized coats, each piece carefully chosen to let her slip unnoticed into the background. The fabric became her shield, a buffer against curious glances and unspoken judgments. There were days she wished she could disappear completely, blend into the crowd without a single gaze finding her.

At home, she rarely ventured near mirrors, looking away from reflections that felt like harsh reminders of everything she felt was wrong, everything she couldn’t change. The mirror seemed to amplify her perceived flaws, highlighting the parts that felt too different from what she imagined beauty to be. Even a quick glimpse of her own face or body sparked a familiar pang—a longing to be smaller, softer, to have the delicate features she thought the world admired. Each time, she’d feel herself shrink inside, as though her very presence were too much, her reflection a sight unworthy of admiration.

Yet, beneath those pangs of self-doubt lay something else—a glimmer of yearning that refused to disappear. She wanted to see herself differently, to look in the mirror and find beauty staring back at her. Part of her longed to shed those layers, to one day strip away the loose clothing and stand openly, seeing herself as more than her insecurities. Still, that dream felt distant, like a hazy mirage on the edge of her vision, just out of reach.

This quiet, unspoken longing stayed with her, hovering in the back of her mind, whispering that there was more to be found beneath the layers she used to shield herself. It was as if a part of her knew that her reflection held a depth she had yet to discover—that beyond the clothes, beyond the guarded glances, lay a woman capable of seeing her own beauty, of embracing her own strength.

But for now, she pushed the thought aside, choosing the comfort of concealment. Yet even in these hidden moments, a faint desire lingered—a hope that one day she could look into her reflection unafraid, finding acceptance and maybe even beauty.

These insecurities shadowed her into intimate moments as well. She could never fully let go, fearing that any of her partners would silently compare her to an idealized version of beauty. The fear gnawed at her, holding her back from fully embracing her desires. In those moments, she couldn’t help feeling betrayed by her own body, as though it were keeping her from the experience others seemed to find so effortlessly.

One night, feeling restless and weary from her own thoughts, Jihyo found herself alone in her apartment, scrolling aimlessly through a website filled with romance and erotica novels. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for—maybe a distraction, maybe a world far removed from her own. She just needed to escape, to silence the internal dialogue that repeated on loop, reminding her of everything she thought she wasn’t.

A story caught her eye, a tale of a woman’s journey to self-confidence. Intrigued, she clicked on it, drawn to the description of a protagonist who found her beauty not in someone else’s gaze but in her own. It was an unfamiliar idea—finding worth, finding beauty, without needing validation from someone else. She read on, her curiosity sharpening.

As Jihyo delved into the story, she found herself captivated. The protagonist wasn’t flawless; she struggled with body image just as much as Jihyo did. Yet there was something extraordinary about the woman’s journey, the way she slowly reclaimed her confidence by seeing herself through new eyes. It wasn’t a partner who helped her—it was her own gaze, her own acceptance.

The most powerful scene lingered in Jihyo’s mind, describing how the woman used mirrors to confront her reflection, watching herself from every angle as she explored her body. There was no shame, only an unfiltered appreciation of her curves, her shape, the way her body moved. The protagonist allowed herself to see the beauty in what she’d always considered flaws, to find grace in the moments she’d once avoided. It was a complete reversal of everything Jihyo had felt, and the idea left her breathless.

She read the passage again and again, her heart racing as she tried to imagine doing the same. Could she really use mirrors to look at herself with that same gentle gaze, to confront her own insecurities and find beauty in her own body? Could she bring herself to face her reflection without feeling that familiar discomfort, without the weight of shame?

The thought was both terrifying and exciting. It would mean standing before herself, unclothed and vulnerable, allowing every curve, every flaw, to come into full view. But if the woman in the story could do it, maybe she could too. Maybe it wasn’t about changing anything but about shifting her perspective, seeing herself in a light that allowed room for acceptance and even love.

That night, as she lay in bed, Jihyo couldn’t stop thinking about the mirrors. She could almost picture herself standing in front of them, the soft light catching the lines of her figure, casting shadows that highlighted her natural curves. The idea made her pulse quicken, a rush of anticipation mingling with her nerves. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, that it might be painful at first to face herself so honestly. But the thought lingered, insistent, tugging at something deep within her that longed for release from the weight of constant comparison.

In that moment, she made a promise to herself: one day, she would stand in front of a mirror and see herself as something beautiful. Not because she was flawless, but because she was real. Because she was enough.

Jihyo closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long while, her heart felt lighter. She didn’t know how long it would take, but she felt a spark of hope—a small, precious ember that maybe, just maybe, she could learn to see herself through kinder eyes.

The thought lingered with her long after she set the book aside. It wasn’t just the story that captivated her but the idea of seeing herself fully, without judgment, without filters. What would it be like to stand in front of a mirror and not automatically focus on flaws or imperfections, but on the beauty in each line and curve? Her mind swirled with the possibilities, turning over an idea that felt equal parts thrilling and terrifying. For once, her fantasies didn’t involve someone else—they revolved around her, a vision of discovering her own body and beauty on her terms.

That night, a strange mix of curiosity and nervousness pulsing within her, Jihyo decided to try it. Pulling a small mirror from her drawer, she set it by her bedside, feeling a bit self-conscious. The mirror was small, only able to capture fragments of her, but that seemed fitting—a tentative first step. Slowly, she undressed, her heart racing as she slid beneath the sheets, both eager and hesitant. Her eyes flitted between the mirror and her body, unsure of what she’d see or feel, unsure if this would unlock something within her or merely deepen her insecurities.

As she lay back, the coolness of the sheets sharp against her skin, her hands moved tentatively, her fingertips grazing her collarbone, her curves, the softness of her thighs. A gentle shiver ran through her, and her eyes fixed on the mirror, seeing only pieces of herself—the arch of her neck, the swell of her chest, a hand tracing the curve of her hip. The mirror reflected these moments, capturing a quiet intimacy that she wasn’t accustomed to sharing, even with herself.

The sensation was undeniably alluring, her breathing quickening as her hands moved more freely, each touch intensifying the connection between her mind and body. But as her pleasure built, she found herself distracted. The small mirror offered only glimpses, incomplete flashes that couldn’t fully capture the experience. Even as waves of pleasure washed over her, a deeper yearning remained—the desire to see herself completely, to confront every insecurity, every aspect she had avoided for so long.

The realization struck her hard: she needed to see all of herself, every angle, every detail, without hiding. The mirror had given her a taste, but it wasn’t enough. She yearned for a space where she could truly explore, where her reflection could reveal her without judgment.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced—a flash of an ad she’d seen a few weeks earlier while online shopping. It had been one of those pop-ups, something she’d quickly close or scroll past, but now the words came back clearly. It was for a place called The Pleasure Paradise Hotel. Her pulse quickened as she hurriedly pulled out her phone and found the hotel’s website. The tagline read, “Where every fantasy blooms in paradise.” She chuckled at the phrasing but clicked on the “Fantasies” tab.

And there it was, nestled among the long lists of fantasies: the Mirror Rooms. The description made her breath catch, detailing spaces crafted for self-exploration, adorned with mirrors that reflected every part of her from every angle, allowing for a judgment-free discovery of self. This was precisely what she had been craving—a sanctuary where she could be alone with her reflection, liberated from the societal expectations that weighed so heavily on her.

Her hand hovered for only a moment before she clicked the “Book Now” button, her nerves quickly overtaken by a rush of excitement as she filled in her information. After a moment, a confirmation screen appeared, thanking her for choosing the Pleasure Paradise Hotel.

The day of her booking arrived faster than she’d anticipated. Entering the luxurious lobby, Jihyo felt a blend of anticipation and nerves. The hotel exuded a quiet elegance, with soft lighting, subtle hints of jasmine, and decor that made the space feel intimate and indulgent. Her heart raced as she approached the front desk, where a poised woman greeted her with a warm, professional smile.

“Good evening. Welcome to the Pleasure Paradise Hotel. How may I assist you today?” the receptionist asked, her tone calm and reassuring.

Jihyo hesitated briefly, lowering her voice. “Hi, I… I’ve booked a stay in one of the Mirror Rooms,” she said, glancing around to ensure no one else could hear.

The receptionist’s smile deepened knowingly. “Ah, the Mirror Rooms,” she said, her voice laced with understanding. “A popular choice for guests looking to explore and connect with themselves more intimately. We offer a few packages, each designed to provide a unique experience.”

Jihyo’s hands fidgeted slightly, the receptionist’s gentle confidence helping to ease her tension as she listened.

“Our first option is a private experience,” the receptionist continued, gesturing toward a sleek tablet on the counter. “In this package, you’ll have the room entirely to yourself, with mirrors arranged to let you see yourself from every possible angle, creating a safe space to explore your desires alone. It’s very popular for first-time guests.”

Jihyo nodded, intrigued, but a faint restlessness lingered—something told her she needed more than just the mirrors. She wanted something deeper, though she wasn’t yet certain what that might be.

“Our second option,” the receptionist went on, “is similar to the first, but you may bring up to five partners to accompany you, giving you the chance to share your experience with others, if that’s something you’d like.”

Jihyo nodded again, appreciating the variety but feeling a stronger pull toward exploring alone, without an audience. The thought of including others felt premature. She wanted the experience to feel wholly her own.

“And finally,” the receptionist said, her smile widening ever so slightly, “we offer a guided experience. Here, you’re joined by a professional guide who assists in your exploration, offering support, guidance, and whatever level of interaction you’re comfortable with.”

“A guide?” Jihyo’s voice was a soft whisper, barely audible.

“Yes,” the receptionist confirmed, turning the tablet toward her. “Should you choose the guided experience, you can select from a gallery of experienced guides, each highly trained to ensure that your experience is everything you desire. Whether you’re seeking gentle encouragement or someone to help you delve deeper, there’s a guide to match your preference.”

She tapped the screen, bringing up the gallery of guides. The display featured a diverse array of men and women, each with their own unique energy. Some wore inviting, gentle smiles, while others gazed intently at the camera with a more intense, brooding expression. Each image seemed to convey a distinct presence, as if each guide held a different key to unlocking the experience.

Jihyo’s gaze lingered as she took in the faces on the screen. Some were soft and nurturing, others exuding strength and confidence, each inviting her into a different possible experience. She felt the tension between choosing solitude and allowing someone else to witness her vulnerability, to help her confront her insecurities in a way that felt both terrifying and thrilling.

Then, her eyes fell on one photo—a man with an aura of quiet confidence that stood out from the rest. He wasn’t overly posed; he looked relaxed, a calm strength in his features softened by a warm, genuine smile. Something about the ease in his posture and the spark of curiosity in his eyes made her heart skip. He looked approachable yet held an unmistakable air of control, someone who could help her feel both seen and safe.

Underneath the photo, your name appeared.

A quiet thrill shot through her as she clicked to read his profile, each detail deepening her intrigue.

“He seems…” Jihyo began, her voice trailing as her gaze lingered on the photo of the man she’d chosen.

The receptionist smiled knowingly, sensing her indecision melt into interest. “He’s one of our most popular guides,” she explained warmly. “He has a gift for making guests feel at ease. Intuitive, patient, and incredibly thoughtful, adapting to whatever you need—whether it’s gentle guidance or firm direction. He’s here to help you explore at your own pace.”

Jihyo swallowed, feeling a new spark of excitement flare in her chest. A sense of reassurance steadied her as she nodded. “I think… I’d like him,” she replied, her voice soft but resolute.

“An excellent choice,” the receptionist confirmed, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “your guide will meet you directly in your room. If you wish to adjust the experience or set any new boundaries, just let him know. His sole focus is on your comfort and fulfillment.”

Jihyo nodded, feeling both reassured and anticipatory. The idea of having a guide through this exploration—someone attuned to her desires and limitations—was thrilling yet calming. Somehow, it felt right.

“I’ll take care of everything else. You can head up to your room whenever you’re ready,” the receptionist said, handing her a sleek key card and a small, discreet goodie bag. Inside, she found tiny bottles of lube and a couple of condoms. “And remember, this is your experience. You’re in control of how it unfolds. If you need anything replenished, just call the front desk.”

As she headed toward the elevator, her heart raced. Her decision was clear now; she was ready to step into this unknown space of self-discovery.

The room was exactly as advertised, but the reality of it was more powerful than she’d imagined. Four mirrors framed the bed, each offering a unique angle. But it was the ceiling mirror that drew her attention, catching her off guard. A surge of vulnerability washed over her, seeing herself reflected from so many sides, so exposed and open. Yet with that vulnerability came an undeniable power—a sensation of strength in being fully seen, even if only by herself. She let herself take in the room slowly, breathing in the potential it held, the beauty of the setup that invited her to confront herself completely.

“Hello, Ms. Jihyo. I’ll be your guide this evening,” you say, your tone friendly, though your gaze holds a depth, a quiet intrigue that mirrors her own emotions. Her cheeks flush as the experience becomes tangible, their connection palpable.

With calm confidence, you enter the room, carefully closing the door behind. “Have you done something like this before?” you ask, your voice gentle and curious, free of any judgment.

Jihyo shakes her head, her own voice barely a whisper. “Just Jihyo is fine… and no. I’ve thought about it, but… I haven’t gone this far.”

A soft smile crosses your lips. “Curiosity is a wonderful place to begin.” Moving with unhurried grace, you gesture toward the mirrors surrounding her. “This space is yours to explore, to experience however you choose. There’s no rush, no expectations. I’m here solely to support you.”

The warmth in your voice deepens the intimacy of the moment, your presence both soothing and emboldening. As you move around the room, adjusting the lighting and taking subtle cues from her, Jihyo feels ease settle over her, tension gradually dissipating. The mirrors no longer feel like mere reflections; they become invitations—portals into her own depth, her own truth.

Taking a steadying breath, Jihyo reaches for the edge of her clothing. She hesitates, fingers hovering as she catches her reflection in the mirror. Slowly, she begins to undress, her movements almost tentative, as if each piece removed exposes more than just skin. Her gaze remains fixed on the mirror, her eyes tracing the curves and lines of her body with a mixture of scrutiny and reluctance. There’s an involuntary judgment in her stare, her expression tinged with dissatisfaction as she examines each perceived flaw with a familiar, critical eye.

As she glances at the reflection beside her, she notices you undressing in the background, your movements natural and unguarded. Your frame, by contrast, seems to fit easily within the accepted ideals she’s grown accustomed to seeing, adding a new layer to her own self-consciousness. A quiet comparison arises, unbidden, and she finds herself thinking how effortlessly you seem to belong in your own skin. Her shoulders stiffen slightly, insecurities whispering reminders of all the ways she feels she doesn’t measure up, each perceived flaw amplified as she stands there exposed.

She shifts slightly, as if hoping another angle might soften the imperfections she’s focused on. Yet, she allows herself to remain fully bare, lingering in the vulnerability despite the discomfort that rises within her. She feels the weight of her own self-consciousness, and though the impulse to cover herself hovers, she resists it, reminding herself that here, in this space, she doesn’t have to hide.

Still, the unease doesn’t quite fade. Her eyes remain cautious, holding onto traces of the self-doubt she can’t seem to shake. The familiar instinct to take control tugs at her, but there is another part—hidden, quieter, and long-buried—that yearns for release, to feel what it might be like to let go, to be seen as she is.

“Can you… take the lead?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, soft with uncertainty.

You meet her gaze with understanding, your expression gentle and reassuring. “Of course,” you reply, reaching out to touch her shoulder with a steadying presence. “Let me guide you. You’re safe here. Just relax and be exactly as you are.”

Her heart pounds as she nods, releasing her defenses for the first time in a long while. As you move behind her, hands tracing gently along her sides, Jihyo turns her attention to the mirrors. In their reflections, she sees herself in a new way—open, vulnerable, fully visible from every angle. A tremor of anticipation runs through her, magnified by the warmth of your touch, which sends ripples of sensation down her spine.

Each movement is deliberate, a steady rhythm allowing her to lose herself in the feeling. Your fingertips skim over her shoulders and down her arms, grounding her in the present, reconnecting her with her own body. She watches, captivated, as you guide her, your touch both tender and commanding, knowing exactly where to linger, allowing her to ease into herself.

Her breath quickens as you continue, each touch more intentional than the last. Glancing from one mirror to another, she sees her own body reflected from every angle. The ceiling mirror above captures her in the most vulnerable, raw view possible. Seeing herself like this makes her heart race, each angle revealing parts of herself she’d never fully embraced.

With every trace of your fingers across her skin, her breath hitches, anticipation building. The sound of her own shallow breaths, the sensation of your presence, and the reflections encircling her all merge into a heady, intoxicating mix. Every sigh, every subtle movement, mirrored back to her—a tangible reminder of her own beauty, her own strength.

The intimacy of the moment deepens, warmth spreading through her with each gentle touch, every lingering look at her reflection. You adjust her posture ever so slightly, positioning her to meet her own gaze from every angle. There is no hiding, no escape from the image of the woman staring back—her beauty raw, her presence powerful and real.

Each touch, each mirrored glimpse, becomes a quiet yet profound invitation for her to embrace herself fully, to revel in a beauty she’d often overlooked. The control she so often held onto now slips away, leaving only the freedom to feel, to see herself as she truly is. With you there, guiding her with a steady hand and calming presence, the weight of expectation and insecurity begins to dissolve, replaced by a deep sense of acceptance she has rarely felt.

The tension between you grows, thickening the air with anticipation. You slide your body onto the bed, beckoning her to sit Infront of you, Jihyo slowly gets on the soft sheets and leans her back on your chest.

Your hands move with practiced precision, each touch making her skin feel like it’s coming alive beneath you. Starting at her hips, your fingers brush lightly along her thighs, stirring a subtle ache that resonates deep within. You trace upward, skimming the sensitive inner thigh, your fingers moving closer to her center but stopping just short, building her anticipation with every teasing pass.

Your fingers drift to the edge of her folds, each movement languid and measured—never quite giving her what she wants, but keeping her hanging on each touch. You press the pad of your thumb over her clit in a slow, circular motion, firm enough to draw her hips forward, her body instinctively urging you to go further. But you don’t rush; your touch expertly coaxes her reactions, guiding her to match your rhythm. The gentle circles over her clit send waves of pleasure through her, a steady pulse that grows with each pass of your hand.

Her breath quickens, her fingers curling as she sinks into the pleasure you weave around her, the tension winding tight within her as you keep her on edge. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror again, your gaze holding a subtle command, urging her to comply. “Look at yourself,” you murmur, with a tone low and warm. “See how beautiful you are.”

As she gazes into the mirror, her reflection captivates her. Her cheeks are flushed, a deep rosy hue that contrasts beautifully with her soft skin, her breath quickening as she watches the way her body responds to your every touch. There is an aura of pure bliss surrounding her, a glow that highlights the ecstatic expression on her face. The way her chest rises and falls, the subtle arch of her back, all blend into a portrait of surrender that sends a thrill through her. It’s a sight that makes her pulse race, the beauty of the moment wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

With practiced patience, one hand travels up her side, pausing just below her chest. You meet her gaze in the reflection again, fingers ghosting over her skin. “May I?” you ask, your breath warm against her neck. A shiver runs through her, and she replies, breathless and quick, “Yes,” her voice trembling with eagerness.

With her permission, your hand slips over her breast, your touch firm yet gentle, sending sparks across her skin. The other hand remains at her core, circling slowly, pressing just enough to make her hips tilt toward you. Your mouth traces a line along her neck, your breath hot just behind her ear, unraveling her composure further. Her breaths grow faster, soft and uneven, each exhale mingling with the quiet hum of the room, enclosing you both in your own world.

Your hands work in tandem, the deliberate squeeze and tug on her breast blending with the rhythmic pressure below. Her mind grows hazy with need as you hold her close, every movement perfectly timed to her building tension. Her fingers tangle in the fabric beneath her, grounding herself as she climbs higher, each sensation building on the last.

Finally, with the combination of your hand possessively gripping her chest, the other pressing into her core, and your lips igniting her neck, her climax surges. It begins as a slow, shivering wave, rising from her center and spreading outward, consuming her in pulses that leave her breathless. Her back arches, pressing into you as the tension within her snaps, transforming into a raw, rolling pleasure that seems to echo through every inch of her body.

Her gaze stays locked on the reflection, and as she watches herself surrender, it amplifies everything—the sight of her flushed cheeks, the quiver of her parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest. The intensity of watching her own body unfold in pleasure makes her climax feel endless, a powerful rush that pulls her deeper with each second. Her hips buck in need, her fingers clutching at the fabric beneath her, grounding herself as she rides each wave. She can’t look away; the vulnerability and beauty of her reflection hold her captive, amplifying the sensation, making her feel as if she’s both inside her body and observing herself from a distance, awash in her own surrender.

As her breathing steadies, she looks back at the mirrors, feeling a newfound determination stirring within. This experience was hers to claim. Meeting your gaze in the mirror, her expression shifts, her resolve clear. “I want to take the lead this time,” she whispers, her voice steady with newfound confidence.

A smile of admiration softens your expression, your eyes alight with encouragement. “Then take it,” you reply gently, leaning back to give her the space to step into her own power. “This is your room, Jihyo. It’s yours to explore.”

A pulse of excitement thrums through her as she positions herself over you, her legs framing your hips, her posture upright and commanding. Facing away, with her gaze fixed on the mirrors in front of her, she’s fully absorbed in the view—a woman confident, unashamed, with every angle of her form magnified in the glass surrounding her. For the first time, she feels the full thrill of being in control, the power in shaping her own pleasure. The image is intoxicating, each movement captured from all sides, revealing a beauty she’d rarely allowed herself to see.

With a shared, silent understanding, she lifts herself slightly, giving you the space to reach for protection. You slip on a condom as she steadies herself, her breath quickening with anticipation. She then takes you in her hand, guiding herself, and slowly lowering her hips, placing your length inside. A shallow gasp escapes her lips as her eyes remain on the mirror while she moves, watching herself take control and savoring every second of the connection.

She begins to move, her hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm that sends shivers of sensation through her, intensifying with each shift and sway. Every part of her feels alive, attuned to the heat building between you, her body becoming the focal point, the center of her awareness. Each curve, every subtle arch of her back, every sway of her hips is captured in the mirrors that surround her. She feels more real, more tangible, than she ever has before.

Her movements grow more purposeful, a quiet confidence driving her, deepening with each slow, deliberate motion. Her breath quickens as she watches herself, captivated by the image in the mirrors—a vision bathed in warm, golden hues that soften her form while enhancing the allure in every line and curve. The room’s gentle lighting casts her skin in a rich glow, accentuating the lines of her body, the sweep of her shoulders, the strength in her arms. She sees herself with newfound respect, a fierce ownership over her form that feels both freeing and grounding. In each reflection, she doesn’t just see her body; she sees the strength she’s beginning to claim as her own. Yet in the end, it’s her eyes, focused and unwavering, that hold her attention the most, her gaze fierce, filled with intent.

A soft groan escapes from you beneath her, your hands resting lightly on her hips, grounding her yet allowing her the freedom to move. She feels your admiration, senses it in the subtle tension of your grip, in the way your gaze never leaves her. You look at her with awe, but she realizes the most powerful gaze in the room is her own.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Jihyo,” you murmur, your voice warm with admiration. “Look at you—so strong, so beautiful.”

A soft flush blooms on her cheeks, but your words only heighten her awareness of herself, fueling the desire pulsing steadily within. She can feel it now—the raw beauty of her control, the unfiltered confidence that has blossomed from the moment she took the lead. The mirrors don’t just reflect her body; they show her strength, her self-assuredness, qualities she has only begun to embrace. Each roll of her hips, every deliberate shift, feels like an assertion of her power, each soft gasp a quiet acknowledgment of her own beauty.

Her rhythm intensifies, movements growing faster as her body responds eagerly, the tension building low and insistent in her belly. Fingers gripping your legs for balance, she leans into the sensation, chasing the release that feels tantalizingly close, riding the wave of pleasure that surges through her with every motion. She can feel it all—the heat, the friction, all blending into a heady mix that sweeps her closer to the edge.

Lost in the rhythm, her head tilts back, and her gaze catches the ceiling mirror. She had nearly forgotten it, too absorbed by the other reflections, but now, seeing herself from above—a fresh angle highlighting the curves of her breasts, the strength in her posture, every movement purposeful and commanding—sends a shockwave of pleasure through her. The image is almost overwhelming. She looks powerful, entirely in control, moving with an instinctive grace as she rises toward her climax.

The sight is intoxicating, and in that moment, her breath catches, her body tensing as the release finally surges forward, consuming her. “Oh—yes,” she gasps, her voice trembling as the waves of pleasure hit her with full force. “I'm gonna cum... Yes! I'm cumming!,” she screams, her words slipping out in between each pulse, each wave of bliss that crashes through her. Her muscles tighten, her voice rising as the sensations build, and she lets out a cry, unrestrained, raw. Her eyes stay locked on the mirror, watching as her face softens in pleasure, her body quivering, her back arching as she succumbs to the intensity.

The sensation deepens, amplifying as her reflection stares back, grounding her in the sheer power of her release. Her lips part as a moan escapes, her body trembling under the force of the climax, every inch of her alive with sensation. She feels herself unraveling, yet within that unraveling is a new, unity with herself, a reclaiming of every part of her. The image in the mirror transforms her, revealing a woman fully unbound, lost in the depth of her own ecstasy, her pleasure radiating outward in waves.

As the final tremors ebb, she falls backwards, her body softening, surrendering as she relaxes against you. Her heartbeat echoes through her chest, her breath slowing in soft gasps as she lets the experience settle around her. She lies still for a moment, savoring the fullness of what she has just felt, the echoes of pleasure still vibrating through her, lingering in her limbs, in the hum of her skin.

The mirror has revealed something far beyond beauty—it has shown her strength, her vulnerability, her raw, unfettered power. She has taken control, and in doing so, she sees herself with a clarity that transcends simple reflection. She isn’t just a body; she is a woman of immense power, a woman capable of holding her own beauty with reverence.

A soft smile tugs at her lips as she lets the last of her tension dissolve, her body still alive with the remnants of her climax. She feels incredible. In this quiet, profound moment, Jihyo knows that she has stepped into a new version of herself, one who can look at her reflection and see the full scope of her beauty and power, unfiltered, unafraid. And that realization, even as her breath slows and her heart softens, is a pleasure all its own.

A warm hand brushed softly against her back, grounding her in the present, and your voice came as a gentle whisper. “I hope you enjoyed your time here,” you said, your tone reverent.

She turned to you, her eyes warm and glistening with gratitude. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice carrying a quiet depth. “This experience… it’s shown me parts of myself I’d forgotten, parts I didn’t even know were there.” Then in a moment of realization a quick panic rushed upon her. "Wait you didn't get to finish"

Your hand brushed softly against hers, grounding her in the present, and your voice came as a gentle whisper. “This was always about you, not me. Its okay, truly” you said, your tone reverent.

You smiled, meeting her gaze with admiration. “There’s such a difference in you now,” you added, a note of pride in your voice. “From the Jihyo I met just a short while ago to the one standing here now… it’s like night and day, even without words. You’re radiant—glowing with a confidence that wasn’t there before.”

Her cheeks flushed with quiet pride, and a soft smile touched her lips as she let herself sink deeper into the warmth of the moment, her body still alive with the lingering sensations that rippled gently through her. She felt incredible, her very core awakened—a part of herself that had always been there, now freed and fully embraced. Confidence, steady and unshakeable, flowed through her, filling her with a sense of wholeness she’d never quite known before. This feeling, this assurance, was wholly hers.

-----

In the weeks that followed, Jihyo found herself returning to the Mirror Room again and again. Each visit became an opportunity to peel back another layer, to delve deeper into her own story, her own beauty, her own strength. Every time she stood before those mirrors, something new awaited her: another hidden facet, another part of herself coming into the light. She found herself lingering in her reflections longer, tracing the lines of her body, absorbing the softness and strength she was coming to know and love. Sometimes, she led the experience, moving with purpose; other times, she allowed herself to be guided, reveling in the sensation of surrender. You had become an intuitive presence, familiar with the subtleties of her preferences, attuned to her every movement without needing to ask. Each time, she left the room with a richer understanding of herself, a deeper acceptance of her own worth, resilience, and beauty.

The mirrors became her companions on this journey, revealing her from angles and perspectives she would never have considered before. They offered her a clearer view of a woman whose confidence and self-love had blossomed from a place of discovery and acceptance. She no longer shied away from her reflection; instead, she looked at herself with a newfound openness, appreciating the uniqueness that made her who she was.

Eventually, Jihyo realized she wanted to bring this experience home, to let this newfound freedom settle into her daily life, beyond the mirrors of the hotel. One evening, after what she knew would be her final hotel visit, she found herself standing in her bedroom, unwrapping an oversized mirror she had ordered just for herself. The frame was sleek, elegantly crafted, its generous size designed to capture every angle around her bed—just like the mirrors in the hotel room that had shown her so much. She traced her fingers along the edge, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath her fingertips, a soft smile playing on her lips as memories of her journey flickered in her mind.

The mirror was more than a piece of decor; it was a symbol of everything she had uncovered and the confidence she had unlocked. It embodied her courage to embrace not just her desires but her own beauty, her own strength. It was a reflection of the woman she had become—a woman who could look at herself without fear or hesitation, fully aware of her beauty in all its complexity.

After placing the mirror carefully at the foot of her bed, she stepped back, taking in the way her reflection gazed back with clear eyes and a self-assured smile. The sight filled her with a profound sense of pride and fulfillment. She had taken control of her narrative, claiming her own image as beautiful, strong, and worthy. She found herself standing there, rooted and grounded in her own power, savoring the warmth of her own strength radiating back at her.

Later, as she lay down beneath her covers. Jihyo felt a gentle warmth spread through her, a pride she hadn’t known until now. She no longer avoided her reflection or let insecurities cloud her view of herself. For the first time, she faced it head-on, proud of the strength and beauty that had been there all along. What she saw went far beyond appearances; she saw a confidence, a power, and a deep, abiding love for herself, whole and complete.

As the moonlight cast a soft, ethereal glow on the mirror beside her bed, her heart filled with gratitude, her mind resting in calm acceptance. She no longer questioned her worth or doubted her beauty. Her journey had led her here, to a place where she could finally see herself clearly.

And as her eyes fluttered closed, a gentle smile softened her lips, her heart quietly affirming the truth she had come to know:

She is truly and undeniably beautiful.

[noblebynura]

How does one writer writes a movie/show inserts for X Readers?? Do you guys write as you watch the movie or do you go off from the movie's transcripts?

[hannahbarberra162]

Struck Twice By Lightning, Ch. 14

18+ MDNI

on Ao3

All the other chapters

I think this will be the last chapter I update this work with for a long while. I am stuck on how to end it in a satisfactory way. Sorry for the lackluster ending, I would rather leave it unfinished than publish something I don't like.

That being said, feel free to give me ideas. I do have a double secret (not actually that bad) yandere ending because of course I do, but I wanted to write a fluffy ending first.

“Who owns this pussy?” You moaned as Shanks’s unrelenting cock speared through your sopping folds. His hand was at the crown of your head, yanking at your hair, pulling your head back. You were bent over the table you’d just eaten dinner on, being pounded from behind by your husband. Your legs were spread wide by his own, taking what he gave you.

“You d-do,” you replied, hips being slammed harshly against the wood table. Marco was right, it was difficult to make Shanks overtly jealous. But what fun it was when he felt that way. You’d be deliciously bruised tomorrow but it was worth it.

“That’s my good little wife.” You arched your back off the table, trying to shift slightly. Shanks pushed your head down to the table, but carefully so as not to hurt you. “Every inch of you is mine to do with as I please. Who do you serve?” Shanks took his hand out of your hair and rolled your clit between his calloused fingers.

“You, Shanks.” You knew you were going to come soon, but you tried to hold out.

“Who do you trust?”

“You, S-shanks.” 

“Who do you love?” Shanks’s efforts redoubled, his fingers stroking you while you fluttered around his length, struggling to match his pace.

“Y-you, Shanks.” You’d done this call and response many times before, years ago. It always settled into your bones, making you feel protected and valued. This time was no different, his call to you as his wife as marking as the tattoo on your thigh.

“Who do you come for?” Your keen answered for you as you came around him, sucking him into your messy cunt. Shanks pounded you through the whole way, chasing his own high. He came right after you, filling your sore pussy. He laid on top of you, smushing you to the table, both of you breathing heavily.

“Who do you come for?” Shanks repeated quietly, kissing the middle of your sweaty back.

“You, Shanks,” you panted, still out of breath. You pushed yourself up on your arms, turning your head to kiss him softly. “You, Shanks,” you repeated. He pulled out, but was still squishing you against the table. You could feel the mess dripping down your thighs. It had been intense and fun and he’d made your legs quake just like he said he would.

“I’m hungry,” Shanks said a few moments later, biting your shoulder gently. 

“Well, you spent your whole meal with your hand up my skirt rather than eating, so yeah, I’d imagine you are. I think there are some leftovers,” you said, squeezing yourself away from the table.

“Some things must be done. It is what it is,” Shanks said, raising one shoulder. You were in the adjoining kitchen, making him a plate of food. You put a few of your homemade pickles on there too, you knew he liked anything pickled.

“Ah, they must be done. Is that why you fucked me in the exact spot Marco was sitting at?” Shanks shrugged again.

“Is that where he sat? I didn’t even notice.” Shanks tried for nonchalance but you’d known him for too long for that. You hummed, handing him the plate. He tried to walk back to the living room. You blocked his way with your arms outstretched.

“Absolutely not. In the kitchen.” Shanks pouted.

“But I wanted -”

“To eat in my chair, I know. No.” You crossed your arms over your chest and Shanks’s eyes followed your movement, looking you up and down.

“No to that too,” you said preemptively. Shanks’s mouth dropped open in mild outrage.

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“You don’t have to. I’m not having sex with you in the chair.” Shanks huffed but sat down at the table. 

“That’s not fair.” 

“What did you say to me before?” You tapped your lip in fake contemplation. “Oh yeah, Captain’s orders. I’m the Captain of this house. No eating in the living room.”

“That’s not how Captain’s orders work,” Shanks said with a mouth full of food.

“You wouldn’t know, you’re not the Captain of the house,” you replied mirthfully. Shanks laughed too and saluted you with the pickle on his fork.

~

You were getting ready for bed, exhausted to the bones. Shanks was meandering around, looking and commenting on your knick knacks. You didn’t know how he still had energy, you figured it was from doing nothing most days of the week and conserving it.

“Aww, I remember this,” Shanks said, lifting up a small golden cross on a necklace. He pulled on the longest part of the cross to reveal a tiny little knife, no longer than half your pinky finger. “Mihawk gave this to you when he found out we’d married. It matches the one he wears.” 

You turned to him, one eyebrow raised. “So that doesn’t make you jealous?” 

Shanks scoffed. “Of course not, it was a wedding gift.” 

“In his card, Mihawk said I should 'cut you down in his stead' and offered me lessons.” 

“An excellent gift for newlyweds. I think the first anniversary is the weapon anniversary.” He was rummaging around, looking at old objects, curios you’d gotten in the past decade, recipes you’d clipped. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, if anything, or if he was just investigating. Shanks was naturally curious, like a little ginger cat on the prowl. 

“Look at you ,” he said, flashing you an old photo he’d found. You were in a microscopically tiny bikini with an arm slung around a girlfriend, smiling widely. You had sunglasses on, drinks in your hand, and a tan with no lines. “Where’s this suit? Bring it back with us?” Shanks asked hopefully.

You hummed and took the photo from his hand, looking it over. You remembered this trip well - it wasn’t long after you’d left Shanks, you and a girlfriend had taken a trip to a summer island known for its parties. You tried to drink away your sorrow but it hadn’t worked. It just left your bank account drained, your liver wrecked, and your heart still broken. You did look good though. You put it back on the shelf he’d plucked it from and got into bed. Pure bliss, you thought, as you lay between your sheets. Shanks’s bed was nice, but yours was better.

“Maybe. I don’t know where it is honestly.” Shanks had already moved on and was investigating your bedroom as you tried to finish your night routine. He opened the little drawer on the bedside table on his side of the bed and he made a satisfied grunt. You knew immediately what he’d found.

“There they are.” He had your engagement and wedding rings on his pinky finger and was admiring them in the moonlight. The set was nothing ostentatious, they were bands of yellow gold with a small bezel set ruby for the engagement ring. Shanks had bought them for you after the one of the first times you’d been hurt around him. You had twisted your ankle and he was carrying you back to the ship. As he carried you, the two of you passed a jewelry store. Shanks deposited you on the wooden bench in front, instructed you to wait there, and went inside. Fifteen minutes later, he proposed, saying how he couldn’t live without you, that he always wanted you near to protect you, that he needed you. At the time you felt treasured and cherished, and readily accepted despite your shock at the abrupt proposal. 

You’d always loved the rings and the way they looked, that was never the issue. The problem had always been the man who came with them. “Do you want to wear them again?” Shanks asked, still turning them over. You hesitated, getting in the bed. When you didn’t answer he looked at you. “It’s OK if you don’t,” he said gently, putting them back down. 

You turned the thought over in your mind. For years, you couldn’t even look at the rings, the physical symbol of your relationship, a mockery of the treatment you’d received by Shanks. But you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of them either. So you’d stuck them in the drawer on the side of the bed you didn’t sleep on and tried to forget they were there. But now, it seemed like you were being pushed back together with Shanks by the tides themselves. He wasn’t pressuring you, you knew if you told Shanks to back off, he would. Hell, if you wanted you could probably get your own cabin on the ship if you asked. 

“I’ll think about it. Bring ‘em on the ship with us.” Shanks brightened with your answer, crawling into bed beside you. His eyes slid shut as he wiggled on the bed, getting the full effect of your pillowtop mattress cover. 

“Whoa. This is…this is nice.” 

“Mmm, you’re not the only one who likes a good mattress.” Shanks’s bed was nice, but you’d missed your own. It was a four poster wooden bed and you’d strung garlands between the posts. Yours was decidedly more feminine and a little fancier, but that was one of the perks of living on land and not a ship. 

“Let’s bring this too, it’s even better than mine,” Shanks said while yawning. 

“At this rate, we’ll be bringing all my furniture with us back to the ship.” 

“Mm, excellent idea, babe. You’ve got great taste in men and furniture.” You closed your eyes. That wasn’t what you meant, but you couldn’t argue every point with Shanks. Well, you could, but you were tired and he was relentless. Sighing instead, you tucked yourself under your husband’s arm, and he pulled you closer. You fell asleep easily to the sounds of your husband’s even breath.

~~~

You supervised as the crew was moving some of your belongings to the ship the following morning. There was grumbling, you assumed they were all hungover. To thank them, you opened a barrel of pickles you’d kept preserving over the time you’d been gone. And yes, you promised them sake after they were done. To be fair, moving your stuff was a lot of work. Not only was some of it heavy and cumbersome, but it seemed like Shanks wanted to move everything you owned onto the ship. You had to keep sending him back into the house to leave various belongings.

“No, we’re not bringing that, put it back,” you said offhand to Shanks while watching Beckman carry your mattress with Yasopp. Shanks was holding your wooden sword rack from your living room. 

“But why? I could use it at night to put-” 

“You have one sword. It doesn’t need a rack. I have a bunch. Put the rack back on the wall and my swords back on the rack.” He was going to dismantle everything you owned at this rate. He set down the rack on the ground and instead took another pickle from the barrel you’d put outside.

“We could bring all your swords?” Shanks mused.

“No, they stay here. We have enough swords on the -”

“Hey!! Be careful Lucky! That’s important!” Shanks yelled out, sword rack forgotten. You looked over, and unsurprisingly, Lucky was carrying the armchair. 

“You could help, you know!” the chef yelled back, sweating from exertion. Yeah, the chair was heavy. You knew because you’d tried to move it a few times yourself. Shanks looked like he might put down the pickle he was munching on and help, which was saying a lot. 

In the end, you had the guys bring your mattress, your chair, and a few trunks of clothes, towels, and blankets. You’d been using Shanks’s aboard the Red Force and you weren’t sure if Shanks knew that towels had to be washed. Like, regularly. Howling Gab and Limejuice begged you to bring your crocs and make more pickles. The men had eaten their way through all the pickles you’d made, which was both impressive and disgusting. It wasn’t making sake, but bringing the huge clay jars would give you something to do on the ship.

Walking through your now disheveled house for one last time, you felt a little sad knowing it wouldn’t be your place of refuge anymore. You’d spent so much of your life here, making it into a home you could be proud of. But there wasn’t anything to be done, you needed to leave for your own safety. You fiddled with the wedding rings you now wore on a chain around your neck. Sighing, you felt the smooth wood of the front door under your palm as you shut it, not bothering to lock it. Shanks was waiting for you, waiting to see if you wanted to be left alone or have him by your side. You put your head on his shoulder, he patted it gently and gave you a chaste kiss on the temple.

“We’ll be back, it’s not forever,” he said quietly. You knew you could come back to your house again, but it wouldn't be the same. It felt like a chapter in your life closed and a new one began.  You kissed Shanks on the cheek, put your hand in his, and walked back together towards the ship.