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svtswhorehouse · 7 months ago

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HIS BEST GIRL

pairings: bad boy!mingyu x good girl!reader genre: mdni, smut warnings: smoking, blowjob gone wrong ????, mentions of mingyu having a monster cock (IT’S A JOKE), oral (m), mingyu trying to orally cock train reader, reader overestimating her abilities, inexperienced reader, mentions of gagging, a few coughing fits, the reader cries, experienced mingyu, MINOR subspace, reader just wants to be called a good girl, she's kinda a brat ngl, some fluff idk how to describe it, mentions of mingyu being a mean dom, he doesn’t cum y’all sorry word count: 3.8k synopsis: with a face and body like kim mingyu, girls tend to swoon and flock around him. you’ve learned to tune out the conversations overtime, but when your mouth seems a little more…stuffed, you begin to realize that maybe the monster cock rumors are true after all.

sidenote: reader is close childhood friends with ALL of seventeen and i will be writing other members with this particular oc as well. so much lore pls feel free to ask questions !! this a series, so enjoy :)

𐙚 previous + next 𐙚

Big, big, big.

You let out a whimper, doe eyes rolling up to look at the man peering down at you. Your lips were wrapped firmly around his cock, struggling as he inched himself further and further into your mouth.

So big.

He was so damn big.

From arms to chest, it came as no surprise that Kim Mingyu was a man that worked hard for his body. He tended to coup himself up at the gym, spending hours upon hours lifting weights to gain the muscle he had acquired over the years. As expected, his cock was larger than most, if not, the biggest you have ever seen and the biggest you could have ever possibly imagined. Despite hearing the constant gossip amongst the girls on campus, you have finally gotten a chance to see for yourself and needless to say the monster cock rumors were true.

You have not a clue how you managed to find yourself in this position. In fact, you actually had no clue how you’ve been managing to find yourself in a lot of positions lately. After your escapade with Jeonghan a few days before, it left you excited, eager, and ready for more. You had always been one for learning new things and that intimate experience with him had opened up a whole new world for you – one in which you have never ventured in before.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you did your best to take what Mingyu was giving you. He was only less than half way in and there was still so much more to go. It was impossible. You were sure of it.

It would never fit.

Mingyu however, despite your idling thoughts, loved a good challenge. He knew you could take it. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but he was sure that with just a little bit more practice, he could train you to take his cock with ease.

“Relax.” He said monotonously. His eyes were focused on where his length disappeared into your mouth, a groan forcing to escape from his lips. “You’re fine.” He reassured you as he stilled his hips while you gathered yourself. “Just breathe.”

Listening to him, you took slow breaths through your nose while you adjusted to the foreign feeling of something in your mouth. If it wasn’t his length that killed you, it would most definitely be his girth. It had only been a few minutes and your jaw was beginning to ache already.

It was painfully obvious that you have never done this before and it was embarrassing to say the least. You were sure that other girls in which he has been with managed to take him easily without any complaint, so much more different from you and your lack of experience. For some reason you had the sudden need to show him that you could be just like those girls, maybe even better.

Making a decision that you were in fact not ready for, you rested a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and attempted to slide your mouth further down his cock. However, you definitely seemed to overestimate your abilities as you slightly gagged when it went a little too far and caused you to let out a muffled cough.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Mingyu made a sound of disapproval as he watched you. He fisted at your ponytail, using your hair as leverage to gently pull you up and off of him.

A whine escaped from your lips as soon as his tip slipped out. In such little time you had found yourself used to the feeling of something occupying your mouth and now that it was gone you didn’t enjoy the loss. You tried to dive back on him, but you were met with resistance instead. Mingyu’s hand snaked it’s way to your face as he lent forward on the couch to be somewhat eye level with you.

“What did I tell you?” He asked with a stern voice. His fingers gripped at your jaw to keep you in place, making sure you didn’t shy away from the angry look he was sending your way.

Your eyes were quick to fill with tears, not liking both his tone and the sudden confrontation. You were never the type of person who was fond of getting reprimanded – not when you were younger and not now as well. You tried to avert your attention to elsewhere, but Mingyu tsked in dissatisfaction.

“Nuh-uh. Look at me.”

You typically tended to listen very well in any circumstance so needless to say it came as a surprise that you were acting a little out of the ordinary today. Your behavior was almost beginning to get somewhat bratty and Mingyu could only hope that it wouldn’t continue.

“What did I say?” He asked again. “Before we started this. What did we agree on?”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous. “To take it slow.” You answered softly, your voice fading out as you spoke the words.

“Mhm.” He nodded. “So why are we rushing things huh? I told you it’s not going to happen in one day, didn’t I?”

You shrugged, vaguely remembering that it took some time convincing Mingyu to allow you to suck him off. It was your first time doing this, let alone the second time doing something sexual altogether and he knew that. He made it very clear that if this was going to happen, it was going to go his way. However, seems like you had the wrong idea in mind for “his way” because according from what you’ve heard about Mingyu around campus, he never goes easy. It was always endless gossip about fast and hard. Rough and messy. Mean and humiliating.

This was nothing like what you originally imagined it to be like, but quite frankly maybe that was exactly what you needed. Maybe Mingyu knew your limits better than you knew your own.

“M’ sorry.” You muttered as you looked down to fiddle with the ring on your finger.

Mingyu took a few seconds to respond, examining you instead. You didn’t take much of a liking to the way his eyes felt on your figure, causing you to shift around. He eventually opted to nod in response as he let go of your face.

For a second you thought he was done. That you blew your chances in learning how to give a blowjob and that was it – but instead he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, sparking it up and taking a long drag. Blowing the smoke up into the air, he leant back on the couch with his legs spread wide open. His cock stood tall in all it’s glory, hard and coated from your saliva. “Let’s try this again.”

You perked up immediately at the statement, sitting on your knees between his legs. The carpet dug into your skin, but you didn’t take any notice to the scratchy feeling, instead giving the man before you your undivided attention. He was indulging you and better yet, corrupting you.

With a hand resting on the back of your head and burning cigarette in the other, Mingyu led you back to his cock. He let his tip rest at your lips, swearing under his breath as he struggled hard not to slam right into your mouth from the sight of your innocent doe eyes peering up at him.

Never in all of the years he had known you, did Mingyu think you two would ever be in this position. He was a menace in the bedroom, a hard dom and on certain occasions a brat tamer. He normally went for the girls who he could throw around. The ones who would get on their knees for him with just the snap of his fingers alone and the ones who wouldn’t care if he didn’t hold back in which he never planned to do in the first place.

But this was different – this was you.

He wanted to move slower because although you didn’t know much about the joys of sex and pleasure, he did, and he also knew that you weren’t the type of person who could be easily thrusted into it. You were far too sheltered, far too nice, and far too pure.

“Gyu….” You whined, teetering on the edge of slight impatience. He was taking too long and you were beginning to get shy under his gaze.

The hint of desperation in your tone quickly snapped Mingyu out of his daydream and he jumped back into action soon after. “Open.” He ordered, to which you obeyed.

Your lips parted, mouth awaiting to be stuffed yet again. You almost looked like a puppy eager for it’s treat and Mingyu struggled to bite his tongue to hold back the degradation wanting to escape.

If it was anyone else – oh if it was anyone other than you, he would have made them cry. He would’ve made them beg, and he would’ve made them show him how much they wanted it. It was quite shocking what affect you had on him. Only you had the ability to make Kim Mingyu go soft.

“Good girl.” He praised, noticing that you followed his instructions well.

You found it rather difficult to contain a moan, your thighs pressing together as the words floated straight to your head. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as he took notice of the way you enjoyed being praised, just like he assumed you would.

The boys were always hard to read – all thirteen of them mostly silent and kept to themselves for almost the entirety of your life in which you’ve known them. However, for them, you were an open book. One in which they have read every single page to about a million times.

“Stick out your tongue.” He instructed.

Almost immediately, it darted out of your mouth causing dirty thoughts to flood the boy’s mind. You looked as if you belonged on the thumbnail of a porn video and for a second he seriously considered snapping a photo to keep for his eyes only.

Groaning, he shook his head. “You’re killing me Y/N.” With a now clear mind, Mingyu slapped the tip of his cock against your tongue. Your eyes narrowed in on it, the want and need to have it deep inside your mouth as opposed to him just teasing you.

But you were good and good girls don’t complain.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Mingyu finally slid himself into your mouth. He only allowed a good two inches in at first, slowly working his way up to what you managed to take before. The ache in your jaw began to make a comeback and you almost wished you were a hippo, for the first time in your life envying their ability to unhinge their own jaws.

You can take it. You can take it. You can take it.

Mingyu gently inched himself into your mouth little by little until he was eventually over the halfway mark. Yet again you took steady breaths through your nose to help calm yourself down as your eyes began to water. Pushing away the urge to cough you instead clutched the man’s knee, using it as your personal stress ball. The fogginess that was beginning to cloud your mind was progressively getting more difficult to ignore and you struggled to gather yourself as your thoughts drifted and you found it harder to think.

Mingyu steadied himself and locked his gaze on your face. He knew that look all too well – the one in which the lights were on, but no one’s home. He’s become quite accustomed to it, having seen it multiple times before with close to every rendezvous he’s had. This was the part in which he was supposed to humiliate and degrade. It was almost routine at this point. However, with one glance at the tears forming in your waterline, you just so happened to tug at his heartstrings.

“You good baby?” He asked, pulling a bit of himself out of your mouth to make it somewhat easier for you.

Barely registering his words, you paused for a beat to collect yourself before letting out a sound of assurance. Despite this however, Mingyu would seem to differ as the tears that were once threatening to fall surely enough went cascading down your face with just the blink of your eyes.

“You sure?” He asked again, refusing to move. The time he spent making you wait was driving you crazier by the minute and it didn’t help that he kept your ponytail wrapped around his hand to prevent you from moving.

You made a sound of approval yet again to give him the green light, this time being much more insistent with a little nod of your head.

You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to stop.

With a sigh, Mingyu bit his lip hesitating. Fortunately for you though, with him being distracted by his own thoughts, he made the mistake of loosening his grip on your hair by the slightest. You were quick to jump at the opportunity that suddenly arose, seemingly not having learned your lesson before – the one that invisibly states “it takes time to take a dick this god damn big.”

Instead of slowly pacing yourself further down his cock, in alternative you forced yourself much too quickly to slide in two more inches. Although a miniscule number to what most people might think, especially the already experienced – you could feel the tip of his cock drag against the back of your throat, the feeling hitting you like a hurricane. Your tears made an appearance once again, except now moving much more quickly and frequently down your cheeks as you tried your hardest not to gag. Your breathing picked up to assist with your struggle, swallowing around Mingyu’s cock when you realized you couldn’t inhale or exhale through your mouth. You reached a hand out, squeezing the man’s thigh a lot harder than you had before. The back of your throat felt raw and for a second you thought you might have possibly dislocated your jaw.

Mingyu was quick to throw his cigarette down on the ashtray, leaning forward as soon as he processed your actions. You felt his hand thread through your hair, using it to get a grip and pull you off his cock. When the tip finally slipped out of your mouth, you instantly broke out into a coughing fit, no longer being able to contain it. Amongst your struggle however, to Mingyu’s surprise, you still seemed to be so persistent as your hand reached out to grip at the base of him despite needing a break.

The man clenched his jaw, leaning in close to your face. “I’m gonna kill you.” He muttered, keeping a hand on you to provide a sense of space between you and his cock that for some unknown reason you seemed so eager to get back to.

This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He gave you an inch and you took a mile.

“I can –,” You coughed, “I can take it.”

Mingyu scoffed at your words, running his eyes over you to take in your state. You were a little bit short of a mess. Your eyes were glazed over, tears running down your face, and voice hoarse. You definitely could not take it. At least, not right now.

“Y/N…” He started, trailing off when you rested your chin on his thigh while looking up at him. You were visibly deflating with each second that passed and Mingyu didn’t like that he was the reason for it. He knew you, and he also knew that you were trying your absolute best to be good for him. “Sure you can sweetheart.” He continued, striving to reassure you as he tucked himself back into his sweatpants. “But maybe some other time, okay?”

You were not very happy with his answer and the whine of defiance that escaped your mouth let him know that. “Please Gyu, please.” You begged. “I’m fine, I promise.” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he ignored you, already knowing that you were going to try and get him to change his mind, but it was already set and the decision was final.

Scowling at the lack of his attention, before you could think, your hand came down on his leg rather hard, the smack ringing throughout the room.

“Hey.” Mingyu warned, tilting his head with his eyes set on yours sternly. “Quit it.” He said firmly, speaking through his teeth.

Your own eyes held his fierce ones, eventually backing down with a huff when you came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to win. Suddenly refusing to look at him, you abruptly got up from your spot between his legs. He watched you carefully, stare following you as you got seated on the couch farthest away from him in annoyance.

“Y/n…” He spoke your name, attempting to get your attention. You turned your head further to the side, ignoring him and not giving in. “Y/n.” He said much more strongly, however you still refused to to look in his direction. He let his gaze linger on you for a bit longer before chuckling to himself. “Brat.” He muttered under his breath, going to grab another cigarette to let off some steam.

Silence filled the room, you mostly keeping quiet because you were angry and him because he knew you were just being stubborn. Mingyu could not deal with that right now – at least, not in the way he normally would if it had been any other girl in your position.

You glanced over at him from time to time, looking away quickly whenever his eyes found yours. Your body was starting to get a little sluggish and for some odd reason your brain was fuzzy, but instead of making him aware of that, you kept it to yourself. The last thing you wanted to seem was weak. Mingyu however, is a lot smarter than that, especially in this category. He clocked the minor subspace you were slipping into as soon as it made an appearance, already knowing that there was a high chance in which you would fall into it knowing the person that you are.

Most virgins do anyways.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, propping your arm up on a cushion to lean against it. The only thing you craved at the moment was warmth and comfort. You would have went running to Seungcheol and Jeonghan like you typically did, the oldest two always being able to fill that void – however instead you stayed glued to your spot on the couch.

You wanted Mingyu at the moment and only Mingyu.

Your eyes seemed to do the speaking for you, not realizing that you were staring at him with a sad and defeated expression. Mingyu scanned you up and down, finding it hard to resist your infamous puppy dog eyes as unintentional as they were. Sighing, he beckoned you over with the nod of his head. “C’mere.”

You wavered, only jumping into action when he raised an eyebrow at your hesitance. Crawling forward on the couch, you perched yourself right beside him and curled up into his side. His arm wrapped around your body, the size of him compared to you being able to provide you with a sense of comfortability.

Silence filled the air once again as soon as you were in his arms and the only sound that could be heard was him taking an occasional drag of his cigarette. You had gotten acquainted to the smell over the years, the scent of it no longer bothering you. Watching the smoke linger in the air with each puff he took, a question lingered on the tip of your tongue.

“Can I try?” You asked, voice hopeful.

It took him by surprise to say the least. Never once have you shown any interest in the bad habits that himself and the boys picked up throughout the years they got older. Hell no, was the answer he was looking for in particular, but deciding you didn’t exactly need that blunt of a reply at the moment, he found something much nicer to deny your request. “Let’s move one step at a time hm?”

You nodded, understanding that he had already indulged in one thing new that you wanted to try today and now you were asking for too much. “Okay.”

With the conversation you two were having come to an end, Mingyu was finally able to have a moment of peace. He was a man that loved to party and loved playing music at full blast, however he also enjoyed the moments in which he could just let all the thoughts in his brain drift away.

It seemed to be different for you however because while his thoughts were relaxing, yours were spurring. You kept on taking small glances at his face, wanting to speak up, but also not bringing yourself to disturb his peace.

The ring on your finger went round and round in circles as you couldn’t stop fiddling and with each move of your hand it was driving Mingyu out of his comfortable state. Finally, after you had accidentally hit his stomach one too many times, he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Spit it out Y/n.”

You snapped your head up at him, not have expected him to speak. “Uhm….” You hesitated asking the question.

Another question. Mingyu hated questions.

“Was I –,” You stuttered, “Was I good?” Your voice was small and fragile. For a split second Mingyu thought you were going to breakdown into tears due to your own self doubt. He took in your composure, knowing exactly what your question entailed – you wanted to hear one thing in specific, the one thing you’ve been so intent on trying to be throughout this entire situation.

“Mhm.” He hummed, bringing his hand up to your head to pet at your hair. His fingers laced through your locks, gently scratching at your scalp. “You were such a good girl for me.”

A rush of giddiness coursed through you, but you were quick to push it down as your worrisome thoughts still stayed. “Really?” Your voice cracking this time as you asked again.

Shaking his head in approval, Mingyu kept playing with your hair as he tried to ease your worries away. After some time, he stopped to kiss your temple. “The best.”

You resisted the urge to giggle, pushing your face into his neck as you suddenly went shy from his words. That was the only thing you needed from him for today and it left you feeling much more than content.

Oh how you loved being praised and oh how you loved being called a good girl, especially by Mingyu – and that’s exactly what you planned on continuing to be, his best girl.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months ago

Note

Since you’re writing for Poppy Playtime again, may I request a sequel to the Janitor who is still at Playtime Co? The toys aren’t sure if they’re a ghost or just really good at hiding.

Oh I remember that one! Glad you do too ^^

Here's the first part for anyone curious

.........

Catnap

You were a survivor of the Hour of Joy...or so he thought.

A lone janitor? Working and listening to music throughout the slaughter?

It sounded impossible.

But after all the toys dragged the corpses down below to be eaten, you were still cleaning their blood off the steps 10 years later, somehow not feeling as terrified as any normal person would be.

Despite his best efforts, Catnap could never capture you.

Just when he's finally ready to pounce or thinks he has you cornered--you vanish before his very eyes, almost as if you were a ghost.

Yet you wear a gas mask through the clouds of red smoke, so...you must need it.

Therefore you must be a human who was really good at finding hiding spots he wasn't aware of.

But you can't hide forever.

Your luck will surely run out soon...right?

Dogday

The Playhouse had turned into a torture chamber for nonviolent toys and anyone who went against the Prototype's will according to Catnap.

That being said...why would you enter this place willingly? Why would you keep doing your job despite the horrors those two have orchestrated?

Surely one of them would've caught you by now...

But from within his cell, he catches glimpses of you cleaning the blood off the playstructures, or removing the corpse of a feral Mini Critter from his sight.

He tries calling out to you, but you never seem to hear him...

Maybe all the trauma and blood loss is making him hallucinate?

Or maybe it's the red smoke. Who knows?

He's not so sure anymore, and he doesn't count on you being able to help him.

Pianosaurus

Cleaning his enclosure was no small feat.

Sure, he wasn't a massive Bigger Body, but his hunger was about as great as theirs.

And he only sees you, the janitor, as a snack leaving themselves wide open.

His piano teeth have been malfunctioning, causing a tune to go off every once in a while.

That gives you an advantage, as it allows you to figure out where he is in proximity to you--even in total darkness.

After the Hour of Joy, Pianosaurus returns to his enclosure, finding you cleaning somebody's carcass so calmly.

Yet when he charges....you suddenly vanish, and he rams headfirst into a wall.

Since then, he hasn't been able to find you anywhere. But under Harley's orders, he stays put in that same place for years.

He can wait. He's a patient hunter.

Unfortunately for him, he'd never find you--yet you were there to witness his demise at the hands of Doey when another employee fell into his enclosure.

While you pitied him, it was best that his suffering ended.

Doey

He didn't partake in the killings (at least none that he could recall), but he's shocked to find you alive, cleaning blood off of a machine he was inspecting.

But how did a janitor get this far down into the facility without proper clearance?

"Hey, buddy! Are you......huh??? Where did you go????" In the blink of an eye, you're gone.

He hears footsteps, but doesn't find you when he tries following their sound.

Did you go down some secret path he wasn't aware of?

He keeps catching glimpses of you in No Man's land, as well as in the caverns around Safe Haven.

Despite his best efforts, he could never quite catch up to you, even with his doughy abilities and dozens of shortcuts.

But somehow, throughout the years, you've been finding Mini Critters and Huggies/Kissies to bring to him, and they all claim that you've spoken to them and cleaned their wounds.

Yet for some reason...you either couldn't or wouldn't visit Safe Haven yourself.

He understands why, but...he just wanted to thank you for helping innocent toys find safety here.

#clanask #anonymous #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #doey the doughman #pianosaurus #dogday #catnap #headcanons #janitor reader #ghost reader

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scarekat · 2 months ago

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smut.

izuku’s been thinking about this all day, coming home after three weeks and seeing you cooking a wonderful meal and greeting him with that pretty face.

it was late when dinner filled your stomachs, he took a nice warm bath and was enjoying time with you before calling it a night. he was exhausted, but he missed you more.

he couldn’t get those stupid thoughts out of his head. you had asked him how the mission was, how you were watching the news and how you thought he was amazing out there. “i can’t believe deku is my boyfriend, i’m so lucky!” no, he’s the lucky one.

he couldn’t remember what caused it, maybe it was the praise, maybe it was how your hand slowly inched closer and his mind went wild with possibilities.

izuku throws an arm over his eyes in embarrassment, face red and choked noises coming from his throat. it felt like he couldn’t breathe, gasping between gritted teeth and his hips jerk.

green eyes flicker to look up at you, the lights dimmed but he had no trouble seeing the sweet smile on your cheeks.

you see the fresh bandage wraps as well as discolored, smattering of old scars that peek from his torso, lifting his t shirt up until it lands on the seat next to you, running your fingertips over his bare chest, hearing a shaky breath when you tweak his nipple.

“don’t- no teasing,” he says.

“m sorry.” and you listen, nails dragging over his stomach to the string that confined the bulge in his sweats.

he lifts his hips off the couch when you start to pull them down, and you gawk when his dick springs forth, flushed red and hanging under its own weight. izuku shrinks under your gaze. every time.

he twitches as precum leaks from the tip, and you use your thumb to spread it around. he mumbles inaudible, your soft hand moving up and down his shaft, squeezing just a little every now and then.

“you’ve been working so hard. i’ll take care of you, baby.”

television echoing voices that meshes into nothing as he melted into the couch pillows that cooled his burning skin. “harder,” he begs, and you listen.

the wet noises and your sweet praises while you jerk him off as if five minutes ago you weren’t just telling him about your day out shopping with your girl friends, how you bought a new dress that you couldn’t wait to show him later.

“come on, weren’t you just begging me to touch you? “ izuku’s heartbeat picks up. “is my hand not enough, baby?” you move up to the head and give small pumps there, his dick lubed up with pre so it was easier for your hand to move now.

“no, no.. swear i’m almost—”

“yeah? say it. i wanna hear you tell me.”

he’s climbing higher and higher, now the one thrusting into your hand while you watch him pant and squirm. he whines your name in broken syllables. “cmon.. need you to say it,” you continue to jerk him off to your own tune, the thickness of his arousal staining your fingers white.

izuku’s face contorts and his hands are grasping and clutching onto anything, it was obvious he was trying to hold back. “too much, i’m gonna —uh— gonna cum, please.. love, can i?”

izuku jolts when you quickly get on your knees in front of him, you spread his thighs further. his breath hitched when your lips brush over the leaking tip.

“i want you inside my mouth, i know how much you love it.”

oh. maybe he died while on the mission and this was heaven, watching the bulbous head slip passed your lips and hit the back of your throat. he wasn’t the biggest in size—but you were never able to fit him entirely in your mouth.

tears gather at the covers of your eyes, hollowing your cheeks as you kept going.

he loses his ability to speak, head lolling back and pathetic moans heighten. a hand finds home on the back of your head, helping you find the pace he craved for.

“—call now and buy one, get one free! limited tv time offer!”

he opened his eyes and happened to glance at the tv, there was a commercial playing, seemingly for this clothing brand releasing a limited edition deku pajama set in a couple weeks. he still needed to find it online.. for you, of course.

wait, why would he have to buy it? it’s his own merch. couldn’t he get it for free, have it delivered home for you as a surprise.

suddenly he’s seeing lewd images of you, the top pushed up, showing dark green lingerie and the delicate stitching looks perfect against your skin, his hands trailing up and down your body…

“i wore this just for you,” you moan against his lips, hand on his and guiding him to squeeze your breast. “touch me, izuku, feeling your hands on my body turns me on so much—“

“oh, jeez..” izuku yanks you off entirely, your lips wet and swollen, a drooling mess, he wipes at the corner of your mouth, and you open wide, sucking on his finger. “don’t waste it, ‘kay?” and he pulls you back down on him, slowly picking up the pace.

after a minute his thrusts turn sloppy, hurried, a fair cry from his lips “you’re so good to me, so good” as he becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure.

his hips buckled under you and without warning, you feel spurts of cum hit your tongue, unloading inside your mouth. whispers from the back of his throat as one wave poured after the other, mind numbing delight made his legs shake.

your muffled moans fall on deaf ears as he thinks about nothing but the pleasure flowing through his veins as he holds you still. izuku finally goes limp, releasing the tight grip on your hair.

you let go with a gasp and keep pumping his cock, your spit mixed with cum dripping onto his skin—he made a mess. don’t waste it. your tongue slides up the shaft, gathering the slick before giving one last kiss.

izuku catches his breath, watching as you stand up and lift your shirt over your head. “y/n, what are you doing?”

your fingers hook at the belt loops on your pants, slowly tugging them down. “i’m undressing.”

the smirk on your face makes him shake his head, scratching at his freckled cheek while glancing away. “ah.. uh.. i see that but..”

“what’s wrong?” you ask, neatly folded clothes placed on the opposite arm rest, staring at the hero with a quirked eyebrow.

“nothing! nothing at all, promise! i don’t want you to think you have to, just because i got a little .. you know—“ you realize what he’s trying to say, crawling back onto his lap.

he holds you steady, squeezing the fat of your ass. izuku laughs at the way you jumped. you two meet in the middle, lips meshing in a kiss.

your hands grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck, tongue darting past parted lips and he deepens the kiss. he tastes himself on your tongue, but he doesn’t mind it.

you cradle his face after a good time of exploring each others mouths, pulling away briefly, his eyes searching yours.

you don’t give him time to collect himself when you grind against him just a little bit, reaching up to brush the dark strands out of his face.

“i would have jumped you the second you walked through the door, izu.” you tease. “besides, you’re still hard..”

izuku could feel you drag his cock up and down your wet slit, teasing before you nudge him past your folds.

you go slow, having not prepared yourself for his girth but it was worth the stretch, seeing that look on his face as you take him.

he winces as he filled you completely, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his already exhausted body. you relax and work yourself open for him, fully seated on his cock and izuku’s eyes fall closed.

all he could feel was hot pleasure of you clenching around him, the thick veins dragging against your cunt with each roll of your hips, he bites his lip to try and stop himself from groaning too loud, a metallic taste on his tongue.

“stop that.” izuku gulps hard when he hears your voice in his ear, warm breath on his cheek. oh god, he’s gonna pass out —“i wanna hear you, baby, don’t you fucking dare hold back on me.”

he keens into your touch, he watches you stick out your tongue and his eyes nearly roll back when you lick at the wound on his bottom lip, moans tied together in harmony. “you feel so- so good inside me.. i never want you to leave.”

slowly he starts to thrust his hips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you chase the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls, he grunts each time you sink down on him.

izuku’s hands hover over your waist, almost hesitant. you shake your head, “please touch me.”

so he does. he doesn’t rush your pace, letting you take control. big hands ghosting along your hips, his thumb smoothed over the plush skin of your inner thighs. “look, izuku,” his eyes follow your hand, trailing down your stomach to where you both met. “i’m sucking you in, see that? oh, i’ve missed you so much.”

“yeah?” his mouth waters at the sight of you taking him whole, using him as you so please, it will always feel like the first time. “was thinkin’ of you the whole time too.” izuku watches your breasts bounce in front of his face before he reaches around to cup one, warm in the palms of his hands.

“so beautiful,” he pulls one of your nipples into his mouth, gentle with his teeth before leaving wet kisses. “getting bold, are you?” he hears, and a response bubbles in his throat but it’s cut short when a hand wraps around his neck.

you don’t say a word, he didn’t realize you stopped moving, pressure is applied on his throat, not too much and not too little, but it sends a tingling feeling from his fingertips to his toes.

he gasps when you press a kiss on his cheeks, turning his head to find your gaze, and you can’t help but give in. he kisses you back hard, it’s almost bruising until his lips naturally part to let out a groan.

god, he’s never felt so amazing and pathetic, like winning and losing at the same time. dick twitches inside you, the sensations drive him crazy as his hips snap into yours.

“no, slow down, izuku.” your voice clouds his mind, “don’t hurt yourself.” and he forces himself to nod, dropping his head back and your soft hands start roaming. there’s a throbbing tension in the pit of your stomach.

“i’ve waited so long to have you like this again, driving me fucking crazy,” you tell him. “love you.”

“i- i love you too. sososo much, oh my god,” he groans, cheeks flushed pink and his mouth twitches cutely every time you clench around his cock.

you take the opportunity to shove a finger in his gaping mouth, hooking his lower jaw as you ride him faster.

his eyes brighten, sucking on your digit before sinking his teeth into it. “good, yeah? ‘s good for you too?” his words were slurred, shaky and breathless, you melt at how desperate he looked for affirmation, and you nod fervently. “it’s amazing, baby.”

he was now the one moving you, peering up at you through half-lidded eyes. his lungs feel hot, jaw aching from how hard he’s trying to hold back as you whine his name and his name only.

izuku. izuku. izuku.

you throw your head back, struggling to delay your climax as a white heat starts to build up inside. his hands are kneading and clutching erratically at your ass, spreading you open, very obvious that he’s hurtling towards the edge with you.

“please, y/n. let me!”

“oh god.. you look so good like this.. so—fuck, perfect! go ahead.. you deserve it” and he doesn’t waste a second to flip you over, one hand propping himself up while the other slides between your bodies, fingers curling tightly into his palm as a thumb hones in on your puffy clit.

you see stars as his cock slides in and out with ease, the feel of him spreading you wide and his thumb rubbing tight circles already building pressure deep inside.

“yesyes, just like that baby” you can’t help the words, stuttering when he reaches even deeper. your head tosses back, jaw going slack as he fucks you into the couch cushions.

the wet noises from your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the sound of skin slapping against yours, it was becoming overwhelming.

all izuku wanted was to get you over the edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp around his weeping cock. the pent-up energy inside him dispelling with each hard rut of his hips.

the more you twitched around him, the more he rocked into you, weak for the sounds you made. but after a while, the steady rhythm, he was aching for more. “you can be rougher with me,” you say, “i trust you.” it makes him falter for only a moment, desires itching at the back of his mind.

he won’t hesitate anymore.

then izuku straightens up, each of his thrusts had his dick kissing your cervix, fingernails digging as he fucked your hips in the air.

you were so close, and it seemed like you weren’t the only one— his thrusts are picking up again, faster and harder each time, keeping you right where he wants you.

he felt his ego growing bigger. it makes him dizzy. a little too excited, too ballsy.

“pretty little thing,” izuku chokes out, your body arching as tears gather in your eyes, nodding pathetically as you feel the room spin with how well he fills you up.

all thoughts left his head, it was primal, rough. just what you asked for. “getting taken by a strong hero, y- you like it huh? should’ve told me.. y/n—,”

“yes! i love it, you’re so fuckin’ hot.” it was a delicious friction, as your breath and movements became one, a constant of backs and forths.

“izuku, wanna cum inside?” you’re panting, not breaking eye contact, and he almost busts right then. he never gets to cum inside, maybe he was in heaven.

“fuck, please.. are you—”

“it’s okay. just.. a little bit.. more. can you do that?” it seems to encourage him, izuku nodding frantically, getting faster, sloppier; moaning louder than he probably should be.

his muscles rippled from the increase speed as his hips met yours, again and again, making sure his pelvis bullied your aching clit with each movement. burying his cock and hitting that spongy sweet spot inside your cunt that made you gush.

your breath gets ragged, moans get louder, body more desperate as you spasm and tighten around him.

his eyebrows pinch together, he almost looks in pain before his features melt into absolute bliss. he couldn’t wait to feel your sweet cunt milk him for all he’s worth.

“don’t stop! don’t stop, i’mso close” izuku adjusts his weight, caging you in even more, sweat from the tip of his nose, lips brushing against yours but never truly meeting. you could feel him everywhere.

“feel so good, like you were made for me.. i need you to cum so i can give you what you want, yea? c’mon, please baby. i’ve got you.”

it was sweet, rushed, you see a different look in his eyes that rendered you quiet. how could you refuse when he was asking so nicely?

one final thrust, so deep and hard it almost hurts, and your body exclaims it’s joy before your voice does, crumbling underneath him.

a broken sound escapes your lips when you come undone around him, clawing at his skin as everything hits you like a storm, like a burst of pleasure and it spreads through your entire body. it feels like the air was punched out of his lungs, your pussy clamping down on him, shuddering.

“oh, shit” his entire body was shaking, thrusting in a stuttering pattern before rough hands pull you into a tight embrace, canines biting into your shoulder.

it makes you dizzy in the best ways.

izuku lets out an moan, rumbling deep from his chest and pure ecstasy washes over. his hot seed filling you up, rutting his hips, he couldn’t help it, fucking the cum that seeped out back into you.

eventually the hero relaxes, panting out as he rides out the last bit of the high with you, kissing the mark he left— surprisingly he didn’t break skin.

your skin was sticky, a result of the unruly act, a mess on the cushions that would so fun to clean up. busy staring up at the ceiling, his heavy breathing fills the silence between you.

“i really needed that,” you can’t help but giggle, finally catching your breath, and he responded with a hum.

izuku never was able to stay conscious for long after sex.

you turn his head to look at you, mouths colliding in intimate kisses, sweet i love you’s as it feels like time has stopped, cock still buried inside you. izuku’s scarred hands caress your face.

he was in no state to think, muscles ache and and his vision was hazy.. his eyes barely stay open when you pulled away from a kiss.

izuku winces when your nails dig into his shoulder, cinching his hair to get his attention and maybe jostle some sense back into his mind. “is my baby so fucked out that he can’t even kiss me back anymore?”

“mmm yes? let’s sleep.. then we can go again..”

#midoriya izuku x reader smut #izuku midoriya x reader #deku smut #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #anime smut #izuku x reader #deku x reader smut #bnha smut #my work

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hiraethwrote · 9 months ago

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NEVER GOT YOUR NAME

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader ✧ summary: based of this drabble — you're ex is borderline harassing you. he just will not leave you alone, and in a desperate attempt to get him off your back, you tell a little white lie. in panic, you grab the first stranger to walk by and introduce him as your date ✧ cw: fluff, light profanity, one little comment about previous sexual relationship, arguing, word vomit ngl (i'm describing too much sorry) pining, reader is smaller than satoru, mild use of petnames, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.5k

He was a menace. A true and genuine menace, who seemed to have some sort of natural ability in finding you, no matter where you were.

Maybe getting a restraining order was the next step — there was no way he managed to just randomly run into at the rate that he was, whether that was in the grocery store, the gas station or just on the street. No, he had to be stalking you, right? The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give this guy, your god awful ex, the privilege of fulfilling his desires of bumping into you.

Yet, here you stood in front of him again.

His eyebrows pinched together, an innocent little smirk tilting his mouth crooked, feeding you the same lines he always did.

“Great seeing you again,” like you hadn’t ran into him not even three days ago. “You look fantastic, as always. How’ve you been, sweets?” Urgh, one of the many nicknames he had named you — your stomach turning at the sound of it. You were scared you might actually hurl.

“Stop calling me that,” you demanded, keeping your voice low. He always managed to bring your anger right to the surface, to which you had to use all your energy not to blow up in his face. It had already happened once, about two months after you broke up with him. You had raised your voice at him and lashed out, causing some random bystander to interfere — who had then proceed to take his side. Unbelievable, as if he wasn’t the one who had taken you for granted for the entirety of your relationship.

“Sorry, old habits die hard, you know.” So full of shit. You’d been broken up for months, there shouldn’t have been any problem dropping the pet names. He only did it as a tactic to try and manipulate you into his arms again. And to think you willingly used to sleep with this guy. “Since we’re both here, why don’t we grab lunch together?”

“Oh, please,” you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’ll be good for us, sweets-“ don’t punch him, don’t punch him, don’t punch him. “Maybe we can talk some things-“

“I’m actually here on a date!”

Finally he shut up, only for his face to twist into an expression of pure disgust. It was clear the idea had never even crossed his mind — and you would have been able to enjoy his agony had it not been for the fact that it was a complete and utter lie, thrown out in a moment of desperation.

What were you to do when your ex decided to wait around for your date to arrive, and he never showed? You could already picture his face — the patronising pity he would pay you, while you’d be able to read his satisfaction behind his eyes, as he would use it against you for months to come.

You had only bought yourself some time and you needed to think fast.

“Who? I mean, do I know them? Have you met them before?” He stuttered out questions of bewilderment as your limbs were growing ever more frantic at your side.

And then the bell above the entrance of the cafe chimed a sweet tune, eyes snapping towards the sound. “Ah, there he is!” Your arms acted on their own accord, hands grabbing onto the bicep of the person who had been so unfortunate to walk in right as you were spiralling.

Swallowing the worst of your anxiety, you dared turn your head towards the random person, hoping to god he wasn’t ugly (because that would just be yet another thing your ex would badger you about).

Due to his height, you had to angle your head more than expected to meet his piercing eyes that were ogling you with complete confusion — but you only had time to take in his appearance for a slit second before you shot him a pleading look, betting everything on the off chance that he would be able to read the situation — but also finding it in himself to play along to your little performance.

Your fingers squeezed lightly at his arm, bringing him back to reality. Then it only took him a second to make up his mind, the white haired stranger wiping off his confusion and confidently throwing his muscular arm across your shoulders. Once he turned to face your ex, he had painted his features with the smuggest grin one could imagine, revealing a charming dimple.

He tilted forward slightly, which only brought more attention to how much taller he was than your ex, and shot his hand out between them. “Satoru, pleasure to meet you.” His tone matched his expression, not a single speckle of insecurity to pick up on anywhere. Your ex stared at his hand with disdain before begrudgingly accepting the gesture and introducing himself in return. “Hm, don’t think she’s mentioned you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, not expecting this Satoru to take his role so seriously — and then put on an award winning show right off the bat, nonetheless. Was it finally your turn to be blessed by the universe with some good karma in the shape of the most perfect stranger to deal with the situation?

Turning to take a quick glance at your ex, you had to press your lips together to choke back the cackle that threatened to escape. His expression was priceless, Satoru’s innocent little comment rolling of his tongue so effortlessly, causing a slight twitch in your ex’s eye.

“Well, I’m her-“ then he cleared his throat, struggling to finish his sentence. You weren’t surprised his title died in his throat, having never really accepted the fact that the relationship with over.

“He’s my ex,” you said, finding some courage to casually place your hand on Satoru’s chest, hoping and begging you weren’t making him uncomfortable by crossing a line.

“Aaah, your ex,” this Satoru trialed off with an awkward raise of the eyebrows before he turned to look at you again. That’s when you finally got to take a proper look at his breathtaking eyes, the whole ocean trapped in his irises. But you couldn’t let yourself fall completely mesmerised — you shook off the affect his piercing eyes seemed to have. “Sorry I’m running a little late. I stopped by the bookstore down the street to see if they had that book you recommended on our first date.” Then he served you what seemed like a genuine smile.

Stop, not the time to admire the handsome stranger!

You bashfully tilted your head forward while the sweetest chuckle traveled past your lips, also having to sell the performance. “How sweet of you to remember.”

“Of course!” He smoothly removed his arm from your shoulder to slide it along your back, moving it in comforting circles — but he never let it travel too far.

Your ex had his glare glued to Satoru’s gesture, unable to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Never got around to that one,” your ex said with an awkward, forced laugh in an attempt to shift the attention back to him. He probably thought he was being charming (he always thought he was), but his little comment only gave you another reminder to why you had broken up with him — he never cared about your interests, as he couldn’t be bothered to pick up your favourite book, no matter how many times you had asked him if he could at least give it a try.

“Huh, how unfortunate.” Again, your ex couldn’t conceal the little reaction Satoru caused in his face by his incredibly taunting tone.

He cleared his throat again, and you could see how he was grasping at straws trying to redeem himself. “So, what do you have planned?” It wasn’t too obvious, but you could tell — you could tell he asked as a challenge, certain your “date” wouldn’t be able to suffice an answer that would leave him satisfied.

You opened your mouth to answer, but only managed to take a breath before Satoru had already started his lengthy explanation. “Well, first I’m taking her out for lunch, obviously,” he mused, taking a quick glance around your surroundings. “And I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I got us entrance tickets for the botanical garden uptown. She told me she’s been wanting to go for months.” Then he turned to look at you.

He said it with such a genuine smile painting the corner of his lips, both of you letting the eye contact linger for a second. For once you were thankful for your ex, because if it wasn’t for him drawing Satoru’s alluring eyes away, you were scared you might just have found yourself swooning a little.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” your ex chuckled in response with a nonchalant eye roll, “she might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Hm,” Satoru huffed, sucking in his cheeks and eyeing him up and down

Pathetic was really the only word that Satoru would use to best describe the individual in front of him. He just seemed so puny, reeking of insecurity, only amplified by how he had so easily went along with the lie of a botanical garden — something Satoru had just pulled from the top of his head.

A huge, nervous lump traveled down his throat as Satoru held his gaze hostage, his dominant behaviour easily smothering any sprinkle of confidence your ex might have possessed at one point — all by just being there. And it was just so satisfying that it was finally your turn to watch your no-good ex being the one who was tormented for once.

“Well-“ his voice cracked the slightest, Satoru pursing his lips in amusement at the little slip, “I have to get going now. I’ll see you around,” stumbling over his words as his face shyly grew redder. Then he just turned on his heel and left, leaving no time for you to even say goodbye.

Satoru instantly felt your body relax at his side with a deep exhale, the hand that had shyly rested on his chest with modesty falling the second the door was shut — and once you took a step in front of him, he became hyper aware of how close to him you had been the entire time. With the sudden absence of your body next to his, he realised how perfectly you had just seemed to fit next to him. Nearly as if you had been made simply to be by his side.

And stood in front of him, he finally got the chance to take a look at you. A proper look at you, and damn, you were beautiful. Your eyes were kind, which amazed him considering the unpleasant encounter that had just taken place.

The chuckle you’d faked along with his act was still resting on your lips, but now it definitely seemed more real — warm.

“Thank you so much!” You gushed, “I am so sorry I just dragged you into that! I was panicking.”

Satoru watched intently as you spoke, unable to peer his eyes off you. His attention held on to every syllable, entirely captivated by your person, eyes roaming your face to take in every little detail there was to observe.

“Shit,” you suddenly interrupted yourself, taking a glance at your watch.

“I never caught-“

“I really wish I could stay and treat you for lunch, as thanks,” you cut him off, seemingly not even acknowledging how he had tried to speak, rummaging through your bag frantically before pulling out your wallet, “but because of him I’m running late. So, here, take this,” you chuckled lightly while stuffing his hands full of cash. “I really appreciate what you did!” Satoru was barely able to decode what you were saying as it all came tumbling out in one breath.

Continuing to spew a string of thank you’s, you quickly backed out of the cafe, his eyes following you as you jogged lightly down the street and out of sight.

Satoru was left utterly baffled, simply ogling the vacated spot you had occupied seconds ago.

Of all the times Satoru would end up tongue tied, this was the worst possible moment — he was cursing himself relentlessly for not being quick enough to demand a name, and now you were just gone, some random person he’d been lucky enough to cross paths with for a moment.

He knew he should just get on with his day — use the money you had gifted him and buy himself that sweet treat he wanted and forget about you. But he couldn’t — he wouldn't.

Had you just decided to walk into a random cafe you had just so happened to walk past that particular day?

Satoru certainly thought so. Because when he couldn’t rid you from his mind, he had gone back to that very same cafe, childlike optimism filling his body while he lingered the area, waiting for your figure to show.

It never did.

His patience quickly ran out, growing more restless every day that passed where he didn’t see you stroll down the street to return to the cafe to grab the lunch you never got to have.

He couldn’t let it rest in the hands of the universe any longer. After days of casually stalking the area, he decided to strut through the entrance of the building to simply ask.

“And how can I help you today, sir?” The sweet girl behind the counter mused, the perfect customer service smile greeting him as he leaned his entire weight in the edge of the counter.

“Hi there, remember me?”

He saw her shoulders rise slightly as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” yet another polite smile.

“I was in here about three weeks ago. Was with this really pretty girl-“

“Sir,” she gently interrupted him, still the same smile on her face, “we see hundred of faces every day. We have no way of remembering them all.”

His head fell back dramatically, huffing in disappointment as his fingers flexed against the marble top. “Thanks, anyway,” he mumbled quietly, shuffling over to a secluded table in the corner, sulking in his lonesome while his eyes were locked on the door, still filled with a light glimmer of hope that you would show.

It became routine — sitting in the same corner in the back, ordering the same thing while he waited for three hours everyday before he eventually had to leave, with a heavy heart, to attend to his duties.

And if the nice barista didn’t recognise him before, she definitely did now, walking over to his table and serving him his plate with a sympathetic smile. “No show today either?” The most theatrical sigh would leave his lips every time she asked the question, sad puppy dog eyes on display as he shook his head. “Sorry, buddy.”

“It’s getting a little sad, don’t you think?” Her coworker would comment once she rejoined her behind the counter, both of them keeping an eye on him with pinched eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a little romantic.”

Then they would share a look, some judgement passing between their eyes before they burst into innocent laughter, wondering how long they would get to witness his yearning before he eventually gave up his dreams of finding you again.

For days, Satoru’s head would snap towards the door every time the tiny bell rang, witnessing all sorts of people come to enjoy a little treat but not a single one of them fit your description.

Maybe this was just too hopeless? Tokyo was the most populated city in the world — bumping into the same person twice was like finding a needle in a high stack. Scratch that, it was like finding a rice grain in the great Sahara desert. But he kept praying, hoping the universe would bless him with his desire.

It was a perfectly okay day.

The temperature was nice — higher than expected for a mid-fall day — but the weather wasn’t much to brag about. For the past week it had been raining. Not pouring, but a light, constant drizzle that tapped quietly against the cafe window as Satoru stared mindlessly out at the scenery of concrete buildings and trees changing colour.

There was only a single string of hope that kept him sitting in that chair day after day, but it was destined to break soon. His head didn’t even turn towards the door anymore when that little bell rang with the familiar chime. He simply rested his chin in the palm of his hand, giving all the responsibility back to the universe.

The familiar barista came to his table, picking up the plate littered with only crumps and not one, but two, empty coffee mugs (that had been more sugar than coffee).

“Same time tomorrow?” She asked sweetly, wiping the table clean while balancing the dishes in her other hand.

He instantly wiped away his disappointment, plastering on the most convincing smile he could muster as he turned to face her. “I don’t think so.” She stared wide eyed at him, mouth parted into a shy ‘o’, a little disappointed to see him finally give up, having started to root for him a long time ago. “You’ve had exceptional service,” he beamed from ear to ear as he got up from his chair, her eyes never leaving him as he stood to tower over her.

He gave her one last tight lipped smile as he passed her. “Goodbye,” she stuttered quietly, keeping her pitying gaze on him as he headed for the exit.

The bell rang one last time, and Satoru was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hear the obnoxiously high-pitching ding again — his relief short lasted as he crashed into a figure smaller than himself the second he was about to exit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching- well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armour!”

What were the chances?

After all those days — waiting, staring, stuffing his face with sweets — and to think he was just about to give up. Maybe the universe had finally decided to take pity on him, wanting to reward his patience.

You looked as breathtaking as the day you had desperately latched onto his arm — maybe even better. You seemed lighter almost, as if someone had lifted off pounds from your shoulders. Same kind eyes, but a sense of peace glossing over them instead of frustration.

“It’s you,” it fell from his lips involuntary.

“In the flesh,” you chuckled. The sweet, vibrating sound faded into a clear of the throat when Satoru only continued to ogle you without a word. “Oh, sorry, you were leaving-“ you stuttered, stepping aside to let him pass. You were left confused when he didn’t walk past you, but rather kept his glare on you.

“I never got your name.”

“Sorry?” You asked, his voice too quiet to pick up on.

The same smug grin you’d seen on his face so many weeks ago greeted you, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “I never got your name,” more assertive now that he had increased his volume.

“Oh,” you said shyly, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Eyeing his attractive smile, you let your name roll off your tongue before mirroring his expression of happiness.

If it was even possible, his smile stretched even further across his face, the dimples you’d noticed last time appearing on each side of his face. “Nice to finally meet you. Properly this time.”

His natural charm just steamed off him in abundance, something you had only appreciated in glimpses in your stressed haze. “You too,” you smiled.

“I haven’t seen you here since that day.”

“Well, that’s because I haven’t been here since then,” you chucked nervously, glancing towards the register when you felt some interrogating eyes on you — both of the girls behind the counter wringing their heads away from you and Satoru. “My ex has had a tendency to linger in areas we ‘bump’ into each other,” you raise your fingers to gesture the quotation marks, “but I actually think meeting you might have scared him off for good. Haven’t seen him since, so thank you again.”

“Truly my pleasure,” he straightened his posture, his height growing even more impressive. He spoke your name, and despite not really knowing you, he said it with a tenderness your ex always lacked. “I was wondering,” he took a step closer, his eyes flittering between yours, “I owe you a trip to a botanical garden, don’t you think?”

Your breath instantly hitched in your throat, heat spreading modestly across your face.

Of course the handsome stranger who had come to your rescue in a moment of genuine despair had crossed your mind from time to time since then — you had just come to terms with the fact you would never be as lucky to cross paths with the polite stranger again. And the part of you that had been plagued with embarrassment was okay with that.

But the excitement in his eyes as he waited for you to answer slowly erased the uncomfortable feeling.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

tags (taglist form) @sad-darksoul ﾉ @05-simply-06-simping ﾉ @geniejunn ﾉ @alixris ﾉ @shadava

@gdamnackerman ﾉ @sunfl0werlevi ﾉ @gojonegs ﾉ @m0nsterzl0ve

@cupidxml ﾉ @lashaemorow ﾉ @cirquedelooney ﾉ @itsinherited

@elenor222 ﾉ @mima0127 ﾉ @lem-hhn ﾉ @mechanicalmari

a/n it's finally here and i think i'm happy with it... not entirely sure. think i've seen myself blind on this fic. however, thank you so much for the reception on the little drabble that took me literally ten minutes to write, hope this lives up to your expectations <3 likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated

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sleepymothafterhours · 4 months ago

Text

Torture to Love You, Can't Live Without You

Zayne x Reader angst

Reader is not MC, MC Dies so I guess you could call it major character death? Angst with kind of no ending?

---> Part two here <3

Fic warnings: Death, grief descriptions, unhappy marriage but they're literally just grieving,

This fic is not beta read, and has been edited to the best of my ability,

Word Count: 4,000

Divider credit in my pinned post <3

Full fic under the cut, I have a part two planned out if this fic does well,

At the end of the day there was always you and her. You'd never be her but you were content with that, in school she was a good rival and maybe at first it used to irk you how special everyone seemed to think she was but as you got closer you realized she never asked to be treated that way. Tara had introduced you, such a social butterfly that girl. On missions you fought well, you worked together with ease often getting paired up on more dangerous outings. The day she died it was like part of you went missing. You could only imagine how it was for her close friend.

The day she died haunted you like a ghost. It would've been you, i could've been you. She didn't have to do that for you.

She didn't have to do that for you.

You sat in front of Jenna's office with a letter in your hand. You'd been on leave for months, stuck with office work to do at home to ensure you at least got paid so you could live while you were recovering. The time was fast approaching for you to either go back to the field or pick something else. Everyone you knew expected you to go back. In a lot of ways it felt like a dishonor to your dear friend not to. But you just couldn't. No amount of therapy took away the nightmares and so far no amount of meds was taking away the pain in your body from your own injuries. No doctor could clear you for the field with the level of pain you were still experiencing. You didn't want to go back anyway, you were scared. You waited outside her office for her other meeting to finish.

What you hadn't expected was for Dr.Zayne to walk out of that room. Too busy staring at him and wondering why he was here you entirely missed what he was saying to you. "Are you alright?" He asked kneeling down to your level, he held a cup of water out for you. You took it gratefully, "I'm alright. Thank you, Dr.Zayne." You two only spoke in passing, even out with your mutual friends. "I trust you've been well? Since.." He trailed off like it pained him to talk about the accident, you nodded. "As well as I can. That's why I'm here. I'm leaving the field." You said, a hint of regret in your voice. Zayne nodded, by the time his mouth opened to say something the doors to Jenna's office were open, and you were already on the way inside.

---------

That was all you saw of him for a year and a half. You didn't keep up with him, and it wasn't like he actively sought you out. It was probably a miracle you even found each other again. He found you in your favorite coffee shop of all places, after you'd finished teaching your classes. Teaching exhausted you, but it kept food on your table, and in the words of others, ensured you could still honor your friend. Regardless, you sat in your corner of the building sipping hot chocolate and working on a research paper about protocores. You'd written a few things on wanderers, architecture in Linkon, whatever seemed to catch your interest for the moment. You spotted Zayne first, though you almost didn't recognize his face. It was strange how someone could change so much after just 18 months.

Had you changed that much?

Or did you still look the same as you had that day.

The thought of it made your skin crawl and you focused on your computer to get it out of your mind. You didn't notice his approach.

"Do you make a habit to tune out everything around you?" His voice brought you out of it, closing a tab as you looked up at him.

"Doctor, what a pleasant surprise." You said moving your computer to invite him to sit down. "I don't mean to ignore you. I was just focused, I do a lot of work here. Do you come here a lot as well Doctor?"

Zayne gives you a slight smile and you can't help but cheer internally at the gesture, "Please, just call me Zayne." He says, his gaze lingers on you as you slip your computer into your bag. "Don't let me interrupt your work. I should be off anyway." He says moving to stand again, you still don't know why you stopped him.

"No. No trouble at all. You can only read so many articles about the rise of protocore modifications before your head starts to spin. Sit with me? Please?" You don't know why you keep talking and Zayne doesn't know why he's sitting, he really ought to be heading back to the hospital.

Maybe you were both drowning and maybe it was just easier to sink together.

Maybe that was why things happened the way they did.

The two of you talked for hours. It was refreshing the way he didn't bring the accident up. The way he didn't bring up losing her. You suspected it was as much for your benefit as it was for him. After a year and a half of pulling yourself through the trenches you finally found yourself talking to someone who made you feel, normal, it was like coming up for air after being trapped in a lake.

"I am happy to see you well after everything." Zayne says after a moment. "Is teaching future hunters as fulfilling as you found hunting to be?"

The truth? It nowhere close. But you don't hate it.

"It has its moments. I do enjoy what I do. And after everything I.." You trail off, struggling to find the right words. "I'm happy I could find a way to stay in this career. Regardless of what I'm doing." It was the most roundabout way you've ever told someone no, and you can tell that Zayne sees right through it. You wished you could have stayed.

He nods, "Maybe fate will take you back." He said giving you an almost soft look.

"You've written quite a bit about your research on Protocore syndrome right?" You ask, the silence that had drawn between the two of you becoming too much to bear. He nods, "Are you going to the gala in a couple weeks? They're celebrating some of the works that recently came out. I thought I saw you on the list they sent out."

He nods again, "I admit I was hoping to see you there." His ears redden as he says this and you can't help the smile that comes to your face.

"i was hoping the same. Everyone else is some old far or some posh snob who's never actually seen what its like out here, Ya know?" You take a sip of your drink, now long cold, "It'd be nice to have someone there that I know." Zayne nods his agreement to this and the conversation moves on for another hour, until you have to leave.

You thank him for sitting with you for so long, picking up your bag and discarding your drink. He stops you again before you can leave the table.

"Do you wanna go to the Gala with me?" his words make your heart skip and you find yourself nodding before you can even really put thought into it.

---------

Zayne came crashing into your life similarly to the way a snowstorm did, expected but sudden. He was always there in a lot of ways during your time as a hunter, you had enough mutual friends to at least know of him. The transition from acquaintance to friend was so subtle you didn't notice, you met weekly for coffee at the cafe when you could, or he'd find you there after work.

Then suddenly you knew his coffee order, and were taking him coffee and dinner during late nights in his office.

There were nights you would talk, and the two of you would have dinner in his office, you'd never been around someone who was so easy to talk to, Zayne just understood.

At one point you'd stayed to talk so long that you ended up eating dinner together, it was dark by the time you went to leave, and Zayne had insisted on taking you home.

He'd kissed you that night. After months of you thinking he was uninterested in anything more than simply colleagues.

You both got so busy that after you could do hardly more than text each other, it took a month of wondering if he'd meant to do it or not, a month for him to ask you out.

He proposed after four years, conveniently the night before another gala much like the one you'd gone to together before you got close.

Once again you were both being recognized for a lot of your work and researches, him, a deeper dive into protocore syndrome, you, a paper on how Evols affect personality traits and how that can be managed for people with more explosive evols and personalities. You used your relationship with Zayne a lot in that paper, with two completely clashing evols it was hard sometimes to get by.

Fire and ice,

maybe that was a sign you should've thought about before.

---------

You looked like the perfect couple. For awhile you felt like it too. You couldn't tell what happened. The two of you were doing better finally. You honored her every year on the day, holding each other and helping each other get through your grief everyday. You knew he loved you. You knew he loved her and you respected that. You understood as well as you could.

After your honeymoon you fell back into your routine, teach in the day, take Zayne lunch during your time to plan, go home and grade papers until he gives you a call that he should be home within the hour. You made dinner and the two of you spent time together until you fell asleep on the couch. Zayne would carry you to bed despite the countless times that you told him to wake you.

You couldn't pin point the day it all started going down hill. But you knew that it had something to do with the mission that dragged you back into hunting, the intercom ringing in your ears and the voice of an OTTO bot calling for every trained hunter in the building. Every student was to go back to their dorm. You tried, to leave with the students, with a soft spoken, "I don't do that anymore." said mostly to yourself as you followed students out to the dorms.

That was until you heard the cry. A little girl trapped under a building, you ran before your feet could keep up with you, the grace you learned in your training never left you, a hunter caught up with you, a student from a few years back. He helped you lift the bean that had trapped the girl and looked to you for direction. "Get her to safety and meet me a few blocks up." You ran the other way the minute he nodded right towards danger, right where you weren't supposed to be going.

Right where you wanted to be.

After the fight you assisted with cleanup, carefully avoiding the eyes of your old boss as you helped a little boy step into an ambulance. Zayne found you shortly after, sitting on a stump and bandaging your arm, people had begun to go home but the cut was pretty bad and you wanted to take care of it before you left.

"You're hurt." He said kneeling down to take the bandages out of your hands, "This is too tight, let me help?" His voice was soft, you couldn't tell if he was worried, angry or both. You nodded and carefully he unwrapped the bandage and began to clean it. "Sorry I broke routine tonight." you blurted, you weren't really thinking when you said, wrapped up in the crackling of a fire somewhere near you, and his laugh filling your ears. A laugh?

"My love. You're bleeding, but you're sorry for..breaking routine?" He looked up at you befuddled, his hands stopping their work on your injury. You shrugged, "You never cease to amaze me." He said after a moment. "We're going home. And we're ordering whatever you want for dinner and you are going to rest." His voice was more firm than normal and when your boss came over to you finally he seemed to stand slightly in front of you as if to keep her from taking you from him too.

She joked about you coming back, you told her you were just following instruction. The announcement called for all hunters. You politely declined her offer and stiffened when she joked about how you could make more if you came back. Zayne brushed her off for you, saying something about getting you home to ensure your arm healed.

The silence in the car home was almost unbearable. "She's right ya know." You said softly, "I'd make a lot more back in the field." Zayne kept his focus on the road but you could tell the words bothered him.

"We don't really need it. You and I are doing just fine." You slumped back in your seat at his words. "You never did it for the money anyway. Do you want to go back?" He asks and you can't answer right away. The answer used to be no, you used to be too scared but somewhere down the line you missed the danger, you missed the fire you had within you that had dimmed after the accident. Your evol felt suppressed from only being used to heat the forgotten teas you took to work or occasionally to light a gas stove.

You'd smothered your fire as best you could all these years but yet it still seemed to roar within, and consume you with every passing day. The answer should have been no but you couldn't bear lie to the man next to you.

"No." You waited too long to say anything,

"You've always been bad at lying." He's stopped at a light and turns to you to move a piece of your hair, you can see he almost looks defeated when you say nothing in response to this.

--------

If you could have pinpointed the minute, maybe even the second that he had started being distant from you, colder even, maybe you could have prevented it, but it was so hard to realize it was happening when he acted the exact same in public as he had before. He followed his routines almost to a T but he spent more and more time at work. Often coming home to you asleep on the couch waiting for him, until eventually he found you already in bed when he got there, always careful not to wake you when he climbed into bed. You could pinpoint the night he stopped holding you by the way your heart began to ache for it immediately.

It took 3 months to transition back into your old job and ever since it was like you lived with a ghost. He was gone when you woke for work, he was gone when you came home but there was always a dish in the drying rack and a paper on the counter that he had left behind to prove his existence. At least you could be sure he hadn't moved into his office even though every other piece of evidence told you otherwise. The times he was home with you it was like he was on another planet, that was if you could get him out of his office at the house for more than two seconds. His affection had a cold bite to it that made you stop seeking it and when he looked in your eyes it was almost clear all he saw in them was her. His coldness did nothing but make you more persistent at first. But after so long you just grew tired, you loved him with everything in you couldn't he understand that?

You liked to imagine that there was another life where you both weren't so different. But maybe in another life he ends up with her in the end, maybe there's a universe where she isn't a wedge in your relationship maybe you won't be together in this life, not the way you want but in the next... Maybe you just have to wait. What a cursed thin g love was.

He stood in front of you now for the first time in months, Tara had invited you both for drinks after work, a nice little place just a block away from your house, you were gonna walk together.

"You look lovely." He says and there's a flicker of something in his eyes that gives you hope that maybe he's looking at you for real this time, but then its gone. He's looking right through you.

Your response is as calm as you could manage to be, "I'm surprised you noticed."

The two of you left, making the walk there in a comfortable silence. Zayne played the dutiful husband role well. He held your hand, he held open the door for you, took your coat, pulled out your chair. To anyone else he looked so smitten with you, and you him. You shook your thoughts out of your mind, you were here tonight to have fun.

You didn't drink often, nor did you drink much. You figured offering him a sip of your drink would be fine, and he must've too because he took it. The way he scrunched his face in disgust made you giggle, he took a bigger drink than you thought he would. "Here, have some water, are you okay?" You ask pushing a glass of ice water to him. He waves you away, takes the glass and drinks but tells you to focus on your friends.

You forgot how much of a lightweight he was. One drink was enough to get him at least tipsy? It would have been funny, if you weren't concerned.

You'd been talking to Tara. who gushed over the two of you whenever she saw you. "Really i don't know how you two do it. You looks so happy all the time." She's smiling as she speaks, the only time you've seen her without a smile on her face was just after incident, it used to annoy you how one person could be so happy but you found yourself unable to frown whenever she's around now.

"Trust me Tara I don't know how we do it either sometimes." She doesn't know how much truth there is to your words. How this is the first time in almost a year that Zayne has been so close to you. How this is the first time in months you've seen or talked to him for more than five minutes. That this is the first time he's wanted to be around you since you became a hunter again.

+++

Zayne only seems to get drunker as the night progressed despite the fact that he hadn't had anything else but water.

"I think I should get him home." You said giving your friends a smile, you'd paid for your drink, the one you hadn't finished, too busy making sure your husband doesn't fall out of his seat. You help him up, he's not exactly hard to move but the man is stubborn. "Baby c'mon, lets home, I'm tired." He concedes finally at your words and you walk home. He's leaning on you for support the whole way out of the bar, even as you nod to your friends and wish them a good night.

You have to stop for a little while, sitting him down, the air is cold. You try not to shiver. "How'd this even happen huh?" You tease him softly, holding his face in your hands. It feels normal for once.

"I'm sorry my love." his words are slurred and he notices your failed attempts to hide your shivering, wrapping his coat around you clumsily. "I love you." He's looking straight through you again through unfocused eyes.

"Do you." Its not a question. You two walk leaning on each other until you reach the house. You drop your keys trying to unlock the door. When he hands them to you, you hear it. A mistake. A slip of the tongue. Maybe he could claim he was drunk but it was clear.

He'd called you by her name.

You didn't say anything. He tried covering his mistake, you said nothing. Pushing past him into the medicine cabinet in your kitchen you grabbed water and ibuprofen and took some. You slid past his attempts to be close to you guiding him to your room.

He's distraught, you feel like you're falling to pieces. "Lie down." You instruct. "You're not gonna feel good in the mor-" He interrupts you as you're trying to cover him in a blanket.

"Talk to me. Please." He's pleading, his voice breaking, it used to hurt your heart to hear it, maybe it still does but you can't feel anything right now other than anger, you feel like your on fire.

"You're drunk."

"Talk to me." There are tears in his eyes.

"What is there to say, Zayne. You called me, by your dead best friends name." You sit at the edge of the bed. "I can't b angry I know you loved her. I know you want her. I just wish you wanted me the same way." You get up and go to make your way out of the room. You need to calm down, maybe you'll go for a walk, or have some tea.

Flicking the light off you hear it. A quiet sob, and a small "I'm sorry."

You can't help the words that leave your mouth. "Don't bother."

The light is off and the door is shut and you the minute you sit down on a stool in your kitchen island you break down. You felt like two puzzle pieces that fit together just fine but were from two separate puzzles. You took time to put yourself back together, eventually getting up to go to your room, apologize if he was still awake and go to bed hoping to fix whatever rift has been growing in your relationship. Your hand is on the door, you just need to open it.

Your phone rings.

You can see the light come on from your hunter watch in the bedroom.

Ignore it. Go to sleep. Fix this. That's what you're telling yourself.

You answer it before you can stop yourself.

"Hello?" Your voice cracks from your breakdown.

"Hey." Its a newer hunter, you'd been working with her for months. You were too scared to get closer to her but for now you didn't mind mentoring her. "Got a mission. You're on the way can I come get you?"

Her words are so scarily similar to what you told your best friend that night. You turn away from the door. "Let's go then."

How strange the universe was in the way it worked. How strange the parallel was. You put on your uniform in silence. Zayne had fallen asleep as far as you knew. You stopped by his side before you left, kissing his head softly. You don't say anything else as you leave.

Unbeknownst to you. He wasn't asleep, he heard the whole thing. He too noticed the parallels. He wouldn't sleep that night. Or the night after.

He was losing you and he didn't know how to stop it.

You were losing him and it felt like someone was carving your heart from your chest.

Sleepy moths after thoughts: Everytime i went to work on this fic I either got called into work, or my friends wanted to hang out, thats why it took so fuckin long. Hopefully the wait was worth it, Thanks for reading and thank you everyone who supported this fic <3

Taglist: @theink-stainedfolk , @alfredosaws , @sylv-1a , @cordidy , @leighsartworks216 , @midiplier , @melonssoup , @sw3etfawn111 , @dhunhdchrih , @i-messed-up-big-time , @fandomenbylover , @notisekais

@theophxbia cus i know pookie probably wants to read it (ILY BESTIE)

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candiiee · 3 months ago

Text

jealousy || valentines special

Izuku knew he didn’t have a right to be jealous. It’s not your fault you’re so perfect and pretty, always receiving valentines on this cursed day.

He wasn’t even dating you! he was a friend, and that was all he would be. he’d known you since you were five for god’s sake.

Maybe if he had the balls to confess during middle school, you two would be a thing. But he didn’t. He was too shy and cowardly, and still is. And he didn’t wanna drag you down back then. Maybe things were different now, that he had a quirk, he even had muscle.

Way different than the nerdy cry baby from middle school. Well..mostly. He was still a nerdy cry baby, but he was tuning it down! Improvement people, improvement.

He waited outside your dorm room, so you could head to class together. Some might call him a simp for waiting on your every heed and beck, but so what? If he enjoyed doing what you asked of him, that surely meant he was dependable. Perfect marriage material.

And maybe he was a little obsessive, already thinking of marriage when you weren’t even dating. But one could dream. So when you flashed him a winning smile as you opened the door to him, he found himself falling deeper into his fantasies, that he’d work the nerve to confess, that you’d return his feelings, that you’d share a sweet kiss..the mere thought of even touching your hand made him feel giddy.

Now in class, Izuku hardly paid any attention to Mr. Aizawa’s lesson, he’d already learned this a while ago. He had to be smart for you. How else could he become the top hero if he didn’t receive top marks? Of course, making copies of the lesson plans and learning subjects beforehand helped.

It was worth it, to hear your sweet voice compliment how smart he was. He would move mountains just to hear you praise him.

Lunch came, and Izuku dreaded it. All the valentines you ever got usually came from some idiots giving it to you during lunch.

He planted a fake smile, when the first imbecile came up. Some rando from the year below. Blushing and sputtering, as he gave you some chocolate. It made his stomach churn, ugly jealousy bubbling, making him want to vomit at the pure audacity of this miscreant.

You beamed, sharing your smile that was for him, and him alone. It was sickening. You thanked the second year, giving him a chocolate, making the poor boy flush even more. Pathetic. Izuku knew some people pulled off blushing. Like him, for example. You had even pointed it out, making him blush even more. Meanwhile this yahoo didn’t even pull it off. Disgusting.

And he was just the first.

Guy after guy came over, making him actually snap his chopsticks in half. It was only bearable because you gave izuku attention when he did that, looking so concerned. Maybe he should hurt himself some more. Though you’d kill him if he did that. When he got OFA , Izuku broke his bones left and right, making you worry.

Which he didn’t mean to, of course. He just wanted to hurry up and prove his worth! But when the doctors said if he continued to do so, he might lose the ability to use his arms. Which sounded awful to him. How could he even hug you? Caress you? Make love to you? Give you a ring?

He couldn’t do that if his arms were useless. so he made sure to figure out OFA quickly. Having a crush on someone and yearning to impress them is a very good motivator.

Finally lunch ended, and Izuku found himself breathing a huge sigh of relief. Finally.

Maybe he didn’t have a right to be jealous, if he didn’t even plan to confess today. Maybe he was a hypocrite. But he didn’t care. As long as you continued to stay single he was happy. Izuku was selfish when it came to you.

Izuku found himself dragging you to his room, to make sure that for the rest of the day you stayed in his sights and away from everyone else. Out of sight meant no one knew where you were, and if they didn’t know where you were, then that meant you wouldn’t receive any more valentines.

perfect.

you giggled as he pulled you into his room, making him flush. “What’s the hurry?” You asked, smiling in a way that made his knees go weak.

“W-well..I wanted to show you my new all might figure!” Izuku made up on the spot. It was technically true, he had recently purchased a new figure, and he didn’t wanna seem like a weirdo, taking you to his room for no reason.

”oh, nice!” You chirped, leaning forward to see it. “The details are very..detaily.”

Izuku smiled, pleased with the fact that despite the fact that you weren’t into All might as much as he was, you still bothered to make an effort to pay attention, which he loved about you.

you were perfect. And if anyone disagreed, well..then they were just not worthy of living! izuku frowned at the sudden dark thought that popped into his head. That was so unlike him. He shook his head, probably just a fluke.

You probably had dark thoughts every now and then as well. Though he was pretty sure that was impossible, you were absolutely perfect after all.

suddenly, you turned to look at him, smiling. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I forgot to give you my chocolate! It’s back in my room, I’ll go get it.”

chocolate? For him? Really? He flushed, “I-I can go get it for you!” He volunteered, making you smile.

“well, if you insist,” you said, and Izuku left, making his way to your room. Maybe he could steal, no, borrow a pencil or something from your room. The thought excited him.

he popped his head into your room, the unlocked door opening. There in your bed were the chocolates. He grabbed them, taking delicate care to make sure they didn’t squish. Maybe you two could even share!

he made sure to steal one of your pens, then returned, to find you sitting on his bed, his bed.

izuku flushed once again, thinking that you looked very nice sitting on his bed, almost as if you belonged there, the thought made him giddy.

You stood up, walking over. “I got you these chocolates cause I figured..someone as sweet as you needed something sweet too on Valentine’s Day!”

izuku grinned, “w-well, thank you! I appreciate it!”

you smiled, and before Izuku knew what was happening, he felt the soft brush of your lips against his cheek, his eyes widening-

izuku.exe has crashed.

when he came to, Izuku found his head resting on your lap, both of you on the floor. He turned beet red, immediately getting up, almost bashing you on the nose.

“Sorry for that,” you started to say, “I should have asked.”

Izuku shook his head, “n-no! It’s fine, I..I liked it.” he whispered softly. The atmosphere was perfect, he could practically see cherry blossoms behind you, he could confess to you.

you smiled, “I’m glad. You’re too sweet sometimes, Izuku.”

“I like you!” He blurted out suddenly, averting his eyes, his entire being turning red. You flushed in response, “wha-“ and before he lost his nerve, he leaned forward, and kissed you.

it felt soft. Your lips were soft. A tingly feeling spread across his whole body, and despite already his face being red, he somehow turned even redder. Izuku felt he was on cloud nine. He pulled away, praying that he didn’t end up getting slapped.

instead, he found himself getting pulled in for another. you kissed him!

you kissed him you kissed him you kissed him!!

Izuku could die happy now. What was that saying Denki always said? Ascending? Yeah, he was ascending. And if you kissed him again, that definitely means you’re now dating.

He practically had hearts in his eyes.

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kiwriteswords · 7 months ago

Note

Hey, may I request a Hotch x Reader age gap story, where she's in her late 20s and not a BAU member. I think it would be a nice little twist into their dynamic, also he's such a daddy. Much appreciated and thanks in advance.

The Girl Next Door

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I had a dream about Hotch being my neighbor the other day that sort-of inspired this one! Thanks for the request!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: Age Gap, Romantic Tension, Alcohol Consumption, Alcohol Mention, Insecurities, Mentions of Canon-Typical Plot Themes

Sypnosis: When you move into your new apartment, the last thing Aaron Hotchner expects is for his quiet, orderly life to be disrupted by his intriguing new neighbor. At first glance, you seem like a contradiction—poised, accomplished, and wise beyond your years, yet far younger than anyone else in the building. As a profiler, Aaron prides himself on his ability to read people, but you defy easy categorization, stirring something in him he hasn’t felt in years.

The day you moved into your new apartment, Aaron Hotchner wasn’t expecting much beyond the usual polite introduction. A quick hello in the hallway, a nod of acknowledgment over packages left at the concierge desk. But when the door across from his opened, and you stood there with a warm smile and an extended hand, it was as if something jolted awake in him.

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor,” you said, your voice confident yet gentle, the kind that demanded attention without trying. “I hope I’m not intruding. Just wanted to introduce myself.”

He shook your hand, taking note of the firm grip. His profiler’s instincts, so finely tuned, began to buzz. Your demeanor was composed, polished. You carried yourself as someone well-accustomed to holding their own in rooms filled with people twice your age. Yet, as he looked at you, he couldn’t reconcile your apparent youth with the sophisticated way you spoke or the fact that you could afford an apartment in a building like this one.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied, keeping his tone neutral. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

Your smile widened. “Aaron. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

He would have guessed you were in your early to late twenties if not for the depth in your gaze and the way you seemed to study him, as though cataloging details in the same way he was. But still, you couldn’t be older than thirty, could you? How could someone that young afford this building? Hotch, ever practical, knew he overpaid, even with his federal paycheck. And he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because he couldn’t peg you, and as a profiler, that was frustrating.

Weeks passed, and though your paths crossed occasionally—quick hellos in the elevator or casual small talk in the lobby—Hotch found himself thinking about you more than he cared to admit. You were intriguing, beautiful in a way that made his chest tighten when you smiled, and far too mature for him to simply brush off as someone fresh into the adult world. But he told himself it was nothing. Jack, now a teenager, occupied most of his thoughts, and the idea of pursuing a neighbor felt inappropriate. Unprofessional, even.

Still, after a grueling case that left a bitter taste in his mouth and the weight of mortality pressing heavy on his shoulders, Hotch let Rossi convince him to grab a drink at the bar near the BAU.

It was a dimly lit, intimate place that felt quieter than most bars in the city. Rossi nursed a scotch while Hotch stared at his whiskey, his mind elsewhere. He thought of the case, the current emptiness that filled his personal life with Jack beginning to pull away into his own world, and then that’s when he saw you.

You were sitting at the far end of the bar, a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other. The soft overhead light highlighted your features, and for a moment, Hotch forgot how to breathe. You seemed so at ease, lost in your book, unaware of the buzz of conversations around you.

“You’re staring,” Rossi said, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Hotch blinked, dragging his gaze back to his drink. “I wasn’t staring.” He almost mumbled it under his breath, feeling like a kid caught red-handed.

Rossi scoffed. “Sure you weren’t. Who is she?”

“She’s my neighbor,” Hotch admitted reluctantly. “She just moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Well, your neighbor has good taste in wine and literature,” Rossi remarked, glancing in your direction. “Go talk to her.”

Hotch shook his head, grimacing at the idea of making a move like that.. “She’s too young.”

Rossi raised an eyebrow. “How young are we talking?”

Hotch hesitated. “Late twenties, maybe. She looks young, but she doesn’t act it. It’s hard to tell. Either way, it would be inappropriate.”

“Why? Because she’s younger? Aaron, come on. She’s not a child.”

“I could be her father,” Hotch countered, his tone sharper than he intended; the words felt like poison on his lips. “What would she want with someone like me?”

Rossi leaned back in his chair, his expression amused. “You know, the younger ones have a way of keeping you young.”

Hotch rolled his eyes. “Not helping, Dave.”

Before Rossi could retort, you looked up from your book, your eyes landing on Hotch. Recognition lit up your face, and you smiled, raising a hand in a small wave. Hotch froze. The way you looked at him like you were genuinely happy to see him, made something in his chest ache.

“She’s smiling at you,” Rossi pointed out with a grin. “Now’s your chance.”

Hotch hesitated, his heart thundering in his chest. What would he even say? But then you beckoned him over with a tilt of your head, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner allowed himself to take a leap.

Hotch lingered for a moment too long, his feet rooted to the floor as he debated whether to stay put or heed Rossi’s unsolicited advice. He wasn’t sure if it was fear, pride, or something else entirely keeping him from standing up. The thought of your smile, though—warm and inviting as it was—made the decision harder.

Rossi, ever perceptive, patted him on the back with a grin. “Go on, Aaron. I’m heading out anyway. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow at his friend. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Rossi chuckled. “Fair enough. Let me put it this way—don’t think about it too much. You’re allowed to enjoy yourself, you know.”

And with that, Rossi tossed back the rest of his scotch, clapped Hotch on the shoulder one more time, and left Hotch standing alone with his swirling thoughts.

He exhaled, trying to quiet the insecurities gnawing at him. What could he possibly offer someone like you? Yet the way you had smiled at him just moments ago—so genuine, so effortless—spoke to something deeper. Maybe you didn’t see him the way he saw himself: older, wearier, with too many ghosts lingering in the corners of his mind. Maybe you just saw…him.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Hotch pushed back from the barstool, his steps steady but deliberate as he approached you. You glanced up as he neared, your smile widening. That warmth in your eyes—it was enough to melt some of the tension in his chest.

“Hey, Aaron,” you said, your voice carrying the kind of excitement that made it seem like you’d been hoping he’d show up. You patted the empty seat next to you. “Join me?”

He hesitated briefly before sitting down, your proximity somehow calming and unnerving at once. The soft scent of your perfume wrapped around him, and he caught himself lingering too long on the way your lips curved upward when you smiled.

“Nice choice,” you said, gesturing to the glass he’d brought with him. “I’d guess it’s a single malt whiskey. Neat.”

Hotch tilted his head, impressed. “That’s right.”

You chuckled, holding your own glass of wine. “You don’t strike me as anything less.”

His lips quirked in a subtle smile. “And what does that mean?”

“You’re precise,” you said easily, leaning slightly toward him. “Thoughtful, composed. Someone like you wouldn’t order anything overly sweet or complicated. You keep things simple, but you expect quality.”

He blinked, caught off guard by how accurately you had read him. It wasn’t often someone did that, not even outside his work at the BAU. Yet here you were, confidently pulling back the layers he thought he kept well hidden.

It also caught him off guard because here he was, someone who was taught to keep himself a mystery while reading others, but it was now the other way around. You read him like a book while he could not put his finger on what it was about you.

“You’re observant,” he remarked, lifting his glass. “Not many people would pick up on that.”

You shrugged, your smile modest but pleased. “I like to notice things. It’s useful.”

“You could’ve been a profiler,” he said without thinking, then quickly added, “Not that I’m suggesting a career change.”

You laughed softly, and the sound settled in his chest like warmth on a cold night. “I think I’ll stick to what I do for now.”

“And what is it you do?” he asked, genuinely curious. Despite your shared moments in the hallway and now this unexpected meeting, he realized he knew so little about you beyond the fact that you were maddeningly intriguing.

“I’m in finance,” you said, taking a sip of your wine. “Nothing too exciting, but it’s steady, and I’m good at it.”

That explained some things—your confidence, poise, and ability to afford an apartment in his building. Still, he found himself wondering how someone your age could have such a solid footing in life.

“You’re impressive,” he said honestly, surprising himself with the admission.

Your eyes sparkled, a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give out compliments lightly.”

He laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there, covering everything from favorite books to why this particular bar was a hidden gem. You were strikingly beautiful, yes, but it was your confidence and the way you carried yourself that held his attention. Yet, as much as he enjoyed your company, that familiar self-doubt crept in whenever the age gap came to mind.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” you said, interrupting his spiral.

“Just wondering,” he began carefully, “how someone so young ended up being so…accomplished.”

Your brow lifted slightly, and then you smiled, a touch of mischief in your expression. “Is that your way of asking how old I am?”

Hotch cleared his throat, a rare flicker of nervousness crossing his face. “I wouldn’t ask directly.”

“Well, for the record,” you said, leaning in just enough to make his pulse quicken, “I’m twenty-seven. And yes, I know I look younger. But I’ve worked hard to get here, and I don’t take it for granted.”

He nodded, letting your words sink in. Twenty-seven. It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with the brilliance of those younger than him, he’d worked side-by-side with Reid, more years than he could count, but the gap still gave him pause. There was no denying the respect he felt for you, nor the pull that kept him rooted to your side.

You tilted your head, studying him with a playful smile. “Did I pass whatever test you were giving me?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You weren’t being tested.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you teased before lifting your glass. “To new neighbors, then?”

Hotch clinked his glass against yours, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “To new neighbors.”

As you both sipped your drinks, Hotch couldn’t help but feel that maybe Rossi was right. Maybe it was okay to let himself enjoy something—or someone—good for a change.

As the bartender passed by, you reached for your wallet, signaling for the check. Hotch, noticing, set his own glass down and spoke before you could finish.

“I’ve got it,” he said firmly.

You looked up, slightly surprised. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist,” he replied, already sliding his card across the counter to the bartender. “Consider it a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gesture.”

There was a flicker of hesitation in your expression, but eventually, you smiled. “Well, thank you, Aaron. That’s very kind of you.”

He nodded, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction as the bartender returned his card. It wasn’t just about paying—it was the subtle act of taking care of you. Even though he’d only known you for a short while, the protective instinct that came naturally to him was already stirring. His line of work had shown him too much about the world, and the idea of you walking alone at night didn’t sit well.

As you both stood to leave, Hotch glanced at you. “Where’s your car?”

“Oh, I don’t have one,” you said, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. “I take public transportation to work. I was just going to grab a cab home.”

Hotch frowned slightly. The thought of you waiting for a cab at this hour didn’t sit right with him. “That’s not necessary. We’re going to the same place anyway—I’ll drive you.”

“Aaron, you really don’t have to do that,” you said, but there was a softness in your tone like you were touched by the offer.

“I insist,” he repeated, his voice steady but gentle. “It’s no trouble.”

For a moment, you studied him, then gave a small, amused shake of your head. “All right, if you’re sure. Thank you.”

The two of you walked out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Hotch instinctively slowed his pace to match yours, his hand twitching briefly at his side as though tempted to offer it. When you reached his car, he unlocked it and opened the passenger door for you.

“Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” you teased lightly as you slid into the seat.

Hotch smirked faintly as he closed the door and rounded to the driver’s side. “Not entirely.”

The ride started quietly, the hum of the engine filling the space. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur past, but after a moment, you turned to him.

“So,” you began, “do you always offer rides to your neighbors, or am I just special?”

Hotch’s lips curved in a faint smile as he kept his eyes on the road. “Let’s just say I don’t make a habit of it.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” you said, leaning back in the seat. “But you didn’t have to. I would’ve been fine.”

“I know,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “But...I’ve seen too much in my work to feel comfortable letting you take a cab alone.”

You tilted your head slightly, curious. “What is it you do, exactly?”

“I work for the FBI,” he said simply, glancing at you briefly before returning his focus to the road. “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

You blinked, clearly intrigued. “So you’re a profiler?”

“Something like that,” he admitted. “We study behavior to catch criminals. Serial offenders, mostly.”

“That explains why you’re so observant,” you said with a small smile. “And why you seem so serious all the time.”

He chuckled under his breath, a rare sound that surprised even him. “It comes with the territory.”

“Well,” you said, your tone thoughtful, “I think it’s a good thing. That you care enough to notice things, I mean.”

He glanced at you, caught off guard by the sincerity in your voice. “Thank you.”

The rest of the drive passed in a comfortable silence, the kind that felt natural rather than awkward. When Hotch pulled into the parking garage of your apartment building, he turned off the engine and looked at you.

“Thank you again,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “For the ride. And the drink.”

“It was no trouble,” he replied, his voice softer now.

You lingered for a moment, your hand on the door handle, before turning to him with a small smile. “You’re a good neighbor, Aaron.”

Hotch sat for a moment longer, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he watched you head toward the elevator. Something in the way you said his name lingered in his mind, a warmth spreading through him that he couldn’t quite explain.

He shook his head slightly, snapping himself out of it, and grabbed his keys before stepping out of the car. By the time he caught up to you at the elevator, you were already pressing the button for your floor.

“Thought you were going to stay in the car all night,” you teased lightly, glancing over at him as the elevator doors slid open.

“Just taking my time,” he replied, his voice steady but faintly amused as he stepped in beside you.

The elevator ride was quiet at first, the kind of comfortable silence that seemed to follow your conversations. Hotch leaned against the wall, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, while you stood with your arms crossed lightly over your chest. He caught himself glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in the relaxed way you carried yourself despite the late hour.

When the elevator doors opened onto your floor, you both stepped out and walked down the hall side by side. The muffled hum of the building at night—the soft whir of air vents and the occasional creak of floorboards—felt strangely intimate.

“I still can’t believe we live right across the hall from each other,” you said, breaking the silence as you reached your doors. You turned to face him, your expression playful. “Guess I’ll have to start baking cookies or something neighborly like that.”

He smirked faintly, a rare softness crossing his features. “I’m not sure I’d have time to return the favor.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll let it slide,” you said with a mock sigh, your grin widening.

You hesitated for a moment, your hand resting on the doorknob to your apartment. “Thank you again, Aaron. For everything tonight.”

He nodded, his dark eyes meeting yours. “It really wasn’t any trouble.”

As you unlocked your door and stepped inside, you glanced back at him one last time. “Goodnight, neighbor.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, watching as the door closed softly behind you.

For a moment, he stood there in the hallway, staring at your door. That same warmth from earlier crept through him, something he couldn’t quite name but wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Finally, with a small shake of his head, he turned and entered his own apartment, already wondering when he’d see you again.

The night you shared a ride home lingered in Aaron Hotchner’s mind longer than he cared to admit. He told himself it was nothing—just neighborly kindness—but the warmth in your voice when you said his name and the way you looked at him as if he weren’t just another face in the crowd were impossible to forget. There was something about you, something that stirred feelings he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain in years.

But life moved on. Cases came and went, the BAU’s relentless pace leaving little room for personal indulgences. Still, when he’d return home to the quiet comfort of his apartment, he often found himself glancing at your door across the hall, wondering what you might be doing, who you might be with. He chided himself for the thoughts—he was too old, too busy, and too set in his ways to be thinking of you like this.

It was a rare Saturday afternoon off when he found himself in the building’s mailroom with Jack. The teenager was practically vibrating with anticipation, tearing through envelopes in search of one in particular.

“Anything?” Hotch asked, glancing up from his own stack of bills and promotional flyers.

“Not yet,” Jack muttered, his brow furrowed as he sorted through the last few pieces of mail. “Do you think maybe it got lost?”

Hotch shook his head with a small smile. “It’ll come. Just be patient.”

The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention, and when he looked up, there you were, a cheerful smile lighting up your face as you entered the mailroom.

“Hey, neighbor,” you greeted, your eyes flicking between him and Jack. “And who’s this?”

“This is my son, Jack,” Hotch said, stepping aside slightly so you could get a better look. “Jack, this is our neighbor, [Your Name].”

Jack looked up from his stack of envelopes, offering a polite smile. “Hi.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” you said warmly. “You’re the spitting image of your dad, you know.”

Jack wrinkled his nose playfully, glancing at Hotch. “I hope not too much.”

You laughed, the sound drawing a small chuckle from Hotch as well. “What’s got you so focused on the mail today?” you asked Jack, noting his eager expression.

“I’m waiting to hear back about a summer art program I applied to,” Jack said, his tone hopeful but tinged with nervousness.

“Art? That’s fantastic!” you said, genuinely impressed. “What kind of art are you into?”

“Mostly sketching,” Jack replied, his shyness melting under your encouragement. “But I’ve been getting into painting too.”

“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” you said sincerely. “I’m sure they’d be lucky to have you.”

Jack smiled, visibly more relaxed in your presence. Hotch observed the interaction quietly, noting how effortlessly you connected with his son. It tugged at something deep in his chest, that mix of admiration and longing he was becoming all too familiar with around you.

“Oh, before I forget,” you said, turning to Hotch. “I’m throwing a little cocktail party at my place next Friday night to celebrate settling into the apartment. Nothing fancy, just a few friends and some good drinks. You and Jack should come.”

Hotch hesitated, his mind racing. A cocktail party? With your friends? He imagined himself standing awkwardly in a room full of people your age, wondering if he belonged there at all. But before he could respond, you added with a playful smile, “I really hope you’ll come. It won’t be the same without my favorite neighbor.”

The glimmer of hope in your tone, the sincerity in your smile—it made his chest tighten. Still, the self-conscious voice in his head whispered doubts. Would your friends think he was too old? Would you regret inviting him once he showed up?

“I’m not sure,” he said carefully, his voice steady but uncertain. “With my schedule, it can be hard to plan ahead.”

“Well,” you said, your tone light but insistent, “I’m holding out hope. And Jack, you’re more than welcome too. I’ll make sure we have something non-alcoholic that’s party-worthy.”

Jack grinned. “Thanks. I’ll see if I can convince him.”

Your laughter was warm, and it stayed with Hotch long after you left the mailroom, waving goodbye with a cheerful promise to see him soon. As you disappeared down the hallway, he felt that familiar tug again—part curiosity, part hope, and part fear.

Did he imagine the glimmer in your eyes the other night? The way your words seemed to linger just for him? Or was it possible—just possible—that there was something real here? Something worth risking the carefully constructed walls he’d built around himself to explore.

As Jack tugged his sleeve, reminding him they still had to sort the rest of the mail, Hotch shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. Whatever the answer, he couldn’t deny the pull you had on him. Maybe he’d find out next weekend.

Friday night found Aaron Hotchner in his office, the quiet hum of the BAU’s bullpen far below offering no distraction from the thoughts circling his mind. The stack of case files on his desk was unusually light for a change, and the rare lull in their schedule had granted him a night off. Yet, instead of heading home or unwinding with a book, he sat at his desk, his gaze fixed on the invitation you’d extended days earlier.

Jack was spending the night at a teammate’s house for a soccer sleepover, leaving Hotch without the comfortable excuse of parenting duties. But the thought of showing up at your party, surrounded by people your age, feeling out of place—it made him hesitate.

He was still mulling it over when a knock sounded at his office door. Looking up, he found Emily Prentiss leaning against the frame, a file folder in hand.

“Final report from the Clarke case,” she said, stepping inside and placing the folder on his desk. “You’re officially done for the night.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his tone clipped but polite.

Emily tilted her head, studying him with the kind of perceptiveness he usually reserved for himself. “You look…pensive. Something on your mind?”

For a moment, Hotch considered brushing her off, offering some vague comment about work or letting the conversation drop entirely. But then he remembered how much he valued openness among his team, a quality he wished they were better about embracing. Perhaps it was time to practice what he preached.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been invited to a cocktail party tonight. My neighbor’s hosting it.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, a slow smile forming on her lips. “A cocktail party? Sounds fancy. What’s the dilemma?”

“It’s not about the party itself,” he admitted. “It’s…her.”

Her curiosity sharpened, and she took a seat across from him. “Okay, now you have my attention. Tell me more about ‘her.’”

“She’s my neighbor,” he began, his voice even but hesitant. “She’s in her late twenties, successful, confident. We’ve talked a few times, and she’s…invited me tonight.”

Emily’s smile widened, though she kept her expression neutral enough not to tease. “And you’re debating whether or not to go because…?”

“Because I’m twice her age,” Hotch said bluntly. “Because I don’t want to feel like I don’t belong. And because I’m not sure if the interest I think I’m seeing from her is even real or if I’ve imagined it.”

Emily let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Hotch, you’re overthinking this. And so what? Age is just a number. What matters is the connection.”

Hotch’s brow furrowed. “It’s not that simple. She’s…young, full of life. I’m a widower with a teenage son and a career that doesn’t leave much room for anything else.”

“All the more reason to go,” Emily countered. “Look, you’ve spent years putting everyone else first—your son, your team, your cases. When was the last time you did something for yourself? Took a chance?”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the file in front of him. Emily leaned forward slightly, her tone softening.

“Hotch, you’re allowed to let yourself be happy. And from the way you’re talking about her, it sounds like she could be someone worth getting to know better.”

He glanced up at her, a flicker of uncertainty in his expression. “What if it’s inappropriate?”

“Now, you’re definitely over thinking this,” Emily snorted, “You’ll handle it like you handle everything else—with class and integrity,” she said with a shrug. “But you won’t know unless you try. And who knows? Maybe tonight’s just a party, or maybe it’s the start of something more. Either way, you owe it to yourself to find out.”

Hotch let her words sink in, the weight of his own self-doubt pressing against the hope he’d buried deep. Finally, he nodded, a small, almost reluctant smile forming on his lips.

“You’re relentless,” he said, his tone carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

“It’s part of my charm,” Emily replied, standing and smoothing out her blazer. “Now go home, get dressed, and show up. And Hotch?”

He looked up at her, his brows lifting slightly.

“Make a move,” she added with a grin. “You’ve got this.”

As she left his office, Hotch sat for a moment longer, her words echoing in his mind. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe it was time to take a chance.

With a deep breath, he grabbed his coat and headed out, the decision finally made. Tonight, he would go to your party. And maybe, just maybe, he’d find out if the glimmer of hope he thought he saw in your eyes was real.

Hotch stood outside your apartment door, adjusting his tie as he willed himself to ignore the nervous energy thrumming through him. It wasn’t nerves, not exactly, but something close—a self-consciousness he hadn’t felt in years. The faint sound of laughter and soft music spilled out from your apartment, and for a moment, he considered turning around.

But then he thought of the way you’d looked at him, the hope in your voice when you’d said you really wanted him to come. That was enough to steel his resolve. He took a breath and knocked.

When you opened the door, Hotch’s breath hitched. You stood there, radiant, wearing an outfit that was the perfect balance of elegance and allure. It hugged your figure just enough to make his pulse quicken, yet the overall effect was sophisticated and tasteful. The soft light from your apartment cast a warm glow over you, highlighting every curve and detail.

“Aaron,” you said, your face lighting up with a smile that felt like it was just for him. Before he could say anything, you stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug, catching him completely off guard.

“Hi,” he managed, his voice steady despite the way your touch had sent a jolt of something warm through him.

“I’m so glad you made it,” you said, pulling back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting briefly on his arms. “I’ve been wondering all night if you’d show.”

“I almost didn’t,” he admitted, his lips curving into a faint smile. “But I’m glad I did.”

You beamed at that, stepping aside to let him in. As Hotch entered, he took in the space, his eyes immediately drawn to the careful details of your apartment. It was stunning—every corner thoughtfully arranged, every piece of furniture and decor intentional. The warm, inviting tones of the room mirrored his own taste, but where his home was functional, yours was artfully executed.

Bookshelves lined one wall, filled to the brim with titles that made him want to linger and browse. His eyes caught on a few photographs interspersed among the shelves—travel shots, candid moments, and one of you laughing with someone who looked like an older family member. The charm of it all struck him immediately, and he couldn’t help but feel impressed.

“You’ve done an amazing job with this place,” he said, his tone genuine.

“Thank you,” you said, closing the door behind him. “I’m glad you like it. I put a lot of thought into it—wanted it to feel like home.”

“It does,” he said, glancing around again. “It suits you.”

You smiled at that, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then your expression shifted to one of curiosity. “Where’s Jack?”

“He had teenage obligations,” Hotch replied, a hint of humor in his tone. “A soccer sleepover.”

You laughed softly. “Of course. Well, I’m glad you could come. I know your schedule’s crazy, so it means a lot.”

He was about to respond when you gently touched his arm, guiding him further inside. “Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect as you led him toward the small group gathered in your living room. But as you began introducing him, your words caught him off guard.

“This is Aaron, my favorite neighbor and new friend,” you said warmly, gesturing to him with a smile.

Favorite neighbor. New friend. The way you said it was so easy, so unselfconscious, that it disarmed him entirely.

The group—five or six people, all older than he’d expected, not just a group of twenty-something-year-olds partying like he imagined—greeted him with nods and polite smiles. It was immediately clear that you surrounded yourself with maturity and wisdom, which made sense. You were wise beyond your years, someone who fit seamlessly into this crowd despite being the youngest by far.

Hotch felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders as you moved gracefully between your guests, checking on everyone while still managing to include him in the conversation. It wasn’t just your decorating style that impressed him—it was the way you carried yourself, the natural elegance and charm that seemed to radiate from you.

As the evening settled into a warm rhythm, Hotch found himself standing near one of your bookshelves, thumbing through the spine of a title that caught his eye. The sound of your laughter drifted from across the room, and he couldn’t help but glance in your direction. You were chatting animatedly with one of your coworkers, your smile radiant, your presence magnetic. He marveled at how effortlessly you moved through the room, making every guest feel like they were the most important person there.

A moment later, you appeared at his side, a delicate martini glass in your hand, the liquid inside a rich, dark brown.

“For you,” you said, holding it out with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, taking the glass cautiously. “And what exactly is this?”

“An espresso martini,” you replied, the corners of your mouth curling into a grin. “My specialty. I make a mean one, and I’m certain you’ll like it.”

He regarded the drink with a playfully suspicious look, tilting the glass slightly to inspect it.

“I know,” you said easily, gesturing toward the glass. “But I see you leaving in the mornings with your coffee cup. Think of it as adult coffee in a martini glass.”

He chuckled softly at that, his fingers brushing yours as he accepted the drink. “You’ve been paying attention.”

“Of course,” you said, your tone light but sincere. “Though, if this doesn’t suit your taste, I did pick up a whiskey I think you’ll like. It’s over by the bar.”

Hotch blinked, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You shrugged, your smile warm. “I wanted to. Besides, I hope this isn’t the last time we spend time together, so I’m sure we’ll enjoy that whiskey at some point—even if it’s not tonight.”

Something about the way you said it—the quiet confidence, the way you looked at him like he mattered—made his chest tighten.

“Well,” he said, lifting the glass slightly, “I suppose I can’t turn down a signature drink.”

“That’s the spirit,” you teased, nudging his arm lightly. “Try it. I promise it’s good.”

He brought the glass to his lips, taking a tentative sip. The rich, velvety flavor hit him immediately—the perfect balance of espresso, a hint of sweetness, and the warmth of vodka mingling with the coffee liqueur. He lowered the glass, nodding slightly as a small, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

“It’s…better than I expected,” he admitted.

“Better than expected?” you repeated, laughing softly. “I’ll take that as a win.”

He shook his head, amused. “It’s good. Really.”

“I knew you’d like it,” you said confidently, your eyes sparkling. “It’s got just enough sophistication to suit you.”

He chuckled again, a rare sound that felt more natural in your presence than it had in a long time. As you stood beside him, the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background.

For the first time in years, Aaron Hotchner felt like more than just a profiler, more than just a father or a leader. He felt seen. And, for once, he didn’t mind indulging in the moment.

As the evening wound down, the energy in the room shifted. Guests slowly trickled out, offering you hugs and handshakes on their way to the door. Each one left with a warm smile, a testament to your natural charm as a host. Hotch lingered, sipping the espresso martini you’d made him, more out of a desire to stay close than a need to finish the drink.

You returned from the door after bidding goodbye to the last pair of guests, finding him still standing near the bookshelf where the two of you had shared most of your conversation that night. His shoulders looked more relaxed now, the edges of his stoic demeanor softened in the warm glow of your apartment.

“Well,” you said with a soft laugh, glancing around at the aftermath of the party—empty glasses, plates, and the faint echo of laughter still hanging in the air. “That’s it. A successful cocktail party in the books.”

“You made it look effortless,” Hotch said, his voice warm. “But I know it’s anything but.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge as you started gathering a few glasses from the table.

He stepped forward, setting his now-empty glass down and reaching for a plate. “Let me help.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” you said, waving him off. “You’re a guest. Go relax.”

“Consider it repayment for the drink,” he countered, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, shaking your head but relenting as he began stacking dishes with practiced ease. The two of you moved through the space in comfortable silence, cleaning up the remnants of the night. Occasionally, your hands would brush as you both reached for something and each time, he felt a quiet thrill that he was certain he shouldn’t.

When the room was mostly back to its pristine state, you turned to him, holding a dish towel and looking a little sheepish. “You didn’t have to do all that, you know. But thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied, his tone soft but sincere. “I’m not much of a sit-back-and-relax type anyway.”

“I’ve noticed,” you said with a small smile, stepping closer to him.

The quiet that settled between you felt heavy in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable—just charged. Your gaze met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. He wasn’t sure what it was about you—the way you seemed to see right through him, the way you made him feel like he could finally let his guard down—but it made him want to say something, to do something, even if it was just a small step forward.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I wasn’t sure if I’d fit in, but…it was nice.”

“I’m glad you came,” you replied softly. “I was hoping you would.”

The sincerity in your voice struck him, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. It wasn’t much, just a fleeting touch, but it was enough to make his heart race.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, your gaze searching his face. “Aaron?”

“I…enjoy spending time with you,” he said, his tone careful but honest. “More than I expected to.”

Your lips curved into a small, almost shy smile, and you stepped just a fraction closer. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he said, his voice steady now.

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the soft light of your apartment casting gentle shadows across the room. He didn’t know what he expected to happen next, but when you placed a hand lightly on his arm, your touch warm and grounding, he felt the last of his reservations slip away.

“It’s late,” he said finally, his voice low. “I should probably head back.”

You nodded, your hand lingering on his arm for a moment longer. “Thank you for coming. And for everything tonight.”

He gave a small nod, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Aaron.”

As he walked back across the hall to his apartment, he felt a quiet sense of contentment settle over him. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a dramatic moment, but it was something—a step forward. And for now, that was enough.

In the day that followed, Hotch pulled his go-bag over his shoulder when he noticed something out of place under his apartment door. A small, cream-colored card peeked out from beneath the frame. He bent down, retrieving it with a curious furrow in his brow.

It was a card, handwritten in neat, elegant script.

Aaron,

Thank you for coming last night. It was wonderful having you there—it made the evening that much more special.

If you ever feel like sharing that whiskey, or even just enjoying each other’s company (with or without alcohol involved, haha), give me a call. I’d like that.

Hotch stood there for a moment, the weight of his bag forgotten. He read the note twice, his eyes lingering on the small smiley face you’d drawn next to your name. It was a simple gesture, but it left him feeling both surprised and oddly warm.

He slipped the card into the inside pocket of his jacket, shaking his head with the faintest smile. The timing couldn’t have been worse—he had a flight to catch and a case that demanded his full attention—but for the first time in a long time, he found himself wishing he didn’t have to leave.

Duty called, and as the jet soared through the sky, Hotch pulled the card from his pocket and ran his thumb over the textured surface. He wasn’t a man who took chances lightly, and his initial instinct was to keep the card tucked away to avoid what could become a complication in his carefully constructed life.

But then he thought of you—the way your smile had lit up the room last night, the effortless warmth in your voice, and the quiet confidence in the note you’d left. You weren’t pushing; you were simply opening a door, one he realized he wanted to step through.

He stared at the number on the card, debating. Finally, he reached for his phone, texting you something simple but deliberate.

Aaron: Thank you for the note. I’m currently out of state on a case, but when I’m back, I’d like to meet for coffee.

He stared at the message for a moment, wondering if it felt too casual or too formal. But then he thought of you—your easy smile, your genuine warmth—and decided that simplicity was best. He pressed send before he could overthink it.

For the rest of the flight, his mind kept circling back to the text. He wasn’t sure if you’d respond right away, or at all, but the act of reaching out was enough to stir something unfamiliar in him. A quiet kind of hope.

You: Coffee sounds perfect. Just let me know when you're back, and I’ll make sure my schedule is clear. Be safe out there, Aaron.

When he read your reply, a small smile tugged at his lips. He slid the phone back into his pocket, leaning back in his seat. The case ahead loomed large in his mind, but for the first time in a while, there was something waiting for him on the other side of it. And for now, that was enough.

The case continued far too long, but Hotch finally stepped off the BAU jet just as the first rays of morning light broke over the tarmac. The case had been grueling—long nights, dead ends, and the weight of too many lives disrupted. But they’d managed to close it, and now all he could think about was the coffee date waiting for him.

The team moved silently, exhaustion etched into their faces as they grabbed their bags and headed for the SUVs waiting nearby. Emily caught his eye as they walked toward the cars.

“Plans for the morning, Hotch?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Just coffee,” he replied simply, his tone giving nothing away.

Emily’s brow quirked, and a sly smile tugged at her lips. She knew it wasn’t like Hotch to not go settle back into the constraints of his desk, post-case. She had hoped he’d taken her advice when it came to you.

“Coffee, huh? Well, enjoy.”

Hotch gave her a faint smirk in response but said nothing more. He loaded his bag into the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat of his SUV, his mind already shifting to you.

He hadn’t told you the details of the case, of course, but he’d sent you a text two nights ago letting you know he’d be back this morning and suggesting the café.

He arrived at the café with minutes to spare, parking his SUV and grabbing a quick look in the rearview mirror. He looked tired—there was no denying that—but he decided against going home to change first. Something about coming straight here felt more honest, like he wasn’t trying to put on a front. Besides, he doubted you’d mind.

When he stepped inside the café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around him, chasing away some of the lingering fatigue. He chose a table near the back, where the noise of the bustling morning crowd was muted. As he sat down, he checked his phone, confirming the time.

You’d be here any minute.

For the first time in a long while, he found himself anticipating something outside of work. And as he waited, he allowed himself the smallest flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something he hadn’t dared to imagine for years.

The sun cast a warm glow over the café, soft light filtering through the wide windows. Hotch had chosen a quiet table near the back, away from the bustling chatter of patrons. He arrived a little early, a habit born of years of precision and punctuality, and ordered a simple black coffee while he waited.

His gaze drifted toward the door as he wondered what to say to you. He’d thought about this meeting—about you—more than he cared to admit during the case. And now, with the moment so close, he wasn’t sure how to navigate the emotions that came with it.

The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts, and there you were, stepping inside with an easy smile. You spotted him quickly and made your way over, looking effortlessly put together in a way that still felt warm and approachable.

“Hi,” you said, your smile widening as you reached the table.

“Hi,” Hotch replied, standing instinctively to greet you.

You set your bag down, glancing at his coffee. “Already ahead of me, I see. What’s your drink of choice?”

“Just black,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Classic,” you said approvingly. “Let me grab something, and I’ll be right back.”

As you stepped away to order, Hotch took a steadying breath. It was strange how easily you disarmed him with just your presence. When you returned with a latte, he stood again, waiting until you were seated before sitting himself.

“So,” you began, wrapping your hands around your cup. “How was the case?”

“Challenging,” he admitted. “But we managed to resolve it.”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “I imagine they’re all challenging in their own ways. I don’t know how you do it.”

He gave a small shrug. “It’s what I’m trained for. Though I’d be lying if I said it didn’t take its toll.”

“I can imagine,” you said softly. “It’s why I was surprised you even had the energy to come to my party last week.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “It was a good distraction. I’m glad I went.”

Your smile softened. “I’m glad you did too.”

For a moment, the two of you sipped your drinks in companionable silence. The warm atmosphere of the café seemed to cocoon you from the outside world, giving Hotch a rare sense of ease. But the weight of unspoken words pressed against him, and he knew he couldn’t leave without saying something.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said finally, his voice low but steady.

You looked up, your brows lifting slightly in surprise. “Oh?”

“More than I probably should,” he admitted, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I try not to let my personal life interfere with my work—or vice versa—but…you’ve been on my mind.”

Your lips parted slightly, and for a moment, you seemed at a loss for words. “Aaron…”

“I’m not saying this lightly,” he continued, his tone careful but sincere. “I don’t know where this is going or what it means, but I do know that I enjoy spending time with you. More than I expected to.”

A smile slowly spread across your face, warm and genuine. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

That admission caught him off guard, though he didn’t let it show. He felt a quiet relief, a sense of validation for the risk he’d taken in being honest.

“Well,” you said, leaning slightly forward, your tone playful yet soft. “I guess that makes two of us who aren’t sure where this is going. But I think I’d like to find out.”

Hotch’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. “So would I.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the conversation flowing easily as it always seemed to. For the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner allowed himself to consider the possibility of something more—and for once, he wasn’t afraid of what that might mean.

Tag List:

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@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #reader insert #aaron hotch hotchner #hotchner #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch #kiwriteswords #criminal minds imagine

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thanksbutno98 · 3 months ago

Text

Foxes

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price has to break out his military training to keep his property safe from foxes hunting his chickens; and maybe something else hunting his wife.

Warnings: Guns, allusions to stalking, stalking, PTSD, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of gun violence, hunting, animal deaths, sexual themes, swearing, not edited.

——————

Your music was blasting and feeling as good as you did you were belting out the words this warm summer day. It didn’t matter if you sounded good, you loved this song. And everyone in the neighborhood was going to know it. With the open windows and backdoor your sweet tunes were bound to be carried on the brisk summer breeze.

Dancing around your kitchen in your bare feet, athletic shorts and a baby blue t-shirt you continued to sing while you cooked lunch. A nice and easy air fried fish fingers, chips, and a summer salad was on the menu as requested by John. Taking the metal tongs for the air fryer you used them as a microphone and tried to moonwalk horribly. You were quite the sight to see. Making an absolute fool of yourself in the privacy of your home.

If John were inside instead of tending to the chickens he would be showing you how to actually moonwalk. He surprisingly was a great dancer and had a decent singing voice. Jj got John’s ability to sing, the young boy was quite talented musically.

“You’re so weird!” Jj, your son walked into the kitchen and then stared at you in horror. All he wanted to know was when lunch would be ready, not witness his mother dancing like a fool.

His judgmental stare didn’t stop you. It simply made you dance in his direction and wave him over to join you. At twelve years old you would think he would have a sense of humor; but alas you were no longer funny. With a look of disgust he backed away from you.

“C’mon sing, dance with me.” You tried to grab him to dance with you and he practically jumped away from you.

“Ew! Stop! You’re so embarrassing!” The way he purposefully deepened his voice only egged you on.

“C’mon Jj, don’t be a spoil sport.” Evelyn your ten year old daughter slid into the kitchen on her lime green socked feet.

She then immediately broke out into the running man. She too looked just as awkward as you but was having a good time. Waving your son off, a duet between you and your daughter broke out in the kitchen. You both sounded horrible singing at the tops of your lungs and having a dance battle.

That was until the sound of gunshots rang out.

All three of you screamed. You had both your children by the collars of their shirts and yanked them to the floor with you. Jj banged his knee against the tile while Evelyn dropped like a sack of potato’s. The fancy speaker your husband John Price had gotten you for your birthday continued on. That song you loved so much coming to an end and rolling into an equally good one.

Your mind played tricks on you for a split second. It felt like sweltering heat of the desert sun, dry air, and smelling of your vanilla perfume and burnt coffee. The memory of the day you were kidnapped at a dig sight almost paralyzed you but the need to protect your children out weighed the flashback.

“Get in the basement, don’t make a sound. Go into my office and lock the door. I’m going to get Lily, do not open that door for anyone but me or your father.” You ordered your children. Your words left no room for discussion.

Putting your children behind your back you walked them to the basement door trying to shield them from the large open glass double doors that lead to your back yard. Your eyes scanned the area trying to see if anyone was there. The shots were so close it was clear to you they came from the woods in the distance of your property.

“Molly mum.” Jj softly whispered to you.

Your motherly instincts were in full swing as you rushed your children down the basement stairs. You could see Evelyn was so terrified she was shaking and you expected that from any child. Only your son was calm and collected, taking his sister’s hand and doing exactly what you said.

Sprinting upstairs you found your daughter still asleep in her bed for her nap. Thankfully your dog Molly was asleep with her. You grabbed Lily and her blanket, then clasped Molly by the collar and ran back downstairs. Halfway down the stairs you heard another gunshot ring out. This one was significantly closer to your home, sounding as if it came from the tree line of the nearby forest in your back yard. It made the air around you still, becoming suffocating and silence sounding deafening.

Lily was disoriented and struggled for you to put her down but you didn’t. You cooed and soothed her to the best of your ability. After a long moment of silence you then ran for the basement door at the back of the house.

The basement consisted of two rooms that were separated by a foundational wall that bisected your home. The first room was John’s office and home gym. The office with his mahogany desk, book shelves, and Cheshire couch were to the left of the stairs. Past that toward the back of the house was where his weights and other workout machinery was.

At the bottom of the stairs and straight ahead was the door to your office. It was a beautiful juniper green that had become weathered over time. Your office was rectangular like John’s but had much more space since it encompassed the front portion of your home. You had rugs from your travels laid out, the old dining room set, old living room couch, your desk, book cases, and other supplies so you could work from home.

On your decent into the basement, Molly brushed by you causing your foot to slip off that one stair that had a knack for taking you down. Your ass collided hard with the old wooden stair and you slid down the latter half of the stairs on your back. You kept Lily secure to your chest and ignored the pain of having fallen down the stairs.

Back on your feet and breathing heavily you were at the juniper green door that lead into your office. Knocking quietly you heard a squeak and something shuffle.

“It’s me. Open up.” You whispered. The lock clicked and the door opened soon after.

Jj looked at you with an expression you were accustom to seeing on his father’s face. Stoic, calm, under complete control of his emotions. Which was stranger for a twelve year old but he was his father’s son. You handed Jj Lily and he had to wrap both arms around her so her legs were dangling while you corralled Molly into your office. Jj took his youngest sister and brought her to the corner of your office where Evelyn was sitting with a large blanket.

Your children huddled together as your violently shaking hands took a chair and angled it under the door knob. You were then quietly searching the utility closet for something to wield in case you needed a weapon. After searching frantically you found your old baseball bat and stared at it for a moment.

Your breathing began to pick up as you looked at the light wood of the bat with scratches and chips in the laminate coating. Chest heaving, head pounding, and sweaty hands, you began to nod at the blunt object. You were preparing yourself to have to use this if someone broke in. Because no matter how terrified you felt in this moment you had to protect your children.

“Darling!” Your husband’s gruff voice called from upstairs. It was such a relief to hear him that you didn’t pick up on his jovial tone.

“Thank god.” The words tumbled out.

Leaning against the cool stone wall, that suffocating feeling began to dissipate gradually because John was here to protect you; more importantly protect your children. You knew nothing would hurt you or your children as long as John was here. You were so confident of that, you would bet your life on it. John being in the house had to mean he dealt with the gun shots from whoever was crazy enough to go on a shooting spree.

You took a centering breath so John wouldn’t judge you for how frantic you were. It was important to you that he was confident in your ability to keep your children safe. He had set so many precautions and you followed this one flawlessly; besides grabbing a gun from his safe. But the biggest caveat was, you were to stay calm at all times so you could be clear headed; and that wasn’t part of your nature. Opening the door once you felt a little more steady, you called up to John.

“Is it safe to come out?” You asked, voice still shaky.

There was a beat of silence as the basement door opened allowing a stream of warm afternoon light to flow down the old rickety stairs.

“Safe?” John’s boots loudly thudded against the stairs as he came halfway down. Ducking his head so he could see the room clearly he had a quizzical look on his face as you emerged from your office.

“Yeah. Did you not hear all that? Some lunatic was shooting in the forest behind the house.” You were completely exasperated with John for not knowing what you were talking about.

He was out there for Christ sake. For someone who was in the military you thought gun shots would be pretty distinctive. Or maybe he was so use to them he hardly noticed.

John stared at you blankly.

“Uh, that was me. Finally killed those damn foxes going after the chickens.” The words were raspy and unsure.

John hadn’t taken into consideration your reaction to hearing gunshots. He was much more concerned on keeping the chickens safe.

Another beat of silence.

“What is WRONG with you!?” You yelled so loud you made Lily shriek behind you.

“What? They killed another chicken this morning, making it three total.” John looked utterly perplexed by your outburst. You told him to keep the chickens safe, and now that he was you were mad at him.

“Go on you three. Everything’s fine. Your dad was the one shooting a GUN that close to the house.” Jj was snickering at his dad getting scolded by you. Meanwhile your girls were shaken up.

“Wicked dad. Can I come next time?” Jj was the first to emerge, all sparkly eyed and looking to his father.

“Of course you can. Not sure if your mum will string me up by the ankles for it.” The snarky comment had you doubling down.

“I told you to keep the chickens safe, not start killing wild animals trying to survive!” You half shrieked being unbelievably upset with John’s lack of gun safety with children around. John didn’t seem to take much notice to your outburst and went back upstairs with Jj.

“I think dad and Jj have gone mad.” Evelyn whispered to you and you agreed.

Lily was tugging on your shirt so you would picked her back up so you did. You crouched down and hugged your girls. It seemed like you three were the only ones reacting like human beings to this. After a good hug and some calming breaths you made sure they were both okay and headed upstairs. Once upstairs John tried to give you a kiss which you dodged. You went back to the kitchen and checked on lunch.

“Darling, I know you grew up in the city but huntings normal around here.” John chuckled at you.

He loved when you got like this; pouty and ready to give him a hard time. Seeing you all riled up over something he deemed as innocuous tickled him. You found John condescending in moments like this because he found you so utterly endearing that it dismissed your frustration with him.

“You’re a lunatic.” You said matter of factly.

“Not my fault you Americans have such shite gun laws you panic at the sound.” You did not appreciate John’s dig.

He was completely right though. If you weren’t from the States you wondered if you would have freaked out so intensely. To you, guns going off meant hide for cover because someone was trying to make the news.

“Put the gun away.” You ordered your husband who was still chuckling at you. He walked over to take his plate for lunch but you snatched it and took it away from him.

“Away. Now.” You demanded. Holding his food hostage seemed to do the trick because after an incredulous eye roll John went downstairs to put his gun in the safe.

“Where are the foxes?” Jj asked you as he took his plate off the counter.

“How would I know.” You gave Jj a flat look which made him grin.

Now he was teasing you and you did not appreciate his father’s influence on him. John was grinning as he came up the stairs, having heard Jj giving you a hard time. After ruffling the boys hair John spoke.

“On the patio.” John motioned to four dead foxes getting blood all over the stone.

“Ew.” Lily wiggled to be put down and ran to the open back door.

She stared at the foxes quietly. One of her hands was playing with her left pigtail while the other reached out aimlessly for anyone’s hand to hold. You were expecting a much larger reaction from her. Lily was soft and sweet, dead animals normally upset her. She cried for an hour once when there was a dead pigeon at the park. Yet seeing dead foxes didn’t seem to bother her.

“Which chicken did they get?” Evelyn asked now standing next to Lily and taking her hand, the two of them staring at the dead foxes.

“Why are none of you reacting to dead animals!? Am I in the twilight zone!?” Throwing your hands in the air you felt crazy.

Even Evelyn had no reaction. You were expecting her to go start poking them with a stick or asking a million questions. But none of your children were upset, they treated this like an ordinary thing. As if you told them about the weather and you couldn’t figure out why for the life of you.

“Pepper.” John’s response made Lily shriek at the top of her lungs. It had everyone but John jumping.

“NOT PEPPER!” Falling to her knees Lily started to hysterically cry while also screaming dramatically.

It looked as if she were melting into a puddle with her fingers laced in her hair and sapphire eyes streaming with tears. It was quite the performance, she was putting Leonardo DiCaprio to shame with this meltdown.

Pepper was Lily’s favorite chicken, so this was going to be tough. The reaction you expected for the dead foxes came in full swing at the news you all lost Pepper. Lily was shrill and inconsolable as Evelyn kneeled on the floor with her little sister and hugged her.

“You can handle all that.” You took your hand and motioned to Lily’s utter histrionics as your doorbell rang.

You had a sinking feeling one of your neighbors were here to ask what the hell was wrong with your husband. But when you opened the door it was so much worse.

“Hello ma’am. I’m Officer Parker.” The police officer at your front door seemed unamused to be here.

He was tall like John, but not as handsome. It was definitely a ‘type’ kind of thing because the man was still good looking. Officer Parker had dark silver hair and five o’clock shadow. Despite his hair color he couldn’t be older than John, he even looked a few years younger. The sharp jawline, thick eyebrows, and peachy skin paired well together. His hazel eyes were stern and serious like a man of the militaries would be; not what you assumed a police officer was like. He was slender with an athletic physique with muscles not as large as Johns but they were still prevalent in his uniform.

“Hi, Y/N Price.” You felt like you looked guilty and you did.

Lily’s screams echoed down the hallway making the officer look over your head trying to asses if everything was okay. Gun shots and a screaming child wasn’t a good look for your family.

“Gotten some reports of gun shots. Been told the man who lives here is military and wanted to make sure everything’s all right.” The officer sounded like he was already accusing you of something.

But then his hazel eyes softened for a second seeing you go from nervous to defeated. That’s when he noticed you were quite beautiful. There was a sweetness that naturally exuded off of you and those eyes of yours were almost as bright as the summer sun.

“John! Police are here for you.” You half yelled for your husband to come deal with this.

Hearing you call for a man had the officer feeling somewhat deflated. He knew a man in the military lived here but was hoping he was of no relation to you. There was a small hope you were a guest of this home, not the mother of that screaming child and wife to the oaf shooting a gun for god knows why.

As you turned and waited for the man you called, Officer Parker took in your appearance. You were dressed in cute little black athletic shorts that ended just after the plump roundness of your bum. Your baby blue t-shirt was loose everywhere but your chest, fitting nicely over the curve of your breasts. With your hair tied back he could see the slender curve of your neck and that even from behind you were utterly gorgeous.

John appeared walking down the hallway towards the front door. Officer Parker wanted to roll his eyes at the sight of Captain Price. Of course this man had to be big, bold, and British. He looked like the type of rugged man that would have a woman like you swooning over him.

“She’s gonna need to cry it out.” John nodded his head towards Lily who could now be seen at the end of the hallway next to the kitchen, lying on her back. She was crying up at the ceiling with her small hands over her face.

“Pepper.” The guttural cries continued to echo down the hall as Lily called for her deceased chicken.

“She okay?” Officer Parker asked you.

“Yeah. Her favorite chicken got eaten by some foxes and she taking the news pretty hard.” Scratching the back of your head you gave the officer an apologetic smile.

God, he found you beautiful. Few words were exchanged but you were endearing and kind; that was obvious. There was something about you that was magnetic and had him enamored although no one could tell.

“How can we help you?” John was picking up on a strange vibe but wasn’t sure what it was. The officer at his door was as stoic as himself and John wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hello sir. Reports of gunshots, know anything about it?” Without missing a beat officer Parker was back to the task at hand.

“Shot a couple foxes that were killing my chickens.” John spoke matter of factly, not knowing why that warranted police to show up.

“DADDY!!! PEPPER!!” Lily screamed in John’s direction but John ignored her. You couldn’t get yourself to respond either. Lily needed to work this one out since you and John were busy.

“Do you have a license.” The officer lightly chuckled at the little girl having an absolute meltdown over a chicken.

“Here.” Reaching into his back pocket John grabbed his wallet and handed over his hunting license.

Looking it over carefully, Officer Parker then leaned to the side to look between you and John. Down the hall he now saw two older children trying to console their hysterical little sister. The older little girl grabbed her smaller sister’s ankles while the boy grabbed her arms. They picked her up like a rag doll and carried her out of sight.

“No more shooting. Got it?” Keeping his eyes cast down the hall Officer Parker then saw the pile of dead foxes on your patio. Now with the story corroborated he handed John his hunting license back.

“Why!?” John’s strong reaction made your jaw drop.

What did he mean ‘why’?

“It’s a residential area. There are families and children around. Don’t do it again.” Officer Parker spoke evenly but you could tell he didn’t see why he even had to explain this.

“So the next time foxes are killing my chickens I just let them?” John was indignant and heating up to argue with the officer.

“Build a taller fence.” The response was short and to the point.

It was a fair response that had you nodding in agreeance. John didn’t respond but shut the door in the officers face. The abrupt reaction made you gasp.

“That was rude.” You were shocked at John’s curt behavior. John ignored you and locked the door. The look on his face was mean with his eyebrows knit together and lips fixed in a tight line.

“You know, for someone who’s a Captain in the military you’ve got a real problem with authority.” Challenging your husband didn’t seem to affect him as he moved to go check on the crying that was now off in the distance for some reason.

“I should be able to shoot on my own damn property.” John threw the comment over his shoulder.

“You have to know how ridiculous you sound.” You laughed in disbelief.

Opening the front door back up you saw the officer heading back to his car.

“Sorry about him! It won’t happen again!” You called to the man and waved goodbye.

That seemed to tickle Officer Parker because he smiled and laughed. The seriousness from before seemed to fade in your presence. He looked handsome with a smile and not so stern. There was a charming nature about him, one that was disarming and alluring.

“Keep him in line. I’d hate to come out here again.” The joke felt a bit flirtatious but you ignored that and waved goodbye.

You weren’t sure he’d hate having to stop by again from the way he spoke. A little flirting was a good ego boost especially in a harmless moment like this. It’s not like you’d ever see the man again.

Turning back, John had his eyes cut at you. You thought he would’ve been in the kitchen at this point but he clearly was suspicious of you.

“And you have an inclination for men of authority.” There was an accusation in those words that you decided to ignore.

“I do. But apparently I like gun wielding lunatics.” The cheeky comment got you a firm smack to the ass that made you yelp in surprise.

“As you should.” John’s flirtation was a lot more successful than the officers. It left you giving him a kiss and then ordering him to build a taller fence.

“Build a taller fence and please don’t do that again. Our neighbors probably hate us.” As you spoke John nudged you with his shoulder which had you instantly wrapping yourself around his muscular arm.

“Darling, I have a gun. They’re too scared to hate us.” The joke had you rolling your eyes. John chucked and kissed the top of your head sweetly.

Walking into your kitchen you saw your two oldest children sitting at the kitchen table eating their lunch. They were chatting about who would take the dead foxes, Ghost or Soap. You could faintly hear Lily crying but she was no where in sight.

“Where’s your sister?” John asked, he didn’t seem too worried as he started eating his own lunch while he brought it to the table.

“Laundry room.” Evelyn pointed at the shut laundry room door at the corner of the kitchen next to the pantry.

“What!?” You dashed for the laundry room to find your four year old lying in a basket of clean towels, hugging one to her chest and lightly sobbing while she whispered Pepper’s name.

“We couldn’t enjoy our lunch with her screaming like that.”

——————

“Hello, Mrs. Price.” The same officer as last time was at your door again.

He had a charming smile, seemingly amused to see you. The summer day was a lot hotter than the last. This left you trying anything to beat the heat. You had just slipped your two piece bathing suit on under your crop top and bicycle shorts. A dip in the pond would be nice and you promised Lily she could swim with you.

“I’m so sorry.” You sighed heavily already knowing why he was here.

“Where is he?” The officer also seemed annoyed by John but not by you.

It was a surprise to Officer Parker to be back at your house not even two days later. Normally he’d hate having to have a repeat visit, but not with you. The fact you seemed so displeased with your husband would hopefully bode well for him; because he wanted to make a pass before he left here today. He wanted to see if the stereotype of military wives being lonely and unsatisfied was true.

“I don’t think he’ll be coming to the door.” You spoke meekly.

John made it crystal clear last night that those foxes killing the chickens had it coming. You bent his ear about gun safety but it clearly didn’t get through to him. He ended up shutting you up with some groveling on his knees and mouth between your thighs.

“Well I need to speak to him.” By the way the officer spoke you could tell he would rather not, but unfortunately he had to do his job.

“He’s around back.” You stepped out onto the porch and motioned with your hand.

You did not want to deal with this. John got himself into this mess and he could deal with it on his own.

“A woman like you’s okay with him shooting while you have young children around?” The officer seemed to be trying to get you on his side.

You agreed with him but there was a twinkle in his eye you caught on to. He fancied you, and you could tell. Although you had no interest and were clearly married that didn’t stop the subtle flirting.

You were flattered but weren’t going to give him anymore attention than necessary. It was funny to you because he reminded you of Soap, in that charming lovable kind of way. And like Soap, Officer Parker seemed capable of getting laid by any other woman who wasn’t you.

“No, but they think it’s cool. We’ve got one chicken left standing and they want their dad to protect Nancy at all cost.” You shrugged not sure what else to say. You’d lost this battle with John as soon as the children took his side.

“Nancy?” He asked with a snort.

“My middle named her.” You smiled softly.

“And the others?” The officer was intrigued what other names your chickens had.

“Well they’re all dead now. But it was Pepper, Match Box, Dinner, and Pancake.” Leaning against the front door frame you gave into having a chat instead of doing some proofreading for work.

“Dinner?” The officer let out a loud laugh. He was hoping you were the one to come up with that name. It would mean you were funny and gorgeous.

“Yeah, that was my husband.” You snickered.

Officer Parker’s laughter died down, no longer finding the name funny.

“Speaking of, going to give him a last warning.” Taking a step back Officer Parker was about to head around your house to scold your husband.

“Good luck with that.” You meant it, John had his heels dug in on this one.

“Think he’ll listen.” With a smirk the officer asked you. The look slowly slid off his face at your lack of response.

You stared at him, mulling over his question. The officer watched your eyes glaze over for a moment as if you were lost in a memory. You stayed like that, spaced out, until he cleared his throat and you seemingly snapped back into reality.

“What was the question?” You asked.

You had been searching your brain for a time John listened to someone willingly, who wasn’t you. John didn’t like being told what to do unless he agreed with what it was. Still he could be obstinate if rubbed the wrong way but usually came around when it was you asking. And even then he tended to do what he thought best and ignored you when he wanted to. John didn’t take well to rules or orders which was surprising that he wound up in the military.

“Never mind. Fine if I go around back.” Pointing toward your yard Officer Parker began to jog down the front stairs.

“Yeah, go ahead.” With a heavy sigh you went to shut your front door.

“Oh, and ma’am I completely forgot to mention. I saw a young man in his mid twenties rummaging through your mail box. He said he was family.” Officer Parker walked back to the bottom of your staircase as he told you.

“What’d he look like? Got a Mohawk?” You were taken aback and stepped back out on your front porch.

“No, Mohawk. Black hair, nondescript, buggy looking eyes. He seemed a bit off, barely blinked- which was odd.” He told you casually. It was assumed you would know exactly who he was talking about.

“No. Doesn’t sound like any family of mine. My husband’s the better person to ask.” Finding this out had your forehead creasing from stress.

The last thing you needed was some creep sniffing around your children. John would go ballistic and definitely threaten someone with his gun if not blow their brains out.

“Said his last name was- ah bloody hell I can’t remember. It just wasn’t Price.” Running his finger through his hair Officer Parker tried to remember the last name he was given.

“Was it Y/L/N?” You asked.

“Yes, it was.” With a snap of his fingers Parker pointed to you.

“Fuck, that’s my maiden name. I don’t get any mail with that name anymore so I don’t know how anyone would know that.” This was officially creeping you out. No one here knew your maiden name besides the people at work.

“Strange. Keep an eye out. I will too.” The fact officer Parker didn’t seem too worried didn’t help you.

If anything you would want the police worried about a strange man going through people’s mailboxes in a neighborhood with a lot of children. Especially since your maiden name was used, it meant this person was looking for you or your children. Nothing like this had ever happened around here before. So you made a mental note to text a few of your neighbors to give them a heads up. You just hoped they didn’t call you out for the gun shots.

“Thank you.” You tried to sound calm although you felt a tightness in your chest.

“Of course, ma’am.” Giving you a cordial smile Parker went to go confront your husband.

The walk to the far right corner of your property was much farther than Officer Parker realized. Your property was huge now that he had a better look. Your red farm house sat atop a hill far from the street. To the right was your driveway and a sloping hill your kids would sled down in the winter. Once at the back of your house there were acres of land including a pond and forest.

The forest ran from the front of your property and surrounded it on all sides. The land behind your house was about the size of three soccer fields until it reached the pond that was to the far left and down a slight slope. There was even land around the pond but it was surrounded by tall grass in those areas showing how your family and children tended to not go over there.

In the far right corner near the edge of the woods was the chicken coop surrounded by a low estate styled fence. It was no wonder the chickens were being picked off by foxes with the coop being that close to the forest. Once over there Officer Parker got a better view of John Price and his three children around the coop. There was an old beat up truck a few yards away with the bed opened and a bunch of empty crates. A man with a Mohawk was taking the dead fox and tossing them into the bed and closing things up.

“Captain Price, there’s been another complaint about guns going off.” Officer Parker called from a distance away as he approached.

John looked up from the center of the fenced in area around the coop where he had just placed a white chicken down. John was dressed in dirty jeans that had a layer of dust and dirt on them. His white long sleeve matched the dirt of his jeans along with his brown work gloves. There was a faded beige boonie hat that sat atop his head that Officer Parker thought looked ridiculous.

“Why are you on my property?” John half demanded to know. He knew why but was not about to admit to it.

John’s two little girls stared intently at the police officer. Meanwhile Jj was spreading feed for the new chickens not paying him any mind. This was the first good look Officer Parker was getting at your children. The boy was a spitting image of his father while your middle was your mini me. The youngest who was pretending like he didn’t exist was a good mix of you and your husband. She looked like John in the eyes and nose but had your lips, hair type, and shorter stature. She also seemed more like you than either of her siblings, there was a natural sweetness to her. Whereas the two older seemed a lot like their father purely based off the way they sized Officer Parker up a he got closer. This only proved the Officer knew very little about you. Your kids could be spitfires, clever, and cheeky which they had inherited from you.

“OoOoooO, you’re in trouble.” Evelyn teased her father.

“I wanna name that one Salt!” Lily was pointing at the all white hen John had bought to replace her favorite one who died; Pepper. Her hand was stuck through a hole in the chicken wire and she quickly pulled it back when one of the chickens tried to peck her.

“No, Nancy! You have to behave.” Lily scolded the tawny brown chicken who then stared her down.

“Daddy. Nancy’s looking at me funny.” Lily whined which made her father chuckle.

“Don’t mess with her Lily. She’ll take your fingers off if given the chance.” The teasing tone put a frown on the little girl face. Soon enough she was hiding behind her big sister who was beaming like the sun.

“She’s my favorite.” Evelyn pointed to Nancy as she spoke to Officer Parker.

“The mean one’s your favorite?” Soap asked with a boisterous laugh. Evelyn shook her head proudly.

“Of course she is Suds!” Evelyn giggled while she bounced up and down.

“Well, I’m gonna head out. You three better get in to as much trouble as you can while I’m gone.” Soap pointed at the Price children who all gave him giant smiles.

“Tell Leena we say hello. Oh, and stop sleeping with Y/N friends, I think she’s getting ready to murder you.” John chuckled as he tried to convince Soap of something you had been on his case about.

With a laugh Soap waved Price off and got into his truck. The Price children yelled their goodbyes and Soap honked a few times as he drove off. Lily started to tear up at Soaps departure since he was one of her favorite people.

“Why are you here?” John asked the officer again but his focus was on the sniffling four year old. John walked over and whispered something to her that seemed to cheer her up.

“Your wife told me you were back here.” Officer Parker spoke to John but had his attention stolen as Lily ran to the back pack Soap left behind and fished through it.

“Traitor.” John mumbled under his breath. A second later Lily was running back with candy bars. She stopped and meekly offered a Milky bar to the police officer. That one was her least favorite but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Please don’t be cross with my daddy.” She whispered so quietly it was barely audible and then ran off back to her big sister. They tore into the different candy bars while Officer Parker slid the sweet into his back pocket for later.

“Have you seen anyone lurking around your property, Captain Price?” The question had John perking up.

“No.” John didn’t break eye contact.

There was no way someone would be lurking around John’s property without him knowing. Normally it would never happen but it was especially true now with how vigilant John had been due to the foxes.

“Any of you see anyone you don’t know? Or even a neighbor who doesn’t usually stop by hanging around?” Looking at the young children’s faces they were clearly searching their memories for anything like that.

“When I took Molly for a walk this morning I saw Mr. Patterson at the mailbox. Mum said he wrote us a nasty note yesterday so I thought he was leaving another and avoided him like you told me to.” Jj looked at John and recounted this to the officer.

John was shocked by that. He didn’t know about any nasty note or that Jj had seen their neighbor at the house. Mr. Patterson was not a fan of your family, in fact John would go as far as to say the man hated you all. He was an older man whose nephew lived with him and took care of him and his property.

You told John that the nephew gave you the creeps. It was to the point you and John advised your children to steer clear of him. That they were never to stop and chat or go near that house. Nothing had truly ever happened but even John saw what you were talking about. The young man was odd and John didn’t like the way he stared at Evelyn one time when John and her went for a walk around the neighborhood.

“I told your wife but a young man in his mid to early twenties who was going through your mailbox. Claimed to be related to your wife.” Officer Parker reiterated.

“Dark hair, looks like he could be anybody, and crazy fucking eyes?” John asked. He used his pointer and middle finger to aggressively gesture to his own eyes.

“I see you know exactly who I’m talking about.” The men shared a knowing look as if to say they agreed that this man had to be trouble.

“Patterson’s nephew. You probably want to keep an eye on him.” John told him. Officer Parker nodded in understating.

“I saw him too.” Lily spoke quietly.

That was a lot more alarming to John than Jj seeing anything. Lily was four and you two hardly let her out of your sight. How on earth did she see the nephew and John and you hadn’t?

“Where?” John asked trying not to sound forceful so Lily wouldn’t clam up.

“The shop! Mummy was talking to Siobhan’s mummy about uncle Soap never calling her back. I think they had a sleepover or something. Siobhan’s mummy was really sad about it. I think she-“ John cut Lily’s tangent off.

“What did Patterson’s nephew do?” It was hard not to laugh at all the unnecessary details Lily offered up.

“He waved at me.” Lily recounted the memory at the shop from a few days ago.

“What did you do?” John had to push down the anger building up knowing, that creep had waved to his daughter.

“Cried.” Lily spoke matter of factly as she took another bite of her sweet.

That checked out. John remembered you saying Lily had a meltdown at the shop because someone looked at her funny. It must’ve been the neighbor.

“Dad can we name that one Patrick.” Evelyn interrupted and pointed to a brown hen while snacking on a chocolate bar.

“Hens are girls.” The officer informed her.

“So?” She cocked her head to the side confused.

“Hey!” Lily whined when John took a sneaky bite of her candy.

“Salt and Patrick it is. That one will be Butter.” John spoke with his mouth full and pointed to a honey colored hen. He thought it best to move on so his children wouldn’t get spooked. You and him could talk about this later.

“Butter?” The officer looked at John wondering where that name came from.

“Butter chicken.” Jj started laughing until he was bent over and trying to catch his breath.

“Jj you get to name the last one.” Nodding his head toward the last white hen John waited for Jj’s name for it.

“Mum wanted to name hers Pudding.” With a smile Jj offered some feed in his hand to Pudding.

“Okay, we have Salt, Patrick, Butter, and Pudding.” John pointed in order of chickens and their names.

It was comical watching how your family behaved. As serious and unfriendly as John was he was very accommodating and sweet to his children. It was night and day how he treated Officer Parker versus you and your children. It was a horrible example on how to treat police but John wasn’t the biggest fan anyway.

“Gonna have to ask you to stop with shooting foxes.” Finally getting to the point Officer Parker was stern in the way he spoke.

“Okay.” Waving the man off John grabbed Jj and placed him on the other side of the fence by his sisters.

“What!? Do you want our chickens dead?” Evelyn turned to the officer in shock. She went from looking sweet to ready to murder.

“Noooo daddy has to protect Salt!” Lily shrieked.

“Gimmie the sweet back!” Lily demanded with her hand outstretched, as if this punishment would change the man’s mind.

“I don’t want to come out here again.” Officer Parker warned John while handing the candy bar back.

“We can agree on that.” John’s snarkiness was hard to not push back against.

“No shooting.” Pointing his finger at John, Officer Parker ordered him.

“I shot this one.” Jj smiled cheerily thinking that would get the officer off his father’s back.

“Say that again.” Turning slowly the officer looked mortified.

In no universe did he expect that as a response. What on earth would posses a parent to put a gun in their child’s hands. No wonder you were so fed up with your husband; he had to be crazy.

“Lads just taking the piss. I wouldn’t be irresponsible enough to put a gun in the hands of a child.” John reassured the man as he lied.

Jj took that fox out in two shots, the first one missing completely and the second being right on target. John made Jj swear to secrecy to never tell you or they’d end up like those foxes when you found out.

There was a long pause. The officer couldn’t quite tell if this was sarcasm or honesty. John was unreadable.

“Alright. This will go a lot differently if I have to come out here again.” Another warning fell on deaf ears.

“Do you want some eggs? We can give you as many as you want if you let our dad take care of those nasty foxes. If you don’t there will be no eggs to give you Mister Police man.” Evelyn spoke oh so sweetly.

“Are you bribing a police officer?” The question was forceful and Evelyn immediately felt like she was in trouble. So she hummed and pretend to not hear him and went back to eating her chocolate bar.

“My kids have a cheeky sense of humor.” John chortled, trying to deflect. He found them hilarious but knew their humor wouldn’t be appreciated right now.

“Your wife seems to be the only sensible one out of you lot. No shooting, no bribing, and for the love of god don’t make me come back here.” Officer Parker got louder as he spoke until he was almost shouting.

“Okay.” John gave the man a contemptuous nod.

“Bloody ridiculous.” The officer mumbled as he walked away.

On his way to leave the officer saw you on your back patio. You were hosing something off. The distance allowed him to admire you for a few moments longer. You were barefoot in black bicycle shorts today with a cropped white t-shirt with the AC/DC logo on the front. It showed off just above your bellybutton and part of your ribs. He was noticing that you had tattoos which he seemed to miss the last time he saw you. That fact had you going from gorgeous to sexy in a flash.

“Howd it go?” You asked as the officer passed by the patio

“Your children take after him? One claimed to have shot that fox and the other tried to bribe me.” The frustrating encounter was shared in a lighthearted way.

“Made it out lucky. Usually the little one takes a bite out of people.” It felt good to hear someone speak fondly of your children. They had the unfortunate effect of rubbing people the wrong way a lot of the time.

“You’ve got quiet the family.” The brightness coming off of him was more from having a conversation with you. His words did not match the sentiment of how he felt towards your family; which was detached.

“They keep it interesting.” Speaking sweetly, you took his words at face value. Thinking that he admired your children and you could tell in turn he admired you.

Officer Parker, who had been thinking of you often now had the chance he’d been craving. With a charming smirk and running his fingers through his thick hair he geared up to attempt to sweet talk you. He knew he was handsome and charming so he planned on using those to his advantage. You were far from the first married woman he had seduced.

“I dont mean to overstep. I can see how unpleasant your husband is, if you ever want a little less stress in your life I’d love to take y-“ You waved your hand assertively for the officer to stop.

“Don’t. I’m happily married.” You instantly knew where this was going and nipped it in the bud. You couldn’t help the sour expression that took over.

There was no way you were crossing that line and if John found out, he would kill him. You were instantly upset. You thought you had made a friend, but unfortunately, this police officer was making a pass at you. The unfortunate fact was, men tended to disappoint you in this way, instead of looking for friendship they looked for a shag.

“Of course. My apologies.” Officer Parker felt himself flush with embarrassment. Leaving quickly was the best plan of action. So he nodded and went on his way.

“Lucky bastard. John would’ve hunted his ass down if he heard that.” Shaking your head you made your way over to the chicken coop. You were contemplating on whether you told your husband or not. You decided against it, John already hated the man enough.

——————

“Mrs. Price I can’t believe I’m here again.”

“I swear he wasn’t shooting this time.” You gave the same officer a meek smile.

You were absolutely fed up with this situation. You hadn’t heard any gun shots so now you were starting to think one of your neighbors was out to get you. Or that this officer couldn’t take the hint that you weren’t interested.

With the look Officer Parker was giving you, you thought it was the latter. You were in a floral blue sundress since it was just you and John home today. The waist was cinched, accenting your curves while the skirt was loose and flowed down to mid thigh. It was your subtle attempt of getting John all over you with these thin straps and low cut neckline. You weren’t expecting any interruption but this didn’t count since John hadn’t caught sight of you yet.

The officer seemed to notice your outfit and how your hair was tied back neatly to show off your neck and shoulders. It was also to keep your hair out of your face in case John had you on your knees. You felt gross at the officers flickering eyes down to your exposed legs and then cleavage.

Crossing your arms over your chest and letting out an annoyed huff the officer seemed to snap out of it. He was embarrassed to have been caught staring especially after being rejected the last time he was here. His ogling was fast and if you hadn’t been standing face to face you doubt you would have noticed. He was still kicking himself for even asking you out and how unprofessional he acted. After the last time he was here and the pass he made at you, you no longer liked him and he could tell. So he decided to stop treating you special and went back to acting like he normally did toward any civilian.

“I don’t believe you. Your family is becoming a real pain in my ass.” The coarse remark had your hackles raising. It was a large shift from his wandering eyes admiring you to then insulting you and your family.

“Fine.” You spoke with evenness yet there was an undertone of frustration.

You weren’t some soft docile house wife this man clearly thought you were. So you shut the door in the officers face. You didn’t need him being so rude to you when you had been nothing but accommodating. It wasn’t your fault your husband wouldn’t listen. If you could have things your way you’d kick this guy off your property and then drag John upstairs because you’d much rather have his gorgeous blues on you.

The doorbell rang several times before you opened it again. Swinging the door open you greeted him with a cheery smile as if this was the first time he’d ever knocked on your door. Officer Parker held on to that indignant look then rolled his eyes as you played pretend nice.

“Hi. Wanna try that again?” You felt like a brat right now, speaking oh so sweetly, but you were honestly sick of this guy showing up and your husband wielding a gun.

“I’m going to have to bring him in.” The officer told you which made you snort.

“Good luck with that.” You joked then went to shut the door again. His large hand smacked against the thick wood stoping you from ending the conversation.

“Ma’am, are you eluding to the fact your husband is going to resist arrest?” Peering at you through his eyebrows he asked seriously.

This guy was a piece of work and you wanted to give him as hard of a time as you felt he was giving you.

“Ever heard of a joke?” With a monotone tone you volleyed back his retort.

Silence took over as you both held eye contact. Officer Parker didn’t know what to say without getting a smart ass remark from you and you were prepared to be a little shit. If he thought John was difficult he had no idea who he was dealing with now.

“This family seems to be full of them. Now where is he?” The officer demanded.

He wasn’t wrong there. Your family were a bunch of smart asses who didn’t shy away from giving people a hard time. It wasn’t just John who resisted authority, it was you too. Thinking anyone could boss you around or show up at your door demanding things was comical. Once upon a time you would’ve teamed up with this guy to get your husband to stop with the guns. But now? Absolutely not, you’d cover for John in every possible way purely because you didn’t like this guy.

“Go on. He’s around back.” You motioned with your hand.

Making a point to wave your hand to put the large rock on your ring finger in this man’s face. Officer Parker grunted in reply, catching on to your dismissal of his advances. He stomped down your stairs and went to make his way to the back of your home.

“Oh, and again. . .” You waited for the officer to turn around and look at you from the bottom of the stairs of your front porch.

“He wasn’t shooting this time. The man would be signing divorce papers if that were the case. And he’s not that stubborn.” Before you could hear a response you shut the front door and then ran like hell to the back patio.

John was standing at the picnic table dressed in dirty old jeans, an army green t-shirt with a half burnt cigar tucked between his teeth. He had thrown a burlap tarp over the table and laid out a bunch of tools used to fix his cherry red convertible. Jumping down the two steps to the patio you ran straight into John. It was like colliding with a brick wall the way he didn’t budge and was made of stone. He chuckled deeply at your urgency, his chest rumbling at how endearing he found you.

“John give me that- that cops here and said he was going to arrest you.” You immediately started groping your husband trying to find the gun on his waist.

Going as far as shoving your hand down the back of his jeans to check for a gun. John jumped at your wandering hand in his trousers and had to grab you by the wrists to get you to stop grabbing at him.

“Victoria backfired, love. I didn’t shoot anything.” John started belly laughing. His deep voice sounded lower as he spoke with the cigar still tightly between his teeth.

“oh.” You visibly relaxed.

“Plus, I’ve learned to use a silencer now and you haven’t caught on so theres no way that prick has either.” Letting you go John went back to searching through his tools that were neatly laid out.

He paused, it looked like a lightbulb buzzed to life above his head, something had just occurred to him. Looking back at you with a pensive expression, you expected John to tell you something important; but he didn’t. John’s large hand came over to you and tugged at the neckline of your dress and pulled it toward him so he could peak down at your breasts.

“John!” Your jaw dropped and again your husband’s burly chest rumbled with laughter.

“No bra? Trying to tell me something, darling?” That charming smirk had you sputtering like an idiot; he was right on the money.

This outfit was indeed a statement. You still had trouble handling how hot John was when he flirted with you like this. That cocky confidence could get whatever he wanted out of you.

“Captain Price, I told you I didn’t want to be back h- holy shit is that an Aston Martin?” The officer stopped in the middle of your driveway realizing the car that sat at the end with the hood popped was in fact a 1965 Aston Martin. John removed his hand from your dress and left you with a firm squeeze to your left breast. The officer was too distracted to notice.

“No.” John lied as he grabbed some tool you would never be able to identify. All you could tell was it was metal, shiny, and round on the end.

“Piss off, that is-“

“Why are you on my property? To gawk at my car and chat up my wife? Or maybe gawk at my wife and chat ‘bout my car.” Taking a long drag from his cigar John stared down the officer.

That seemed to instantly piss the officer off. You didn’t have to tell John that you had caught this man’s eye. John noticed it from the very start. So now it was John’s opportunity to flex and show off just how lucky of a man he was.

“I’ll have to take you in for shooting a gun in a residential area. I tried to warn you-“

John had walked over to his car and turned the key in the ignition. A loud bang echoed through the open air that sounded like a gun shot. It was now occurring to the officer that the call that came about a single gun shot was in fact this car back firing.

All Officer Parker could think was how this prick John Price was a lucky bastard.

“Fixing my car. That a crime?” John was enjoying himself way too much.

Smoking his cigar with his signature hat and looking smug suited him. Sexy didn’t begin to describe how attractive you found your husband in this moment. That smudge of grease on his neck only added to the rugged man he was. Bulging biceps, chiseled frame, tanned skin from working in the yard; you wanted to mount that smug smirk.

“Are you armed right now?” Officer Parker stepped on to your patio his eyes wandering to the cherry red convertible for a moment.

With a quirked eyebrow John looked at you and then to the officer.

“You can frisk me if ya’d like.” Throwing his arms out John motioned for the officer to come over.

“Yes, please-“ You slapped your hand over your own mouth for saying that.

Both men turned and gave you surprised looks.

“I’m sorry- I- wasn’t suppose to say that out loud.” Your entire body flushed with embarrassment for having no filter. You blamed John for this. You weren’t sure how it was his fault but you’d figure that out later.

“Later, darling.” John shot you and wink. He had you feeling like a teenager gushing over her crush. If he blew a kiss at you it would’ve knocked you over.

The cheeky comment had you stifling a laugh while the officer kept a cool demeanor. Watching you and your husband flirt was not on his agenda today. In fact he was suppose to be looking into the man who was going through mailboxes since he was in the neighborhood.

“Well, the call was a mistake. I’ll be on my way. let me know if you seen anything suspicious about the man lurking around.” With a nod officer Parker made a move to leave but once again was distracted by John’s car.

“Who’s been making the complaints.” John asked while pulling his cigar from his teeth and asking.

“I can’t disclose that.” The officer gave John a sharp look for the question. He continued on his way not wanting to deal with either of you anymore.

“Not even for a ride.” John nodded at his car.

“Do anything for a ride.” You mumbled under your breath to yourself. John didn’t catch it but the officer glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Is this where your daughter learned to bribe an officer!?” He turned back around and barked.

“He’s joking. Right, John?” Your pushing had John raising his hands by his shoulder, chuckling deeply then taking a drag of his cigar.

“‘Course I am. We know it’s the Patterson’s. You keeping an eye on the nephew like you said? ” The lack of response to John spoke volumes.

“Good day.” The officer forcefully spoke before leaving.

John chuckled as the officer left and then slammed the hood of the car back in place. Glancing over his shoulder John caught sight of you giving him big innocent eyes and a shy smile. Your arms were behind your back leaving John’s eyes to wander to your cleavage in that little sundress that drove him mad.

The prospect of having some privacy had you pouncing at the opportunity. Now it was your time to shine and get the attention you craved from your husband. So you flirted like a slag and decided some role play would be fun. John the mechanic and you some damsel who forgot her wallet.

“Thank you for fixing my car, sir. I don’t have any money but I’m willing to repay you in other ways.” You flirted shamelessly with John.

A thick eyebrow quirked and his lips turned skyward at your forward advances. The thick hair of his mutton chops looked tantalizing in the afternoon sunlight. You were drinking him in like a cool glass of tea on this hot summer day.

“I’ll take payment in full.” That deep British accent made you weak in the knees.

You let out a yelp as John grabbed you and man handled you. He had you perched on the hood of his car with his hands under your skirt and dragging your panties down. His hands were rough against your soft skin and that confidence from before only grew and surrounded you. It felt like he was going to eat you alive and savor every bite.

“John the officer hasn’t left.” The sound of your quiet squeal was muffled by the officers car door thudding shut.

“Just want him to know how good I’ve got it. A house, family, classic car, and a wife who’ll let me fuck her on the hood of said car.” John all but purred against your neck as he laid open mouth kisses over the shallow teeth marks he left behind.

“John, you’re gonna get us in trouble. And I’m not going to let you fuck me on the hood of the car. Not with some creep wandering around the neighborhood?” You giggled when he snapped the band of your panties against your thighs where he had dragged them halfway down.

A tingling sensation ran up your spine but it wasn’t from your excitement. In a flash you felt watched, like two eye were boring into you. It was a visceral reaction that you instantly felt like prey. Looking to your left you stared into the forest. It no longer looked like it always did but had this darkness seeping out from it. And for a second you swore you saw something shift behind a tree. Blinking a few times you decided your eyes were playing tricks on you. No way would someone be watching you with John here and a cop sitting in your driveway.

Both men were too distracted by you to notice your eyes locked on something in the forest. All the officer could see was John’s broad shoulders and back. That and the exposed skin of your knees and shins on either side of the massive frame of your husband. It wasn’t lewd from this angle but it was clear what John was saying without words.

She’s Mine

“C’mon darling, we won’t get caught. You know he thinks you’re pretty. Especially in this little dress. Let me rub it in.” There was a dark chuckle that followed John’s sultry words.

He pulled down the strap of your dress so it hung limply off your shoulder and exposed how you weren’t wearing a bra. The action had that sinking feeling in your gut intensifying. John wasn’t the only man looking at you right now. There was no way to prove it, you could just feel it. You gulped down the rock in your throat not wanting to make a big deal on what you were chalking up to anxiety.

Turning to look at the officer, John and him shared an intense look. It was one of pride for John and jealousy on the officers end. John smiled like the smug bastard he was and waved goodbye. The officer didn’t look away as he started his engine and you hid behind John, feeling utterly embarrassed by your husband’s audacity. He was waving you around like some prize he won.

You made eye contact for only a brief moment over John’s shoulder when he dipped down to pick you up and bring you inside. There was no doubt Officer Parker officially hated the Price family but in the second your eyes met he saw your fear. He wondered why all of a sudden you looked like that and if your husband was someone who scared you. This made him hate your husband for being so arrogant. It was clear John was about to bed you and have his way, which was only insult to injury for the officer. But now he wondered if something else was going on.

You just hoped the next time John started shooting foxes it would scare off whoever had been lurking around the neighborhood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter: Secret Admirer

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 7 months ago

Text

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ simple acts of love from skz

—All the times stray kids said I love you in the little things.

words・6.8k pairings・stray kids x reader genres・fluff, a little crack, established relationships warnings・lots and lots of kisses!! happy tears, drunken re-confessions, silliness, playful living room dancing, minhos a shy baby, he's also a little shit in changbins, erotic painting in hyunjins, hans is a little bit more emotional, silly little proposals, my terrible attempt at writing lyrics, jeongin stalks your goodreads profile and buys your entire TBR list like I don't have at least a thousand tbr books...some of these are silly some of these are sickeningly sweet,

a/n・I wrote these drabbles based on these headcanons, but I did change Minho's because I believed it fit him better!! Also, this has been rotting in my drafts for MONTHS im not super proud of them, but I hope you like them anyways.

ᡣ𐭩 chan + sneaking into your bathroom to trace hearts onto the bathroom mirror.

"This is a suicide mission!" his lungs scream as he slips into your inferno of a bathroom, a heavy cloak of steam hugging him instantly. His respiratory system begs for release, a moist cough rolling up his throat; but like the magnificent boyfriend he is, he shoves those rebellious bodily functions right back down his windpipe.

Was his silly little plan worth the ability to breathe? Yes. Did he also wonder how you even could? Also yes.

The mirror fogs like the surface of an ancient lake, obstructing the image of his mischievous grin. He brings a pointer finger to the glass, drawing all his ardor in the mist—though it only comes out as lopsided hearts.

Your voice floats out from behind the curtain, absentmindedly humming to a silent tune. Shadows of your hands move through your hair, your body refracted onto the thin sheet.

You are so beautiful...

Cupid smacks his jaw shut.

He manages to slip out right as the water sputters off, sliding into the living room by his socks. He face-plants onto the couch, scrambling to sit upright. The loud smack of your towel echoes in his ears as his wide eyes dart to the table, frantically searching for something to occupy his attention. He snatches the first thing he sees, which just happens to be a... candle?

Whatever, no time!

Chan is intently studying the ocean-blue Bath & Body Works label, when you come pattering out, damp hair dribbling water behind you. The moment you step into his line of sight, his heart plummets—that stupid aromatherapy candle nearly tumbling with it.

There you were, in all your drenched glory, your towel wrapped snug against your chest, tears rolling freely down your cheeks. Did you hear that?! Tears!! You were crying?! Why were you crying?!?!

Chan must have embodied the spirit of a kangaroo, because he’s never jumped up faster in his life.

"Why are you crying? You're supposed to be happy!" he yelps, yanking your body into his arms, water seeping into the thin fabric of his tee shirt. His brain becomes the equivalent of the world’s most fucked-up ambrosia when you begin laughing, the curve of your smile pressed into his chest. He blinks—he doesn't know whether to kiss you or call a priest. Maybe he should do both?

Suddenly you pull away, cocooning his cheeks with pruney hands, your bottom lip wobbling as you sob, "I'm so in love with you."

Well, good job—now he's sobbing too.

"I'm in love with you too, baby."

You had drawn hearts on the walls of his soul in the same way he had drawn them in the steam of your mirror. The only difference is, yours would never fade away.

ᡣ𐭩 minho + randomly sending you songs that remind him of you.

Minho wasn't the type to throw his arms around you, pressing kisses to your face with all his overflowing ardor. Instead, in the minuscule overlaps of time between talking on the phone and constructing a perfect dance routine, he'll find himself sitting dazed upon the lounge room couch, mindlessly nodding to a catchy tune. He had left his Spotify on smart shuffle, finding comfort in the idea of a song found without searching, as if it were fate's gentle finger dusting the path to new adventures. He flutters his eyelids shut, ripples of sound washing over his skin.

And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine

In a rash flood of emotions, he sends you the song just before Chan steps into view, announcing his dire need to finish choreographing the final steps of their newest single. Begrudgingly, he slips his phone into his back pocket, his earbuds following suit. The only thing that keeps him sane throughout the day is the anticipation that he will go home and see you, and that makes it all worth it.

ᡣ𐭩

May I have this dance?" you declare, extending your arm with feigned seriousness, though the playful smile tugging at your lips betrays you instantly.

“What?” Minho chuckles through furrowed brows, observing the unusual surroundings; candles flicker dim lighting on the walls, throwing shadows on the rose petals you had scattered around your living room, forming an intriguing resemblance to a romantic dance floor. He sets the bags of groceries on the ground. Lee Know is so beyond confused, yet also pleasantly surprised, especially when you waltz over to him, tight red dress hugging all your gorgeous curves.

“You still haven't answered my question,” you sing, playfully twirling into his arms. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, tracing mindless circles in his hair. A shiver rolls up his spine as you tilt your face forward, lips so close; his heart flutters like a fragile leaf tumbling down from an autumn tree. He blinks before exhaling—

“Of course, I'll dance with you.”

A delighted squeal erupts from your lips, and you jump away from his arms, heading straight over to your phone to play the song he sent you prior. A warm blush floods his cheeks, painting them a bashful red.

“Did you like it?” His eyes fall away from yours.

“Did I like it?? Of course I liked it!” you squeal, gaping at him like he was the dumbest person on the planet. World War Three rages inside his chest as he fights not to fold like a lawn chair, flopping on the floor like a flustered starfish. Though when your hands rub their way up from his chest to his shoulders, he's surprised he's even upright. Your hips sway to the melody, a warm smile melting away all his defenses; but when you guide his awkward hands to the dip in your hips, it’s game over. He stuffs his face into your neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses, his brain screaming: distract the enemy!! distract the enemy!!

“Do you know how much I love you?” he mumbles with striking genuineness. Instead of answering his question, you simply twirl yourself around his finger, placing his hand to wrap around the small of your back. He dips you down right as the music swells. It was magical, really—the candlelight twinkling in your peripheral, spills of starlight dancing off the ocean's surface. It was all so perfect—that was until your shoe caught on one of the rose petals, the floor turning slick under your feet. You send yourself tumbling straight to the ground. Minho squeals, grasping at thin air, but then he too also slips, frantically shooting his wrists out so he doesn't crush you.

The music cuts through the deafening silence as petals weave their way into your hair. You roll your lips into your teeth, glancing over to an eerily still Minho, staring at the ceiling like a spooked tabby. As if he could feel your eyes, his gaze finds yours, and only then does he burst out into roaring laughter, which prompts you to also join the fun.

“Are you sure you're the main dancer?” you tease through breathy giggles. He gasps, smacking a dramatic hand over his chest.

“I’ll have you know you fell first.”

And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine

In that moment, as the light hits you just right, he swears he finds the universe in your eyes. Your skin is showered in candlelight, head tilted back—joy flickers on your tongue as honey drips from your teeth. His heart pounds against his ribs, flowers sprouting in his lungs. To the world, he was an aloof grump with smooth moves and an impressive affinity for cats; but to you, with you, he was so much more.

Mid-snort, he captures your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. In a single gesture, he is pouring all the words he wished to say—

though to you, it tasted a little bit like—

If he had to blow a wish on every dandelion in the universe just to keep you, he would; and only through your lips would he find the power to keep breathing.

ᡣ𐭩 changbin + gushing about you while drunk

The balmy patio is sticky with soju-infused groans, most of the boys slumped in their respective seats, throwing back exasperated swigs of their drinks as they desperately try to drown out Changbin’s relentless rambles.

The two semicircle outdoor couches form a full circle around an unlit bonfire pit. On one of the couches sits a completely unfazed Felix, taking small sips of his soju between chuckles; an extremely annoyed Seungmin, glaring daggers at Changbin; and I.N, who doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything except, well, sleeping—body slumped against the armrest. Hyunjin is sandwiched between Chan and Changbin on the other couch: Chan, who wishes he never even brought up the idea to buy beer in the first place, and Changbin, who is currently slumped over a very irked Hyunjin’s lap. Han is somewhere in the house, probably giggling at his own swirling reflection.

Hyunjin digs his fingers into the roots of his locks, fighting every urge not to yank the tufts straight out.

“N-no, but Jinnie, you don’t u-understand—she’s so pretty,” Changbin slurs, stuffing his face into his friend’s hoodie, which makes Hyunjin frown and swat him away.

“That’s it! I’m calling Y/N!” Seungmin announces, jumping up from his seat. Chan grabs his sleeve, yanking him straight back down, much to Seungmin’s dismay. he sinks into the polyester in a puddle of disgruntled grumbles.

"Or we could record him," Minho calls out from the shadows of the back entryway, only ever appearing when he needed more beer or more entertainment. And right now, it was dinner and a show. Minho simply shrugs as if his evil plan wouldn’t ruin his best friend's bad-boy reputation. "Send it to Y/N later," he mumbles to himself, the devil tilting his cheek up. Nobody seems to hear him, so he slyly pulls his phone from his pocket and presses record.

"No, no, no! You can't call Y/N. She’ll know I love her!" Changbin gasps in horror, stumbling to grab the phantom phone that apparently appears on Hyunjin’s lap with the way he paws at his jeans. Hyunjin takes a nice, long swig of his soju.

"You know you and Y/N have been together for over four years, right?" Felix chuckles, finding the whole ordeal pure comedic relief.

"No, you don’t understand. She’ll know I love her... lover," Changbin’s words slur into an incoherent shake of his head. Minho's evil cackles float out from the concealment of the doorway, and Chan perks up.

"Minho, what are you doing?!" Minho slams his phone against his thigh. What the hell?? Does Chan have Spidey senses or something??

"Nothing!" he yelps, sounding super convincing. Chan narrows his eyes toward the darkness where Minho is supposedly lurking, sporting an eerily perfect rendition of a frustrated father. That is, until Changbin begins a very off-tune version of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” rolling over on Hyunjin’s lap to tap his fingers up his arm and eventually landing on Hyunjin’s nose with a giggle. When Hyunjin almost bites his finger off, Chan finally diverts his attention. Minho thanks God for the shadows—how else would he have gotten away with recording all of that?

“I’m about two seconds away from bringing you back to Y/N,” Hyunjin sighs, his lips pressed into a tight line as he glares at the man whose eyes just burst with light at the thought of seeing you. Chan smacks Hyunjin on the back sympathetically, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why me, Lord? Why me?" Chan sings his woes under his breath but just loud enough for the camera to pick up—and for Minho to giggle.

"Y/N, I miss Y/N. Can I go home to Y/N, please?" Changbin hiccups, slumping his head onto Hyunjin’s shoulder. Hyunjin’s eye twitches. "I wanna tell the pretty girl I love her."

Felix emerges from his silence with a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his beer all over the floor. "Weren't you just saying you didn’t want to tell her you loved her?"

Changbin whips his gaze forward, his eyes hardening into a very foggy glare. "Well, now I want to tell the pretty girl I love her," he states matter-of-factly, his eyes fluttering a bit, betraying just how drunk he is.

Felix’s amusement is transparent as he raises his beer in Changbin’s direction. "Somebody needs to bring him to Y/N and let him re-confess his undying love for her."

Seungmin has never jumped up so fast in his life; he’s mid-volunteer when Chan grabs the cuff of his sleeve again and yanks him right back on his ass. Seungmin collapses onto the couch, ready to spit a disrespectful insult at his elder, but he folds like a lawn chair when Chan shoots him that look.

"Seungmin, you are far too drunk to take him home, while I," he looks to the sky with regret, "am very regretfully sober." Chan sounds like he’s going through the five stages of grief in one sentence.

"Okay, buddy, I’m taking you home," Chan grunts, clapping the drunken boy on the back. Changbin beams like he just heard there was a cure for cancer.

"Hell yeah!" He jumps up, only to stumble slightly, the patio swimming in his vision as he catches himself on Hyunjin’s forehead. When he finally, barely stabilizes himself, he throws his hands up. "See y’all bitches later! I—” he dramatically points to his chest in pride, “—am going to see my girl," he declares and marches straight out the door. Chan is mid-goodbye hug turned introspection with Felix, wondering what he’s doing with his life, when he hears a loud shatter in the hallway. Chan falls out of Felix’s arms immediately, his stride turned sprint.

"Son of a bitch, Changbin, that was my favorite vase!"

ᡣ𐭩

“Go ahead, tell the pretty girl how much you love her,” you tease, playfully mimicking kissy faces while simultaneously poking Changbin’s crumpled form, his boiling cheeks sandwiched between his knees.

Why did Minho have to send you that video? But most of all, why did he have to send it while Changbin was still hungover? All this humiliation can’t be good for his headache.

Changbin groans, falling back on the bed to pull a pillow over his scorching face. The fact that the whole mattress hasn’t burst into flames is truly beyond him. Giggles pour from your lips, even as they settle atop his stomach, leaving kisses all the way up his torso. You can hear his flustered pants from down here.

“Okay, that’s enough bullying for one day,” you say, straddling his waist to snake your arms around his waist, pressing your chests flush together. Your teeth graze his shoulder, softly biting the flesh. “Come on, baby, take the pillow off your face.” You press your smile against his shirt before resting your chin on his chest.

He peeks out from under the pillow, tugging it down just enough to reveal his eyes, still reluctant to fully reveal himself. You bat your lashes at him, pouting ever so slightly. He folds—like a damn lawn chair, at this point, he’s practically collapsing in on himself with how much he’s folded. His face melts into a grin as he finally pulls the pillow down.

He so regrets that.

Your face lights up with laughter as you take in his beet-red cheeks, your eyes disappearing into crinkled slits. “I’m sorry, I just... I just can’t,” you cackle, doubling over in heaves.

“I hate you,” Changbin shouts, flustered, smacking you square in the side of the head with the pillow. It does nothing to quell your amusement; in fact, it only makes it worse.

“That’s not what you said last night,” you snort, falling off him as you kick your feet against the sheets.

Despite his urge to tie a millstone around his ankle and jump off the face of the earth, he can’t help but smile, caught in an unusual state of awe. Your mouth is boxy, laughter filling the air like strands of warm honey.

“Apparently, you think about me a lot,” you snicker, still rolling around. his smile only spreads wider.

If only you knew how much he thought of you.

ᡣ𐭩 hyunjin + painting perfectly captured portraits of you

“Hold still for me, baby,” Hyunjin whispers, his voice low and intimate, as he lightly drags his brush down the length of your arm, adding the final touches to your portrait. His gaze traces your bare body, memorizing every inch until even the freckle on the upper left side of your waist is drawn onto the inside of his eyelids. The valley of your breasts trembles with each labored breath, your muscles tightening against the couch where you lay.

“I’m really trying, Jinnie, but it hurts,” you whine, fighting to keep your head steady. Your boyfriend lets out a breathy laugh, savoring one final glance at your naked form. With careful precision, he drags the sharpest part of his brush down your thigh, finishing the entire painting with his favorite peice of you.

“Done,” Hyunjin murmurs, settling back into his chair with a satisfied smile, admiring the art he’s just created. Usually when he painted, there was always something he hated about his work—whether it's the proportions or the colors were slightly out of harmony—it was never good enough. but when he paints you, there's never an issue; for he could capture you with children's finger paints, and you'd still find a way to look utterly breathtaking.

“Let me see,” you squeal, jumping up from the uncomfortable spot you’d claimed on his couch. A faint blush appears on his face as he turns the easel around, unraveling his heart before you. And oh, when he does—you collapse into his arms, all your strength diffused into a shuddering gasp. He had dipped his brush into your soul, and with every meticulous stroke, he gathered the very essence of your heart. It was almost unreal how perfect he made you appear to be—your moles speckled across your skin in gold, dusted like stars; your stretch marks adorned in silver, shining like slips of light.

How are you not sobbing right now??

“Is it okay?” he asks, bashfully wrapping his arms around your naked waist, completely unfazed by your current state of undress.

“Hyunjin, this is more than okay,” you sniffle, voice crackling with emotion. You turn to meet his gaze, only for his palms cradle your cheeks with a touch so tender, it's barely there. One second, you’re breathing; the next, you’re transcending, existing only between his lips.

By the time you come up for air, the world around you has changed. He’s on top of you now, his hands resting on either side of your head, thoughts long forgotten. He moves closer, allowing whisps of his hair to tickle the sensitive flesh of your neck; for his lips to settle upong the delicate curve of your collarbone. He doesn’t stop—he doesn’t stop until the sun kisses your skin, until the sky is filled with the very stars he painted upon your skin.

Only in love and art are you eternal and in hyunjin, with hyunjin, you are both.

ᡣ𐭩 han + hiding messages into every song he produces

"In every lifetime," a heartfelt promise whispered between shuttering breaths. Han's lips parted, your tongue savoring his astonished gasp. "What did you say?" quickly transformed into "Did you mean it?" when you had tenderly threaded your fingers into his hair, the pad of your thumb settling just under his jaw. Your needy hands had fogged his head, but he never forgot it.

"In every lifetime," you had uttered many moons later, nestled underneath the stretch of midnight sky. The universe had stilled, all of time and space screeching to a deafening halt. You unraveled the scrolls of his soul, and with the eternal vow of "I do," swore forever. So, he, for however long he may live, intends to hold you to that promise.

From: Hannie 🐿 Do not by any means play my new song!!!

From: Hannie 🐿 Im serious!!

From: Hannie 🐿 Promise me Y/N!!!

You giggle at his earnestness, clicking the notification to message him back.

From: My Wife ❤ I won't I promise!

From: My Wife ❤ Scouts honor 🫡

You admired Han's dedication to his craft, but what you admired most was his need to share every single part of it with you.

"You didn't listen to the song, did you?" Han calls out from the foyer, slamming the front door behind him. He urgently throws off his shoes, his heavy footsteps following him all the way up the stairs. Your mirth bubbles up behind a bitten grin, lip firmly tucked between your teeth.

"No!" you shout back, feigning indifference; though when he swings your bedroom door open, you’re overcome with breathy giggles—his hair is tossed around at all angles, puffed cheeks pink and gasping.

Now that was the man you fell in love with.

"Somebody's eager," you tease, chucking your phone somewhere on the bed. His eyes are oddly fearful when you lift yourself up from the comforter, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. His chest heaves, breath labored and shaky; flighty fingers find the knot of his tie, yanking it loose. You reel your head back. Since when does he wear a tie? You flick your gaze down his figure. Since when does he wear suits?? Your confusion only festers as he lets out an anxious chuckle, wringing his hands like wet rags.

"You have no idea." You didn’t know—didn’t know what he was about to risk. His heart was clay in your hands, and with the delicacy of a butterfly's wing, you pressed your fingerprints into his skin. For now, through touch alone, his soul will find you in every lifetime; but first, he must promise you himself in this one, and that appeared to be an impossible feat.

It's now or never, he tells himself.

So, with an arduous breath, he steadies his quivering hands just long enough to slip his phone out of his back pocket. Was it just him, or is it suddenly really hot in here? He swipes to YouTube. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?? He presses play. His heart somersaults its way down to his stomach when the opening melody echoes from the speakers. Your brows lift, lips pursing in your signature concentrated quirk. His mouth forms around a smile, breathing getting marginally easier, but that peace is short-lived as the chorus begins—only then does he feel the symptoms of real fear.

In every lifetime, his warm voice melts from the speaker.

A falling star just shot from space and hit you directly in the chest, rendering you utterly speechless; even as your gaze finds his glassy eyes, you just can’t believe it.

In every lifetime you swore.

It’s just too perfect.

So, for as long as I may live, I wanna be yours.

He’s just too perfect.

In every lifetime I'll dip my knee down.

There’s no way.

And yet he sinks to one knee, slipping a velvet box from the confines of his pocket. Your hands make purchase around your mouth, stifling a wet cry.

In every lifetime I'll ask to be yours.

"Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"

You drop to your knees, tears tracing cordate-shaped rivulets down your cheeks. "Yes, Han, I'll marry you! I'll marry you!"

Your lips swear forever as they land on his, and that promise echoes far into lifetime number twelve.

ᡣ𐭩 felix + giving you gum wrapper hearts

Lee Felix was stupid in love, heavy on the stupid, figuring he was about to start World War Three to get that gum wrapper out of Seungmin’s hand.

“Please,” Felix begs, drawing out the "e" in an obnoxious whine.

Felix has been professing his love for you through gum wrapper hearts for about as long as he’s been chewing gum, so he is going to be damned if he lets one gum wrapper gets away without meeting his fingers first. Seungmin’s eyes harden into an frustrated glare, about two seconds away from punching a pizza-sized hole in his best friend’s face.

“You know, the more that you beg me for this wrapper, the more I don’t want to give it to you,” he deadpans, voice flat with irritation. Felix throws his head back in an ear-splitting groan.

“Whyyy not??”

“Oh my gosh, Seungmin, just give him the damn wrapper,” Chan interjects, exasperated.

“Yeah, listen to Chan. Give Felix the wrapper,” Felix teases, laying his chin on his hand, fluttering his lashes with a shit-eating grin. Seungmin clenches his jaw, crumpling up the foil—much to poor Lixie’s dismay.

“Did you see that, Chan?! Seungmin crumpled my wrapper!” Seungmin squeezes it harder. “Look! Do you see that, Chan?! Seungmin is bullying me!” Chan sighs, digging a knuckle into his eye. He is about five seconds away from sticking both grown toddlers in time out.

“Seungmin, for the sake of my sanity, give Felix the damn gum wrapper.” The fact that he actually had to tell two full-fledged adults that was truly beyond him, yet here he was.

“It’s the principle of it, old man—” As soon as the words leave his lips, Seungmin wants to stuff them right back in. Chan grits his teeth, steam practically whistling from his ears.

Oh, crap.

“You little—” Chan dives for Seungmin, to which he squeals, ducking from his elder’s hand, gearing up to smack him square in the forehead. In the clamber of movements, he ends up dropping the beloved wrapper. Felix lets out a squeal of excitement, lunging for the foil. When the crumpled aluminum sits in his hands, he has never felt so rewarded in his entire life, smiling like he just won a million bucks.

Almost out of muscle memory, he begins smoothing it out, folding up all the right corners. He beams, stuffing the little token into his pocket, fingers itching to give it to you later.

“Thanks, Seungmin,” Felix smirks, taking a proud sip of his drink. Seungmin manages to stick his tongue out while trapped in a headlock.

“You suck,” he wheezes, throwing weak slaps onto Chan's bicep. Felix giggles, his phone buzzing against his jeans. Felix quite literally drops everything to pick it up, his heart singing the same song as your special ringtone.

From: My world 💙 Look, baby, isn’t it so beautiful? I took the pic while I was on my way to work. I actually swerved off the road to take the picture, haha. Just wanted to share it with you. Love you, baby!! [Image.png]

When he clicks the image, his phone is flooded with the most breathtaking view. The sky is stained like melting ice cream, cotton candy colors that burst around your hair, though that isn’t what Felix is looking at—he is looking at you. The moment he looks into your lopsided smile, Cupid shoots him all over again.

From: My star-light 🌟 Wow.

From: My star-light 🌟 No words.

From: My star-light 🌟 I didn’t know my girlfriend could look so stunning.

From: My star-light 🌟 Oh, wait, there was a sunset back there somewhere.

From: My star-light 🌟 Yeah, that was pretty too.

From: My star-light 🌟 Are we still on for tonight?? I miss youuu.

From: My world 💙 Oh my gosh, Lix, you’re making me blush, haha.

Seungmin chokes somewhere in the background. Felix doesn’t notice. Felix is submerged in the silky ocean of rose-colored love.

From: My world 💙 Of course we are!!

From: My world 💙 I miss you too, baby!!

From: My world 💙 Literally can’t wait to see you.

Felix is mid-text when his friends suddenly turn bright red, clambering to untangle themselves from the mess of limbs they got themselves stuck in. Felix doesn’t realize the reason Chan is suddenly fixing his hair or Seungmin is unruffling his shirt is because two of the most stunning women just walked past them. Felix was too focused on making time move faster.

ᡣ𐭩

Felix has never been to space, though he can accurately say that he has tasted the sky.

He sips the stars off your lips, every shared breath an inhale of the galaxy. Felix knows that somewhere, someplace time exists, but not here, not now, not with the blades of grass lacing through his hair; not when he’s pressing your chest flush against his, rolling around on the ground until the night sky is kissing the earth in his vision. Your laughs are buried in his neck when he gets too dizzy to continue, littering kisses on the sensitive flesh there. You pull away for only a moment, brushing a rogue strand of hair off his brow. You smile, dipping to press a soft peck to the tip of his nose.

The two of you had crept into this darkened backyard hours ago; you proposing a date under the stars only to share them between your lips instead. You have been locked in this position for lifetimes, and Felix has no plan to stop.

His palms lift to graze your cheeks before sealing your mouths together again. His soft laugh puffs against the seam of your lips, his smile curving against your own. “God, I am so in love with you.”

He was; he so, so, so was.

He was so in love with you, he had almost forgotten about his gift. Key word: almost.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he gasps, chasing your warmth when he pulls away, sitting up.

“What?” you playfully whine, biting back a grin, settling your hips against his thighs. He chuckles, poking a finger into his pocket, fishing out the gum wrapper heart.

“I know it’s not perfect,” he whispers, cupping something in his palm, “but I hope you still like it.” He rolls his fingers out bashfully, offering you the crinkled silver heart. He bites his lip, a faint blush falling over the apples of his cheeks. The little gift was by no means perfect; it was ripped, wrinkled, and just a little lopsided. Yet you can’t help the fondness that explodes in your chest. Still cradling the heart with care, you throw your arms around his neck, tackling him to the ground. Your chest flush against his, he grunts when you land upon the earth, smacking slobbery kisses all over his face. You don’t stop, not until he is flipping you over, now attacking you with equally wet kisses. Your giggles live in the balmy summer air.

To you, he was the sun; but to him, you were the universe

ᡣ𐭩 seungmin + buying you a bouquet every time the old ones wilt

October 11th, 2020.

That was the last time your apartment smelled like something other than florals. That was also the first time Seungmin had ever bought you flowers—a simple gift for your one-year anniversary that spiraled into a four-year tradition. You don’t ever talk about it, and he certainly denies it, when you thank him for how the wilting tulips magically evolved into beautiful daylilies. You find it endearing, the faint blush that falls over his cheeks when he tries to convince you that it wasn’t him.

Now that you think about it, your white roses did seem to have a little bit of brown on them yesterday.

Mid-wipe of the bathroom counter, you rush down the stairs, almost sliding into the kitchen in your socks. Without fail, there they were: bright red tulips, replacing the withering roses that had been in the vase earlier. A spreading grin pulls at your lips as you check the stove clock, quickly connecting the dots.

You had been cleaning the bathroom most of the evening, your earbuds blocking the world out. He had probably heard you humming from upstairs, choosing the perfect time to sneak in through the door. You squeal, sprinting up the stairs to throw open your bedroom door. You expect to find him lounging on the bed, but instead, you find him below it, cradling a square object in his hands. His head whips around, panic falling over his features. He slams the lid shut before fumbling to shove it right back under the bed, much to your dismay.

“Hey, what?” You yelp, diving for the box. Seungmin blocks you, accidentally knocking it out of his hands, unfurling its contents all over the floor.

It looks like a garden just threw up in your bedroom.

Hundreds, thousands of differently shaped petals are scattered on your floor, tufts of colorful memories spread out like a silky scroll. First, you freeze. Then, you gasp; your muscles thawing like a flower unfurling in the snow. It hits you slowly, blossoming in your chest and spilling from your eyes—Seungmin hasn’t been throwing away the flowers he bought you. He’s been collecting them.

You didn’t realize you were crying—not until you spoke—“Seungmin, what is this?”—then you heard it, your voice withering and wet. When you finally go to meet his gaze, he can’t seem to look at you, tilting his head down in shame.

“W-Well I-I’ve just…” he begins, trailing off with a rub of his burning neck. “Fuck, this is going to sound so stupid,” he flushes, staring down at the single yellow petal that fluttered onto his folded thighs. Suddenly, Seungmin feels your thumb brushing over his knuckles, and something shoots through his skin, something that straightens his spine and evens his breathing.

“I-I’ve um…” This was harder than he thought it would be. “Been collecting them for a while now, I wanted to keep them for when we get married. Wanted to scatter them down the aisle…”

His voice gets smaller with every word, sinking into himself as though that will make the gravity of the sentence less exposed, less raw. For a second, as silence stretches between you, Seungmin feels so stupid, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. You must think he’s such a fool, must think he’s crazy for ever believing he could marry you—his thoughts stop the moment your lips meet his, palms pressed firmly against his cheeks.

“I love you,” you whisper in between breaths, kissing him until it feels like you can’t kiss anymore; until he falls back upon the feathery bed made of magnolias and memories; until, with a star-lit sigh, he pulls away, untucking the red of a dried rose tangled above your brow. Even surrounded by God's most beautiful creations, he can’t bring his gaze to fall from yours, your eyes and all the mesmerizing sparkles they hold.

Seungmin couldn’t trace the exact moment he fell in love with you. Rather, it bloomed slowly over time, a feeling that took root; wrapping around the slabs of his ribs.

With you, he grew, and all of a sudden, with every breath he inhales, he finds you fluttering in his chest. At first, it terrified him. Though, now he knows—some gardens never die.

ᡣ𐭩 jeongin + stalking your goodreads profile to annotate your favorite books

“So, you’re a stalker, huh?” you muse, brushing your palm over Jeongin’s shoulder, which was clearly not a good idea, cause no sooner do you make contact is he jumping twenty feet out of his skin. You throw your hands up when he swivels around, ripping off his headphones like they were going to materialize into a baseball bat.

“Crap, y/n, you scared the hell out of me,” Jeongin pants, a relieved smile pulling on his cheeks; grateful that the intruder was indeed his girlfriend and not a 6-foot-tall man in a scream mask. For a second, he wonders if you’re possessed, a lopsided smirk playing on your lips while you tweak out, kind of laughing, kind of nodding, kind of looking like you need an exorcism. Then it hits him. Hits him like a 200-pound dump truck, rendering him breathless once more. He puts Flash to shame by how fast he slams his laptop shut, scrunching his face in cringe. The laugh you let out is devastating, a full-belly guffaw that makes you double over, stumbling straight into his arms.

For a second, when the lamplight hits you just right, Jeongin has to stop.

His breath catches in his throat, taking all of you in. There you were, with your hair falling in messy tangles, your eyelids slightly smudged in black, your smile boxy and sun-bright, you were perfect, and you were sitting on his lap. If you didn’t start talking, he would have stared at you for hours—probably would have started drooling as well.

“So, this is how you’ve known all my favorite books, huh?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. It takes him a hot second to gather himself, heart fluttering at the newfound proximity.

He stuffs his head into your neck, the heat of his cheeks burning into your skin. “Yeah…is that weird?”

“Is it weird?? Yang Jeongin, I’m pretty sure you just inadvertently proposed to me,” you reply, your tone light-hearted though you're dead serious.

“What?” He chuckles with a shy smile, leaning back.

“Yeah, I mean, you stalk your girlfriend’s Goodreads profile to read and annotate her TBR list. That is a proposal. I don’t make the rules.”

“Is that so?” he smirks, inching forward, your noses brushing together.

“Yeah,” you whisper, hot breath fanning across his lips, you lean in, finally sealing your mouths shut. Jeongin groans, your thumb swiping the nape of his neck. His heart pounds with a thousand different translations of 'I love you'.

“How many?”

He hums, slamming back down to earth, still a little bit dizzy.

“How many books have you bought?”

That sobers him up.

His eyes widen slightly before he bashfully chuckles, awkwardly scratching his ear. “Oh, uh…not that many.”

“Can I see them?” He’s two seconds from saying no, until you brush your lips against his cheeks, then his forehead, then the sides of his eyes, before, finally, he is tasting your grin instead, “Please?”

Well, how can he say no now?

He fiddles with the bottom of your shirt, biting his lip before sighing and pointing under his bed. “They’re all under there.”

You squeal, clambering off him to dive at the foot of his bed, sticking your hands into the dusty abyss below. It doesn’t take you but five seconds to find the box, though it takes you 5 minutes to actually pull the damn thing out, feeling more like a dead body than dead trees.

However, when you flip open the lid, the struggle is all worth it. Your jaw drops. Jeongin’s stomach flips upside down.

"Yang Jeongin, there’s no way..." You peer at him through dewy lashes, there had to be at least fifty books in this container. "You were planning on giving me all of these?"

"Well, yeah. Just...when I had enough time to annotate them."

"You've already given me like 10. How have you found enough time to read them?"

"I read them every night before I go to bed."

"And annotate them?"

He clears his throat, a faint blush falling over his cheeks like rose petals. "Yes."

"Where did you get the money for all this? These books have to have been like a thousand dollars."

"My check had just come in, and I knew how much you liked to read... I just wanted to do something nice for you. Why is this starting to feel kind of like an interrogation? Are you mad? Is this, like, really weird?" Jeongin can feel his eyes widen, anxiously shifting in place.

“One more question,” you step forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. He shutters when you make contact, gaze fluttering down. Jeongin expects you to laugh, maybe demand that he takes them back, or the worst of them all tell him he’s too obsessed. What he doesn’t expect you to do is drag him forward, and smash your lips together.

“How are you so perfect?” you exhale, puffing onto his lips like a breath of his own. He was going to show you how, he was going to show you how all night long.

ᡣ𐭩

If you thought he was perfect then you definitely think he is perfect now.

The sun slips through the curtains, dyeing your sweaty skin in gold; your mouth is nuzzled into his neck, lashes tickling his skin every time you shift. He draws phantom circles over your naked waist, savoring this moment, soaking your body in until he can remember the feel of your form through memory alone. You stir, feeling his heartbeat pick up.

It must have been a dream that urged you to say it, because somewhere, on the edge of sleep, you murmur, “What’s your favorite story?”

He didn’t have to think about the answer, not when he had thought about it a million times before. Without hesitation, Jeongin whispers, “Ours.”

(I rushed tf out of some of these I'm sorry)

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz fluff #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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