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#partner is in the hospital room (in the past)
moeblob · 7 months
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I kinda maybe put a lot of my OC plot tag lines on a Wheel and gave it a spin so outta 79 options, it landed on "Cellphone Justice" which is... these two.
Matthew "Skittles" Mouse and Daisy Eddington
Partners in justice (of sorts). They're basically vigilantes and their orders are simply text messages. They don't really know who their bosses are but they do as they are told.
Skittles is a very mediocre guy. Doesn't stand out. The most color he has in his wardrobe is blue jeans. He's amazingly asexual and has zero interest in romance regardless of intimacy and yet he gets partnered with Daisy. The gayest lady he has ever met. Great start. She enjoys calling him fun little nicknames but seeing as they're monitored closely (via cell phones/technology) she is scolded and told to pick a single one. So she does. She dubs him Skittles. The candy as gay as her.
The one thing they have in common is their number one weakness: cute girls.
Daisy turns into a stuttering MESS of a human being. A disaster. At the mere sight of a cute girl. Skittles on the other hand is TERRIFIED of them. When asked, he simply blames his life growing up. Daisy doesn't really push the matter just thinks it's a little weird to be scared of every single cute girl (no offense to the not being afraid of her taken).
#my characters#like the entire thing with skittles is just he is SO boring looking and hes so scared of cute girls#and daisy thinks its REALLY FUNNY dude why are you scared of them haha girls are GREAT#and then she meets his younger sister and is like oh dang dude she is ADORABLE and she sees him practically shaking and sweating#surely its not THAT bad but ah no wait#two days pass and daisy is like oh my god shes horrifying ????? what the hell?#and growing up with her and trying to be a good big brother is all fine and dandy until the cute lil sister gets him hurt a lot#like hospital injuries from either protecting her or just .... somehow wrong place with her at the wrong times all the time#so he gets a fear of cute girls bc his lil sister is a cute monster who is the reason most of his limbs have been broken in the past#like broken leg ? that was from amelia and a stair case#the broken arm ? trying to help amelia get something out of a tree#the broken wrist ? catching amelia falling out of a tree#the other broken leg ? amelia -#the list goes on and on and he also got into multiple fights trying to keep her safe from guys#bc she really is just a cute lil innocent looking girl but shes a schemer and it does come back to bite her#except for she has a good big bro who took the repercussions when he could#daisy just watching her partner pale and shake and sweat when hes in the same room as his sister and daisy feels so bad for him#like hes really going through it even after all these years#but meeting amelia puts a lot into perspective for when daisy and skittles are out and about#cause hes very efficient and chill talking to dudes and to mature looking women#then he turns into a bundle of nerves at wide eyed innocence and daisy is like yeah ok i gotta#i gotta be a lil less gay for his sake only if hes around cause i cant make him talk to his biggest fear thats mean#shes still really gay but yeah it works out and she looks out for him and in turn he looks out for her and its great!#they become friends! yeehaw!#lil trivia is she was a drama kid in hs and he was on the baseball team but never really played or put effort into it#she was a straight a student and he very consciously maintained a c average through calculating grades and missing stuff on tests on purpos#anyway thank u if you read all the tags or even ty if you read just hte post itself#im sorry for ocing on main when its my own ocs#ill be back tomorrow with .... idk what
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genderdog · 4 months
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every time i listen to ugly death no redemption i go fucking insane about ice the last generation again
#sucks bc it’s one of my favorite albums lmao#for those who don’t know. ice is a really shitty post apocalyptic yuri ova#it’s made by the creator of the zeta gundam not like tomino but the mech designer#it’s also really anti men like there’s no men they all died and it’s between the two factions of like militant science and fuck it we ball#and the fuck it we ball people just have gay sex and do drugs#the militant one also has gay sex but only the leader and she has like slaves for it????#also the leader of the fuck it we ball one is part jellyfish bc her mom did genetic experiments on her to figure out how to make children#without cock#that’s one of my favorite parts of it the one scene where that’s discussed is really cool#there’s a weird age gap between the two love interests though i think they’re both adults????#but one of them was like at least in her twenties when the other one was being born??????#it makes me really uncomfortable which is why i haven’t gotten super into it otherwise i think i would go insane#also there’s some weird time travel esque stuff at the end and i think it might be implied that the love interest gave birth to her partner#through virgin birth like jesus style#before any of the plot even happened#or maybe the love interest is just there when she’s giving birth???? she dies in the main timeline and then her object that she gave her#partner is in the hospital room (in the past)#but also the person giving birth is technically different than the love interest bc all we know is that she has been hallucinating this lady#bc she hasn’t slept in literal years#and that’s the lady giving birth in the past and she might be the love interest and she might be giving birth to her partner#fucking insane shit there are parts that really interest me and i want to take for my own projects and stuff#do not recommend it at all but also i kinda do but like dont go into it seriously go into it to see a weird as fuck shit show#anyways ugly death no redemption uses a lot of samples from it!!!!!!#oh yeah humans have also evolved to only be able to eat processed foods and if animals eat it they turn into flowers that’s a cool scene too
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peachesofteal · 15 days
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader 18+ mdni, these two and their usual kinks, mention/discussion of pregnancy, Simon in his BDU so... you know.
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You have a stage five clinger.
That's the only way to describe Simon lately. He's your shadow. The only time he separates himself from you is to take care of the baby, and even then, he's usually always in sight line.
Most people would feel smothered. Annoyed. Fed up, probably. You would have too, with past partners. But for some reason, with him, the irritation doesn't exist. He's working through something in his mind. Repairing something. Healing something. Even though the day in the hospital is long buried, you know it still sticks with him, the evidence clear in the way he still treads carefully, still handles you gently in bed.
The attention, the devotion, doesn't bother you. The need to reassure him drives you into his arms as often as possible, and when he holds on longer than usual, you never pull away.
The last day in your apartment is bittersweet. Mostly packed up, only the skeleton remains, a shell of what was once your home. You expected to feel sad, mournful, as you sweep up the dust in the living room, but your emotions are conflicted, a turbulent sea of satisfaction and already growing nostalgia. You're ready to turn the tide, move forward, while still appreciating the place you became a mother.
You're grateful to Gaz and Cami for taking Orion all day. They're at home, no doubt spoiling him rotten, while you try to wrangle dust bunnies and cleaning the oven. You get lost in the chore of trying to clean up, distracted enough you don't hear the door click.
When heavy footsteps sound in the entryway, you turn.
And lose your breath.
He's in the uniform again. The more formal one, the one that Price makes him wear for meetings. It fits him like a glove, snug in all the right places, and there's no denying what it does to you.
You're already wet. Just staring at him.
He smirks. "Alright?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm just... I'm almost done." You gesture uselessly around the kitchen, half pointing to the oven door, eyes still trained on him, sweeping up and down, over and over.
He steps closer, head cocked, leaning into your space just enough your body instinctively closes the gap. "See something you like honey?"
"Y-yeah."
"Gon' tell me what it is?"
"You look good, in the uniform." You clear your throat. "I... I like it." Your hand unfurls, palm flat, and he tugs on it, folding it over the hard bulge in his pants.
One moment, you're looking up at him and the next you're being spun around, back to his chest, thick fingers plunging into the waistband to tug your panties aside. He groans, stroking over your clit. "You're bloody soaked f'me."
"For you." Is all you can manage, voice twisted into a whisper, and he rips your pants down to your feet, lifting them out to kick your legs wide.
"Hands on the counter," he presses you forward until you're nearly at ninety degrees, cool air ghosting over where you're exposed, slick and swollen. "There we go, jus' like that." He grips fistfuls of your hips, your ass, and then tugs at his zipper, its echo instinctively rising you up onto your toes. He's still in his uniform, completely dressed, and you stare at him over your shoulder, legs trembling, soaking it in. You think you might be drooling. Blunt pressure notches at your pussy, the crown of his cock working its way forward before he slams the rest in, your scream pinging through the empty flat. "Fuck."
"Simon- ah,"
"I know, sweet girl, I know. You can take it, pussy looks so good stretched around me." He's teasing, in control though the clench of his jaw hissing through his teeth is clear, hips snapping over and over, rocking inside you. His lips graze your temple, breath hot on your cheek. "I want you to stop taking your birth control." You shudder, clenching around him. "We're ready, mama. You're ready. Let's," He shoves deep, deep enough you turn to liquid, body bending to accommodate, "have another baby." The rough fabric of his uniform pants scrape against your ass, brush and burn delicious with a bite, and you moan.
The mind has a funny way of erasing the memories of birth. Oxytocin is a finicky trick, the halo effect obliterating trauma and replacing it with joy. You can't say no. You don't want to say no, and the idea giving Orion a sibling, holding another sweet, squirmy baby in your arms, one with Simon's eyes, detonates in your heart, flutters spreading all the way through to your fingers and toes. Your spine arches, hips flexing back towards his own, and he chuckles-
before pulling out and flipping you over, hoisting you up onto the counter with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your eyes roll backwards as he slides home again, pinching your jaw between thumb and forefinger. He looks at you expectantly. Waiting.
The agreement sears on your tongue, incendiary heat forcing its way through your lips. "O-Okay."
"Say it." He thrusts, rubbing your clit at the same time, rolling you close to the edge. "Say yes daddy like a good girl."
"Yes, daddy." His nose touches yours. For a moment, you're both suspended, pupils dilated, sharing the same breath, the same DNA, the same blood. He slows down, and you squirm. "No, no don't stop- p-please-"
"'Say yes daddy, I want another baby' and I'll make you come mama. Tell me." He licks your cheek. You're barely hanging on, holding the front of his uniform. He teases your clit again, working it slowly, and you whine.
"Yes daddy, I want... I want another baby." It's enough. Enough for a dark glint to spark across his eyes, the same glimmer you see from time to time, the possession, the instinct, deep rooted desires.
It sends you into orbit, head tipping back, his teeth on your neck, the two of you coming together and riding through the wave until it's over, and he tucks you into his chest, cock still seated deep.
"I love you." He murmurs. "I'm gonna take care of you this time. I'm gonna be here." You don't ask about the what ifs, what will happen when he's away, what if he misses it. You just bask in the warmth of the moment, and sigh.
"I love you too."
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smileysuh · 28 days
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dark protector
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🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k
🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…
☀️ mlist + an.  The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)
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Prologue
It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.
You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.
After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.
“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”
Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.
“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”
You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.
Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck. 
You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.
Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.
An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.
You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’
Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further. 
“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”
You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.
However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf -  is a pretty common tattoo. 
“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?” 
This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.
You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.
When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.
The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.
You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”
“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”
You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.
You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.
There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters. 
When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head. 
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One:
“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.
“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”
“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”
“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”
“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”
“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.
The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.
It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.
There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”
“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”
“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”
“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams. 
“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.
“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.
“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?” 
You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.
“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.
“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”
“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs. 
“So is this tattoo consult for you?”
Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.” 
“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”
“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos. 
“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”
Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.
“That’s me,” your best friend beams.
“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.
He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks. 
Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into. 
You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.
You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.
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Two: 
You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.
You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard. 
The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.
“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.
It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.
While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”
“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”
Must have grazed him… with a knife?
“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.
“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.
“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.
The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”
He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”
You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders. 
“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.
Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.
It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.
“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.
“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk. 
The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape. 
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.
You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”
“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.
“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”
“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”
“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.
“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”
Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”
Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.
“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”
“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.
“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”
You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.
“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.
“Not drinking?”
“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you. 
Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”
“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.
“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.
You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.
“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.
“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses. 
“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition. 
Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion. 
“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.
“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.
You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.
The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.
“Who was that?!” one asks.
“He was hot!” another friend notes.
“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”
“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”
“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”
“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”
“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.
“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”
“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.
“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”
“What?!” 
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.
“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.
“Yeah.”
You sit back, thinking about it.
Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.
You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.
Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence. 
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Three:
You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.
You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.
Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”
“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”
You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”
“Yeah, you.”
“Hi, Seungcheol.”
“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”
“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”
“I just didn’t,” he says simply.
“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.
“One sec.”
You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.
You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”
“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.
“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.
Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.
“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”
The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”
Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response. 
“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”
“Oh… are you at work now?”
“Uh huh.”
“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.
“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”
“You should just go home after work.”
“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.
Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”
“See you in an hour.”
You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”
“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”
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Four:
You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.
Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car. 
“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”
“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.
You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.
“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.
“Uh huh, is that a problem?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”
Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.
You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.
“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”
“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.
You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.
Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.
“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.” 
“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.
“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.
“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze. 
“What about me?” he counters.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”
“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder. 
Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.
“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”
“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.
“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.
“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.
“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”
This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.
“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”
“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”
And just like that, he’s closing up again.
You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound. 
“All done,” you announce.
Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”
“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”
So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.
It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.
You just want to figure him out.
“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia. 
“No.”
“Are you scared?”
“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.
“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”
You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways. 
“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”
He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.
“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.
Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on. 
You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat. 
Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”
You nod.
He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about? 
You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-
You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.
You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.
You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.
You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.
“How was it?” he asks.
“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.
Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”
You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.
“You good?”
“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”
You nod. “Fuck that guy.”
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Five:
You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.
“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”
There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.
You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.
It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table. 
You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.
The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get. 
You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate. 
Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.
Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?
Are you ready for a new relationship?
You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-
Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.
But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?
Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?
The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.
Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.
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Six:
“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.
“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”
“Is that good or bad?” 
You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”
“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”
You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”
Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”
Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday. 
“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.
You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.
Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.
“Doing okay.”
“And your shoulder?”
“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”
“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.
“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.
Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.
“We could do that,” you respond.
“Sounds good, when are you free?”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“How do you feel about eight o’clock?” 
“That works,” you nod.
“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”
You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”
“It’s a date. See you then.”
“Bye, Cheol.”
Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.” 
“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.
“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”
“That’s a good sign,” you insist.
“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”
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Seven:
You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.
He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”
You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”
“Me too.”
Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.
“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”
You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.
“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.
“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.
You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?” 
“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”
“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”
“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”
“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”
You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?” 
Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”
“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”
“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”
“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.” 
“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”
You nod. “A hundred percent.”
“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.
“I thought so.”
“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”
It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.
It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.
Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.
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Eight: 
Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head. 
He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.
Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.
He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker. 
It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.
“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.
“Just thinking.”
“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s. 
Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways. 
“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”
Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.
“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.
“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder. 
As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”
He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”
Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”
“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”
“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”
He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”
“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”
He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person. 
“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”
“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell. 
“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”
“I will, bye, Cheol.”
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Nine:
You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.
You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“It’s been a while,” your ex states.
You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.
You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.
“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic. 
“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”
Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.
Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”
“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.
“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”
He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.
“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”
You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex. 
“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”
It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I-”
Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.
“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-
“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”
“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”
“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”
Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.
“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”
She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.
Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”
You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”
“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug. 
You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.
“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.
“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.
“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.
You nod, pointing to your forearm. 
“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.
“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”
You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.
“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.
Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”
“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.
“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”
Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-
“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”
Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.
“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.
“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.
“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”
“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.
“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.
“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”
“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”
You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”
You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.
As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.
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Ten:
“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”
“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.
“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.
“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.
“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.
In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”
Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.
“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.
“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 
You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.
“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.
You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.
He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.
You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up. 
You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently. 
The bike roars to life and you take off.
It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky. 
You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time. 
You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.
He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.
“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.
You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.
Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.” 
“Thank you.”
You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.
Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.
You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”
“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 
“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”
“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.” 
You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table. 
“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.
“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.
It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal- 
It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”
You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.
Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.
With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.
It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss. 
Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides. 
After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily. 
“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.
He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”
“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.
“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”
You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a Leo,” you say again.
“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”
“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything. 
You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.
“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.
“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.
“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”
“And they said Leo,” he breathes.
You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”
“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.
“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”
“She really said that?” you ask.
“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”
Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.
Even so, something about this feels so right.
You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”
“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.
“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.
Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.
You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.
Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.
With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”
“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.” 
“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.
You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”
He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”
“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.
Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.
You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.
You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.
You want this. 
You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm. 
Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”
He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”
Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”
“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”
He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”
You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”
“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”
Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.
“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.
“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.
“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”
Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.
He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.
He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.
“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.
You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue. 
“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”
You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.
“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.
When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.
You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.
“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”
You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.
“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation. 
“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”
You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”
His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”
You grin, returning to your task. 
Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be. 
“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”
“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.
“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.
Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.
The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.
“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.
You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.
“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.
“Yeah?”
“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”
“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.
Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.
But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.
Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.
Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.
He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.
The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.
“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”
Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.
You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps. 
You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.
Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.
With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.
Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”
“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.
“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly. 
“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.
Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.
“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.
“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.
Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.
He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”
Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.
He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.
No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation. 
“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.
He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.
You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.
“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”
He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.
“Just like that,” you whimper.
He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.
Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.
You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.
Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.
Sex should always be like this, you realize.
There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial. 
Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.
“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.
His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.
Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean. 
“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.
“More than anything,” you smile.
A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.
You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.
You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.
You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.
You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.
Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.” 
“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.
“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.
You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.
The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.
Nothing has ever felt this right.
Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.
His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.
Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.
“Cheol-”
“Yes, baby?” he asks.
“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”
“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”
Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.
Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.
His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.
“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”
It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts. 
Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.
When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.
“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.
“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.
Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.
You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.
“Fuck-” you moan.
“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”
“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder. 
“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.
“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”
You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.
“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”
“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace  to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.
His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.
“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”
For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,
“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”
You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”
He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-
“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”
You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.
Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.
You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.
Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.
His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.
You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.
Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”
You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-
“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears. 
You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one. 
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here
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🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.
cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
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 bonus
It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.
Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.
While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.
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seijorhi · 1 month
Text
Violent Delights
for my very dearest best friend (wife) @iwaasfairy i'm sorry it's super late, but august and april both start with 'a' which basically means they're the same month <33 iwaizumi hajime x female reader w.c 4.4k tw: yandere themes, non-con, drugged reader, blood/gore, murder, incest, sorta smut (nsfw)
M I N E
It’s funny in a way. Amidst the wreckage, the blood, what was left of your friends and the cooling puddle of cum splattered across your naked stomach, four letters carved into your bedroom wall seemed almost… harmless. Or at least the easiest to digest. Fixate on.
The detective asked about your ex partners, the dates you’d been on recently, whether or not you’d noticed anyone in your day-to-day paying you too much attention, if anyone made you feel uncomfortable, or said anything that seemed out of place.
But your exes don’t care enough to kill, and the two dates you’ve been on in the last six months never bothered to text you back. No one’s left weird, unsettling gifts, or stared too long in line at the coffee shop. There’s nothing. No precursor or warning, no giant red flag waving in front of you.
Mine. 
Hovering on the edge of numbness, blind hysteria just out of reach, you stare at the beige walls of the hotel room they’d put you up in, the angry gouges flickering in and out of existence with every blink. 
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Kaori was the one obsessed with all the true crime stuff. She’d be the first to tell you psychopaths and nutjobs – they don’t jump straight into drugging and triple homicide. There’s a pattern of behaviour. Escalation. 
Something you missed. 
Then again, considering it’s her blood still caked under your fingernails, there’s a strong possibility she wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about the whole thing to begin with. 
You need a shower, a proper one – not the glorified sponging off they’d given you at the hospital. Enough to get you out the door, not nearly enough to scrub away the grime and rid yourself of what he did to you–
The others had it worse. You survived. He barely touched you.
Mine. 
The thought of scalding water, of scrubbing yourself raw does hold a certain appeal, yet hunched over atop starched white sheets, those same bloody fingernails sink into the flesh of your arms instead, grounding you in the tiny bite of pain. 
Minutes tick past and you don’t so much as twitch. Not until a sharp knock sounds at the door and a gruff voice calls out your name. 
You wait half a beat, but when nothing more is forthcoming, you slowly edge yourself off the bed, making your way to the door. Through the peephole you spy a dark haired officer, different to the one who’d dropped you off, staring back at you. 
They did tell you there’d be an officer with you the whole time, at least for the next twenty four hours. 
“Miss?” he calls again, and you distantly realise that while your hand is poised over the deadlock, you haven’t moved to undo it. 
Squeezing your eyes shut, your forehead meeting the wooden door with a muted thud, you curse that stupid, tremulous fluttering in your chest. They’re here for you, protecting you. You’re safe.
Open the damn door. 
“Y-yeah?”
Coward.
“Brought some food for you. Dinner.” There’s a rustling on the other side, and you raise your head to peer back through the glass in time to see him lift up a paper carry bag to the peephole. The idea of eating anything right now has your stomach roiling in protest. “Nothing fancy, but it’s good, I swear,” he says. Then, gentler, like he’s talking down a spooked animal, adds, “You need to eat.”
Still, you hesitate. All you need to do is open the door, grab the food and then at least it’s there if you want it later. Easy. 
Too quick, too jerky to be natural, you twist at the handle and yank the door open a scant few inches, enough for you to reach out an arm expectantly for the food. “Thank you,” you pre-empt, because hungry or not, you’re not completely without manners.
The officer lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. I’m not taking heat from the Cap when the guys on the next shift find you passed out ‘cause you haven’t eaten anything,” he scoffs. “C’mon, we can talk while you eat.” Not a suggestion – you barely have time to stumble back before he’s pushing his way inside and kicking the door closed behind him. The second he takes to flick the lock somehow simultaneously eases the knots in your stomach and sends your heartrate ratcheting.
It’s halfway to a miracle that you’re still standing at all. 
“Eat,” he tells you, his deep voice brooking no disagreement as he shoves the bag of food your way and grabs the lone chair in the room, dragging it closer to the edge of the bed and settling himself down. Clearly he has no intention of going anywhere until he’s satisfied you’ve eaten your fill.
With little else for it, you do as you’re told, reaching into the bag to find steamed buns at your fingertips, still warm as you pry open the wrapper– and wince. The familiar scent of pork, ginger and chives wafts through the air, unwittingly digging at old wounds. 
Suddenly you’re a kid again, strolling down the hill with your family, one hand tucked safely within your brother’s, the other grasping a steaming hot bun. You’re happy and whole and so, so young–
“Something wrong? You don’t like meat buns?” 
Not the time. Ignoring the bitter ache the memory conjures, you’re quick to shake your head, “No. No, thank you. It’s great.” You doubt he buys it, but then again you also doubt he cares so long as you get something in your stomach. 
One bite, chew, swallow. Another, chew, swallow – mechanical until it isn’t. The first bun disappears and you reach for the second.
“How’s your head?” he asks.
You swallow down another mouthful. “Fuzzy. Sore. I still can’t remember anything,” you  admit, in case that’s where this line of questioning is going. Nothing beyond waking up in your bed covered in blood and a stranger’s cum at any rate.
The blood work they did at the hospital confirmed you were drugged along with the others, the detective mentioning the near-empty bottle of wine they’d found, which they were in the process of testing too. He’d also pointed out the lack of evidence indicating any kind of forced entry, which paired with the former is something you’ve been trying not to dwell on. 
The officer gives a considering nod, “That’s to be expected, don’t worry about it. I still think it’s worth asking a few more questions if you’re feeling up to it?” Again, it’s phrased like a question, but already he’s pulling out a voice recorder, setting down on the mattress between you. 
“Um, sure. Yeah,” you croak. 
A small smile, “Good.” He leans forward to switch on the recorder. “We’ll start with the other victims – your friends. Tell me about them.”
“Kaori, she’s– she was my best friend. We worked at the same grocer when I first moved out of my parents’ place, when I got a job here she made the decision to move with me. That was about six months ago.” 
“And the other two?” 
“Her brother Koji and another friend of ours Takashi. They came up to visit; Kaori’s been back once or twice since we left, but I hadn’t seen them–” tears blur at your vision and your voice just… gives out. 
They’re gone. 
You drag a shuddering breath in and it hurts. 
Blindly, your hand reaches across the bed, blood tipped fingers sprawling over pristine white, and when they meet warmth – an open palm outstretched – you seize it and cling on with everything you have. You’ll unravel if you don’t.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you chant, each syllable shakier than the last.
He dips his chin, just barely, and squeezes your hand, “You invited them?”
A wordless, wide eyed nod. 
“You were close.” Not a question. He sounds like he’s mulling over the thought, though his expression is inscrutable. “Were you involved with any of them?”
This time, there’s the slightest hesitation before you shake your head. The officer frowns, “I need the truth. Your friends were attacked for a reason. Lying to me won’t help bring their families peace.”
The blood drains from your face, your heart lurching on a sickening thud. 
Your fault. 
Instinctively, you yank back your hand, or try to at least, but his grip tightens – enough to keep you from drawing away, not enough to hurt. Though neither his tone nor his expression hold any condemnation, it doesn’t change the truth of the matter. 
You didn’t drug them or pick up the knife and swing. You didn’t invite this psycho into your life, but the fact remains that they’re dead because of you. 
“I– it wasn’t like that. We weren’t… I didn’t–” 
MINE.
Tears threaten to spill and your bottom lip trembles. 
For a long, drawn out moment, he simply stares. There’s a twitch at his jaw and he sighs – more of a grunt, really – leaning back and pulling his hand from yours to rake through his dark hair. 
(Stupid, you think, how some part of you mourns the loss.) 
“Okay, alright. Fine. We’ll come back to that,” he concedes. “What about other friends? Coworkers you were close with?”
“No, I– I already told the detective I wasn’t seeing anyone.”
An irritated flash darkens his gaze. “I didn’t ask if you were fucking them.” And you must make a truly pathetic picture then, flinching like a kicked puppy, because he lets out another huff, closing his eyes for a beat and visibly working to soften the harsh lines of his expression. “Shit, okay– I’m sorry. It’s been a long day for us both,” he makes an odd noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, the sound entirely devoid of humour. “The guy who did this, he either already knows about the people precious to you, or he’s gonna do his damn best to find out, and if he thinks they’re threats, he’ll hurt them, or worse – he’ll use them to hurt you. I need you to tell me everything.”
And so, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping over you, you do.
You tell him about the small group from work you occasionally go out for Friday drinks with, your old friends from uni, right down to the neighbour two floors below, who’d seen you hauling boxes the day you’d moved in and immediately offered to help. When you’d christened the kitchen baking you’d made sure to bring him some, and just last week you’d had tea with him and his grandma.
“What about school? Anyone you still keep in contact with?”
You try for a laugh but it sounds all wrong. “I wasn’t exactly popular back then,” 
His eyes narrow. They flit across your face like he’s searching for… something. You feel like a bug, pinned in place, squirming and uncomfortable, your face too hot. 
“Bullied?” he probes. 
Another nod. 
“How ‘bout family?”
Your mouth dries.
“My parents… I haven’t spoken to them in months. We don’t really get along.” The last conversation you’d had with them, if you could call it as much, lasted all of five minutes. Dry pleasantries and thinly veiled criticisms, wrapped up in yet another pointed reminder that things didn’t have to be this way – you were the one adamant on shutting them out. 
You doubt it’d raise a single eyebrow between them if you went the same again without contact. 
“Siblings?”
Another tear slips from your lashes and you swallow against the tight lump in your throat. The weight of his gaze feels oppressive, you’re too bare, too vulnerable, you don’t want to talk about this, so you shift your line of sight to the paper delivery bag, half crumpled now, and let your fingernails sink into the skin of your palms. 
Still, the words don’t come straight away, and when they do, they’re strained. Choked. Painted so thick is grief that you wonder if he understands them at all.
“No. I uh, I had a brother– a twin brother. He died.” 
You don’t talk about your brother, ever.
Kaori knew the bare bones of it. Koji and Takashi too – you had a twin brother, he died, and it fucked you up. Without ever uttering a word, they’d known not to press, that the wounds left behind weren’t quite as healed as the scar tissue led to believe. 
“How old were you?”
Seven, when you lost him. Twelve, when the letters stopped coming. 
“Fourteen,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. “He was sick.”
Stop asking, stop talking, stop, stop, stop. 
When you risk a look in the officer’s direction, his features are hewn granite, eyes set in a hard, angry glare that steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” he grunts, rising to his feet. “You stopped writing long before that.”
There’s just enough time for understanding to crash over you, for your lips to part, a feather light gasp of “Hajime?” to slip out before you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned to the mattress above your head, the officer– a ghost– Hajime looming over you. 
“What did I fucking tell you?”  
‘Sweetie, make sure you hold your brother’s hand.’
They’d meant when you were walking home from the bus stop, or crossing the road. When there was a buddy system so no one got separated or left behind. 
Hajime was always holding your hand. Not because your parents told him to, but because that’s how it was supposed to be. You were twins, he’d been born first (by all of six minutes) and you had followed. You were always following Hajime, and he was always going to look after you. 
Until he gets put into the Otter class with Mr Inagaki, and you go into Dugong with Miss Ino. 
Hajime’s nothing short of enraged. He throws chairs and yells and tries to kick the Principal, but it doesn’t change anything.
It would be good for you, they said, to have a chance to make other friends. ‘You can’t keep using your brother as a crutch, honey,’ your mother gently admonishes. 
Hajime scowls at that. Later, when it’s just the two of you hiding away in his room, he tells you she’s an idiot and a liar. ‘You don’t need anyone else. You have me.’
You knew that. You’d always have Hajime, but the other kids in your class weren’t as awful as he made them sound. Some of them were actually kind of cool, and they liked you, too.
For a while, you began to believe you could have both; Hajime and your new friends. 
Until one day you’re waiting for him at lunch when a boy from your class tugs on your braids and with a wide, toothy grin, loudly proclaims to the whole playground that even though you were a girl, and girls have cooties, it’d probably be okay if you wanted to be his girlfriend. 
You didn’t see Hajime coming up behind you. You’ve no idea where he found the scissors. The only warning either of you get is a sudden, splitting roar before he’s throwing himself at the smaller boy, tackling him to the ground. 
‘She’s MINE!’
Silver glints, flashing in the sunlight, and a high pitched shriek rips through the playground as he brings the scissors down on the poor, struggling boy. 
With a viciousness you’d never known of your brother, he swings again and again. It’s chaos. The other kids scatter and the teachers run to intervene. Hajime, spitting and snarling, red in the face and half-feral, doesn’t stop for them.
He stops for you. 
At the sound of a sharp little gasp, a line of red slashed along your forearm, Hajime stops dead, wide, horrified eyes fixed on yours.
‘Sweetie, what have I told you about snooping? I raised you better than that.’
‘But they’re addressed to me. Hajime wrote to me.’
‘Your brother’s not well, those letters– they’ll only upset you. I don’t want you reading them.’
‘… He says he misses me.’
‘I know, but he’s where he belongs, getting help. You want that for him, don’t you? To get the help he needs?’
‘I want to write back to him.’
There’s another letter waiting for you when you get home from school.
You hang your backpack near the door, still damp from being tossed in the pool, and eye the opened envelope sitting by your father. He doesn’t look up from his laptop when you reach for it, doesn’t lift a finger to stop you. Nevertheless, the displeasure radiates from him clear as day. 
“You shouldn’t encourage him. He’s not well.”
You’d scoff if it wouldn’t get you in trouble. Nothing you said could ever be taken as ‘encouragement’, and you’re under no illusions about who and what your brother is. 
The violence terrifies you. Sometimes he says things in the letters he writes that make your stomach all twisty and your palms sweat, but Hajime could be a monster, and you think you’d love him anyway. You wouldn’t have a choice. 
So you pluck at the envelope and tuck it close, making your way to your room without another glance at either of your parents. Sitting cross legged atop your bed, you eagerly scan the contents;
He hates the new therapist. They had a movie night planned, but some asshole started a fight and the whole thing got cancelled. The food’s still shit. He’s fed up and pissed off, whether he behaves or not, they won’t let him out and they won’t give him what he wants, so what’s the point in pretending?
The both of you turn twelve in ten days time – you owe it to him to come spend it together. 
‘Maybe it’s for the best, sweetheart.’
Dismissive. She’s always dismissive. Your hands curl in response, tightening before you force yourself to flex them out and bite your tongue. It’s not worth the fight. Neither one of them actually care, and nothing you say will ever change that. 
He’s angry at you. Or hurt. Both, probably. 
They wouldn’t let you visit. You’d begged – cried, even – and it hadn’t swayed them. The rules are that you aren’t allowed to go and see Hajime and you aren’t allowed to talk to him on the phone. The letters are the only communication you have, and when your twelfth birthday comes and goes, those stop too.
You’ve sent four letters since, no response. 
He’s shut you out entirely and while you can’t blame him for it, it’s painful.
You’ve always had Hajime, through everything. Him shutting you out feels like losing a limb– 
No, it’s more than that. It’s like slowly losing some vital function inside of you. Like your lungs are shutting down and you can’t breathe properly and your heart isn’t pumping the way it should. You feel guilty and horrible and at least twice, you debate trying to find a way to sneak out and make the two hour journey on your own, just so you can see him.
It’s a stupid idea, they wouldn’t even let you through the front door, but it’s the only idea you have and so you cling to it.
You keep writing to him– panicked. Desperate. Begging his forgiveness. 
He never writes back.
They sit you down at breakfast three months after your fourteenth birthday and tell you Hajime’s gone.
There was another fight, someone pushed him–
You don’t want to hear the details. They don’t matter and your ears are ringing too loud to make sense of them anyway.
Hajime is gone.
The cord between you was stretched and fraying already. He hadn’t written in over two years and probably hated you towards the end but he– he was–
Yours. A part of you. 
Gone.
And your mother’s asking about the English test you have second period. 
“What. Did. I. Say?” Each word is slowly enunciated, a quiet growl that drags an unwilling shiver down your spine. 
He smells of wood – of cedar, spice and musk, the notes melding, coiling with the dizzying body heat, the solid weight of him, bracing himself above you.
His lips are mere inches from yours. 
Not dead. 
Here.
There’s a thousand thoughts racing through your head, connections that light up, clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle, painting a deeply unsettling picture – all of which are drowned out by the revelation that Hajime is here.
You burst into tears–
and Hajime – your brother, very much alive and glaring at you from above – surges down to swallow them in a vicious kiss.
The moment your lips touch, all the tension in his body just… bleeds out. Hajime groans, low and heated, his hips rocking, grinding along your stomach, and if you weren’t too preoccupied short circuiting, dangling on the precipice of a panic attack, you’d feel the twitch of his mouth, curling into a small but no less satisfied smirk.
He relaxes, like he’s coming home rather than returning from the dead to land the killing blow.
“Mine,” he answers his own question, breath heavy and ragged as his teeth nip at your jaw. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”
The scratches on the wall. Kaori and Koji and Takashi, asleep in a sea of red. The viscous mess spilled over your belly. Your mother’s hushed voice, carrying down the hallway, ‘– only a phase. The books all say he’ll grow out of it before long.’
She hadn’t sounded convinced. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to block it all out as more tears spill into your hairline. Hajime won’t let you. He groans your name into the shell of your ear and licks at the tears as they fall. “Don’t,” he warns, fingers pressing tightly around your wrists ‘til they shoot back open with a gasp, “don’t you dare check out.”
When he rucks up your shirt to find you sans bra and a warm palm slides up to grope the soft, supple skin, a fresh burst of panic spurs you into action. Pinned under his weight as you are, you can’t move, and the idea of trying to physically fight him off is as laughable as it is terrifying – but when you were younger, you were the one – the only one – who could coax Hajime back from the edge, your hand in his.
Until he leapt from it entirely, and they took him away.
“H-Hajime?” A trembling, hiccuping whimper, thick with tears.  
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even pause – shuffling down your body to mouth at them instead – but hooded, simmering pools of green flick back up to your face, a hum of acknowledgement rumbling in his chest as he nips and sucks pretty, burgundy blooms across your breasts.
“I-if you ever loved me, even a little… Please, Haji– don’t hurt me like this–” you choke on another sob, pathetic mess that you are.
Hajime goes preternaturally still, eyes boring into you. 
You stare right back, fighting the urge to cower and flinch, to turn your cheek and stare at the discarded dumpling wrappers, letting him take what he wants. Praying that he won’t hurt you too badly if you give it to him without a fight.
Because it will hurt, you think. It’ll break you entirely. 
(Are you not already broken?)
When his head drops, you can’t help it – the sharp, terrified hitch in your breath – but his lips meet your forehead, then each cheek, before finally they brush over your lips with a tenderness he has no right to. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he vows, cradling the side of your jaw, “I won’t hurt you, ever.”
But that’s a lie, too.
“I love you more than anything.”
He kisses you again, soft and sweet and gentle, as if those promises weren’t sewn from violence and legitimised in blood. As if he isn’t breaking your heart with every sweep of his tongue, plundering your mouth.
There’s no fight in you left when he reaches for the waistband of your sweats and slowly starts easing them down. You don’t claw and shove when the hold on your wrists loosens and then disappears entirely, both hands needed to strip away his clothes. 
The sound of his belt buckle clinking, the soft hiss of a zipper, they wash over you, white noise lost to the pounding in your ears. 
But you don’t look away.
He strokes his cock – long and thick and flushed to the tip –  crawling up the mattress to kneel between your legs like a supplicant before an altar of the divine. 
Devotion demands sacrifice. 
“It killed me,” he starts, dragging the mushroom head along the slit of your pussy. He frowns a little, leans back and spits – a fat glob of saliva landing dead centre, adding to the mess his weeping cock’s already made. “When the letters stopped coming. I was angry, so fucking angry, all the time. I’d lash out and they’d put me in another cage, and I’d do it again, and again. They tried convincing me you’d moved on,” his eyes flash darkly, “which was bullshit. They’d have to carve me out of you with a knife.”
What shocks you isn’t the violent imagery, but the truth of it settling into your bones, inescapable and undeniable; you’ll always love your brother, even if that very love destroys you.
“I didn’t–”
The first thrust rips a strangled yelp from your throat. 
He’s too big, you’re not prepared to take him – and Hajime doesn’t care. His head tips back, shuddering out a breathy laugh. 
There’s no pause, no period of grace, seated deep inside of you, the walls of your pussy hugging him tight, Hajime won’t allow you a second to catch your breath and wait for the burning sting to abate. His hips draw back until only the throbbing head of his cock remains inside, and, upon grabbing a leg to hitch over his shoulder, uses it as leverage to punch forward, stuffing your tight little cunt to the brim.
The pace he sets is brutal from the outset. Bruising. He licks at your tears between kisses and moans when you clench and shudder around him. “Never again,” he pants into your ear. “I’ll kill them all if you leave. Every last fucking one. You’re mine. Mine.”
And you’d think it cruel, a punishment, if not for the way those green eyes burn. 
When his fingers twine with yours, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there, you wonder if this was always an inevitability. 
Hajime led and you followed, hand in bloody hand. 
He’d never allow anything less.
559 notes · View notes
anonymousicecream · 23 days
Text
Medical Check-Up (Jihyo x M Reader)
*Commission
"Jagi, I'm not feeling well recently. Can you take me to the doctor?" A woman asked her boyfriend, to which he replied, "Of course baby, let me change first."
(Timeskip to the hospital)
"Ms Park Jihyo!" The nurse shouted, to which the woman mentioned beforehand heard, and started walking towards the nurse. "Please follow me." The nurse requested and Jihyo followed the nurse to the doctor's room. "She's all yours sir." The nurse told you, making you turn around.
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"Please, take a seat." You instructed her, which she immediately does. At the same time, you went over her medical files which was prepared by the nurse. "So, Ms Park Jihyo, what seems to be the issue here?" "Well, I have been feeling a bit sick these past few days" She said, before you stood up and walk towards her. "Please lay on the bed." You instructed her, preparing your stethoscope as she lay on the bed.
You walked towards her, before asking for her permission. "May I?" You ask her, and she nods to your words. You grabbed her wrist gently, before finding her pulse. You caressed them gently, and saw her close her eyes, looking as if she's trying to hold a groan. It didn't take long before you use your stethoscope and wore it, reaching under her dress, pressing various spots on her torso, feeling her organs.
While you do that, you moved your free hand under her dress, going through her thighs before resting them on her crotch. It didn't take long before you start caressing them softly, earning various responses from her.
You increased your pace, hearing her heart beating even faster. It didn't take long before you moved one finger under her panties, which made her grasp your hand. "W-wait, my husband's outside." Jihyo told you. "It's okay. The door's locked, and the room's soundproof. You can be as loud as you like." You told her, inserting your middle and ring finger under her panties, into her pussy.
"Mmmmhhhhh" You heard Jihyo groan, as you start curling your fingers deeper. You felt her pussy getting warmer and wetter, prompting you to start fingering her faster. At the same time, you removed your stethoscope and moved your other hands under her dress, fondling her tits. You heard her starting to release moans, making you smirk.
"Not so tough after all are you?" You teased her, making her roll her eyes. Seeing how hot she looks when she rolls her eyes, you fingered her even faster, making her roll her eyes even more. It didn't take long before ..... "I'm close." Jihyo told you. You then gave her a nod of approval, making her clench before she eventually came on your fingers.
You tried hard to continue fingering her as she squirts -- HARD -- but it didn't work as your fingers were pushed out of her pussy so you instead rubbed her tits and clit faster, helping her prolong her orgasm.
After she came down from her high, you stopped rubbing her and unbuckled your trousers, before lowering them as well as your boxers, exposing your hard cock. You saw Jihyo move into a semi-sitting position, watching, as you align your cock with her pussy.
"No protection?" Jihyo asked you. "Well Ms Park, it seems like your partner's sperm is infertile and is unable to reproduce. What if we help him do his part?" You asked her, earning a nod from her. You then pulled her over to the edge, aligning yourself as you thrust into her.
"Ahhhh" You heard Jihyo groan, as you felt her warmth and tightness, allowing her to adjust to your size before she gave you a nod of approval as you start thrusting in and out of her. You moved your hands onto her tits, pressing onto them as you caressed her tits while she lays on the bed, squirming and moaning, enjoying your big cock.
After a while, she moved herself into a sitting position, getting face to face with you. She wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned in for a kiss, which you replied to immediately. At the same time, you moved your hands onto her hips and down onto her thighs, before lifting her up, earning a shriek. You carried her over to your desk as you continued thrusting into her, before you set her down on her feet, pulling out of her and turning her around as you start fucking her from behind, still in a standing position.
"MMmmhhhhh so big daddyyyy!!!" Jihyo moaned as you thrust into her, and it didn't take long before she starts leaking her pre-cum, as well as getting her pussy tighter. "Cum. Just cum." You ordered her, earning a nod from her. You then moved your hands onto her tits and clit, rubbing them aggressively, matching your thrusts, as she came on your cock.
"NNNGGHHHH FUCKKK DADDY!!!!" Jihyo moaned -- LOUDLY -- as she came on your cock. You continued thrusting into her harder and faster, helping her prolong her orgasm as she continues cumming, even to the point where she starts shaking on your cock, which was the time where you decided to thrust one last time, hard and deep into her, resting inside her as she continues cumming, before dying down from her orgasm.
After she came down from her high, you pulled out of her and turned her around, lifting her up on the table, aligning yourself with her pussy again before she pushed you -- HARD -- making you stumble back and fell onto your chair. "What's the matter?" You ask her in a worried tone. "You helped me reach my climax. Now, I'll help you reach yours. While also helping me getting pregnant." She said teasingly, before she walked over and got onto you, getting on your lap as she lifts herself up, aligning her pussy with your cock before she lowers herself onto your cock.
"Fuck you're so warm, and tight." You groaned, seeing her smirk. It didn't take long before she starts riding you up and down, increasing her pace and lowering herself even more after each thrust. You moved your hands onto her hips, caressing her hips to relax herself as well as helping her stabilize her and control her pace.
It didn't take longer before she managed to bottom out, and as she was about to raise herself again, you held her down, earning a look from her. "Grind me." You told her, making her smirk as she starts grinding herself on your cock. After a few moments, you started throbbing, earning a look from her. "Cum daddy. Fill me up. Fill my pussy up with your baby batter." Jihyo teased you. You moved your mouth onto her tits, devouring them while her other tits were fondled with your hands and your hands aggressively rubbing her clit. She got louder after each grind and it didn't take long before she clenched her pussy again, as she came, this time not as hard, but warmer onto your cock.
You stopped sucking her and grabbed her face aggressively, putting your lips on hers, as you filled her pussy up. The two of you groaned, enjoying the feeling of cumming together, as if it's just the two of you. You rubbed her clit more, prolonging her orgasm, which in turn also prolonged yours, milking EVERYTHING out of your cock.
After you finished cumming, you pulled out of the kiss before lifting her off your cock and cleaning the two of you up, before helping her re-dress yourself. You then wrote your number onto a small piece of paper before giving it to her. "Text me. If you're pregnant, inform me immediately and make an appointment." You told her and she nodded, before leaving the room.
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barcaatthemoon · 19 days
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glass || alexia putellas x reader ||
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you and alexia get tired of having to be so careful around each other.
alexia knew that there was a lot mentally that went into having a partner like you. she had been your friend for years before the two of you made the decision to start a romantic relationship. you had always been a very emotional person, taking everything to heart even if it wasn't personal. alexia understood that there was a certain tact that had to be used whenever you hit a depressive episode.
for the most part, alexia had mastered how to take care of you when things got bad. she would have walked away from football completely for you, and almost had before. she had taken little breaks, only as much time as you'd allow her. now though, she was torn between doing what you wanted and what she felt was right.
everything that you were going through, alexia went through with you. if you were suffering in silence, then she sat there trying to figure out how to help you. you wanted her to move on, but she couldn't go forward without making sure that you were following her. it had caused quite a few fights, and was why alexia was currently losing her mind at her sister's while she waited for you to text her.
"alexia, you're going to pace a hole right through the floor," alba said, hopeful that her words would distract alexia a bit. "if you are so worried about (y/n), why don't you just go over there? it's your house too."
"she asked for some space, alba. i don't want to crowd her," alexia said. it was very decisive, and alba wished that alexia would have stuck with it. instead, the woman was up and pacing around again before she finally stormed off to get you. alba hadn't been a fan of having alexia there instead of with you, but you had actually asked for alexia to leave for the night. in alexia's mind, now that it was morning, she was free to come check on you.
it wasn't that alexia didn't trust you because there was nobody else in the world that she trusted more. alexia was just scared that you'd get reckless. most of the time when you hurt yourself, it was an accident. it was when you threw caution to the wind that alexia truly got scared.
"(y/n)? it's me, alexia. i'm here to get some things and see how you're doing!" alexia called out into the apartment. you smiled a little to yourself as you walked out of the kitchen. alexia's face dropped as she saw you holding a kitchen towel over your hand. "what happened?"
"it's fine, i was just trying to make something for breakfast. i was going to call you over, but i was never good at cutting the meat." you were far more relaxed about this than alexia was. she rushed over to inspect your cut as it flowed blood into the towel.
"i can't leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can i?" alexia sounded angry. every movement she made was overly aggressive as she dragged you to the bathroom to clean you up.
"alexia, i can take care of myself," you tried to tell her. you tried to break away from her, which snapped alexia out of whatever little mood she had been in. "it's fine. i mean, i'm fine, so it's okay. it was an accident, you'd know that if you had let me get a word in."
"it's not just this, but i am sorry. i reacted badly," alexia apologized. she leaned back against the sink as she watched you wrap your hand. "we should go to the hospital for that."
"it's just a cut. you opened it when you grabbed my wrist like that, give it a moment and it'll stop," you told her. alexia sighed as she tried to move towards you. you flinched away, and alexia swore that she felt her heart shatter in her chest. "i'm going to clean up in the kitchen. i'm not very hungry anymore."
"no, (y/n) wait! go in the living room, i'll make us breakfast," alexia offered. you wanted to just crawl into bed and forget about the world until training, but alexia wouldn't let that happen. you walked past her wordlessly and settled on the couch, watching from there as alexia moved around the kitchen to finish breakfast. it was pretty obvious to her what you had started, so with a bit of difficulty, alexia finished.
"it looks good, you didn't burn the eggs this time," you complimented. alexia turned slightly, just enough to hide her plate from you. truthfully, you could smell the bit of egg that had definitely burnt, but you didn't want to pick any fights with alexia. you didn't have the energy to argue anymore.
"i'm sorry that i got angry earlier. i want you to know that i wasn't mad at you, i was just scared. alba told me not to stay the night, that i should march my sorry ass back here and just stay in my office. i only came back here because i was scared when you hadn't said good morning. i tried to do things right by you, but instead, i fucked up. i'm mad at myself," alexia explained.
"i'm mad that you don't trust me anymore. maybe you never did, but you were better at hiding it then. now, it's like we're both trying to dance with broken glass all over the floor. you're graceful and agile, but i keep stomping on the pieces and making it worse."
"then let's be up front about it. we'll stop pretending that the glass isn't there. i get scared when you stop caring because what if something happens and you don't try to stop it? you could leave without me, but i couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." you glanced over at alexia, who was fully crying now. there had once been a time when you'd have burst into sympathetic tears, but now all you felt was guilt. you felt awful about yourself for scaring her like this, even if none of it was on purpose. "talk to me, please."
"i'll be more careful. it's not for myself right now, it's for you, but that's one hell of a reason to take care of myself. i'll go through the proper steps to try and get better. it's not fair after i've been like this to just ask you to trust me when i wouldn't trust myself. i made this mess, and i'm happy that you aren't going to make me clean it up by myself."
"thank you," alexia mumbled as she leaned over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. you settled back against the couch with one of her arms around your shoulders. alexia picked at her plate until you gave her half of yours and put in an order for delivery.
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bambikisss · 8 months
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My girl :: C.San
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BAMBIKISSS MAN OF THE YEAR WINNER : CHOI SAN
'Why would I make you one of my girls when you're my girl?'
📙: San always seemed to have a rotation of women around him at all times. He would attend various charity events with any women from the company he chose. If you were picked, you were labeled as one of San's girls. However, when you join his company, he knows that he no longer needs the others when he has you
⚠ : Talk about San's playboy past, unprotected sex, mentions of workplace annoyances
💕 : Unprotected sex (again, you should always wrap it up), sex in public locations, taking pictures, taking videos, other's listening, use of bondage (reader), oral (both receiving), biting, spitting, Choi San (yes, his own warning)
🎶: One of the girls - THE IDOL, House of Balloons - The Weekend (first part only), Candlelight - Sam Rui ft Grazy Grace, Language - Jiselle, It's you - Choi San, Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang
Bambi's notes: Hello my loves! I bring you Choi San like I've probably never written him before. Shout out to all the Wesslys out there, I'm sorry 💀 B/N = Best Friend's name.
🤍 TAGLIST:
@lovely-red2 @aloverga @megseungmin @sann1e @yunhowooyo @unlikelysublimekryptonite @jaehyunicecream @cosmic-w0lf
@duztbunni @legendarybatherringmonger @kurom2nsan @8xbygirl
@teez-the-time @atzz8 @chaotic-floral @dinossaurz @idfkeddieishot @vvnnn7 @vantediary @hschg69 Z@jennylychee
@dawn-iscozy @sunnyhokyu @sanhwalvr @staytiny816
@chillyambrrrr @acciocriativity
COMMENTS + REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED AND ENCOURAGED | ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY | buy me a coffee?
"Good evening, Y/N. I hope you have fun at the 20th Metropolitan Hospital Gala."
You thanked the valet, placing your car keys into the palm of the young man's hand before you began to make your way inside the seaside venue. You could feel the passerby's stares as you made your way to the bar, your own aura drawing everyone in. You didn't mind, though. But, this event was strictly business and not just a drink during a night out.
"A glass of red wine, please," you ordered, the female bartender immediately nodding before going to grab you your wine and a glass. You took the opportunity to look around the packed room, looking at the various women's dresses and how they all seemed to match their partner's ties and suits. You found it cute and smart; it was a silent way of telling everyone that the woman was taken and to not try anything. You gazed down at your own silk white dress that hugged you perfectly. Your date tonight ordered it to be tailored to fit you just right, making you feel like a goddess. You gently raised your wine glass to your lips as you scanned the room, looking at the fancy decor that surrounded the venue, showing off the wealth everyone in the room had.
Your eyes soon then fell on a group of men who hung by the double doors, as if they were bodyguards to a celebrity. You noticed the various patterns on their ties, remembering that none of the women who were in the event wore anything to match them. 'They must be here without a date' you thought, taking another sip of your wine as you decided to move your eyes away from the group before they got any ideas. This was a business event, not speed dating.
However, one of the guys decided to try his luck anyway, approaching you wearing a blue and red striped tie and a confident smirk on his lips. He stood next to you at the bar, looking around the room with you in silence for a moment before saying "What's a pretty woman like you doing all alone like this?"
Of course that was the first thing that came out of his mouth. "What, can't a woman enjoy some wine and look around by herself?" You asked, choosing to entertain him until your date arrived. It gave you something to do rather than people-watch. The blue and red striped tie man scoffs, moving closer to you as he says "Not a woman like you. Don't tell me a woman of your beauty came here all alone. You know, I think that I'd-"
"Ah, thank you for keeping my date company, Wessly." You turned to see your date approaching you now, his black hair styled perfectly to show off his strong face and piercing eyes. He wore a tailored suit that shaped his Dorito-like upper body perfectly, even highlighting his muscles. He adjusted his white tie that matched yours perfectly before placing his hand on the small of your back, offering a now embarrassed and annoyed Wessly one of his charming smiles. That same smile that had women on their knees and had made him the billionaire and CEO he was now.
"Come on, San, you really can't let me talk to her? You always stroll into charity events with different women, surely you don't mind letting me get to know one." You didn't miss the mixture of annoyance and embarrassment that coated Wessly's words, only making San chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped closer to the other man, towering over him with his height. San's face may have shown that he was still smiling, but his eyes showed his true feelings: leave her alone and stay out of my business. "Oh, Wessly, always trying to make comments on other people's lives. You know, instead of becoming a failing interior designer, you should've became a private investigator with how much you seem to love talking about my personal life. Oh well, maybe next time."
You watched as Wessly dropped his head, making his way back over to the group of friends who watched him get destroyed with amused grins on their faces before turning to San, who had his own amused grin now on his lips. "Was that all really needed, San? You didn't have to bury that guy like that, I could've held my own."
"I know." San simply replied before grabbing a champagne flute from one of the waitresses. He chuckled silently as you rolled your eyes at his simple response, his hand still pressed to your open back as he led you down the steps and into the large group of people. Everyone had their eyes on the two of you, making your confidence grow as San stood next to you at various rich people's tables, bragging about everything you've done for his company and how you were basically the company's backbone. And it was true.
San took over his mother's successful company at the age of 20, making him one of the youngest CEOs in his respective industry. San worked hard to show everyone that he was the right choice to be CEO and not just because of his DNA relations. San truly worked hard and that's why everyone knows his name.
"Oh, you look just dashing tonight, Mr. Choi. Your date must be so lucky." San smiled at the woman's compliment, putting on his most charming smile before motioning over to you, showing you off to the woman before wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to his side. You didn't mind, though, placing your hand over his heart as you both met eyes before he said "No, I'm the lucky one tonight."
You had been in the company for only 5 years when San took notice of you. He had seen your name on the various emails you and him sent back and forth, but he had never physically seen you as you worked from home most of the time, and he wasn't at your job interview. The first time you actually saw San was at the company one evening during a meeting. You and him were sitting across from each other at the long, meeting table as everyone around you both discussed a new location for the company to open. While you didn't keep your eyes on him, you could feel his gaze on you; whenever you spoke, whenever you moved, he always seemed to be looking at you. Only after the meeting did you both speak your first words to each other...
"We haven't met yet, have we?" You stopped packing up to see your boss giving you a charming smile, his hands in his suit pants pockets. You shook your head, holding your hand out to him, which he took. "No sir, I've been working from home for the past 5 years. My name is Y/N L/N." San nodded, his eyes moving up your soft, warm hand to your body, then slowly up to your face. It was as if he was scanning you, trying to commit you to memory. 
Ever since then, you've both been seeing more of each other and soon you were brought into his office for some news. "I'm promoting you to head of company image. As you know, this role works very closely with me, so that means that you will no longer work from home, but work in the office next to mine. That is, if you accept." Who were you to turn down a promotion? You got a huge pay raise, your own beautiful office, and got to see more of the handsome man who was now leading you around the venue as if you were a beautiful diamond that needed to be admired by everyone. It didn't take you long to accept his offer, and you've been his right-hand woman since.
"Did you parade the other girls around like this, San? I may be used to walking in heels, but damn." You sighed he led you outside, waiting with you till your valet arrived. San shook his head, unbuttoning his suit jacket to place on your bare shoulders. "I didn't. You're the only one I felt like I just had to show off. You just have that affect, I guess."
San always seemed to have a rotation of women around him at all times. He would attend various charity events with any women from the company he chose. If you were picked, you were labeled as one of San's girls. You became the talk of the company as the other women gossiped if he'd actually want to see that girl romantically or not. None of San's girls have ever been taken seriously though by him; he called it a business event and that they were just his guests. It never was meant to be taken as him taking interest in them, he just thought it was a nice thing to do.
"I'm glad you finally admitted it" You smiled as your car was pulled up by valet, San moving to open the door for you to get in. When you got in the car, he closed the door, leaning his elbows onto your door as he leaned into the car to give you a small kiss on your cheek- a thank you for coming tonight even though he knew you didn't want to. You waved goodnight as you began to drive away, glancing at the rearview mirror as San watched you leave, a smile still painted on his lips.
______________________________________________________________
"Alexa, put the house in night mode."
You removed your heels at your door as you walked into your home, sighing at the feeling of the cold floor on your exhausted feet. You grabbed your house slippers before walking your way through your home to your bathroom, deciding to go about your nighttime routine. You put on some music before turning on your shower, looking forward to the hot water and relaxing. You turn back to the large bathroom mirror, removing your accessories as you did so.
You paused when you noticed San's jacket that still sat on your shoulders, as if he was there right behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. You couldn't help but bite your lip as you imagine it was him undressing you, his hands going onto your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing your shoulders before slipping under the fabric, pushing the sleeves of the dress down your arms, his lips following the falling fabric as he sinks his knees. His hands would move back up your body, feeling along your underwear as he kissed around the backs of your thighs before removing your bra and underwear, kissing back up his body before standing back up behind you.
You suddenly snapped out of your haze, your thighs pressed together as you took a deep breath before going into the shower.
San had just arrived at his own home by that time, his head pressed back against the front door as he closed his eyes, releasing a breath he didn't realize he had. You had filled his mind, his body aching for someone. He would usually try to find someone to spend the night with him to take care of his problem, but tonight he couldn't be bothered. Unless it was you, he didn't want her.
He pushed himself up from the door, making his way to the bathroom to begin his own night routine. He began to empty his pockets, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt before going after his cufflinks. Before he could continue, he met his own gaze in the mirror, admiring it for a few moments before he decided to take a picture. San knew he looked good and sometimes would take pictures of himself just to keep to himself; he went to the gym and it boosted his confidence to see that even when he was tired, he still looked good. He took around 3 pictures before he had an idea. He went over to his social media, posting the pictures to his story. While others may think he did it for everyone else to see and thirst over, he was really doing this for you. Whenever he posts anything provocative, you always send him a flirty text that has his mind racing. You may be his right-hand woman, but you had him like putty in your hands.
You had emerged from the shower when he posted, putting on your nightgown and robe before you checked it out. You took your phone with you to your vanity, sitting down at the large table filled with skincare and makeup before clicking on San's recent story, your eyes widening at the sight. Even undressed and tired, Choi San seemed to always look absolutely delectable.
You bit your lip as you moved to message him, clicking on the contact name "Sannie" before typing and sending "Who are you showing out for?"
San bit his lip when he saw your text, his smile growing as he texted back "You. Did you like it?''
"Yes, but you should've just sent it to me San. You can't keep showing out for all your fangirls and not giving me anything. It's like I can't have you to myself." Your text made San groan softly, his tongue poking out over his lips as he tried to not Facetime you. His thumb twitched over his keyboard before he cursed softly, clicking the Facetime button. He wondered what you looked like at that moment; were you wearing only underwear? Were you still in your dress? were you naked?
You propped up your phone against your mirror before answering, giving San a full view of your open robe and your sexy lace night dress in white. San couldn't help but curse before saying "Damn, Y/N, you weren't going to tell me that you were looking like this?" You laugh softly at the tone of his voice and how his eyes seem to stay on your body. You made sure to move in a way that gave him a full view of your body as you did your skincare. San patiently waited for you to finish your skincare, cursing whenever you moved in a way that gave him a view of your chest and hard nipples. You loved having his full attention on you, occasionally making flirtatious comments just to rile him up more. What you didn't know was that San was riled up beyond what you thought, a plan forming in his head on how he was going to get his fix from you.
"Since you're doing your skincare, I'm assuming you aren't going out anymore tonight?" You nodded at San's question, finishing your conversation quickly before hanging up. You didn't think anything of it, thinking that maybe he was getting bored watching you.
After finishing your skincare, you went to your kitchen with your corgi Star following behind you. You fed her and gave her more water in her bowl before deciding to look for a night snack. Before you could decide between strawberries and an apple, you heard a knock at your door. You tilted your head, glancing at the time before looking back at the door, the knocks getting louder. You followed behind Star (who was barking at the door, trying to protect you), opening the door before gasping as San immediately crashed his lips into yours. He walked inside, kicking your door closed before dragging you to the kitchen. Star followed behind, still barking at you both as your tongue met San's, locking you in the kiss.
San grunted as he pulled back from your lips, grabbing a dog bone he had brought for Star from his back pocket before tossing it deep into the living room, chuckling as the small corgi forgot all about you and ran away. Your own laugh was cut short by San picking you up, placing you onto the kitchen counter, kicking your legs away from each other before he stepped in between them, kissing you deeply. San took his time kissing you, despite feeling incredibly hot for you. He closed his eyes as you moved your hands through his hair, slowly scratching his scalp with your nails before dragging them down the back of his neck, making him shiver and moan softly against your lips. He smirked against your lips as your hands moved to the front of his shirt, your fingers immediately moving to unbutton the rest of his shirt.
San let you, his lips and kisses moving down your jaw and neck, sucking a gentle spot on your collarbone, making you close your legs around him, officially caging him in. Once you finally finished removing his shirt, you tossed it away before returning your lips to his, your hands exploring his body. You gently scrapped your nails down his large pecks, down his strong torso, till you got to his dress pants that no longer had a belt. "No belt, Sannie?" you asked, making him chuckle. "There's no point in a belt when my pants are going to be coming off soon anyways. Isn't that right, Y/N?"
You bit your lip at the sound of his voice, his smirk growing at the sight. He decided that it was his own turn to move his hands up your body, starting at your thighs, moving his fingers slowly up the inside of your thighs, making you shake a bit before moving them up your hips, sides, up to your breasts that were now barely covered by the nightgown. San could feel his mouth water at the sight, dipping down to place kisses and bites on the top of your breasts before his fingers pushed away the straps. You whimpered his name, wanting him to move faster, but San only shushed you, dragging his tongue along the tops of your breasts before pulling them down to expose your hard nipples. San smirked at the sight before leaning down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue immediately wetting it till it became hard, sucking on it.
You gently tossed your head back as San sucked on your nipple before switching to the other one. You placed your hands into his hair as he roughly pulled you to the edge of the counter, pressing his rock-hard erection against your wet pussy, allowing you to grind against it as he returned his attention to your nipple.
You cursed under your breath at the feeling, rolling your hips against his, making you both moan. You could tell San's resolve was breaking by how he was meeting your thrusts, his body pressing harder against yours until you had no choice but to lay back against the kitchen counter. Once you were laying back in a position he liked, he dragged his hands down to cup your wet pussy with his hand, his fingers dragging along the now wet fabric while his other hand pushed down his pants and boxers, giving you a perfect view of his hard cock that now stood up against his abs. You dragged your eyes down his v-line to meet the head of his cock, already leaking with precum. "Meet my eyes, angel." Your eyes meet San's as his hand moved to cup your jaw, keeping you facing him as he rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy.
Both of you let moans out in unison as he pushed into you, his hands gripping your hips as he stretched you out slowly. You closed your eyes at the feeling, your mind becoming fuzzy as he fully stretched you out, his hips pressed against yours. You opened your eyes as he kissed your stomach, switching between leaving kiss and bite marks on your skin. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his balls heavy with cum as he slowly kissed his way to your lips. San chuckled at how desperate you seemed to now, repeatedly pulling his lips back before they could meet yours and smirking when you chased his lips. He did a few more times before you got frustrated, placing your hand into his hair before making him meet your lips in a rough, needy kiss that made you both moan.
San took the opportunity to grab the tops of both of your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh before he slowly pulled back out of you, letting you feel every inch and curve of his cock, only stopping when the head of his cock was still in you.
"Hold on, baby. I'll make sure you feel good." You had no doubt that he could, your hands grabbing onto his strong shoulders. San met your lips once more in a heated kiss as he thrusted into you, making you both moan out loudly. San dipped his head into your chest, kissing and pecking on the skin between your breasts as he cock rocketed in and out of you. You dug your nails into his shoulders and locked your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he fucked his cock deep into your pussy. "Fuck, San, calm down" your words came out broken between your moans, making him chuckle. He playfully mocked you, pausing his hips to let you try to speak before thrusting hard into you, not giving you the opportunity to even deny him your pussy.
San suddenly picked you up, your legs and arms still around him as he held you in the air, fucking up into you. You gasped the the feeling of your nails now digging along the shoulders of his back as you moaned louder. In the position, San could hit any spot, no matter how deep. "That feels good, doesn't it, Y/N? How does it feel having me hold you up in the air like this, drilling into your naughty pussy like this?"
"So fucking good" you moaned, making San grip your ass as he completely wrecked you. You didn't get to prepare for your orgasm as it came crashing through you, making you whine his name loudly as your cum dripped down his cock and balls. At the feeling and the sight of you cumming, San felt his own release approaching fast. "Fuck, where do you want me to cum Y/N, fucking hurry up I can't hold back any longer" Through your pleasure-filled haze you reached up to cup his cheeks, making him meet your eyes as you spoke. "Fucking cum in me, please."
"Yeah? Want me to drain my balls into your wet pussy, baby? You want that? To fill you up with my cum and let it leak out of you like a dirty fucking girl?" You nodded, begging for him to do so until his lips crashed into yours, San stumbling back to the counter to put you down on the surface as he came, his cum filling you up as he praised you against your wet lips, his own voice now horse as he came down from his high. You closed your eyes as he held you, his body warm against yours as you both rested in each other embrace. After a few minutes of silence, you felt him slowly pull out, his cock now soft and his cum now leaking from your pussy.
"Shit, Y/N, honey, sorry. That's a lot, hold on." You loosely held onto San as he picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom, where he placed you onto the sink.
The same place you were thinking about him touching and undressing you, he now stood naked as the shower heated up. "There, I think it's good enough," San mumbled as his hand touched the water, checking the temperature before going back over to where you were admiring his backside. San chuckles as he approaches you, kissing your forehead before picking you up into his arms so that he could carry you into the shower. "Were you staring at my ass?" he asked, placing you down in the shower before closing the door. You nodded, having no shame in admiring it.
San chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead before grabbing your body wash and loofah, following your instructions on where to wash you and how to wash you before letting you wash him off. When you apologized for not having any "manly" smelling soaps, San laughed softly before saying "I don't mind. If you want, next time I come over here, I'll bring some to keep here. Plus that means I can go home tonight smelling like you."
You smiled at his words, placing a kiss on his chest peck as he finished washing his hair before helping you out of the shower, leaving the bathroom to grab you both towels and something for you to wear to sleep while you used the bathroom. When you came back into the bedroom, you notice that San had prepared the bed for you, a dim light by the bed being the only light in the room.
"Come here, honey," You turned to see San approaching you with your lotion, his hands gently massaging it into your skin before meeting your lips in a deep kiss. It was moments like this with San that you were always looking forward to: sure, the sex was amazing, but how he handled you with so much care afterward always made your heart swoon. He helped you get dressed before tucking you into the bed, placing a kiss onto your forehead before he left the room to go put back on his clothes. You almost drifted to sleep when he returned, keys in his hand as he crouched down in front of you. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow, honey. You can come in late if your legs hurt too much." You nodded at his words, placing a small kiss on his hand, watching as he stood up and made his way out of the room.
Before he could leave, you called out to him, making him turn around to you. "Oh and San, can you take Star outside so that she can go use the bathroom then bring her back inside so she can go to sleep?" San laughed softly before nodding. Just like you asked, he took the happy corgi outside before letting her upstairs into your room, where you slept soundly. San blew you a kiss before closing the door, making his way back to his car outside with a smile on his lips. Before San backed out of your driveway, he bit his bottom lip, imagining that he was in the bed with you, holding you as you slept. He soon sighed, deciding to just go home and not bother you. He'd see you tomorrow anyways.
______________________________________________________________
"Y/N L/N! How could you be this late and make me deal with everyone by myself for an extra two hours?!"
You offered your best friend an apologetic smile as you walked through the hallways, your heels clicking in sync with hers. You took San up on his offer that you could come in late. You called this morning to tell him, but you must've forgotten to tell her.
"It can't have been that bad while I was gone, right B/N?" You asked as you both entered your large office, a pout on her face as she fixed her bright red heel. You took her pout as a sign that it wasn't bad, she just didn't like anyone else like she liked you. You turned to open your large floor-to-ceiling windows, inviting light into your large office before you sat down at your desk. "How was the gala last night? I saw the picture Mr. Choi posted and the photos you sent me of the dress he made for you, so you both must've looked great."
Before you could tell her about the amazing night and how San was showing you off, your office door opened to show a group of women entering your office with excited grins also on their faces. You looked at them with confusion before one spoke up asking "well? how did last night go with Mr. Choi?"
You recognized the group of girls as the self-proclaimed "San's girls" group; all of San's ex-charity invites. You knew they were here to hear gossip about you and San and try to recruit you to join their friend group. "Look, I have no interest in gossiping about the charity gala and the time I and Mr. Choi spent together. I want to remind you all that we are in a place of business: we are here to work, not gossip over a boy like high school girls. Now please leave my office." Your words made all the girls' smiles leave their faces, disappointed that you weren't like them when it came to San. As everyone filed out of your office, your phone rang. You raised an eyebrow at the sudden phone call, shrugging at B/N before picking up the call.
"Ah, Ms. L/N, you're in. There is a large board of directors meeting today, so Mr. Choi asked that I give you a call to remind you and tell you to report to the meeting room in an hour for the meeting." You cursed softly as you listened to San's assistant Bambi, thanking her before hanging up. You had completely forgotten about the meeting, grateful that San had her remind you.
You rushed to the bathroom, checking on your hair and makeup before you checked out your outfit to make sure it was perfect: your white button-up had the first few buttons open, not showing your cleavage but enough to show off your gold necklaces, while your black pants hugged you perfectly. As you applied some perfume, you thought back to your phone call with San this morning:
"Yeah, you can come in late Y/N, just make sure you take your time getting ready then. I want you to come in today looking absolutely stunning so that when everyone leave tonight, I can bend you over my desk and fuck you like you deserve for listening to me." 
You bit your lip at the thought of what could happen later, checking your appearance once more before leaving the bathroom to join the meeting upstairs. When you entered the meeting room, you were met with an older man's eyes scanning you. You rolled your eyes as they did so, looking at you like you were candy for them. You were the only woman that attended these meetings as San's right-hand woman, so the men (whom you doubted have felt the touch of a woman since the early 2000s) decided that you were their favorite to look at.
San noticed how everyone kept their eyes on you, making his jealousy flare up. How dare these men look at you like that when you were his?
"Excuse me, let's get back to meeting matters please" San hid his jealousy under his charm, hoping that he wouldn't have to get disrespectful with some old men. The men thankfully agreed, all embarrassed from being caught checking you out by San. "Yes, well, the new location our company has secured is in Las Vegas, and before they open the venue the company would like for you to go and check it out to make sure it's up to your liking." San nodded, agreeing with the idea of him going to Vegas to look it over.
Then, he had an idea.
"How about this: we all go look it over. That includes you too, Ms. L/N." You turned to see San's smug smile, tilting his head as everyone cheered. You held question in your eyes, which San ignored as he returned to dealing with the group of men who were asking questions about the sudden business trip.
Later that evening, once everyone had went home for the day, you went into San's office as planned. "San, what do you mean that it includes me? I never travel with you and the other trustees."
"I know. But I think it's time for a change, don't you? Plus, the old men are planning a big celebratory dinner at the beautiful restaurant and I'll need someone to be on my arm, right?" You paused at his words, biting your lip. San never picked the same girl twice when it came to public appearances, always picking a different girl in the company. Before you could say anything, San stood up from his desk, preparing to go home. You still tried to gather your words while he walked around his office gathering his things before he walked behind you, his hands resting on your hips as his chest pressed against your back, his lips against your ear. "Make sure to bring a nice dress for dinner and some pretty underwear for me, baby."
You continued to stand in his office as he left, your cheeks heated while you processed what just happened.
You're going to Vegas.
You continued to mumble that as you looked through your closet for outfits to wear, wanting to find something perfect to wear to dinner. You sighed as turned to your bed, looking at the many dress options you picked out. To you, they all were great options for a celebratory dinner party in Las Vegas, but you couldn't pick one. You bit your lip for a while before grabbing your phone, dialing San. If anything, he'd offer you his honest opinion.
"Hello?" San asked, looking surprised when you turned it into a Facetime call. He then laughed as you showed him your dress-covered bed, biting his lip to hold it back when you began to complain. "You're overthinking it, honey. Just pick one, you'll look stunning in anything you pick." San sighed as you continued to overthink about the dresses, making him want nothing more than to solve this for you.
"My tie is going to be black honey. Do with that information what you will."
You paused at his words, your eyes immediately landing on a form-flattering black dress. You thanked San quickly, making him laugh before he stopped you from hanging up. "Real quick, honey: what's your favorite flower? The restaurant wanted to know for decor reasons and I know that me and other men won't care." You let out a small 'ooh' before saying "I've always been a red rose type of girl. But only fresh ones.'' San nodded before allowing you to hang up and finish packing, a smile on your face as you did so.
______________________________________________________________
You hated business trips sometimes.
You had to board your dog early in the morning to reach your booked flight in time, where you sat in business while San and some of the other old men sat in first. You pouted to San about it over text, his only response being "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Then when the plane landed, you all were immediately taken to your luxury hotel rooms, which all had a nice view. However, you didn't have to admire it as you had to change fast, all the other men were already in suits and waiting on you in the lobby. When San saw how rushed you seemed he felt a huge pang of guilt. He wanted to just hug you and let you relax for a moment, but he knew he couldn't do it in front of his trustees or he'll never hear the end of it.
Once you all had toured the new building that the company built, you all went back to your rooms to prepare for dinner. You appreciated the time you had, taking a long shower before taking your time doing your hair, skin, and makeup. When you put on the black dress, you admired how much it hugged your curves and flattered you beautifully. You then put on your heels, grabbed your bag, and made your way outside to meet the others in the lobby. When San saw you, he felt absolutely speechless. To him, you looked like a complete goddess. How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself when you looked that good? He smiled as the others complimented you, taking a moment to breathe in your new perfume that he had gifted you a while ago, making him close his eyes momentarily before opening them again.
When you all arrived at the dinner venue, you were escorted to a private dining room at the top of the building, which gave you all a beautiful view of Las Vegas. However, when the door opened, you noticed San become tense and then froze. Only when you got past him did you see why he stopped.
"I hope you don't mind, Mr. Choi, but I invited my personal friend Wessly to join us tonight. I think you two know each other." You glanced back at San who held in his anger in his eyes. He didn't say anything for a moment, his jaw locking then unlocking a few times, leading you to step up before he said or did anything that was unfavorable. "I'm sure Mr. Choi doesn't mind. Please, Mr. Wessly, sit down. Join in the celebration."
You then met San's eyes, watching as the anger that was in his eyes became hidden under his charm once more. "Of course, he can join. The more, the better." The group erupted into cheers as San sat down at the table across from you, his eyes not meeting yours. You felt a pang of worry when he continued to ignore you, moving your foot to gently touch his, hoping to get his attention. You succeed, San's eyes immediately meeting yours at the touch of your heel against his leg.
Now you knew why he wasn't looking at you.
San's eyes darkened, offering you a warning in his eyes before they were once again replaced by his charming smile as he took a sip of his wine and joined in on the group conversation again. You bit your lip, removing your heel from his as you tried to hold back the arousal that you felt beginning to pool in your underwear. Noticing your silence though, Wessly leans over to whisper into your ear, asking if you're alright. You nodded, whispering back that you just got a random heat flash. Wessly nodded, suddenly wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Your eyes widened slightly at the feeling, looking over at him as he took the opportunity to flirt with you, with the other old men egging him on. You could see out of the corner of your eye that San was absolutely not having the display in front of him, his leather shoe soon meeting your ankle, making you turn to him. To everyone else, his eyes seemed normal, but to you, you knew that he was sending you a message.
Get his arm from around you now. 
You tried a few times to move from his arm, but Wessly would move in his seat so that you would be back to being right back against him. You sighed happily when the food arrived, forcing him to remove his arm from you to eat. However, before you could dig in, you felt San's foot, tap yours again, making you look back up at him. San didn't say anything as his mouth was busy with the food in his mouth, but his eyes did motion over to your phone that sat in your bag. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking through your bag before finding your phone. When you did, you noticed a text from San.
Sannie: When everyone else leaves this room, you and I need to have a conversation.
You looked at San with another look of confusion, but you're only met with the sight of him eating and ignoring you once more.
After dinner was finished, some of the trustees ordered themselves drinks, deciding to head to the many casinos around Vegas. You thought about joining them, standing up from your chair only to remember the message that sat on your phone. You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see San drop something and kick it under the table. Before you could grab it, San spoke up. "Ready to go, Y/N?" You nodded, letting him decide where you went. Only when you both reached the elevator did San stop you suddenly, patting his arms and pockets before cursing softly. "Ah, it seems that I lost my phone. You go on without me and Y/N, we're going to go look for it then probably head back to the hotel for the night."
You agreed with San, waving goodbye to everyone as the elevator doors closed before heading back to the private room with San. The minute the doors closed behind you, San had you pressed against the door. His lips were immediately on yours, his tongue pushing his way into your mouth, making you moan. Something seemed different with San right now: he was more aggressive and demanding, his hand moving around your jaw to tilt your head back so that he could make out with you properly. You let out a muffled moan as he pulled back, his hands grabbing your ass roughly before he pulled back from your embrace. When you moved to make a step forward, San let out a stern "Stay," stopping you in your tracks. You watched as San untied his tie, placing it onto the table before he spoke.
"Look at you being good for me, it's a shame that that won't help you out of this punishment." Your thighs pressed together at the faux disappointment in San's voice as he walked closer to you. He was close enough that you could reach out and touch him, but you didn't dare. San smirked softly, cupping your cheek before leaning in and kissing you softly.
"Safeword is Honey, ok?" San asked against your lips, waiting till you nodded before he whispered "Good girl" against your lips, placing a soft kiss back on your lips. You smiled into the sweet kiss enjoying how San was treating you, but you couldn't help but be excited at the idea of him punishing you.
San pulled back from the kiss, his smile dropping as he made his way over the the nearest chair, pulling it to face you and the door before he sat down on the chair, manspreading as he he beckoned you. You bit your lip, about to take a step forward when he stops you. "Take off your panties and give them to me." You blinked at his request, your mouth trying to ramble off excuses on why you couldn't but San didn't care. "Don't act like we haven't done worse in private. Shall I remind you of that time we were having phone sex and you were begging for me to take you into my office during a phone meeting and fuck you stupid while I work?" You blushed, rushing to cover his mouth.
San smirked at your reaction, grabbing your hand, removing it from his mouth as his free hand moved to touch your thigh, slowly moving up your inner thigh, making you shiver. "Cold?" He asked, his smirk growing when you asked him to shut up as you didn't want anyone else to hear you both. San didn't care, though, leaning forward to bite the skin on your leg before pulling down your panties, placing them into his pocket before he looked back up at you. He loved seeing the submission fill your eyes when he got like this, his cock twitching in his pants.
"Get on your knees, baby. You gotta start earning your title as my good girl back." You nodded, sinking to your knees in between his legs, running your hands up his thighs as you kissed along his thighs. Your hands made quick work of his belt and pant buttons, your hand eagerly moving to rub his cock over his underwear.
"Get to it, baby, before someone comes in here to clean up." He groaned, raising his hips to help you push down his pants and underwear. He sucked in a breath when you wrapped your hand around it, pumping his hard cock a few times before placing your mouth around the top, teasing him by gently sucking. San groaned again, his patience snapping when he pushed your head all the way down on his cock. You looked up at him as you began to bob your head, letting him fuck your throat as you gripped his thighs. "That's it, Y/N, let me use your throat like this. You like this don't you? You want someone to walk in on us like this? With you on your knees letting your boss fuck your pretty mouth and throat like this?" You moaned around his cock, making him hiss at the vibration.
You were suddenly pulled up from his cock, San panting above you with his eyes closed. "I was so close to fucking cumming. Wanna come in you, baby" He breathed, his hand still in your hair as he stood up, kicked the chair away, and bent you over the table. You bit your lip as San smacked your ass, pushing up your dress around your hips. He moved his hand around the globe of your ass, grabbing and spanking as he pleased. You had been moaning into your hands as to not let anyone else know about what you two were doing, but that only made San upset.
You suddenly felt San's chest against your back, grabbing his tie from the table before he grunted "Open." You did so, allowing San to place his tie in a line along your mouth, muffling your words. San tilted his head, tugging his tie, smirking when your head moved back with his tug. "Remember the safe word, baby. If you can't speak, hit the table three times and I'll let go of the tie." You nodded, smiling when you felt him press a gentle kiss to your cheek. But this was a punishment.
You cursed loudly around the tie as San thrusted hard into you, not giving you a moment to adjust as he drilled his cock into your pussy, his hips meeting your ass roughly with every thrust. San cursed at every movement of your ass against his rough thrusts, leaning over to spit on one cheek before he spread it over your ass, roughly massaging your ass. You closed your eyes as San roughly tugged on the tie, making you sit up with your back against his hard chest.
"Y/N? San? Are you two still in there looking for the phone?" San released his grip on the tie as he heard Wessly's voice, closing his eyes as he tried to fix his voice to respond to him. You bit your lip, moving your ass against San, giving your pussy and his cock some friction while you spoke, making San moan into your neck as his hands move to the front of your dress, his hands pulling down the fabric to envelope your breasts in his hand as you both continue to grind against each other. "Y-yeah, sorry Mr. Wessly-"
You were cut off by San's lips crashing into yours, making you gasp. "Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear you say that son of a bitch's name? I bet he gets off on the idea of you moaning his name like you're moaning mine," San spat against your lips, his jealousy clouding his mind and judgment as he picked you up, moving you over to the closest wall to the door before he picked you up, wrapping his arms around you as your wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him refill you easily, making you both moan.
"S-san, he's still out there. And I don't think I can keep quiet" You whimpered, making San scoff. "Who fucking cares if he hears you? Let him listen to how good I fuck my girl." You bit your lip as he began to pound into you, your wet pussy making loud sounds as he does so. If someone were to walk by and listened close enough, they'd be able to clearly tell what you and San were doing, but he didn't care, and neither did he. He roughly removed his suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor before he laid down on it, moving your legs to his shoulders.
"Oh my fucking god, San, that feels so good," you moaned, not minding your volume, which made San's cock twitch. He leaned over, pressing your knees against your breasts as he moved faster, making you louder. San glanced behind, smirking when he saw Wessly's shoes still outside the door.
The little perv was listening.
You whimpered when San pulled out, moving you to your hands and knees before he fucked himself back into you from behind, making you get louder as he spanked your ass. "Come on, baby, let the perv hear how fucking good it feels for me to absolutely drill into this pussy from behind baby" You moaned louder, your legs shaking as your orgasm began to approach quickly. San cursed at how tight you were getting, moving his hand to play with your clit before proudly saying "That's it, Y/N, be a fucking good girl and cum all over my cock, then you're going to come clean my cock"
At San's words and the feeling of his cock drilling into you, you came all over his cock, even coating the front of his thighs. You shook as you came down from the orgasm, your eyes closing before San pulled out, moving in front of you with his cock still hard, but now shiny, covered in all of your cum and essence. You opened your mouth, welcoming his hard cock as you sucked on his cock, bobbing your head as San moaned loudly. You slipped a hand between your legs, playing with your clit as you continued to move your head on his cock, the sight making San moan louder.
"Such a dirty girl, are you? You just came, yet here you are, playing with your poor clit while you suck me off. You just love this cock, don't you, baby? Why don't you beg for me to fill your throat with my cum. Nice and loud so our buddy Wessly out there can hear too" You nodded, pulling your mouth off of San's cock as you played with your clit faster, begging him to cum down your throat. San soon rolled his eyes back as his hand moved on his cock before he pushed your head back down on his cock, filling your throat with all of his cum. You didn't have a moment to breathe, because San flipped you over onto your back, moving in between your legs before he leaned down, shoving his tongue deep into your pussy. You moaned loudly closing your eyes as one of San's hands moved up your body as he ate your pussy, gripping your jaw to face the door, silently letting you know to moan that way and let him hear you.
San moved faster as you moaned his name, a finger pushing its way into your pussy as he continued to suck your clit, only pulling back when you had cum and pushing him away from your clit. He sat up with a confident smirk on his lips before he moved under the table, grabbing his phone before he fixed his outfit. He offered you a sweet, shy, smile before he picked you up, helping you fix your outfit before he placed his jacket on your shoulders, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
When you both exited the room, you offered Wessly an apologetic look as San said "Yeah, me and my girl found my phone. See you later, yeah?" San didn't wait for a response laughing softly at the man's shocked reaction as he entered the elevator.
"San, that was crazy!" You whined, San's smile growing as he placed a kiss on your cheek. He spent the elevator ride assuring you that there were no cameras in the room and that you weren't getting into trouble and that Wessly wouldn't tell anyone.
When you and San get outside, he leads you to the black SUV he rented for the trip. "Wait, before you get inside" You pause at the passenger door, turning to see San grab something from the backseat before he stepped back out, facing you with a bright smile. In his hands, he held the most beautiful and biggest bouquet of roses you had ever seen. You gasped softly, accepting the flowers from him before he placed a kiss onto your lips. "I thought you'd might want something pretty after all that" San smiled, placing another kiss onto your lips before he helped you get into the seat. As he walked around to the other side of the car, you bit your lip at something you remembered him saying. 
Yeah me and my girl found the phone
You couldn't help but smile at the thought of becoming San's official girlfriend. "Woah, did I do that good a job with the roses that you're smiling so big like that?" San asked as he got into his seat, chuckling softly before he turned the car on, holding your hand, gently intertwining your fingers. "No, just you said me and my girl to Wessly..." you said, looking down at your intertwined hand with a smile. San glanced over at you before lifting your hand to his lips, placing it back down on your lap with a smile.
"Well, let me take my girl back to the hotel. I have another surprise for you."
"Please do."
______________________________________________________________
"San, when did you have time to do all of this?"
You stood in the doorway shocked as San chuckled, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. He had hotel staff move your luggage to his exclusive suite, and bring in a bunch of heart balloons, more roses, and bring in champagne. San cleared his throat, seemingly more nervous than usual. He took the flowers from you, placing them on the desk before he got down on his knees, carefully removing your heels. You felt your heart skip multiple beats a the sight, thanking him softly. He nodded, before holding your hand, leading you to the bathroom. The bathroom was gorgeous, with a beautiful marble bathtub that sat next to a view of Las Vegas. You smiled as San prepared the bath, adding bath bubbles, rose petals, and brought in his speaker and phone to play some soft jazz.
You allowed San to help you undress before helping you into the water, letting you relax. You watched him undress before he got in behind you, allowing you to rest back against his chest.
"This is nice, no?" You leaned back to look at San, who still had that blush on his cheeks. He was trying so hard to impress you and be romantic.
"Yes San, this is perfect. You smile, turning around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck, placing a long kiss onto his lips. San welcomed the kiss, his lips molding with yours as he welcomed you onto his lap. As the kiss continued, you moaned at the feeling of his cock hardening. You bit his bottom lip, raising your hips to sink down on his cock, making him toss his head back. "Shit, this...isn't how I expected this to go" He moaned, holding your hips as you began to grind down on him. You raised an eyebrow, cupping his face to ask what he meant. San tried to play it off, but you knew better.
"I did all of the decorating and stuff because I wanted it be romantic so that I could ask you to be my girlfriend." You paused your movements at his words. San was going to ask you to be his? "I thought it would make me look like less of an asshole if I did it correctly. I was even going to order room service so that we could eat and then I could ask you."
"San you're not an asshole. Why would you ever think that?" You ask, making San look away. "I took over the company at 20. I was still a stupid college student just with all this money now. When it came time for me to start going to those charity galas, I...I don't know, I guess I was insecure and so I bribed a woman at the company to go with me as my date. That's how this whole "San's girls" group started. Instead of actually dating someone, I just picked a woman from the office and made her mine for the night, knowing damn well I wasn't going to pursue anything." You could sense the shame in San's voice, cupping his cheeks so that he could look at you. Before you could speak, though, San cut you off.
"But, now I've grown up. I've learned from that part of my life. And after bringing you with me to the gala, all our years of flirting, and fucking, I can't deny that I'm in love with you, Y/N. So, if you'll have me, I'd love to be your boyfriend."
You smiled at his words crashing your lips into his, making him moan. He closed his eyes, making the kiss deeper as you began to roll your hips again. You both were then interrupted by San's phone notification. You both leaned over to see who it was. It was a message from Holly, a girl who was part of the "San's girls" group.
Holly: Hey Mr. Choi, what are you up to tonight? Wanna facetime? ;)
San rolled his eyes, about to delete the message and go back to making out with you when you stopped him, leaning over to prop up his phone and pull up the camera. San looked at you with a confused look before you pressed record, locking your lips his again. You began to bounce on his cock, making him moan into the kiss. "Who's your girl?'' You asked against his lips, making San whine "You."
"Who? I can't hear you." You said, getting louder to show him what volume he needed to be talking at. San bit his lip before moaning louder "You. You're my fucking girl, honey." "Then you need to fuck me like you mean it, okay baby?"
Your words made San's mind short-circuit, his hands rushing to grab your hips before held you in place as he fucked up into you. You grabbed his shoulders as the water splashed around you both, making you both moan louder. "That's my girl, taking my cock just like this, gonna show the camera how good you can take it? Maybe I should show all of those girls at the office how I would've fucked them if they were truly my girl." You moaned louder at San's words, feeling your orgasm rip through you. San didn't stop though, finding the water now annoying, pulling you up from the water and grabbing his phone to move to the bedroom, where he laid you on the bed, wrapping your legs around him as he fucks you. Your back arched as San played with your clit, pressing down just right to make you cum again. San then pulled out, cumming all over your stomach and breasts. You closed your eyes to try and catch your breath, opening your eyes when you heard a camera shutter go off.
"San, did you just take picture of me covered in your cum?" You asked, making San smiled brightly and nodded. "I'm not going to show anyone, I promise. I just want it for if I ever have to travel and I missed you." You smiled as San cleaned you up before laying down on the bed next to you, kissing you softly.
"Is it too late to say that I want room service still?" you asked, making San shake his head as he laughed, leaning over you to grab the hotel room phone and handed you the menu. "No, baby. Anything my girl wants, she'll get."
__________________________________________________________
One month later
"There you are!"
You looked up from your paperwork to see B/N enter with a huge smile on her face as she sat down in a chair. "I've been in my office all day, you know that B/N. What's up?" You asked, leaning back in your chair as your friend pulled up San's Instagram, showing his newest post with red hair. Everyone in the office was in love with it. B/N gave you a proud smile before she asked "Did you dye his hair for him? Is that why your bathroom looked like you murdered someone?"
You smirked, doing the zip motion with your lips and hand before you stood up, gathering your things to go to lunch with San. B/N pouted as you both left your office asking "When are you going to let me in on you and San's relationship? I wanna know the details."
"Soon, B/N. Patience is important." You smiled, patting her head before you walked away to the elevator. When the doors open, you were met with the back of your boyfriend's head, his hair still a vibrant red. You smiled as you entered his office, making him turn around. He smiled softly at you before muting himself on the phone meeting he was in. "I'm sorry baby. I'm still in this meeting, so you're going to have to wait."
"That's alright, I can think of something to do while I wait" you smiled, walking to him with a smirk. San knew that smirk meant, standing up from his chair to move the chair as you began to pull up your skirt. San rushed to lock the door, biting his lip with a proud smirk as he looked at you bent over his desk already with your skirt and panties off. "Do you think you could multitask?" You ask as he stood behind you, unbuckling his belt.
"I think so, baby girl. Let's see, shall we?'' He asked, placing a kiss onto your lips before he pushed in, kissing your ear as he whispered "That's a good girl, already so wet for me. That's my girl."
BAMBIKISS | 2024
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lizzyk137 · 3 months
Text
Misunderstandings and Realizations- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)
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Summary: You and Spencer started to drift apart after JJ's confession, you can handle it for only so long before leaving him. Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst, fluff, brief mentions of sex, brief mention of serial killer, brief mention of seizure, talk of pregnancy, brief moments of being in a hospital Based on Season 14 episode 16 all throughout Season 15
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Something went down.
Not in the bad way, well you guess you could say it was bad because there was a hostage situation with an Unsub, but something certainly happened.
You felt it when he came back home to you that night. Curling himself around you, kissing your neck all over before finally making passionate love to you, like the world would end if he didn't. Usually, you cuddle and fall asleep after you both clean up, but he left you in bed as he went out to the living room, his face masked of any emotion.
His face often did that now when you were around. You had asked the other team member's partners during your weekly get together at the park, but none of them knew what went down that night, not even Will. All he knew was that the Unsub played a game with JJ and Spencer, and JJ didn't tell him anything but that.
You saw the looks at Rossi's wedding, you tried to ignore them. Will seem oblivious to them, but you caught every single one. Spencer didn't ask you to dance either that night, something he loved to do with you since it gave him the excuse to hold you close, look into your eyes and give you kiss after kiss all while you giggled. He loved the feeling of your heart beating in sync with his, he had told you and since then he would randomly dance with you at home and especially when you both went out.
The looks continued throughout the night, the random hush conversations. They didn't stop even when Will got JJ to dance or Alvez came over to ask you to dance. Spencer didn't even seem to care when you said yes, and you spent the rest of the night dancing with Alvez and Pennelope. He just sat alone at the table, his gaze always finding JJ's.
--
Kristy watched you, her hand on her growing bump, as you ran around the playground with her youngest daughters. "Are you sure he isn't just stressed?" She had asked, her voice almost lost in the mixture of the kid's giggled and screams.
You peaked your head from behind one of the slide's. "He's been going to therapy and taking his medicine regularly. It could be but he's never been like this before."
You slid down the slide, the plastic being a little slicker than you thought causing you to fall off and onto the ground.
A pain in your stomach appeared, causing you to gasp, but you quickly brush it away as Henry and Michael came running up to you with a disheveled Will running to catch up with them. You played with the kids for a while, the pain growing more intense, before you slugged your way over to the bench where Kristy and Will sat.
"You should sit down. The kids are pushing you hard today." Kristy laughed. You sat down next to her, a cry escaping your lips as your body touched the cool bench beneath you. "Are you okay?"
You shook your head as the pain increased, your vision going blurry as you felt Will's hands grab your body before it hit the bench.
--
Spencer watched as Matt and Kristy laughed at what Luke said, Matt's arms circling his wife's very pregnant belly. He wondered if he would get to do that one day, but he shook the thought from his mind before going back to his conversation with Tara.
"How's Y/N, doing? She's been quiet the past couple of meet ups."
Spencer nodded his head before lying, "She's been okay, work has her stressed out. She spends most days reading or with the kids." He knew it wasn't the truth but every member of his team that has asked how you've been, he just gave the same reply. Because in all honesty, he didn't know the truth. One day you were just quiet.
He saw the cracks in your usual smiley self. You were a ray of sunshine, always what was needed to brighten up his usual gloomy self. He knew things have been different, he didn't want to admit it. His brain always confused on what he wanted and possibly who he wanted, though he would never tell you that. He always made himself busy, usually taking on more cases from police departments that needed help or booking more classes to teach. The only intimacy you both had was when he came home after cases. He would kiss you like your lips was the air he needed and then made love to you for hours before watching you drift off to sleep before moving to the couch which had become his bed every night because it wasn't right of him to lay next to you while he had been tossing around the idea of a life with another women.
Spencer knew you were lonely, but you stayed, he was thankful for that, he didn't know what he would do without you in his life. But he couldn't shake what was going through his head.
Somewhere in the midst of overthinking, his feet brought him to Kristy. She stood there glowing as she smiled, her hand still rubbing on her belly. "Come to say congratulations again, Dr. Reid?" Her eyes playful as she teased him.
"Um, do you know where Y/N is?" He asked. He hadn't been able to find you for the past hour, which shouldn't have been hard since the house only had so many hiding places.
"She didn't tell you, did she? She had an appointment this afternoon, but she should be here soon." Spencer nodded, trying to remember if you had told him, which you didn't because his brain wouldn't allow him to forget things. "This must be super hard on her though, so make sure you show her some extra love."
Spencer looked at her puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"You know, with the miscarriage. It has to be hard on her to go to this type of celebration." Spencer's puzzled expression only grew as she spoke, so she decided to continue on. "Did she not tell you? She told us she was going to tell you."
"Everyone knew?" His voice barely a whisper.
"No, no. Just Will, Penelope, Luke along with Matt and me. It happened about eight months ago. She fell down playing with the kids and passed out. Will brought her to the hospital, they said it was because she was so stressed."
"Because of work?" Spencer voice was squeaky as worry clouded his face even more.
Kristy's voice was soft but also annoyed. "No, because of what has been going on with you and JJ. She hasn't been herself since then."
--
You finally made it to the party, your nerves getting to you. Your doctor had confirmed the baby was fine and growing healthy. But you were worried, so worried. What if this ended up like before? Your worrying hadn't died down and Spencer hadn't down anything to change that.
Opening up the front door, you made your way into the house, the house filled with laughter and noise. Your eyes scanned for Spencer, but you couldn't find him. You eventually found Kristy; a smile plastered your face as you hugged her tight. She was one of the few people who could make you naturally smile.
"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that you hadn't told Spencer, and I may have told him what happened." Her words fast and covered in worry.
"It's okay," you told her, your hands rubbing her arms. "I just haven't had the heart to do it."
"I didn't tell him what was going on now though." Kristy eyed your too big sweatshirt that had covered your bump before squealing. "How did it go?"
You laughed at her enthusiasm. "It went well, the doctor reassured me that everything was okay. They're healthy and happy. And no, I did not find out the sex either, so don't ask." Her face turned into a pout, and you couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. "Where is Spencer? I think we should definitely talk."
You made your way over to the back patio that Kristy said she had last seen him. You were going to come clean with everything that has happened the last eight months, but your determination faltered when you saw Spencer hugging JJ close to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back.
--
Diana was calling you. Which was strange since she hasn't called you in months. You answered and made your way to a quiet place in the house. You were happy she remembered you, the conversation flowing nicely before she told you about Spencer's visit. What he said and how he felt. She was worried about him, and as his childhood best friend she wanted to let you know what was said and what she had replied with.
You ended the call with the promise to call her back tomorrow. You sank down to the floor, your growing belly blocking you from curling up the way you wanted too.
What had you been expecting? Spencer finally coming clean to his mom that you were together. You doubted he would now that you had moved out without a word a month ago with no communication since. And Diana had proven you right. He made no mention of your relationship.
You took a deep breath and got up. Fixing your hair, you walked out of Matt's office and made your way to Kristy to tell her that you had finally made up your mind.
--
Months had gone by with silence.
No word from him.
No word from you.
You only heard what was going on via the team when they checked up on you. You told them that they didn't have to do that, but Emily said you were a part of the family, you had been for years, and not even Spencer's shitty attitude would change that.
Alvez had taken you in after you told Kristy that you were moving on from Spencer and going forth into motherhood alone. Alvez was someone you trusted, and your friendship grew these past few months. He watched out for you, and you watched out for any girl that you could set him up with. He said it was a win-win situation for him.
You didn't see each other anymore than friends, brother and sister if you really thought about it. But you were grateful for that. You needed it and Alvez enjoyed your company and having someone to watch Roxy while he was on cases. He helped you every time you cried about Spencer especially when you went to your baby appointments and your hormones would make it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that you were doing this alone. Spencer had already moved on, and you were having his baby alone.
But this perfect set up wouldn't last. The baby was coming soon, and you had to find a place that you could have a proper nursery or at least more space than Alvez's tiny apartment. Plus, the chance that Luke would wind up in a relationship was high, any girl would fall in love with his great personality, and you didn't want to ruin what he could have.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, setting up the baby's car seat. "We would all feel better with having you here with the Chameleon running around still."
"I think it would be better to move out, I don't want to get in the way."
Alvez chuckled then sighed. "Y/N, you're not in the way. I know you felt that way for a bit, but you aren't. The team want you safe. So, stay here until we've caught the guy, alright?"
"Alright, but after that I'm moving out."
Weeks have gone by, the team on the lookout for the serial killer that had haunted Rossi. During that time, you had given birth to an adorable baby boy, the spitting image of Spencer. He was perfect and the sweetest baby, sleeping through the night, all the cuddles he gave you. He was just perfect.
Your phone rang, and you quickly got up to grab it before it awoke your sleeping son. "Hello?" You whispered.
"Oh, Y/N, Spencer..." You heard Penelope crying. "He.. he was shaking so badly... Oh my god, Spencer..."
"Penelope, slow down. Take a deep breath. Tell me what's going on."
Her words were rushed and mumbled, but from what you gathered, you were already packing your baby's stuff up and heading to the car before you got off the phone with her.
--
You rushed into the waiting room to find Penelope and he his mom sitting together. "Oh, Y/N." Diana got up and crushed you into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here."
"How is he?"
Penelope grabbed the baby bag from you. "He's awake now, they ran tests and he'll be okay. They're cleaning him up right now so we stepped out but should be able to see him soon."
You nodded and sat down. It wasn't long before they called you in, you lingered in the back. You hadn't spoken to Spencer for months and you didn't know how he would feel seeing you, especially with the state he was in currently. Plus, you didn't want to make his new girlfriend uncomfortable.
You watched him hug his mom and Penelope, a smile on his face, you could tell he was trying to calm both women's nerves. He chatted with them for a bit until his eyes landed on you in the doorway. He gave you a small smile, his eyes traveling down to the baby carrier in your hands.
His 100-watt smile returned as he looked to his mom and Penelope. "Do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" They both nodded and headed out. You lingered in the back of the room, Spencer just watching you.
"How are you feeling?" The silence was deafening, and you wanted to fill the space with something.
"I'll be okay. Is that-?" He nodded towards the carrier. You nodded to his question.
"Did you want to meet him?" You stepped closer when he gave you a small nod. You unhooked the still sleeping baby from his car seat and brought him over to meet Spencer. Spencer reached his arms out and your heart tightened a bit at the sight of your baby being held by his father for the first time. You gently laid your son in his arms, his face brightening with a big smile.
You sat there for a few minutes watching him make faces at your baby, cooing occasionally. You didn't even realize you had started crying until Spencer called your name, worry on his face.
"I'm sorry..." You quickly wiped the tears away.
"It's okay. Thank you for letting me meet him. What's his name?"
"Oh, um, he doesn't have one yet. Every time I think something may sound right; it just doesn't fit." You reached over to fix the blanket that was near your son's face. "The deadline is coming up, so I'll have to settle on something."
Spencer nodded; his one hand came up to stroke his son's face. "You'll find the right name, I know you will, Y/N."
Something in the way he said your name, made you break down. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing or how weak your legs felt. Spencer moved the baby and grabbed your hand, pulling you down to sit on the bed and held you close to him as you sobbed.
Your baby's cough stopped your sobs instantly and you whipped around to look at you sleeping sons face. You rubbed your hand over your face. "Have you been doing this alone?"
You nodded in reply. "I don't want to bother Alvez. He barely comes home with the Chameleon on the loose."
His hand found your face and cupped it gently, your tears still flowing. "I'm sorry I haven't been there. You've done it all alone. I should've been there."
You shook your head quickly. "It was me. I decided this. I didn't tell you." A sob escaped your lips. "It was just so hard without you there." Spencer opened his arm wide, inviting you to cuddle in and you did. You sat like that for a long time, Spencer's arm rubbing circles on your back as you held your arm over his other arm that was holding your son, your head on his chest.
You lifted your head up and looked at Spencer, his eyes on locking onto yours. The draw was powerful and neither of you realized what was happening until your lips touched. After that, you couldn't keep your lips off of him. Both of you pressing your bodies as close as you physically could with a baby in your arms, the need for each other growing with every second. You pulled away for air, guilt instantly hitting you.
"Spence... we shouldn't do this..." You mumbled between Spencer's kisses.
"Why?"
"Because... You have a girlfriend..." The assault on your lips continuing and you were trying not to enjoy it.
Spencer pulled away; his eyes still locked onto yours. "I don't have a girlfriend. I mean I did but I don't anymore. It- it was a fling to try to get over you, but I just couldn't, especially when I found out about our baby. I just want you, Y/N."
"But JJ...?"
"I was confused over what she said, that was wrong of me, but I knew I always needed you with me. I may be smart but I'm dumb when it comes to my feelings. When I found out you lost our baby, I lost it at the shower and JJ encouraged me to talk to you but when I came home you were gone." His eyes started to water, and he pulled you and your baby closer to him. "I've been a mess, barely sleeping, barely eating. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, I know what I've done is not excusable and you have every right to not want me in your life, but I need you."
--
"Y/N!" Spencer whisper yelled at you to get your attention. You looked up at him to find him pointing at the sleepy baby he was holding. You walked over, a smile on your face to see your baby sleeping with his tongue slightly sticking out through his smile.
You giggled, wondering how you got so lucky to have such an adorable baby. "Are you almost ready to go?"
Spencer nodded, before reluctantly putting his sleeping son in his car seat. "Do we have to leave him?"
You giggled again at the silly pout on his face. "As much as I want to stay with him, I think we both need to mentally get out of this house." He nodded as he picked up his son's car seat and diaper bag before making his way out of the house with you locking up behind him.
After dropping your son off at your mother's, Spencer and you made your way to Penelope's sendoff party. Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles against your skin. He knew how anxious you were to be away from your child, hell he was just as anxious, but he knew you needed to see your friend off or you wouldn't forgive yourself.
He felt you relax after a minute, and he gave you a smile when you looked over at him. You sighed and continued to look at Spencer, taking in his features and how attractive it was watching him drive with one hand on your thigh.
The first few weeks after your reunion with Spencer was awkward. You didn't know how to react to everything going around you. The case was wrapped up, Penelope announced she was leaving, and Spencer wanting to get back together. Spencer and you took it slow, not wanting to rush into things, just learning what you both had miss, you decided on being friends and he had suggested in both of you getting a place together so it was easier to raise your son and Alvez could have his place back.
You declined at first but after some thought and Spencer showing you pictures of a few houses on the market, you caved in after seeing a two-story house with its wrap around porch and lilac bushes covering the front yard. All you could picture was your son running around the house playing as you sat on the porch in the early mornings, a book in hand. Since then, the next month and a half was getting the house turned into your home.
The friendship thing worked at first, but somehow you would end up staying up waiting on Spencer to come home from cases, him carrying you to bed when your body couldn't keep yourself awake. The early mornings where you cradled your son as you sat on the couch, Spencer's arms wrapped around you from behind, his face next to yours as he cooed at your little one. The random make out sessions in the kitchen when the tension became too strong.
And one night he gave you such a scare.
You sat waiting up for him, he had sent you a text that he was on his way home, but he wasn't answering your calls, and you feared the worse when he wasn't home hours later. When you heard the front door open, you stomped your way from the kitchen to see his smiling face, arms full of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. His smile faltered when he saw how angry you were, tears streaming down your face.
You yelled at him, careful not to walk the sleeping child upstairs, but enough for him to realize how angry you were with him. You angrily put away the groceries, telling him that he should've brought a charger to plug in his dead phone, or let her know that he was going to the store instead of saying he would be right home. He didn't understand why you were so upset with him, his brain too tired to figure it out until you blurted out that you loved him. He looked at you with an apologetic smile before pulling you into his arms, apologizing for worrying you.
Sighing in his arms, you looked up at him, the joke you were about to say escaping your mind when you saw the hunger in his eyes. He took your face in his hands and brought his lips to yours. The kiss was full of passion and love and when you pulled away for air, he told you he loved you. After that, the night was filled with passionate kisses and love making.
You smiled thinking back on the memory. Spencer still took things slow with you; he told you he didn't want to mess up his second chance. He slipped his hand on the small of your back as you made your way into Rossi's backyard.
All night Spencer seemed nervous, but you played it off on his dislike for change and Penelope leaving was a big change for him. You squeezed his hand that was on his chest as you slow danced to the music that was wafting around you. You nuzzled your head in his chest as you swayed even when the music stopped playing.
"Y/N." You looked up at Spencer's face, his dark eyes on yours. He kissed the back of your intwined hand and pulled away from you. He reached into his pocket and kneeled down as he pulled out a box. He opened the box to reveal a tear shaped diamond ring, your right hand covering the gasp that came from your lips.
"I know I said I would take it slow, but I can't imagine my life without you. I want to wake up beside you every morning, go to bed with you in my arms, play with our son in the backyard and watch him grow up and continue growing our family." A few stray tears fell down both of your cheeks, a smile stretching across your face at the mention of expanding your family. "I want you and your love, the gentle smiles you give, your contagious laugh. I don't ever want to let those go. You are my home, you are the only one I think of all day, the one who can calm me down with just one look, word or touch. I need you in order to be me. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you please be my wife?"
"Yes!"
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sanguineterrain · 4 months
Note
Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.
Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...
Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.
I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.
And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.
❤️❤️❤️
This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓
Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.
****
You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.
She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.
You take her home.
Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.
You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.
You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.
You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.
You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.
"Hey, Jaybird," you say.
Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.
"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."
You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.
Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.
"That's a baby," he says.
You nod. "Yep."
Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"
"How would that even work, Jason?"
"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."
"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"
"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"
"I found her."
Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."
"Uh-huh."
"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."
"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"
"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."
You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."
Jason pouts. "Are not."
You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.
"Are too. Wanna hold her?"
Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"
You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."
"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."
"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."
Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.
"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."
You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.
"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.
"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."
"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.
"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."
Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.
He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"
You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."
Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.
"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."
You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.
"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.
"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."
"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."
You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.
"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."
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satorusugurugurl · 4 months
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How would satosugu, nanami, and choso react to reader trying to hide a really bad injury after a mission and thinking they’ll take care of it tomorrow, but they end up passing out or something ?
Mwah 💋
Hurt
Summary: You get injured on the job, and try to hide it from your boyfriend, how will they react when they find out the truth?
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Choso Kam, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,221
Warning: Mentions of injuries, blood, suggestivness, little angsty, little crack!
A/N: Ah nothing like a good stern lecture from sexy anime men! Thank you for the request Nonnie enjoy!! 💚
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Gojo Satoru + Geto Suguru
This wasn’t good, nope, not in the slightest. Your side was killing you. The structures the doctor at the hospital did sting each time you moved, and you’d already taken the pain meds he had prescribed. You just needed to wait until tomorrow. Shoko said she’d heal you as soon as she was in town. Until then, you just needed to fake it.
“I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Ijichi announces as he opens the car door for you. “I should call Gojo and Geto to tell them what happened.”
“I’m fine,” you respond with a grimace. “They're busy teaching right now. I don’t wanna be a bother.”
“But you lost a lot of blood.”
“I'm fine!” you assured him, patting him on the back as you headed towards your house. “Don't call them. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Standing inside the threshold, you waved as he drove away, but the second the door shielded your face, you doubled over in pain. If the assistant supervisor had seen you like this, he wouldn’t have let you go inside alone. Your trusted friend would have called your partners, insisting for them to come home. If they had known what had happened, they would have cared for you, of course, but you would also have received a lecture on why you should be safe. Geto would insist you train specifically with him. Gojo would ensure you were sent on missions with him until they were sure you could protect yourself.
That would be the worst-case scenario. You hadn’t gotten injured like this in years. It wasn’t even your fault. The floor gave way, leaving you vulnerable for a second, totally not on you, but your boyfriends wouldn’t see it like that.
“Oooh fuck me.” You whimpered, resting your head against the door. “Fuck me”
“That can be arranged.” Hot breath fanned over your neck, making you jump. “Whoa, easy there!”
Gojo’s eyes were on you as soon as you turned toward the voice. They were full of happiness and joy over seeing you come home. “Satoru? What are you doing at home? Shouldn’t you be teaching right now?” Your sudden outburst had him blinking in confusion.
“All of the students were sent on missions,” Geto answered as he leaned against the wall, cocking an eyebrow. “There were no other missions, so we decided to surprise you.”
“Oooh!” The throbbing pain in your side had you wincing. “That’s great! Awesome, what a nice surprise!”
“You don’t look too excited,” Satoru bluntly called you out. “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”
“Oooh yeah, I’m great.” You were lying; you were far from great because the room was spinning. “I need to sit down; my feet are—” your vision blurred as you stumbled past Satoru leaning against the wall.
“You sure?” Suguru asked, gently grabbing your shoulder and steadying you. “You look pale.”
“I'm just tired.” the faster you got past them, the quicker you could get off your feet and relax.
Suguru releases your shoulder, letting you step towards the living room. “For someone who’s doing great. You sure are swaying a lot.” Satoru was by your side, watching you as if he thought you would fall, which you might end up doing.
“Yeah, I can assure you, I’m fine.” Your tone was as sharp as a knife, causing both partners to cease interrogation. “I just wanna sit down with you both., watch a movie and cuddle.”
Upon hearing your request, the request you always made when you returned from a mission. Both men fell into your routine. Suguru walked past you, heading to the couch, while Satoru ran to the bedroom.
“I’ll grab blankets!”
“Princess, do you want to grab the snacks? I’ll pick out the movie.” there was a particular look in your dark-haired boyfriend's eyes. He was trying to test you to see if you were as fine and dandy as you claimed to be
Knowing him, the interrogation would start if you asked to pick out the movie instead. Neither he nor Satoru would let up until you came clean about the injury. Once that was out in the open, you knew the lectures and scheduled training sessions would soon follow.
Blinking away, the blurry vision in your eyes, you gave Suguru a thumbs up, heading into the kitchen. You grab different kinds of snacks, candy, popcorn, and some chips. Each wavering movement had the stitches in your side screaming in protest; your sore skin begged for you to sit down and relax. You tried to fight through the pain, but your painkillers weren’t cutting in. Leaving you in a sheen sheet of sweat as you carried the bowls back to the living room.
Upon hearing your footsteps, Suguru turned just as Satoru returned with a blanket. The bowls in your hands felt like they weighed a ton as you tried stepping forward, but your legs refused to move. Suguru noticed your behavior, standing and taking a tentative step forward.
“Princess?” Two Suguru’s stood before you as your vision blurred with black spots. Something hot and wet ran down your side.
“Why are there two Suguru’s?” Your voice cracked as the bowls fell to the ground. “I-Is it my birthday?” Your hazy attention was suddenly on Satoru as you stumbled. “Oh,” Blinking at the Satoru’s rushing for you, the room suddenly turned on its side. Oh no, you were falling. “Fuck.”
Darkness overcame you, and thoughts of double Satoru’s and Suguru’s infiltrated your dreams. Dreams that were lewd, sweaty, and full of pleasure. But in the midst of your, what would you call it? SatoSugu orgy, Shoko appeared, staring down at you.
“Make sure you sterilize that wound,” Her cigarette bobbed between her lips. “Infection can set fast.”
“I know that.” The Suguru at your neck responded less out of breath than you were.
The Satoru between your legs looked back at Shoko. “Do you want us to bring her in tomorrow?”
“No, I’ll stop by on the way to work.”
As you blinked in your dreams, your groggy eyes opened, and you found yourself lying in bed. Suguru was shaking a spray bottle before spraying it on your side. The wound suddenly felt like hundreds of hot needles were stabbing it. With watering eyes, you screamed in pain. You knew the spray was supposed to help, but it seemed to enhance the throbbing pain in your side.
“Looks like your patient is awake.” Shoko chuckled on the phone Satoru held. The pain made you try to curl in on yourself just to have your boyfriend stop you. “I’ll let you guys go. See you in the morning.”
“Bye, thanks, Shoko.” the second you heard the FaceTime call, cerulean eyes met you. “Soo, you wanna try telling us how your mission went again?”
“N-No.”
“Ooh, she said no, Suguru.”
“That she did. Do you want to tell her?”
Your white-haired boyfriend shook his head, a sinister smile on his face. “No, I know you were looking forward to it.” Suguru’s eyes were shut as he gave you a gentle smile that wasn’t gentle in the slightest.
“Did you seriously think Shoko wouldn't call us and tell us about your injury?”
It feels like your house crashes around you. “That traitor.” Your wound receives another spray of antiseptic. “Ow fuck! What was that for?!” Suguru continues to smile, the smile that always scares the loving shit out of you.
“You heard Shoko, I need to make sure it’s clean.”
Satoru is by your side in an instant. “Why wouldn’t you tell us what happened? Did you think we were going to yell at you or something?” You bark out a laugh, giving them a look of disbelief.
“Yes! I made a rookie mistake. Regardless of how it happened, it ended with me leaving myself wide open and getting hurt in the process. I know that this one.” Suguru hums in response. He cleans up the bloodied gauze around you. “Is going to make me train with him. And you aren’t going to let me go on any missions by myself.”
“You’re right about one thing: you will be training with me every morning for a week.” Suguru pats you on the head.
“But you’re wrong about me going to higher-ups. I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself; you had an accident. You’re not the first sorcerer to get injured on the job.”
“Wait, seriously?”
Both your partners exchange a look with each other. “Yeah, we aren’t going to lock you in the apartment and not allow you to go out. You’re strong, but you shouldn’t have lied to us.” Suguru gently strokes your hair back. “So in the future, if you happen to get hurt, just be honest about it. You wouldn’t like it if Satoru or I hid something like that from you, would you?” They watch as you shake your head.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I won’t ever keep something like that from you guys again.”
“Good,” Suguru kisses your forehead as Satoru lies beside you on the bed. “but just because you apologized doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet.”
“Huh?”
Satoru claps his hands together above his head, drawing your attention. “Sex ban for a week.” If your side wasn’t screaming in pain, you would have sat up.
“S-Sex ban?! Why?! Shoko will have me all healed up tomorrow!”
“Your side might be healed, but our hearts are still wounded.” Faux sorrow is thick in Satoru’s voice.
“L-Let’s be reasonable about this! I haven’t seen you guys in like a week! I need you both!”
The sound of things being thrown in a trashcan draws your attention. “Should have thought about that before you lied to us. For the next week, you’re training with me; in that time, neither me nor Satoru will touch. You’re not even allowed to touch yourself. Princess, you’ll have to suffer and watch us go at it.” Satoru scrambles off the bed, throwing himself at Suguru, his delicate pink lips pressing against your boyfriend's. “It’s a shame, too, because you sounded like you were having a great time when you passed out earlier.” You helplessly lay in bed, watching your boyfriends make out with each other.
You never hid another injury from them after that torturous week.
Nanami Kento:
“Ow, ow, ow.” You gingerly touch the gash on the back of your head. It throbbed in pain to the point it was making you dizzy. You had Nitta glue it shut with the first aid kit from her car, ignoring her pleas to call Nanami and go to the hospital. The gash itself wasn’t a big deal. So, there is no point in calling Nanami on his day off. It could wait until Shoko was back at school.
A cursed spirit got too zealous and threw you against a metal gate. The impact had you seeing stars, but you quickly shook it off and finished your mission. The wound would be another addition to the scars you had gained over the years. A superficial cut was something your boyfriend did not need to worry about or get involved in. The only thing he needed to do was lose himself in his book.
Reading was precisely what he was doing as you stepped into the apartment. Nanami’s legs were propped up on the ottoman, his eyes roaming over the pages of the book he had eagerly awaited. The gentle smile on his face as he sipped tea was the only clarification you needed to know you had made the right choice and not bothering him.
“I’m home!” You announced, kicking your shoes off before collapsing on the couch beside him.
“Welcome back.” Nanami laid his book down on his chest, allowing him to kiss you gently. “How did the mission go?”
“Easy, I’m happy to be home.”
“I'm happy to have you home. I was pretty lonely and bored.”
“Lonely and bored? Is your book not that good? You’ve been so eager to read it for weeks.”
“Oh, it’s good, I missed—” his lips move, but a sharp ringing in your ears drowns him out. He notices the blank look as you try to pinpoint what he said. “Love?”
“Hmm?” Play it cool, play cool.
“I asked you a question.”
Well, playing it cool might not be as easy as you thought. “I’m sorry I’m a little out of it. What did you say, Ken?” The questioning look in his eyes lets you know he’s on to you. Damn him for being so perspective.
“I said I missed you and asked if you wanted to lie down on my lap while I read.”
“Oh! Sure, of course.”
You rest your head in Nanami’s lap, making sure your gash isn’t anywhere close to him. Your husband notices the awkward way you lie down, as if your head is tender to the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. He lifts his book while his free hand gently strokes the top of your head.
Each time he pulls his hand back, you stiffen in fear that he’ll graze over your wound. He doesn’t come close, though. Nanami focuses his strokes solely on the crown of your head. Usually, you would have called asleep and could fall asleep, and you would have if it weren't for the pulsing, pounding pressure that begins to build in your head. You choke back, pained groans, and whine, not wanting Nanami to know what’s going on.
The pressure continues to build, and nausea swirls in the pit of your stomach. Ringing in ears, headache, and nausea put the three together, along with a head wound, and you don’t even need a doctor to tell you what’s wrong. Most likely, you have a concussion, and it’s a bad one.
You should have listened to Nitta and went to the hospital. Getting checked out right now was probably a good idea, but how could you tell your boyfriend now? ‘Oh, my brain got scrambled by a cursed spirit and failed to mention it to you. Could you maybe take me to the hospital?’ Yeah, that was a conversation destined to end in an argument or lecture, both if you were lucky. If Shoko hurried up, you might have been able to sneak out to meet her at the school.
“Love.” Your husband whispers. “You’re trembling, and you keep wincing. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’m—” Nanami holds his hand out in front of your face. His palm is coated red with blood.
“You’ve already lied to me once, so do not do it again.”
“Ooh, I’m bleeding.” You try to sit up, but your body falls forward as dizziness overwhelms you. Nanami catches you, lifting you into his arms. “The blood is supposed to be inside of my body.”
You blink slowly as Kento rushes out of your apartment. There are blurred shapes and muffled voices as you’re treated in the hospital; you feel disoriented like you’re high. Your husband's hand holding yours is the one comforting sensation that grounds you.
His thumb rubs comforting circles over your knuckles. His deep, soothing voice talks to you, shushing your pained cries as the back of your head is stitched shut. And his smell engulfs you as you lay together in the hospital bed.
Once the room clears, you look towards your husband, who stares ahead with an unreadable expression. The instant he feels your eyes on him, his head jerks in your direction. That unreadable expression shifts into a look of anger and disappointment. You were royally fucked.
“Ten stitches.” An audible gulp sounds from you. “The doctor had to put ten stitches because your makeshift patch job failed.”
“It was only—”
“Stop talking, do not interrupt me.” Oh, he was pissed, and you felt like you were five inches tall as you snapped your mouth shut. “I called Nitta to find out she told you to call me, but you insisted on not bothering me on my day off. When have I ever in our entire relationship made you feel as though I’m not available on my days off?”
“You haven't.”
“Then tell me why you wouldn’t have called me.”
“I-I didn’t wanna be a bother. You work so hard you deserve to relax on your days off.”
Kento turns so he’s facing you, fingers gently holding your chin. “Just because I have a day off does not mean I am incapable of caring for my wife.” The anger that burned in his brown iris shifted to sadness and concern. “Do I make myself clear? We don’t hide stuff like injuries from each other.”
He had every right to be angry. If he had hidden the injury from you, you would’ve reacted the same way. Hiccups bubble in your chest as you softly cry. Nanami’s grip on your chin slides up to your cheek fingers, gently brushing away the falling tears.
“I'm sorry, Kento, I should’ve talked to you.” His lips kiss away the last lingering tears. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for apologizing. Are you okay now? You're not in pain, are you?”
“No, I'm just drained.”
Nanami peered at the clock on the wall. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll wake you in about an hour to check on you.” His warm and gentle voice has you drifting to sleep.
“I love you, Kento.”
“I love you too, darling.”
Choso Kamo:
“Ew, do you think it’s broken? It shouldn’t look like that.” Nobara cringes as Megumi and Yuuji help ease you onto a bench.
“It’s just a sprain.”
“I don’t know, but it’s already swelling.” Megumi’s blue eyes lock on your ankle. “I might be broken.”
Yuuji is biting down on his knuckle, glancing between your ankle and face. “My brother is going to kill me.” You were going to kill the three of them if they didn’t give you some space to breathe.
“It’s not broken. I assure you of that, and Choso will not kill you.”
What had started as a typical training session had turned into a full-on brawl. One that ended with you getting kicked so hard you stumbled back ten yards just to roll your ankle. None of your students were at fault; if anyone was, you encouraged them to go at you with full strength.
“Look, just do me a favor, okay? Do not mention this to Gojo. The bastard will never let me live it down, and if you see Choso, don’t mention it to him either.”
“Should we just go grab Ieri for you?” Megumi glanced back at your ankle, which was already starting to bruise.
Oh, if only life were. “She has today off, and I refuse to bug her with some so Minuscule; I’ll be fine until tomorrow.” Skepticism painted the features of your students. “I’m fine. Go wash up. Class dismissed.” None of them moved like they were waiting to see if one of the three would fight you on your decision. There was hesitation in their features, so you mustered the best mom look you could.
One that terrified them more than a curse.
“Right, right! Later!” Yuuji was the first to take off, running down the path. Taking a second glance at you was all your other students needed to follow close behind him.
You sat there on the bench, looking up at the sky. All you needed was a few minutes to yourself before you attempted to head back. But those few minutes turned into an hour. Not because you got tired or lost track of time. No, it was because when you tried to get up, your ankle protested at the weight you put on it.
Maybe it wasn’t a minor sprain like you thought.
Regrets of your choices in the last hour lingered like cheap perfume. You had no phone, no students to help you, and there was no one to come to your rescue. Your only choices were to crawl back to the teacher dorms or wait for a soul to pass by. If no one stopped by, you would have to settle in for a long night
You were about to start crawling, praying Gojo didn’t walk by when a confused “Baby?” Called out from down the trail, drawing your attention in.
Choso was rushing forward, his hair bouncing with each step. “Hi, Cho!” You waved before patting the seat next to you.
“What are you doing here? Gojo said your training session with the kids ended over an hour ago.”
“Oh, I, uhm, just wanted to admire this beautiful day. Take a chance to smell the roses.”
Your boyfriend sat down next to you, his eyes moving to look up at the trees. The sunlight that shone through the branches and leaves caused the rays of sunlight to dance over his handsome face. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and soaked in the sun's warmth.
At that moment, you forgot about the pain in your ankle. He looked so happy; the last thing you wanted to do was ruin his peaceful zen to have him worry about you.
Opening his eyes, he let out a soft sigh before his warm gaze met you. He looked at you like he had when admiring the towering trees above. Damn, your busted ankle; if the numbing pain weren’t so bad, you would’ve kissed him until neither of you could breathe.
“I see you’ve been here. It’s a perfect day.” Yeah, if only he knew the other reason you were sitting on the bench. “As beautiful as the view is, it is getting late. Do you want to head back? Yuuji invited us to go to the movies tonight.”
“Uhm, yeah.” Choso took your hand in his, helping you stand up. “Nngh.” You cry out behind your hand as the pain in your ankles shoots up your leg.
Choso’s warm gaze on you and an. “What’s wrong?” He studies your stance, noting how you put all your weight on your good ankle.
“N-Nothing, I’m just stiff.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm!”
“Okay then.” he pulls his hand away, causing your balance to falter. “Let’s go if you're fine.”
Sweat beads on your forehead, not from the warm day but from the pain. “Alright.” You try to come off as chipper, but your voice betrays you, cracking under the discomfort. “L-Let’s get going! Movies! Yay!” Choso crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you.
Taking one step forward feels like a sore is plunged into your foot. You grit your teeth before taking another step forward, the pain more intense this time, the singular sword suddenly multiplied by ten. Blinking away the tears in your eyes, you attempt to take another step forward, only to stumble.
You brace yourself for the impact that never comes. Choso’s arm is around your waist the second you stumble forward. He can feel your ragged breathing as he eases back onto the bench. His long fingers gently push up your leggings, revealing your swollen and discolored ankle. It seems as though sitting on the bench has made it worse. You knew better than to let it dangle. I.C.E., icing, compressing, and elevating was best for you to do with a sprained ankle. Instead, the swelling was out of control when this could’ve been avoided.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” In your tear-filled gaze, Choso’s eyes are lingering on your face. “Is this the real reason you’ve been sitting here for so long?”
There was no sense in lying, not when you had been caught. “Yes, that’s why I’ve been sitting here. The kids offered to help me, but I was being stubborn.” The sigh that leaves Choso’s mouth is thick with disappointment. “I didn’t bring my phone, or I would have called you eventually.” Your boyfriend moves, turning so his back is facing you.
“Yet when I’m beside you, you still hide it.”
“I-I know, I’m sorry.” You wait for him to get up and leave you stranded on the bench. But instead, he looks over his shoulder at you.
“Well, come on,” he gestures to his back, “get on, we’ll go home, and we’ll take a look at it there,” You do as he says, climbing onto his back. “And up we go.” he stands, allowing you to bury your face into the crook of his neck. He gives you a piggyback ride across campus. Things remain relatively quiet until he sighs. “Baby, next time you get hurt, please tell me. That way, I can help you,” he glances at the corner of his eye. “I know you think you have to do things all on your own, but you don’t when I’m with you.”
Not even a second passed before you bit down gently on his cheek. “I promise I’ll tell you next time. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier. I’m sort of embarrassed that I got taken down by my ankle. I’m a sorcerer, for god's sake.” You give his cheek another nibble, winning shy laughter from him.
“Don't eat me~ how will you get back to the dorm?”
“Crawl?” You suggest, resulting in Choso laughing harder.
“No crawling for my baby, I got you.” and you couldn't have been more content with that.
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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months
Text
The Rookie (ABC Series)
Tim Bradford x fem!reader
Page 2 (series and blurbs)
This list contains all fics and sequels.
all Tim Bradford x reader stories (newest to oldest)
Poisonously Bad Day
4.1k+ words | angst to fluff | Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)
A Room Away
4.2k+ words | angst/fluff & hurt/comfort | Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.
A Room Away (No More) 3.7k+ words | angst/fluff & hurt/comfort | Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.
Secret Admirers
1.9k+ words | fluff | You become Tim's secret admirer, and when you get your own in return, you struggle to accept what your feelings toward Tim mean.
Broken Heart Mender
2.4k+ words | angst to fluff | After hearing Tim tell Angela why he's not in a relationship with you, you pull away and make yourself sick with a broken heart. After too long without hearing from you, Tim finds you and promises to make everything better.
Falling Slowly
4.0k+ words | fluff | You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.
Tim Testing
2.5k+ words | angst to fluff | After transferring to the Mid-Wilshire division because of toxic male officers harassing you, you find yourself partnered with Tim Bradford. When you are injured during a Tim Test, you hide the injury so he doesn't think less of you.
The Better, Hidden Half
3.9k+ words | angst to fluff | wife!reader | Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.
The Better, Not So Hidden Half 1.9k+ words | fluff | After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.
Not So Grumpy
1.8k+ words | fluff | pregnant!wife!reader | Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.
Not So Grumpy (Part 2) 1.3k+ words | fluff | Months after being introduced to the rookies, you get a chance to see them again. After your baby is born and Tim's grumpiness continues, you finally have a chance to properly meet them.
Firefighters: Friend or Foe
1.8k+ words | fluff | shy!pregnant!wife!reader | You spend the night at the fire station with your best friend, not realizing how jealous your husband Tim is.
Firefighter Friends (prequel to Friend or Foe) 1.9k+ words | fluff | shy!wife!firefighter!reader | After you become a firefighter, your friends convince you to make a funny video. Tim walks in while you're filming and finds a new reason to tease you.
The First of Many
1.4k+ words | fluff | Tim has to work late on your first Valentine's Day together, and apologizes with a huge teddy bear, takeout, and both kinds of wine.
Don't Leave Me for Her
2.0k+ words | angst to fluff | pregnant!wife!reader | You see Tim laughing with Isabel and begin worrying that he will leave you and your unborn child for her.
Is It My Turn to Panic?
2.0k+ words | fluff | shy!pregnant!wife!reader | You go into labor while visiting Tim at the station, and you both panic before getting to the hospital.
A Family at Your Side
2.6k+ words | angst to fluff | shy!paramedic!fem!Buckley!reader | You, Evan Buckley's sister, are a paramedic with the 118. When you're called to a fire, it quickly becomes a crime scene when someone opens fire on you. Your boyfriend Tim Bradford and your fire station family have to work together to save you.
Anything Can (And Will) Happen
2.1k+ words | fluff | Chen!reader (Lucy's sister) | When Lucy tells you about Tim's eventful Halloween a few years ago, you use it to tease him. When he gets annoyed, the truth comes out.
Kojo Bradford, Wingman
1.4k+ words | fluff | Tim is (still) a bachelor, until Kojo decides to change that.
Mini Me
1.3k+ words | shy!mom!reader | fluff | After giving birth to your twin boys, Tim is upset that they look just like you. He's momentarily distracted by a visit from the godparents, Angela Lopez and one of your best friends, who Tim only refers to as soldier.
Mini Me and Dogs 1.3k+ words | fluff | The godfather of your twins (soldier) brings his friends and some dogs to visit you in the hospital. While everyone tries to make you shy, the dogs and your new friend help you out.
Mini Me and Battlefields 1.8k+ words | fluff | When you drop by the station to surprise Tim, you accidentally start a battle for who gets to hold your twins next.
Flirting with Cops
1.8k+ words | fiancée!rookie!reader | fluff | On plain clothes day, you pull over your fiancé, Tim Bradford. Your TO, Nyla Harper, grows very interested in your personal life.
Yelling at Cops 1.7k+ words | angst/fluff | After you are injured, your fiancé Tim yells at you and treats you like a boot. When Wade and Nyla find out, they tell him what really happened.
Popstar Protection Program
2.8k+ words | singer!reader | angst to fluff | As a young popstar performing in LA for the first time, you don't expect to need police protection. A very reluctant and grumpy sergeant keeps you safe and gives you inspiration.
Just a Dog Walker
3.5k+ words | grad student!dog walker!reader | angst to fluff | As Tim's dog walker, and nothing more, you grow close to him and Kojo. After protecting Kojo from a dog fight, you learn how Tim really sees you.
Hold My Hand
1.4k+ words | angst to fluff | When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.
Doggitude
2.8k+ words | angst to fluff | After Tim takes his bad day out on you, you leave. Kojo misses you and does everything he can to see you again.
Chase You Down
2.5k+ words | angst to fluff | Hiding after being robbed, you find comfort in a dog and his handsome owner. In the days following the crime, they protect you and care for you.
It's Commander, Sergeant
2.7k+ words | Army-FBI!reader | fluff | After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.
Keep Living with Me
4.6k+ words | angst | You fell in love with Tim Bradford quickly, and he receives your mother's blessing to propose. After you watch your mother's murder, his plans are thrown off and he gives you a place to heal.
Keep Living with Us 1.8k+ words | fluff | After the death of your mother and getting engaged to Tim Bradford, you take another step in life.
We're Getting Married Now?
4.3k+ words | fluff | When Tim finds out you need a fake boyfriend to take to your cousin's wedding, he steps up and offers to go with you. After a night in his arms, you learn that his "boyfriend act" isn't just an act.
Quit for a Reason
2.1k+ words | wife!reader | angst to fluff | When a suspect begins looking for you while you perform a surgery, Tim finds out why you quit your job in law enforcement.
We've Got a Problem
1.1k+ words | fluff | When you get arrested on Tim's day off, you have to call someone to get you out of jail. Tim doesn't answer when you call, but when he finds out what happened, he makes it a bigger problem.
It's Not About You
2.1k+ words | fluff | When Tim overhears his fellow police officers and your other neighbors flirting with you, he gets jealous, and takes it out on you.
Finally Home
1.6k+ words | shy!military doctor! reader | fluff | You enlist your boyfriend Tim to help you surprise your (adoptive) sister Lucy after being deployed for several months.
Pictures of You
1.3k+ words | wife!artist!reader | fluff | While patrolling the fairgrounds, Lucy convinces Tim to have their picture drawn. She doesn't expect you, Tim's wife, to be the artist.
Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me
3.0k+ words | angst to fluff | You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.
Rook Book
2.4k+ words | fluff | When you return to the Mid-Wilshire station for a Metro inspection, you don't expect to run into your former TO, Tim Bradford.
Rook Book to Remember Me By 3.6k+ words | angst to fluff | Tim's delay in transferring to Metro may have cost him everything, and as he and Lucy search Los Angeles for a killer, he only has his memories and a fake rook book to remember you by.
Carry Us
1.2k+ words | fluff | Tim carrying your son out of the hospital is the cutest thing you've ever seen, and you make sure you'll never forget it.
My Wife
2.2k+ words | angst to fluff | While you're out running errands, a man takes a special interest in you. When he grabs you and thanks a police officer for finding you, his wife, he doesn't expect it to be your husband.
Constant Faith
1.4k+ words | worship pastor!reader | angst to fluff | When your church is robbed during worship practice, you try to remember as many details as you can to tell the police. Tim is the responding officer, and despite his worry about you, he's impressed by what you remember.
Constant Faith and the Life it Brings 1.8k+ words | fluff/comfort | After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.
Why Don't You Flirt with Me?
3.7k+ words | angst to fluff | 5 times you're jealous of someone flirting with Tim Bradford, and the 1 time you tell him why.
I Don't Want Easy
2.0k+ words | angst to fluff | wife!r | When Tim leaves in the middle of the night, you don't know what happened. After you find out you're pregnant a few weeks later, you must decide whether you want to wait for the man who abandoned you or move on.
Cop Meet Cop
2.6k+ words | fluff | + platonic Deacon Kay x r | When your best friend, Deacon Kay, finds out that you're dating a cop, he wants to know everything. Introducing him to Tim Bradford is easier said than done.
Speed Limit 2525
11.7k+ words | angst to fluff | Speed (1994) AU | When Tim Bradford goes head-to-head with a bomber, he finds himself on a bus carrying a bomb and you.
With You, Even When I'm Not
5.5k+ words | angst to fluff ; hurt/comfort | When one of Tim Bradford's enemies is released from prison, he sets out to hurt Tim by hurting you. You trust that Tim will save you, but time is not on your side.
Devastation
3.4k+ words | angst (w/ brief fluff) | cop!reader | You leave Tim because he takes out his frustration about a long day on you. The next day, everyone in the station can tell you're both miserable. A surprise calls sends Tim into a devastated spiral as he wonders if what he said was worth it.
Walk Dates
2.8k+ words | fluff | You and your service dog meet Tim and Kojo during a walk. The dogs force you and Tim to keep meeting, but neither of you mind. When you're late for a walk because of an emergency, Tim decides he would like to be more than walk-buddies.
California Dreams
2.8k+ words | fluff | You move to California to be closer to your brother John after your mom dies. There, you meet Tim Bradford and begin dating. When your boyfriend and brother meet each other, you're surprised to learn it isn't their first interaction.
Confident in Us
2.8k+ words | fluff | confident!reader | You're confident, you keep Tim on his toes, but he realizes that it's not enough. He learns that you have a son from a previous relationship while Angela is pressuring him to ask you out, but you beat him to it.
Call a Truce
3.6k+ words | angst to fluff | You and Tim have a rivalry that began when you were rookies. Years later, you continue competing in everything you do, even when you're helping Tim get out of a dangerous situation.
Better Care
3.1k+ words | angst to fluff | teacher!reader | One of your students is absent, and you worry about her until you return home and see her with your husband, Tim Bradford. He's taking care of her following the death of her parents, but neither of you want it to be a temporary arrangement.
Arrest Me, But Make it Sexy
1.5k+ words | fluff | cop!reader | Tim recruits you to aid in a Metro op. When you ignore his direct orders, you dare him to arrest you, but you have a request.
Arrest Me, But It's Not So Sexy 1.6k+ words | fluff | While you're undercover, Metro raids the drug manufacturing facility you're in. Tim tries to arrest you again, but you have a job to finish.
Talk To Me, Baby
1.0k+ words | fluff | shy!wife!reader | Your son loves to talk to you. Unlike his dad, Tim, he doesn't try to make you shy.
No Party Like a Costco Party
1.9k+ words | fluff | shy!reader | You enjoy going to Costco, so Tim decides to take you shopping on your birthday. With a little help from your best friend, it turns into a party.
What I Didn't Know I Had
1.7k+ words | angst to fluff | pregnant!wife!reader | You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.
Skepticism
2.1k+ words | fluff | fem!NFL!reader | Tim is skeptical about the first female NFL player. When he shares his opinion with you, he doesn't realize that you are the woman he's talking about.
Lonely in Misery
2.0k+ words | fluff | paramedic!reader | Bailey notices that you're lonely and miserable while Nolan notices the same about Tim. They decide to set you up on a blind date, but it only ends with more sadness.
Lonelier in Misery 1.7k+ words | fluff | After you first date with Tim, you decide to keep your relationship from Nolan and Bailey for as long as possible.
Truth Serum
2.6k+ words | fluff | cop!reader | While searching for an abducted child, you and Tim are abducted and injected with truth serum.
Defend Myself
1.9k+ words | fluff | During a hockey game, you get into a fight with the drunk man sitting beside you. When Tim Bradford arrives to break up the fight, he decides he'd like to see you again.
Stay in the Car
2.3k+ words | fluff/comfort | cop!wife!reader | Tim disappears from the station, and you and Aaron have to find him. After a heroic leap of faith, you save him in more ways than one.
No Bad Days When You're in Them
2.3k+ words | angst to fluff/comfort | Tim has a bad day, but he forgets about it when he sees you get hurt.
All The Reasons We Can't
2.6k+ words | fluff/comfort | When you move in with Lucy Chen, you don't expect to fall for her ex-boyfriend.
Dodgers Date
1.5k+ words | fluff | shy!wife!reader | For your weekly date night, Tim takes you to a Dodgers game.
Celebrity Crush
1.1k+ words | fluff | You have what some might consider to be an odd celebrity crush. Until you meet him in real life, that is.
Celebrity Crush, Table for Two 1.2k+ words | fluff | You go on a date with your celebrity crush after meeting him in uniform.
More Than Meets the Eye
3.4k+ words | documentary-style | You and Tim go undercover as your criminal doppelgängers. When the case is turned into a documentary, the interviewer and viewers learn that there's often more than meets the eye.
With You and For You
2.2k+ words | angst to fluff | When you're involved in your first shooting, Tim tries to give you the comfort you need. You push him away until you realize why he's there.
Girls' Trip (Plus Tim)
1.3k+ words | fluff | You and Lucy go on a road trip together, but Tim crashes your girls' weekend when the car breaks down.
Creepy, But Special
2.5k+ words | fluff | goth!ME!reader | Tim sees a woman in a cemetery after dark and can't stop thinking about you. When he calls for the M.E. and you arrive, he gets a chance to find out more about you.
Friends from Here
1.7k+ words | fluff | Chen!MP!reader | When you return to the States, Tim Bradford confuses you for your sister Lucy. That night, you realize why he seemed so familiar and gain a new friend.
A Manly Guard Dog
1.2k+ words | fluff | You've been asking your husband for a dachshund, but he tells you that you need a manly dog. When the K9 unit gets a new recruit, Tim reevaluates his view of dachshunds.
A Very Handsome Boy
1.6k+ words | fluff | While you're at a party, your friends mistake a cop for a stripper. He has a way you can make it up to him.
Divorcing Dad
1.5k+ words | fluff/comfort | When your daughter asks Tim if he's getting a divorce, he doesn't know what to say. In the aftermath of the question, you have to comfort both Bradfords.
The Slayers
2.5k+ words | angst to fluff? | Vampires begin attacking people in Los Angeles, and as the chosen one, it's up to you and your partner to stop them.
Home to My Family
1.7k+ words | angst to fluff | After you give birth to twins, they're taken by a nurse for checkups. You soon realize that she's not a nurse, so Tim calls in reinforcements to save your children and catch their abductor.
Party Favors, Bribes, and Sharks
2.0k+ words | fluff | When Tim finally invites you to meet his friends, it takes more than party favors and promises to convince you to go.
Good Luck Charm
1.4k+ words | fluff | At a Dodgers game, you meet Tim Bradford, who thinks you're a good luck charm for the Dodgers.
Only Choice
2.4k+ words | fluff | You and Tim go undercover to catch a serial killer because you're the only choice.
922 notes · View notes
chocopokkie · 5 months
Note
Love your work❤️🩷 Could I request Alastor X Female Reader kissing for the first time since they been together. Starts off slow then intensifies. Can be fluff/spicy
Hi!! Thank you for the request, I really hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it!
Warnings: None?
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"So, toots, you're telling me you and Freaky Face haven't done ANYTHING? Not even KISS?" Angel Dust exclaimed boisterously, his voice reverberating through the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel as you two lounged in the plush seating.
You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at his blunt question. "N-no, that's not true! We... we hold hands!" you hastily defended, your words tumbling out in a rush as you sought to explain the extent of your relationship with Alastor.
Angel Dust let out a raucous laugh, his scarlet eyes glittering with mischief. "Holdin' hands, huh? Real scandalous stuff, toots."
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. "Oh, shut up, Angel. It's not like you're one to talk about romance."
He grinned wickedly, leaning in closer. "Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I know plenty about romance. Just not the kind that involves hand-holding if ya know what I mean."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his irreverent teasing, grateful for the distraction from your own awkwardness. Despite Angel Dust's antics, a warm fondness for your peculiar relationship with Alastor filled your heart. Yes, you wanted more but you didn't know how to voice your desires to him.
"Ok, Angel, what would you do if you were in my situation?" you asked, hoping for some feedback that might help from your friend.
"Oh, what WOULDN'T I do, toots?~" Angel Dust purred in response, a suggestive gleam dancing in his crimson eyes as he leaned closer with a playful grin. You playfully swatted him again, sharing a laugh. It was typical of him to respond with something sexual, and you should have known you'd get an answer like that.
--That night--
You were just about ready to head to bed after a long day, lights turning off when you hear knocking at the door. Who could that be at this hour, you wonder. Slightly annoyed, you flip the lights back on, get out of bed, and answer the door only to see your partner Alastor at the door. "Hello, Cher, I hope I'm not intruding on anything!" Alastor happily exclaims, his voice carrying an eerie cheerfulness as he steps past you, inviting himself into your room. Despite your initial surprise, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his unexpected visit.
"Oh, Alastor! Not at all, make yourself comfortable!" You hastily say, flustered at his surprise appearance. You two have been in a relationship for a while but this is the first time he has been in your room.
Alastor's smile widens, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he saunters further into the room. "Well, well, aren't you the hospitable host!" he chuckles, his voice smooth as velvet.
You can't help but smile at his playful demeanor, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach, being with Alastor always feels like coming home.
You move over to your bed and sit down at the edge, casting a tentative glance towards Alastor who remains standing in the middle of the room. "Soooo, what can I help you with?" you ask, the words tumbling out awkwardly. You've never felt this awkward around Alastor before, except perhaps in those early days when you were still getting to know each other. But there's something different about him right now, something that sets your heart racing and leaves you feeling inexplicably anxious.
Alastor starts stalking towards your position on the bed with an almost predatory grace, his movements fluid yet purposeful. He stands directly in front of you, his presence looming over you, and delicately places a gloved hand on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I just wanted to come and see you, darling," he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety rumble that resonates deep within you. "It's been such a busy day for us both, after all." His words are laced with a hint of longing, a vulnerability that you rarely see in him, and it fills you with a strange mixture of tenderness and apprehension.
He moves gracefully and takes a seat next to you on your bed, his hand still gently caressing your cheek as his gaze remains locked with yours. "And also, maybe I came here to be a little selfish," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of mischief that leaves you intrigued. Selfish? The word hangs in the air, leaving you momentarily perplexed as you try to decipher its meaning. Before you can even process the thought fully, Alastor leans in closer, his eyes closing. His lips meet yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss, catching you completely off guard. What has come over him all of a sudden? In that instant, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sweet rhythm of your shared passion, the world fading away until there is only the two of you, bound together in an electrifying embrace.
The kiss intensifies, and you feel the gentle pressure of Alastor's tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, a silent request for permission that you eagerly grant without hesitation. With a soft sigh of surrender, you part your lips, inviting him in with a newfound sense of urgency. The taste of him, mingled with the heady scent of desire, sends a thrill coursing through your veins.
The kiss was only a minute or two, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. As you break apart, breathless and exhilarated, you can't help but utter a soft "Oh wow," your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. Alastor lets out a breathy chuckle, his crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. "What? Did you like that, cher?" he teases, his voice laced with playful affection. The warmth of his gaze washes over you, and you find yourself smiling in response, unable to contain the swell of happiness that fills your chest.
Oh you couldn't wait to tell Angel Dust about this.
468 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 8 months
Text
Simple Math / Part Six
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.
“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”
Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML. 
That was only an hour ago. 
He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him. 
“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“ 
“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses. 
“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.” 
“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise. 
It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet. 
“I dinnae need-“ 
“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist. 
“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses. 
“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs. 
“Alright.” 
“What’re you doing after this?”
“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?
“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.
“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt. 
“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.
“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”
“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.
Nothing like a seven am beer. 
Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.
“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.
“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.” 
You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.
You were so, so wrong.
“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.
“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.
“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”
“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”
“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”
“No days. You?”
“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”
“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.
“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.
>Make it home from work alright? 
>It’s Johnny, by the way :) 
The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.
“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.
“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.
“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”
“What?”
“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” 
“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” 
Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.
“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”
“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.
“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.
Your beer goes sour in your stomach.
“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.
You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.
By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.
It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines. 
>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!
A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.
>Get some rest.  
The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.
Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.
He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.
Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.
He won’t be your patient anymore. 
He won’t… be your patient anymore. 
The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.
This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery. 
So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright. 
This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake. 
They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you. 
You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own. 
It’s for the best. 
You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.
Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional. 
Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will. 
“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.
“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny. 
“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer. 
“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on? 
“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.
A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.
“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus���… I’m havin’ a bad day.”
“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.
“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face. 
“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.
“Ye think so?”
“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.
“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”
“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.
“Doesnae count. I was high.”
“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”
“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now... 
“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”
“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“
“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?  
You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well. 
"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.
“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.
“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?
“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”
“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number? 
Of course, he knows, he started that group text. 
Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-
“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”
“Y-yeah.”
“We, bunny? We.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?
“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”
“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.
“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”
“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.
“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.
"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.
“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.
Fuck. You’re so fucked. 
Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.  
Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.
Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest. 
He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.
So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.
His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.
>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.
> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?
>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.
>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck. 
Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way. 
>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.
Simon,  Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?  I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to.  You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name.  I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging.  -K.L. 
There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.
Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from? 
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foreingersgod · 5 months
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omg I saw you wrote for pb and I was wondering your take on her comforting a reader who struggles with mental health or anxiety? Tysmia && I love your work !! ❤️🤗
for any of you struggling out there, i’m here with you! if you ever need, my inbox is always open :)
Anxious . PB
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
synopsis: you’ve struggled with anxiety your entire life, but you never told anyone, including paige. during one of your bad anxiety attacks, she finally finds out.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
since you were young, about starting middle school, anxiety controlled the entirety of your life. every decision, every breathe, every moment, anxiety was driving you. it was so suffocating that you fell behind the other kids. you didn’t play sports or join clubs, nor did you hang out with friends because you feared the worst. those voices in your head, that twisted feeling in your gut made life almost unlivable.
when you graduated high school and moved away for college, the anxiety lessened. you think in some ways college helped you find yourself and for a little bit, you were living freely.
in that time, you met your girlfriend paige. you had met her through one of your mutual friends at her birthday party. paige had spotted you from across the room, completely captivated by you. you were beautiful, had the most adorable laugh, and had the most unique style she had seen. she couldn’t help but ask for your number.
the rest was history. you and paige hit it off immediately and became inseparable. when you were with paige, you felt amazing. anxiety was the last thing on your mind. talking to people became easier, leaving your house was no longer scary, life was good. your days of anxiety and panic attacks were well behind you.
but about a year into your relationship, things started to fall apart again. that particular year, you were facing a lot of hardships and it was hard to manage it all. your mother was rushed to the hospital for a minor respiratory problem, she was recovering well, but the financial burden fell to you. school was beginning to pile up as well, it felt like you were drowning in school work. things at your job had been getting worse too, you were understaffed (and underpaid) and practically running the whole place. and on top of that, it was paige’s last year at uconn and she was so stressed about the upcoming season, and you were finding it hard to balance being her support system and the rest of your life.
it was hard.
when things started to go down hill, you felt that familiar feeling creep its way back into your mind. you found that your heart was pounding more and more when you left your cozy apartment, that your thoughts weren’t your own, and that you were always worried about the future. you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function properly at all. but you stayed optimistic, thinking that this would run its course. because you were getting better, right?
you kept all of this from paige. you were worried that she would worry and you didn’t want to make things worse. after all, you had never even told paige about your struggles with anxiety and mental health in the past and you wanted to keep it that way.
on one saturday night in june, one of paige’s teammates hosted a small get together at a quaint little restaurant with the team and their partners. everyone was stoked to see one another and catch up. normally, you would have loved this sort of thing. you used to love those types of settings, but now you were struggling to act excited about it. when paige had told you about the invite, you immediately became apprehensive.
“you excited?” she asked, telling you the details of the event “it’ll be fun”
“stoked” you managed to croak out.
when 6:00 pm rolled around, you were dressed and ready to go. paige was downstairs, keys in hand, awaiting your arrival, but you remained in the bathroom. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to talk yourself down from a panic attack.
you can do this, YN, it’s gonna be ok you told yourself.
“YN!” you heard paige holler from the bottom of the stairs “we’re gonna be late, babe! are you ready?”
touching up your hair and fanning the tears out of your eyes, you rushed out of the bathroom. paige greeted you by the front door with a kiss, hands finding the small of your back and leading you out to her car.
the drive was dreadful. all you could think about was going home, thinking that something was going to go wrong and ruin your night. it had you discretely biting your nails as you looked out the car window. paige, oblivious to your agitated state, was telling you about the restaurant the get together was held at and how she was exited for you to try it. you nodded along, trying to keep yourself distracted.
after a painfully long drive to your destination, you were being escorted to the table where your party sat. you were met with toothy smiles and cheerful greetings from paige’s teammates as you arrived. paige pulled out your chair for you and sat down next to you while conversing with a few of the girls.
you were doing fine at first, only sparking up conversation with a few girls to keep your anxiety at bay. you were managing. even when the waiters began taking orders, you got through it no problem. laughter filled your small corner of the restaurant as everyone joked and talked with each other, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about.
20 minutes passed, discussion was still alive and you were getting through the night like a champ.
until the food was brought out.
the second that plate was sat in front of you, you felt the pace of your heart pick up. you didn’t know what was going on, but for some reason, the thought of eating your food in front of all of these people set you off. you hadn’t had a history of this, normally you didn’t mind eating in public. you assumed it must of been the stress of keeping food down. you stared at the steaming meal in front of you like it was some sort of extraneous creature. just the thought of lifting up the fork had you spiraling about every possible thing that could go wrong.
what if you threw up?
what if the food was raw?
what if everyone saw the way that you were eating? they’ll probably think you look funny.
your eyes welled up at the thought of it all, your head hung low to hide your dampened mood. your legs were bouncing uncontrollably to try and balance your nerves, body practically shaking from fear.
as you attempted to reserve yourself, praying no one would notice. you felt paige’s hand rest itself onto your knee, gripping it gently to halt your bouncing. she tapped the inside of your thigh, leaning in and whispering into your ear.
“hey, what’s the matter baby?” she muttered just enough for you to hear “you’re shaking”
you bit your lip harshly. fuck
you shook your head. it was all you could muster, couldn’t find the ability in your throat to produce any words. the urge to cry out for help gnawed at your chest.
before paige could question any further, you abruptly stood out of you chair. the wooden legs scraping against the black and white tile of the floor. as your back turned, rushing to the bathroom for any sort of isolation, you felt eyes burning in the back of your head. you heard paige call out for you faintly, but it was no use, you couldn’t sit at that table a moment longer.
the bathroom felt miles away as scurried past other tables. tears were streaming down your cheeks, most definitely taking your mascara with it. finally reaching the single occupant bathroom, you shut the door and locked it behind you. you were careless of the germs as you sunk to the bathroom floor in despair. knees hugged close to your chest and head buried into your arms. sobs racked your body and trepidation coursed through your veins. you were losing control of yourself.
out of the blue a knock sounded at the bathroom door. assuming it was another diner of the restaurant, you ignored it hoping they would move along. then you heard her.
“YN, are you in there? are you ok, what the hell is going on?” paige’s voice rang through the door.
“i’m fine” you hiccuped “i’ll be out in a second, i just need to pee is all”
“don’t lie to me” she said “you were shaking and sobbing when you left the table, the hell you just have to pee”
you continued to cry, loud enough for paige to hear.
“baby, please, what can i do? what’s going on, i want to help” she pleaded.
past all the pain your mind was putting you through, you yearned for paige. she made you feel so safe, the whole reason you were able to battle your anxiety in the first place. you didn’t want to rope her into this, but it was far past keeping it a secret now.
with hands still trembling, you unlocked the door and let her in. without wasting a second, she was at your side, locking the door behind her. her arms wrapped around you protectively, rubbing your back to comfort you as you fell to the floor again. she sat with you as you crawled into her. your head tucked into her chest as you cried, tears soaking into her shirt, fingers clinging to the fabric. paige tried to move the hair out of your face to get a better look at you.
“you’re scaring me, YN” a worried expression washed across her face “what can i do? who do i have to fight, huh?”
she tried to cheer you up, accepting defeat once you cried harder.
“i-i don’t-” you were struggling to speak still “i don’t even know where to start paige!”
she pulled you closer to her chest “just try baby, take your time. i’m right here with you, we’ve got all the time in the world ok. just get it all out, you’re safe”
and that was all it took for you to completely break down if front of your girlfriend. every detail from the last few days, from your past, everything about your anxiety came spilling out.
“before i met you, i had chronic anxiety. like so bad i could barely leave the house. then i moved away for school and it got better, and when i met you it pretty much went away. but you know with my mom? and school and work and now you’re in your last season with your team? it’s just been getting to me and the anxiety has started to get worse again. i can’t eat or sleep right and i feel like i’ve been losing my fucking mind, paige”
she was such an amazing listener, sitting there on the dirty bathroom floor as her girlfriend bawled into her shoulder. the whole time her eyes were glued to you, gentle fingers carefully wiping your tears away.
“why didn’t you tell me all of this? tell me about the eating and the sleeping? YN, it makes me sick imagining you going through all this alone”
“because i didn’t want you to worry and i was too embarrassed to say anything”
“well i’m worried now” she said “and embarrassed? baby…”
“i know, it’s silly, but i was just scared you’d think of me less if you knew what a mess i am when i get anxiety like this”
“i could never think less of you. ever. please know that”
“but i-”
“no, listen” she interrupted “just because you struggle with your mental health or have a hard time dealing with your anxiety doesn’t mean i’ll think anything less of you. you’re my whole world. this life and in the next, you’re my entire soul. i want nothing more than to be here for you and to help you overcome things like this. if anything, it only proves to me how strong you are and how i’m so lucky to have a girl who’s able to get through all this”
you sniffled, tears stopping as she continued “i love you, more than you know. and i’m sorry you felt like you needed to do this on your own”
you really had the best girlfriend out there. someone who loves you even through your own insecurities.
“i love you so much” you kissed her with your lips salty from the tears “thank you for being here, i don’t know what i’d do without you”
“get through all this just the same because that’s how strong you are. i’m just here to help in anyway you need” paige leaned in for another kiss, this time deeper, strong hands cradling your jaw “how about i go tell the team you’re not feeling well and we’ll go back home, eat some ice cream and watch anything you want?”
you nodded, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm “even new girl?”
“yea baby, even new girl”
moments later, you were back in the comfort of your home. snuggled in bed next to paige, bowls of ice cream on your lap, the tv buzzing in the background.
you could finally breathe again, you just needed your girl.
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gghostwriter · 1 month
Note
Hiya! :D
Since askbox is open, may I please order some slight hurt-comfort based off of "From Eden" by Hozier? Harnessing the pure longing this song emanates to me fr.
Something like non-BAU!reader getting hurt by an unsub during a case (non-lethal but it does require a stitch or two) and spencer gets abnormally worried about this one person among the group of victims (maybe serial bank robberies) and when the team notices it and ask him about it he reveals to them that they're actually his roommate?
something romantic-leaning; I just like the idea of him standing outside the hospital room door [OMG LIKE THE SONG] because the doctors told him to wait before he could go inside sitting there like 🥺 "My roommate :(" and getting embarassed when the team calls reader his partner; "You're so worried it's almost like you're dating." sort of feel
Sorry if this is long btw! I tend to go all out on ideas! Pronouns are up to you though, feel free to change anything to your liking as well! :]
Thanks for reading! :D
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Roommates; Comfort, Fluff, Angst w.c: 1.2k A/N: There's so much interpretation for 'From Eden by Hozier' and I had a challenging time trying to capture which meaning I wanted to encapsulate. This is also by far the longest request I've written and honestly this took a life of its own but I still hope you like it! Main masterlist
Eden. // Spencer Reid
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The monotone droll in the bank was white noise in your life that you learned to slowly hate. Day in, day out it was the same thing—customers withdrawing, depositing, and claiming loans. You liked numbers, that was how you ended up as a manager, but the cookie cutter business smile you had to keep on your face was a con you wish to part from. 
You sighed. Your roommate turned secret crush, Dr. Spencer Reid, had warned you about the serial robberies that had happened within the state of Virginia and Washington. He advised you to be vigilant and if possible, to keep your phone within your reach and you easily agreed having heard some of the macabre cases he’d been involved in.
You just didn’t think it would happen today.
“Get down on the ground!” A man’s voice echoed throughout the lobby, followed by a series of gunshots.
Spencer’s voice played in your head as if he was a lighthouse guiding you out from the panic. Hide. Don’t panic. Press the hidden alarm and dial my number.
You thanked your past self for programming his contact on speed dial. Volume down and no words uttered, you hid the phone inside your blouse hoping to not get caught.
“You there!” One of the masked men caught sight of you. “Outside. Now!”
You nodded, averting your eyes to show submission. Another tactic from Spencer.
Wishing the call picked up the trio of robbers voices, you stayed facing down on the lobby surround by the rest of the hostages.
Spencer, please. Please, get my message.
Just a few miles away, tension was high in the BAU conference room. The round table littered with folders and cooling coffee mugs. The team was running on a mixture of caffeine and sheer will to solve the serial bank robber case, tagged as priority by Strauss, that had been terrorizing states for a span of months. 
Spencer raked his already unruly hair. So far, the profile was incomplete. They knew there were three in the team but with varying heights and builds in various crime scenes, even that was shaky. What they were sure of was the sick game of Russian roulette they would play with their hostages, always with one bullet in a revolver and who ever is unlucky, dies with a hole between their brows and the remaining hostages are pistol whipped to unconsciousness. 
He knew he should stay objective. He knew that but how could he, when who he considers as his secret flower was at risk every second the unsubs were at large? It was his mission to keep you safe and the chances of you being caught in the line of fire heightened each second.
Vibration from his pocket brought him out of his musings. 
It was you. Right there and then, Spencer knew it was anything but good. You never called during work hours and with the last conversation between you having been about safety, it had settled in his stomach that the worst reality had come to fruition.
He picked up without saying a word, straining his ears to hear any distinguishable background noise. That was when he heard it—the authoritative, cocky voice yelling at you to come outside. His heart dropped. 
No. No. No. Anything but this.
“Sir, we just got a call,” Penelope rushed into the conference room. “There’s a live hostage taking at—”
“—Commerce Bank. 125 Independence Boulevard,” Reid interjected.
The profilers shared a look.
“That’s right,” Penelope muttered.
Morgan raised an eyebrow at him as he hurriedly stood up and collected his belongings. “Wait Reid—” causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to face back at the team. “—How’d you know?”
“Because Y/N works there,” he promptly exits the room, hightailing it to the elevator.
Emily looked at JJ. “Who’s that?”
She shrugged, lost too on who you were.
———
The team had split into two vehicles. Hotch, Rossi, and Reid in one while Morgan Emily, and JJ in the other.
Rossi glanced at Hotch, communicating the tension Reid was releasing from the passenger seat. In turn, Hotch sneaks a peek via the rear view mirror and profiles Reid’s ticks—hands clasped tight together, right leg shaking up and down, eyes shifting from left to right, and deep breaths through the nose and mouth. 
“Reid,” he called out.
Blown wide doe eyes meet his. “Hm?”
“We need you to stay focused. If you can’t do that, I’ll pull you out of this case.”
“I—I can do it!” His voice cracking.
“Are you sure, kid?” Rossi clarified.
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s just she’s my—” roommate but that singular title wasn’t fitting to describe who you were to him. No classification was good enough, really. “—I can focus,” he declared. 
There was a series of looks exchanged between the two senior agents. They didn’t need to be seasoned profilers to understand that their youngest is one slip away from panic.
Hotch sighed. “Alright, Reid, but you follow my orders. Got it?”
“Yes.” 
———
Einstein’s theory of special relativity was what came to mind as he paced outside your hospital room. The physicist implied that time moves relative to the observer. An object moving very fast experiences time more slowly than in rest and that was exactly what he felt as he paces back and forth outside your room, desperately waiting for any update—the good or the bad. Everyone seemed to be moving at a leisure pace while he, Dr. Spencer Reid, hangs on the precipice of elation and despair. 
The team had sent him away, to you specifically, when it was obvious that his otherwise objective mind was of no help in finishing up the case. Was it dreadful of him that he felt relief course through his veins when it wasn’t you that got the short end of the stick during the unsubs’ Russian Roulette? Yes, possibly but he was only human. A being filled with conundrums and good vs evil. 
The impact of today was eye opening. He could no longer deny to himself that you were more than just a roommate or an acquaintance or a friend. Oh, how hard he tried so hard to push away any thought that seemed any less innocent or chivalrous, but the idea of seeing those beautiful eyes broken and in pain made him want to face the truth. The truth being how deliriously in love Spencer Reid was with you. 
His phone rang, disturbing his mind-altering revelation thoughts.
“Hey kid,” It was Morgan. “How is she?”
Reid licked his lips, eyes trained on the still closed door. “I—I haven’t seen her. The doctors are still inside and I’m still here—outside.” 
“I know this isn’t the time but should we know who she is?” A pause. “Girlfriend?”
“No. No, she’s my roommate,” his sigh coated in despair, murky and sad enough for Morgan to notice.
“You sounded so worried. It’s almost like you’re in love with her or something.”
“I am—” your door opened. “I have to go, Morgan,” he hung up before another word could be uttered.
“Are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” The female doctor asked.
He nodded.
She smiled. “She’ll see you now.”
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