#the mental walk of shame I’ll be taking for the next few days…

[cheynovak]

Healing Bonds  

Dean Winchester x F/Reader Y/N   

Warnings: 18+, Emotional damage, sexual tension, smut, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

I didn’t proofread, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.  

-- 

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

-- 

After an ugly fight with Sam, Dean decides to take a few days for himself and wounds up at Jody’s place. She introduced him to Y/N a work friend, Y/N is the new psychologist in town, who Jody working on a few cases together. 

Dean is hesitant to accept her help but can he resist her charm?  

--  

Dean’s boots crunched against the gravel as he approached Jody Mills' doorstep. The drive had been long, filled with the echoes of the fight he had with his brother. It felt like betrayal, leaving him alone. But Dean couldn’t stay holed up in the bunker any longer.  

Jody greeted him with a warm embrace, “There he is!” her motherly presence a balm to his troubled soul. She ushered him inside, concern etched into the lines of her face. Dean tried to mask his turmoil, but Jody saw through the facade with the sharp eyes of someone who had weathered many storms. 

“Dean,” she began gently, “I can see it in your eyes. What’s wrong?” - “Nothing, he tried to brush it off.” Her face let him know without any words she didn’t believe him.  

He shrugged his shoulder, avoiding her gaze. “Just a little disagreement with Sam. We’ll sort it out.” Jody didn’t press further, knowing Dean’s reluctance to open up. Instead, she steered the conversation towards lighter topics, hoping to ease the weight that hung between them. 

As Dean volunteer to help her with the dishes she saw an opportunity. “I know someone who might be able to help,” Jody said tentatively, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over them like a shroud. 

Dean arched an eyebrow in question, his interest piqued despite himself. “Help with what?” 

“Your mental health, Dean,” Jody said softly. “I can see the toll this is taking on you. And I’m worried.” 

Dean’s defences went up immediately, his pride wounded by the implication that he couldn’t handle his own problems. “I don’t need a shrink, Jody. I’m fine.” But Jody wasn’t one to be swayed by bravado.  

“Dean, there’s no shame in seeking help when you need it. This psychologist, Dr. Y/L/N, she’s helped a lot of people deal with their demons. And I know she can help you too.” 

Dean scoffed, the bitterness of his resentment bubbling to the surface. “You think talking to some shrink is gonna fix everything? It’s not that simple, Jody.” 

“Maybe not,” Jody conceded, her voice steady with conviction. “But it’s a start. And you owe it to yourself to try.” He kept shaking his head, “I fight demons every day, the ones in my head are the least of my worries.”  

Jody watched him retreat, his footsteps echoing the weight of his burden with each resolute stride. She knew she couldn’t force him, but she refused to give in so easily.  

As Dean disappeared into the night for a walk, Jody busied herself with the remnants of their dinner. Thinking she had seen Dean weather countless storms, his resilience a testament to the strength that lay beneath his rough exterior. 

But this time he looked vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. With a heavy sigh, Jody reached for her phone, her fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device. 

It rang twice before a familiar voice answered, warm and comforting "Hey, Jody. What’s up?" Y/N’s voice filled the silence. "Hey, sweetheart," Jody said, her voice tinged with a weariness she couldn’t shake. "I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night. I thought maybe we could have dinner together." 

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Jody are you ok? Is this a work thing or do you need someone to...” Jody quickly interfered “Oh no, no, nothing is wrong, just a dinner invitation.”  

"Of course, Jody," Y/N replied, her voice soft with empathy. "I’ll be there." 

As Jody hung up the phone, a flicker of hope ignited within her chest.  

The next night 

When Jody arrived home, her weary eyes softened at the sight before her. “Dean," she began gently, her voice a soothing balm to the ache that lingered in his soul. "What’s all this?" 

“I thought since you worked all day I could help around here. So, I made dinner.” He smiled like a little kid surprising his mom on mother's day. “Thats great, but we do need an extra plate.”  

Dean looked quizzed, “Y/N a work friend is joining us.” She smiles without giving much explanation. ”Do you want me to leave?” He asked. “Oh no, you’ll love her.” 

The bell rings Jody answers the door while Dean takes care of the table. 

As Jody ushered Y/N into the room, Dean's eyes flickered up from his plate, his gaze meeting hers in a moment of quiet appraisal. She looked like the typical rich girl next door.  

Her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, her outfit simple yet elegant in its understated charm. She was cute, he supposed, in a wholesome sort of way. A little nerdy, a little basic but cute. 

As Jody introduced them, she smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she extended a hand in greeting. 

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N," Dean said, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth that surprised even him. "The pleasure is all mine," Y/N replied, her tone genuine and kind as she returned his handshake with a gentle squeeze. 

As they settled into dinner, the conversation didn’t flow easily. An awkward silence hung heavy in the air.  

Y/N took a bite of the meal, her eyes widening in delight as she savoured the flavours that danced across her palate. "This is delicious," she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "You're quite the chef, Jody." 

Jody smiled, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she exchanged a knowing glance with Dean. "Actually, Dean made it," she replied, her voice tinged with pride. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flickering to Dean with newfound appreciation. "Really?" she exclaimed. Dean shrugged, a hint of color rising to his cheeks at the unexpected praise. "Just trying to do my part," he mumbled, his voice tinged with modesty. 

While Jody opened a conversation with Dean which quickly turned to the familiar territory of cases and hunts, Dean's shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching with a palpable tension that hung in the air like a storm on the horizon.  

His eyes flickered over to Y/N, to warn Jody. "Y/N knows about the supernatural," she said to ease him. Dean's eyes widened in surprise, She does?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. 

Jody nodded, "Yes, Dean, I eh, helped her a few months ago with a shifter problem." Y/N smiled softly looking at her plate. “In return I see Claire and Alex monthly in my practice.”  

“P-practice?” Dean echoed, “Yeah, I’m a psychologist.” Dean’s eyes grew wide while he excused himself, asking if Jody could follow him to the kitchen. Not knowing Y/N would hear every word.  

“What is this Jody?” He asked with a slight anger in his voice. "You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Dean," she said softly. "You have people who care about you, people who can help." 

Dean's defences went up immediately, his instinct to protect those he cared about kicking into overdrive. "I can handle it, Jody," he insisted, his voice tight with emotion. "I always have." 

But Jody wasn't one to be swayed by bravado. "I know you can, Dean," she replied gently. "But that doesn’t mean it would be a bad thing to see a professional." 

 

Dean felt a surge of anger bubble up within him. He had always prided himself on his ability to shoulder the burden of his own struggles, to face the demons that haunted his mind.  

Jody watched him carefully, her eyes soft with concern as she sensed the storm that raged within his soul. "Dean," she began gently. But before she could finish her sentence. 

Dean's temper flared, his voice laced with venom as he lashed out with words born from pain and bitterness. "I don't need some shrink poking around in my head, Jody," he spat, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I'm not broken, okay? I'm fine." 

His anger consuming him like a wildfire as he unleashed a torrent of pent-up frustration upon the woman who had become like a mother to him. "You think you know what's best for me, don't you?" he seethed, his voice rising with each word.  

"Well, newsflash, Jody—I don't need your pity, and I sure as hell don't need some quack telling me how to live my life." And with that, he stormed out of the kitchen. 

Alone at the table, Y/N listened in stunned silence. Dean's steps faltered as he emerged from the kitchen, his eyes meeting Y/N's across the room.  

And for a moment, he felt a flicker of shame wash over him—a realization of the hurtful words he had unleashed in a moment of anger. Without a word he reached for his coat and stepped out into the cool night air.  

Y/N and Jody heard the engine of the impala roar as he drove off in the night.  

-- 

As Jody and Y/N sat together in the quiet of the living room, the weight of Dean's turmoil heavy upon their hearts, Jody took a deep breath. She knew that Y/N would be able to understand the complexities of Dean's behaviour, the layers of pain and fear that lay beneath the surface of his bravado. 

"Y/N," Jody began gently, her voice tinged with compassion, "Dean's... you have to understand... he's been through a lot. He's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and sometimes, it's hard for him to see past his own pain." 

Y/N nodded in understanding, her expression thoughtful as she processed Jody's words. "I get that, Jody," she replied softly. "But if he doesn't want help, there's only so much we can do." 

Jody sighed, her heart heavy with the truth of Y/N's words. "I know," she admitted ruefully. "But that doesn't mean we stop trying. Dean may be stubborn, but maybe if I keep trying, he'll come around." 

"I'll do whatever I can to help, Jody," she said earnestly. "But ultimately, the decision is up to Dean. We can't force him.” Jody smiled softly, grateful for Y/N's unwavering support. "Thank you, Y/N," she said sincerely. 

-- 

The familiar growl of Baby echoing through the stillness of the night. Led Zeppelin blared from the speakers, the raw energy of the music a perfect match for the storm of emotions raging within him.  

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles white with tension, as he navigated the empty streets with a single-minded determination.  

Damn it, Jody, he thought bitterly, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. How could she do this to him? How could she put him on the spot like that, inviting Y/N over without even asking him first? It felt like a betrayal. 

But as he drove through the darkness, his thoughts tumbling in a chaotic whirlwind of anger and frustration, Dean couldn't shake the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, Jody was right.  

Maybe he did need help, maybe he couldn't do this alone anymore. But the mere thought of opening up to someone, of laying bare the darkest corners of his soul for all to see, filled him with a sense of dread so profound it threatened to swallow him whole. 

He pounded his fist against the steering wheel, the sound echoing through the car like a gunshot in the night. "Damn it, Dean," he muttered to himself, his voice thick with self-loathing. "Get it together." 

The town was cloaked in darkness as Dean parked Baby along the deserted street, the soft hum of the engine fading into the stillness of the night. He stepped out into the cool night air, the faint scent of rain lingering on the breeze as he made his way towards a nearby bench. 

He sank onto the wooden seat, the weight of his exhaustion settling upon him like a heavy blanket. Hours of driving had done little to quiet the storm of emotions that raged within him. 

Dean’s mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as he sat on the bench, lost in the labyrinth of his own turmoil. The sound of a car pulled him from his thoughts. 

He glanced up to see Y/N's car pulling up beside him. He watched as she rolled down the window, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow. she called out softly, her voice carrying on the night breeze. "Are you okay?" 

Dean's initial reaction was defensive, “Just need some time alone sugar.” He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening as he met Y/N's concerned eyes. 

Y/N's expression faltered at his response, "Okay," she said softly, her voice tinged with understanding. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I know a bar nearby..." 

Dean's walls wavered for a moment, a pang of guilt tightening his chest at the warmth in Y/N's offer. But before he could respond, his defences snapped back into place, his pride wounded by the vulnerability of her gesture. 

"Yeah, thanks," he muttered gruffly, “But I’m not one of your patients.”  

Y/N looked at him for a second, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ”Well, I never said you were, besides, I don’t meet my patients in bars.” she rolled up the window and drove away. Alone once more, Dean felt a pang of regret twist in his chest.  

Only to see her parking her car down the road. “Are you coming?” She yelled while standing on the side of the road waving.  

-- 

He and Y/N stepped into the dimly lit bar, the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses filling the air as they made their way to the counter. Dean's senses were assaulted by the familiar scent of whiskey and beer, the rhythmic beat of the music pulsing through the room like a steady heartbeat. 

Dean ordered their drinks, a whiskey for himself and a beer for Y/N. As they settled into an easy rhythm of conversation, the tension of earlier dissipating in the warmth of their shared company. Their shoulders brushing against each other every so often.  

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Dean found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't in months, the weight of his troubles easing with each sip of whiskey.  

And as he glanced over at Y/N, she did something unexpected, something that caught Dean off guard in the best possible way. She took off the jumper she was wearing only to reveal a white tank top.  

Dean's eyes widened slightly as Y/N leaned back, to reach up and let down her hair, the soft strands cascading around her shoulders.  

The movement causing her shirt to shift just so, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage beneath. For a moment, his breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected sight before him. 

Mesmerized by her transformation, Dean couldn't help but feel a rush of heat flood his cheeks as he took in the sight of her. Gone was the shy, boring girl he had seen before, replaced instead by a woman with a seductive charm that left him utterly captivated. 

His gaze lingering on the gentle curve of her neckline, the soft swell of her breasts barely concealed beneath the fabric of her shirt. It was a subtle change, yet one that spoke volumes.  

As Dean's gaze lingered on Y/N's curves, his mind began to wander into forbidden territory, a rush of heat flooding his body as he entertained thoughts that had no place in their current conversation. He cleared his throat, attempting to push the inappropriate thoughts aside, but they stubbornly refused to be ignored. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asked seeing how Dean took a big sip. With a nervous chuckle, Dean leaned back against the bar, his voice laced with a hint of teasing as he attempted to lighten the mood.  

"You know, if I had a doctor as hot as you," he remarked with a playful grin, "I wouldn't mind scheduling weekly appointments." He immediately regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, a pang of guilt twisting in his chest at the realization of how inappropriate his comment had been.  

But before he could apologize, he saw the twinkle in Y/N's eyes, the playful glint that mirrored his own. She laughed softly, her cheeks tinted with a faint blush as she met his gaze with a knowing smile. "Careful, Dean," she replied, her voice tinged with amusement.  

"You might just end up needing therapy after all." His mouth went dry as she raised the bottle of beer to her lips, the cool glass pressing against her skin as she took a slow, deliberate sip. 

His gaze locked onto her lips, watching in silent fascination as they parted to allow the amber liquid to trickle down her throat, the movement hypnotic in its grace and sensuality. 

His breath caught in his throat as he imagined what it would feel like to taste the beer on her lips, to feel the warmth of her mouth against his own. "Yeah, you might be right about that," he whispered.  

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins as she savoured the delicious tension that crackled between them. For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world, lost in their own private bubble.  

But just as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, broken by the sound of the bartender calling last call. Dean glanced at the clock, realizing with a start how late it had gotten. 

"Well, I guess that's our cue to call it a night," he said reluctantly. Y/N nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she slid off her stool.  

Dean walked Y/N to the wall outside the bar, their footsteps echoing in the quiet of the night as they came to a stop beneath the flickering streetlight.  

His heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at her, a mixture of longing and hesitation swirling in his gaze. “Let me drive you home.” 

As Y/N declined Dean's offer, insisting that her place was just a block away and she would walk, Dean felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him.  

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he fell into step beside her, his footsteps matching hers with an easy rhythm. "I don't mind giving you a ride. It's late, and you never know what kind of creeps might be lurking around." 

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes warm with gratitude as she reached out to gently squeeze his arm. "I appreciate the offer, Dean," she replied, her voice tinged with amusement. "But I can take care of myself. Besides, a little late-night stroll never hurt anyone." 

"Okay, but if you need anything, you call me, alright?" he repeated softly, his voice tinged with emotion as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. 

Y/N nodded, her eyes locked on his, her breath catching in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.  

"I will," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

And then, before she could say anything else, Dean leaned in closer, his lips gliding over hers in a silent caress. It wasn't a kiss, not really, just the barest brush of skin against skin, the faintest hint of warmth mingling between them. 

As Dean's lips hovered tantalizingly close to Y/N's, she felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her. But before she could voice her hesitation, Dean pulled away slightly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of regret or uncertainty. 

"It's not a good idea," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to articulate the thoughts that raced through her mind. "It's... inappropriate." 

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, his expression clouded with uncertainty as he tried to make sense of her words. “I'm not your patient, Y/N" he protested softly, his voice tinged with hurt. 

Y/N shook her head, her gaze pleading as she reached out to gently touch his arm. "It's not that," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's... we're both... we're both too drunk. We might regret it later." 

Dean's heart sank at Y/N's words, a wave of hurt crashing over him as he struggled to process the implication behind her hesitation. He felt a surge of anger rise within him, his defences springing up in response.  

"Why?" he demanded, his voice tinged with bitterness as he met her gaze with a steely resolve. "Is it because I'm a lost cause? A fuck-up? Traumatized beyond repair?" 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his outburst, her own emotions swirling in a tumultuous whirlwind of regret and frustration. "No, Dean, that's not what I meant," she protested, her voice trembling with emotion. 

But Dean wasn't listening, the weight of his own insecurities pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket. "I get it," he muttered bitterly, his gaze flickering away as he turned to walk away. "I'm just a broken mess, right? Not worth anyone's time or affection." 

“You had time to study me in that bar right? That’s it.” Y/N's heart twisted with guilt at his words, "Dean, please," she pleaded, reaching out to grab his arm and turn him back towards her. "That's not what I meant at all." 

But Dean shrugged off her touch, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing alone in the darkness.  

-- 

The next morning, Jody found Dean sitting at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on a cup of coffee. She raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she poured herself a cup, taking a seat across from him. 

"Late night?" she asked with a smile, her tone light and teasing. 

Dean nodded, his expression unreadable as he took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah," he replied quietly. 

Jody's smile faltered as she noticed the tension in his demeanor, a frown creasing her brow as she studied him intently. "Everything okay?" she asked gently, concern lacing her words. 

Dean hesitated for a moment, "I'm not sure," he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. Jody's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" she pressed, her concern growing by the second. 

"I think I might have hurt her," he confessed, “Who?" she asked softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. Dean shook his head, his gaze distant as he recounted the events of the previous night. “Y/N”  

“Y/N? No, I spoke with her, she said she is willing to help you if you are ready, she won’t push you into therapy.” Dean looked at her. “I saw her after diner, we eh, had a drink at the bar.”  

“Oh.” was all Jody could say. "I said some things," he admitted ruefully, his voice heavy with remorse. "Things I didn't mean."- “Why don’t you go talked to her?" she asked gently, her voice filled with compassion. 

Dean just nodded still looking at his coffee.  

--  

Y/N stood in her office, the faint sound of her patient's footsteps echoing through the room as he made his way out. She rubbed her temples, her head throbbing with the remnants of a hangover from the previous night. It had been a rough morning. 

As she glanced up, her gaze fell upon Dean standing in the waiting room, a hesitant expression on his face. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, a rush of conflicting emotions swirling within her.  

Part of her wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and beg for forgiveness. But another part hesitated, afraid of what his presence might mean. 

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever might come next, before making her way out to greet him.  

"Dean," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers with a mixture of hope and apprehension. "Hey," he replied. 

Y/N studied him for a moment, taking in the lines of exhaustion etched into his features, ”Everything ok?” She asked calm and professional.  

Dean seemed to choose his next words carefully. He interpreted her calmness as a boundary. “I eh, I think I want an appointment.” Y/N's heart sank at Dean's unexpected request, a surge of hurt and disappointment welling up inside her.  

She had hoped for reconciliation, "An appointment?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to make sense of his words. 

Dean nodded, his expression serious as he met her gaze with unwavering resolve. "Yeah," he replied evenly. "I think it's time I talked to someone about... everything." 

“Yeah sure. Eh, how about tomorrow around four?” Dean nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Ok, I’ll eh, I’ll be here.” - “Great.” Y/N said trying to hold back her sad sigh.  

As Y/N sat alone in her office during lunch, her thoughts swirling with a whirlwind of emotions, she couldn't shake the memory of the night before,the tension, the longing, the almost kiss that had hung between them like a fragile thread waiting to be broken. 

She knew she should be happy that Dean wanted to open up to her in a professional way, to seek help for the demons that haunted him day and night. And yet, a part of her couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the missed opportunity. 

Closing her eyes, Y/N took a deep breath, willing herself to push aside the thoughts and feelings, she had to focus on the present and the future, the opportunity to support Dean in whatever way he needed.  

-- 

As the clock struck four, Dean found himself standing outside her office, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation that lay ahead.  

As he walked in her waiting room she just let out the last patient before him. ”Dean” she smiles soft, “Come on in.”  

Dean shifted uncomfortably on Y/N's couch, feeling out of place in the unfamiliar surroundings of her office. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty as he struggled to find words. 

"I... I don't really know how this works," he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Y/N nodded understandingly, her gaze warm and compassionate as she met his eyes. "That's okay, Dean," she reassured him gently. "There's no right or wrong way to do this. Just take your time, and say whatever comes to mind." 

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Okay," he said slowly, his voice thick with emotion. "I guess... I guess I should start with Sam." 

Y/N nodded encouragingly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a good place to start," she replied softly. "Tell me about your brother." 

As Dean delved into his memories of growing up with Sam, his words flowed freely, each one carrying a weight of emotion that had long been buried beneath the surface.  

He spoke of their childhood, marked by loss after their mother's death, and the relentless training they endured at the hands of their father. 

"We were raised as soldiers," Dean murmured, his voice tinged with both pride and sorrow. "From the moment Mom died, Dad made sure we knew how to defend ourselves, how to survive in a world filled with monsters and demons." 

“It was my job to look out for Sam.” He looked at his hands. “So I did...” he smirks “I still do.” Y/N could see there was more to it than he talked about, but she kept quiet and nodded to him to keep talking. 

"I'm proud of Sam," Dean confessed, a hint of awe in his voice. "He's smart, you know? Smarter than I ever was. He could stand his ground against Dad, I never could, I eh, I always obeyed him.”  

"It sounds like you and Sam have been through a lot together," she remarked softly, her voice gentle and understanding. Dean nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "We have." 

When Y/N gently probed Dean about his rift with Sam, he felt a pang of discomfort tighten in his chest. "I left Sam for a while," he admitted, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and defiance. "We had a fight. It... it got ugly." 

Y/N nodded, her expression sympathetic as she reached out to offer him a comforting smile. "Do you want to talk more about that?" she asked softly, her tone gentle and non-judgmental. 

But Dean shook his head, his gaze flickering away as he struggled to find the right words. "Not right now," he replied quietly, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Maybe... maybe another time." 

Y/N nodded understandingly, respecting his boundaries as she shifted the conversation to safer territory. They spoke of hunting. The thrill of the chase, the rush of adrenaline, the satisfaction of knowing that they were making the world a safer place, one monster at a time. 

And as the session came to an end, Dean felt a sense of relief wash over him. He looked up at Y/N realising he had been looking at his hands and feet this whole time.  

“Same time next week?” She asked careful. Dean nodded before walking out the door, Y/N followed closely. He stopped abruptly and turned, his heart skipping a beat as he nearly collided with Y/N who was just about to leave her office. 

Their eyes met, a charged silence falling between them as they stood there, inches apart. Dean towered over her, his gaze intense as he searched her face. But all he found was a warmth that mirrored his own a connection that pulsed between them, drawing them closer with each passing moment.  

For a heartbeat, they stood there together, suspended in time and space, their hearts racing in tandem. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, broken by the sound of Dean's voice as he spoke softly. 

"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything." 

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes shining with warmth and understanding. "You're welcome," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Seeing how Dean turned around and walked out.  

-- 

As the weeks passed, Dean continued to show up to his appointments with Y/N, each session bringing them closer together as they delved deeper into the depths of his past that haunted him. 

With each passing week, Y/N caught glimpses of the man behind the mask—the vulnerability and pain that lay hidden beneath his tough exterior.  

And as their connection deepened, so too did their longing for each other, a silent undercurrent that pulsed between them with every shared glance and fleeting touch.  

They danced around the edges of their feelings, each too afraid to take that final leap into the unknown, too afraid of what it might mean for their fragile relationship. 

But last night, as Y/N drifted off to sleep, she found herself lost in a dream.  

A dream of Dean walking into her office, his eyes dark with desire as he crossed the room to stand before her. And then, without a word, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, his lips meeting hers in a heated kiss that left her breathless and wanting more. 

As she woke from the dream, her heart pounding in her chest, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that lingered on her lips, the memory of Dean's touch still fresh in her mind, as if it had been real.  

During their session, that day Y/N found herself unable to focus on Dean, her thoughts consumed by the vivid memory of her dream. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she struggled to regain her composure. 

Dean noticed her distraction, his brow furrowing in concern as he reached out to gently touch her arm. "Hey, is everything okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. 

Y/N hesitated, her gaze flickering away as she tried to find the right words. But before she could respond, Dean spoke again, his tone gentle yet firm. 

"Maybe... maybe you need some time off," he suggested, his eyes searching hers with unwavering intensity. "You seem... distracted. And I don't want to add to your stress." 

“It’s my job Dean, I’m fine, just had a bad night.” Dean’s eyes searched hers. "How about dinner?" he suggested, his voice tinged with warmth. "With me, Jody, and the girls. We could use a night off, don't you think?" 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the invitation, a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. "I would love that," she replied.  

-- 

Dean worked in the kitchen, preparing the dish he knew Y/N liked, the scent of savoury spices and herbs filled the air, mingling with the warm aroma of home-cooked food. Meanwhile, Claire and Alex bustled around the dining room, setting the table and arranging the plates and silverware with meticulous care. 

As they worked, they overheard Jody's comment "Dean, you’re smelling really good, But, eh, I’m sure Y/N will be impressed just by your food.” She joked.  

Claire and Alex couldn't help but exchange a knowing look, a silent acknowledgment of the budding attraction between their mom’s friend and the ruggedly handsome hunter. 

Claire smirked mischievously at Alex, a twinkle of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Looks like someone's got a crush," she teased, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Alex rolled her eyes playfully, but couldn't hide the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, well, can you blame Y/N ?" she replied with a smirk of her own. "Dean's not exactly hard on the eyes." 

As Y/N walked into the room, all dressed up for the dinner, Dean's breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. She looked stunning, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with warmth and laughter. 

For a moment, Dean was speechless, his gaze locked on her with a mixture of awe and admiration. He couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't find the words to express the rush of emotions that surged through him at the sight of her. 

Y/N smiled shyly, a blush rising to her cheeks under the intensity of Dean's gaze. 

"Hi," she said softly, her voice tinged with nervousness. "Hi," Dean replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure as he gestured towards the table. "Dinner's almost ready." 

They sat down to dinner, Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from Y/N, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of awe and longing. He watched as she closed her eyes, tasting the flavours of his dish, a flush of heat spreading through him at the sight of her enjoyment. 

Dean focused all his attention on Y/N. He watched the way her lips curved into a smile as she savoured each bite, the way her eyes lit up with delight at the flavors dancing on her tongue. 

He felt like a teenager again, head over heels in love for the first time.  

As the dinner progressed, Jody pulled out the liquor, pouring drinks for everyone as they settled into conversation. Y/N engaged Claire in a discussion about hunting, asking questions and listening intently to her experiences, while also inquiring about Alex's work at the hospital.  

But no matter who she was talking to, her eyes kept wandering back to Dean, locking with his every few seconds. 

Dean, now feeling the effects of the alcohol, grew bolder with his looks. He couldn't help but feel like he was eye-fucking Y/N, his gaze lingering on her longer than necessary, his heart racing with a heady mix of desire and anticipation. 

Sensing the tension between Dean and Y/N, Jody glanced between them with a knowing smile. "Alright, you two," she said casually, rising from her seat. "Why don't you kids help me in the kitchen for a bit?" 

Claire and Alex exchanged a quick glance, catching on to Jody's subtle hint, before nodding in agreement and following her lead.  

Unable to resist any longer, Dean leaned in closer to Y/N, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke. "You know, you look absolutely stunning tonight," he murmured, his words laced with a raw intensity that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. 

Dean looked back at the kitchen noticing how the three women were listening to them. “Want to go outside for a bit?” Y/N immediately understood him.  

They stepped out onto the porch, the cool night air washing over them as they looked out into the darkness of the woods. A quiet serenity settled around them, broken only by the sound of their breathing.  

Feeling the weight of Dean's presence behind her, Y/N leaned back slightly, her body instinctively seeking his warmth and comfort. She felt his hands gently settle on her shoulders, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. 

And then, in a voice filled with raw emotion, Dean spoke, his words echoing in the stillness of the night. "I can't stop thinking about you," he murmured softly, his breath warm against her ear, kissing the sensitive spot behind it. 

As Dean's words hung in the air, Y/N felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart as she grappled with the weight of his confession. 

"This is wrong," she whispered, but Dean's response was immediate, his voice filled with determination. "You've said that before," he murmured softly, his breath heavy, placing kisses on her neck. "But I know what I want, Y/N.” he said in between kisses “And I want you." 

Y/N's heart clenched at his words, a mixture of fear and longing swirling within her. She knew the risks of giving in to their desires, of crossing that line. But in that moment, as she stood there in Dean's arms, she couldn't deny the pull of their connection.  

The magnetic force that drew them together, refusing to be ignored. She turned to face him, she looked into Dean's eyes, she saw the truth reflected back at her. The depth of his feelings, the sincerity of his words. 

With a trembling breath, Y/N leaned in closer to Dean, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "I want you too." Before their lips meet.  

As their kiss deepened, Dean's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, pulling her closer to him with a gentle yet firm touch. He felt the fabric of her dress, wondering what her skin would feel like beneath his fingertips.  

Y/N's hands roamed over Dean's chest, tracing the contours of his muscles with a feather-light touch. She felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm, a comforting reassurance of the passion that burned between them. 

Their bodies pressed together, each movement synchronized as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment. Soft moans escaped their lips, mingling with the sound of their breathless gasps as they surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of their embrace. 

Their hands tangled in each other's hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as they deepened their kiss even further. It was a dance of desire, a symphony of sensations that enveloped them in a whirlwind of passion and ecstasy. 

And as they finally broke apart, their chests heaving with exertion, Dean and Y/N found themselves lost in each other's gaze. With a soft smile he closed the space in between them again.  

As Dean's hand moved under Y/N's dress, his lips trailing along her neck with a hunger that threatened to consume them both, Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through her veins. She melted into his touch, her body responding instinctively to the warmth of his embrace. 

But as the intensity of their passion threatened to overwhelm her, a flicker of uncertainty crept into Y/N's mind. She couldn't shake the fear of being caught by Jody or the girls.  

"Dean," she murmured softly, her voice trembling with both desire and apprehension. "I... I don't know if we should..." Dean's lips silenced her words with a searing kiss. 

 

"Please," Dean whispered against her lips, his voice filled with longing. ”I need to feel you sweetheart.” His touch igniting a fire within her that burned hotter with each passing moment.  

But even as she melted into his embrace, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging worry that lingered at the back of her mind. Feeling Y/N's doubt weighing heavy in the air, Dean gently pulled back, his gaze searching hers with understanding. He knew that pushing her further in that moment would only add to her uncertainty. 

Instead, he looked around, his eyes landing on the Impala parked nearby. A spark of inspiration ignited within him, and he reached out to take Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers as he led her towards the car. 

"Let's go for a ride," he suggested softly, his voice tinged with warmth and reassurance. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded, a flicker of excitement dancing in her gaze. With Dean's hand in hers, she felt a sense of comfort and security wash over her, dispelling the lingering doubts that had clouded her mind. 

They climbed into the Impala, the engine roaring to life beneath them as Dean guided the car out onto the open road. Eventually, Dean pulled into an empty parking spot near the end of a park, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a warm golden hue over everything.  

He turned off the engine and turned to face Y/N, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Here we are," he said softly, his eyes shining with affection. "Just you, me, and the open road. No distractions, no worries. Just us." 

As the intimacy between them heightened in the confined space of the Impala, Dean closed the gap between them, his heart pounding in his chest with anticipation. He could feel the heat of his desire coursing through him.  

With a trembling hand, Dean reached out to cup Y/N's face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek as he looked into her eyes. And then, unable to resist any longer, he leaned in closer, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that left them both breathless. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands moving to tangle in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her body pressing against his with a desperate need. Dean's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting a fire within her that burned hotter with each passing moment. 

His fingers brushed over the curves of her breasts, the fabric of her dress a barrier between them that only served to heighten their desire. Dean could feel his arousal growing with each touch, his erection straining against his pants as he longed to feel Y/N's skin against his own. 

Their passion continued to build, the air around them thick with the heady scent of desire. Dean suggested, "Let's move to the back seat." 

Once settled in the spacious back seat, Dean's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, pulling her close as their lips met in another heated kiss. The back seat of the Impala became their private haven where they could freely explore the depths of their passion without fear of interruption. 

With a sense of urgency and longing, Dean's hands moved to the hem of Y/N's dress, fingers deftly working to pull the fabric upwards. As the dress slipped off her body, revealing her skin beneath, Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her beauty laid bare before him. 

Leaning in closer, his lips pressed against the newly exposed skin, trailing a path of soft kisses along her neck and down her collarbone. Each touch was a tender caress. Taking his time.  

Y/N gasped softly at the sensation, her fingers tangling in Dean's hair as she pulled him closer, urging him on. The warmth of his lips against her skin sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body, letting out a soft moan “Dean...”  

With trembling hands, Y/N reached out to Dean, her fingers working deftly to undo his clothing, her touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him. 

As each piece of clothing fell away, Dean's skin tingled with anticipation, the warmth of Y/N's touch searing into his flesh.  

Her fingers traced the contours of his shoulders and back, leaving a trail of electric sensation. Dean's breath caught in his throat at the intimacy of their embrace, his heart pounding in his chest as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming passion that consumed them both. 

As Y/N felt Dean's arousal pressing against her wet core, a surge of desire pulsed through her, igniting a fiery need that demanded to be satisfied, a soft moan escaping her lips, she instinctively wrapped a leg around Dean's hip, pulling him closer, craving more of the feeling of him against her. 

Dean responded eagerly, his own desire burning bright as he pressed himself against Y/N, their bodies melding together in a primal dance of passion. The sensation of her warmth against his throbbing erection sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, heightening his arousal.  

Feeling her eager response, Dean's hand moved to the fabric of Y/N's panties, his fingers sliding between the soft material and her slick folds. With practiced skill, he teased and caressed her, his touch gentle yet firm as he ensured she was ready for him. 

Y/N's breath hitched at the sensation, a low moan escaping her lips as she surrendered herself to the pleasure of Dean's touch. Each stroke of his fingers sent sparks of ecstasy dancing along her skin.  

As Dean's fingers slid inside her, Y/N gasped at the exquisite sensation, her body responding eagerly to his touch. With each gentle stroke, she felt herself opening up to him, her walls tightening around his fingers in a delicious embrace. 

And as he curled his fingers upwards, seeking out her most sensitive spots, Y/N's breath hitched in her throat, a surge of pleasure coursing through her at the exquisite sensation. 

Her back arched instinctively, pressing herself against him as she surrendered herself to the overwhelming feeling. Dean's movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke sending waves of ecstasy crashing over her.  

With each curl of his fingers, Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of oblivion, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection. As Y/N spiralled over the edge of ecstasy, waves of pleasure crashing over her in a tidal wave of sensation.  

She felt Dean's smile against her neck a silent testament to his pride in bringing her to such heights of pleasure.  

Her moans filled the air, mingling with the sound of their ragged breaths as Dean continued to work her with skilled precision, his fingers coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from her trembling body. 

And as Y/N slowly came down from her euphoric high, her senses still tingling with the echoes of her orgasm, never did she have a mind-blowing orgasm like this before.  

As Dean kissed her lips with a hunger that mirrored his own, with trembling hands, she reached down, her fingers trailing over his length, coating his arousal with her own wetness. 

Dean's reaction was immediate, a low groan escaping his lips as he felt the slick heat of her arousal against his skin. His body trembled with anticipation, Dean guided himself towards her entrance, his movements slow and deliberate as he pressed against her, seeking entry into her warmth.  

And as he finally entered her, he felt a rush of ecstasy wash over him, a feeling of completeness that could only be found in the arms of the woman he loved. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure that escaped their lips, Dean and Y/N surrendered themselves completely to each other.  

As their bodies moved together in a frenzy of passion and desire, Dean's voice filled the air with a raw intensity, his words laced with a primal hunger that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Y/N's veins. 

"You feel so damn good," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he thrust into her again and again. "So tight and wet for me. God, I can't get enough of you." 

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, a surge of arousal flooding through her at the sound of his deep voice in her ear. She clung to him desperately, her nails digging into his skin as she surrendered herself completely to the overwhelming pleasure.  

Dean's words became more urgent, more desperate, as he drove himself deeper into her, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy crashing over them both. "You like that, huh?" he growled, his voice filled with primal need. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" 

Y/N's moans filled the warm air, her voice a sweet symphony of pleasure as she cried out Dean's name. The sound sent a jolt of raw desire coursing through him, igniting a primal hunger that threatened to consume him whole. 

Dean's thrusts became wilder, more frenzied, as he drove himself deeper into her, chasing after the sweet release that awaited them both. "Again," he growled, his voice thick with need. "Louder, baby. Moan my name again." 

Y/N complied eagerly, her voice ringing out in the night as she cried out his name. Each moan sent shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through Dean's body, driving him to the brink of madness with desire. 

Their movements became sloppy, erratic, as they surrendered themselves completely to the overwhelming passion that consumed them. Y/N's nails dug into Dean's skin, leaving behind a trail of fiery sensation as she urged him on with her touch. 

As their bodies reached the pinnacle of pleasure together, Dean and Y/N were consumed by a wave of ecstasy that left them both trembling in its wake. Their cries of pleasure mingled in the air, echoing off the walls of the car as they surrendered themselves completely to the overwhelming sensation of release. 

Locked in a passionate embrace, their eyes met in a moment of pure connection, each seeing the reflection of their own pleasure mirrored in the other's gaze. In that instant, time seemed to stand still as they basked in the shared bliss of their union, their hearts beating as one in perfect harmony. 

Dean and Y/N held onto each other tightly, their bodies still quivering with the aftershocks of their climax. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that they had found something true.  

As they bodies lay tangled on the backseat of the car, Deans hand moved circles on her back. Her cheek placed against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat.  

“What are you thinking about?” She asked him, looking up into his beautiful eyes. A soft grin appeared. “That I need face Jody.” a soft chuckle leaves her lips. Her finger traced his chest.  

“You know, you can stay with me tonight if you want.” His eyes grew wide while he looked down at her. “Worry about Jody in the morning.” she added. 

Dean’s lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Are you sure? Because you’re kinda breaking your law here.” Y/N didn’t immediately understood him. “Sleep with your patient, very unprofessional doc.” he said while pulling her closer to him.  

“Well, mister Winchester, I think you’re making excellent progress.” She kissed his lips slowly yet deep. “Meeting new people.” Another kiss. “Building some sort of relations.” a kiss on his neck “Allowing yourself to be... close to someone.”  

Her teeth scraped against his neck. “Oh yes, you are making one hell of a progress. I’m proud of you.” Dean’s tongue wets his lips. “I think I still need some more practise on the being close thing. You know.” He said flirty.  

Deans hand pulls her up by the back of her neck, moving her position so she is straddling him. Right before he kisses her lips he whispers. “Maybe I should come home with you. So you can... teach me some more.”  

“Deal.”   

-----

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[oopsypoo]

Tearsmith is bad in a guilty pleasure sort of way. I will never defend this shit. In fact you can catch me sitting with its haters but I did cringe constantly and keep watching like a masochist so…

[intheticklecloset]

The Couch (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Primary Universe

Summary: Chuuya finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with Dazai's laugh. Thankfully, the night after a rough mission gives him an excuse to hear it again.

A/N: Traveling back in time again for this one! This takes place after The Fedora, when these two idiots are still teenagers working for the Port Mafia. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1430

~~~

Osamu Dazai had a beautiful laugh. Chuuya hated that he loved it so much.

Hearing Dazai laugh for any reason always meant the man was either in a good mood (which made Chuuya wary on a good day) or mocking the redhead for something he’d done that wasn’t as smart a move as he’d make, because the annoying truth was that Dazai was also brilliant, and it irked Chuuya to no end to know and begrudgingly accept as much. The worst part was that even tickling – something that would be torture to so many others, was torture to Chuuya himself – didn’t faze the man. He loved it, the weirdo, in all of its uncontrollable and genuine glory.

So really, if Chuuya wanted to hear him laugh, he would always have to accept that it put him beneath Dazai in that moment, but sometimes…sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

Like today, when the brunette had decided to crash on Chuuya’s couch for the night after an intense mission that, admittedly, left him too weak and tired to attempt to get home until the morning. To be fair, the redhead had been the one to offer, but now that Dazai was here and making himself comfortable, he wished he’d just made the jerk take the walk of shame back to his own apartment. Or even better – to a mental hospital, because seriously, who threw themselves into the line of fire like that when it was just as fast and way safer to find another way around it?

Chuuya tossed a blanket onto Dazai’s face and grumbled, “You good, then? I don’t have to babysit you or any crap like that, right?”

“Chuuya’s so mean to me,” Dazai whined, pulling the blanket down to reveal his smiling face. “I’ll manage. Go on and get your beauty sleep. You need it.”

“You’re not going to bleed all over my couch, are you?”

“I’ll try to show some restraint.”

Chuuya grunted as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door, along with his hat.

How Dazai got across the room so fast when he was so injured was beyond him, but the next thing he knew his hair tie was being yanked roughly from his head, causing his long red locks to fall in messy strands around his face.

“Yoink!” the brunette giggled, clearly in a playful mood, and that was it. That was all it took to trigger Chuuya’s sudden, intense desire to hear him laugh. Why, he couldn’t begin to explain. The man had been stupid and reckless and was one bad coughing fit away from reopening a half a dozen wounds all over his body, but still…

“Hey!” Chuuya snapped, whirling around only to find Dazai right where he’d left him, looking as though he hadn’t moved a muscle in the few seconds his back had been turned. “Idiot – don’t push yourself! You’ll make it worse. Of course that’s probably what you want, you freak.”

Dazai hummed innocently, stretching out on the couch and pulling the blanket up under his chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chuuya strode back over to him, hands on his hips, glaring daggers at the man for a few long seconds – just long enough for a flicker of confusion to pass through Dazai’s gaze. Then he attacked, gloved fingers finding his ribs through the plush blanket, and there it was – that gorgeous smile, that beautiful laugh. Dazai’s whole body spasmed and he dissolved into giggles, squirming in place, not really trying to get away at all. “Chuuya wahahahants to plahahahay, does he?”

“You started it,” the redhead retorted, scoffing halfheartedly at his irritating colleague’s feeble attempts to lessen the sensations. “Still this ticklish through a blanket, eh? And you’re not even trying to stop me. Typical.”

Dazai whined and, as if spurred by the taunt, finally started trying to remove himself from the line of tickly fingers, shimmying further and further up so his back was on the arm of the couch.

“No,” Chuuya growled, activating his ability to keep Dazai right where he was, determined to stay here as long as it took for him to hear that laugh – that light, carefree, beautiful laugh.

Dazai’s eyes widened in surprise, but the fact that he didn’t use his own ability to cancel out Chuuya’s was proof enough that he loved this spontaneous little attack, and he let himself giggle more freely, unable to even squirm away some of the sensation now that he was being pinned by the sheer force of gravity.

“You’re a moron, you know?” Chuuya grumbled, yanking the blanket away, reaching for the brunette’s hips, satisfied when the man let out a brief shriek and began laughing softly, still unable to move a muscle. “Throwing yourself into the path of a bunch of bullets like that. I’ve seen you do stupid shit, but come on, Dazai. You could have been really hurt today.”

“Aww, you d-do cahahahahahare about mehehehehe!”

“Still smug, huh? Fine.” The redhead grabbed Dazai’s arms and shoved them above his head, the force of his ability keeping them trapped there.

“Ah! No! No, wait!”

“Wait, nothing. Maybe this will finally get you to see reason, you suicidal freak.”

Dazai would have thrown his head back and bucked his hips and started kicking, but Chuuya’s ability still had a hold of him and he couldn’t quite bring himself to break free of it, so instead he burst into loud, cascading laughter without moving a muscle, forced to take it, forced to look at the knowing smirk on his colleague’s face. Unbidden, a blush flooded his cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Dazai? Too ticklish for your own good? How’s it feel to be stuck here, huh? Oh, sure…you could get out of this if you wanted to. But you don’t.” Chuuya leaned down so they were practically nose to nose, drinking in the other man’s laughter like it was wine, letting the sound wash over him and fill him up, fueling him for the next time he’d have to deal with the brunette’s crap. In a low voice, he teased, “You don’t want me to stop, do you, Dazai? You want me to tickle you until you just can’t stand it anymore. I was worried about you bleeding all over my couch, but you know, I’m less concerned about that now that I see how desperate you look. It’s so worth it to watch you crumble like this.”

“CHUHUHUHUHUHUUYA!!” Dazai screeched, blushing even harder, wishing he could squirm but still unwilling to break out of the smaller man’s hold on him. “DON’T SAHAHAHAHAHAY THAT!!”

“Why? Can’t handle some teasing?” Chuuya smirked, finding that spot at the center of his underarms and drilling into it with meticulous purpose, enjoying the keening, hysterical scream that ripped out of the man’s throat. “Not so loud, Dazai, or the neighbors will hear. You don’t want everyone on the block to know you’re this ticklish, do you? Don’t make me gag you. I’ll do it, you know.”

Dazai laughed loud and hard for several long seconds before breaking down into silent, wheezing giggles. He tried pleading, but when his voice wouldn’t cooperate with him he finally canceled Chuuya’s ability and curled up defensively, practically rolling off the side of the couch as he begged, “Stohohohohop, Chuuya! Plehehehehease!”

Satisfied that he’d not only gotten to hear that gorgeous laugh but also made his infuriating colleague submit and beg for him, the redhead removed his hands from Dazai and reached for the blanket he’d discarded, throwing it over his face again, unwilling to see that adorable pink blush and think about what it meant that his heart sped up at the sight of it.

“There. You got what you wanted. Now go to sleep and try not to die overnight. I don’t want to have to explain to Mori that you bled out because you were laughing so hard you opened up your wounds again.”

Dazai giggled from beneath the blanket, pulling it down so his face was visible once more. Before he could walk away, the brunette sang, “Chuuya~”

“What?”

Dazai held up the hair tie he’d stolen. The redhead blinked. He’d forgotten all about that. “You look good with your hair down.”

“What—? Shut up! Go to sleep, you moron!”

Chuuya slammed his bedroom door in a flustered huff, Dazai’s laughter managing to slip through the cracks and invade his space even as he flopped into bed and tried not to think about how much he loved that laugh.

[writeforfandoms]

Fall Into Me 9

Find the series masterlist

Rose deals with the fallout of the graffiti, and discovers she has more help than she could have guessed.

Warnings: Swearing, Feels, these men are on a mission now, teasing.

Word count: 1.3k

Eventual Rose x 141/Los Vaqueros. Eventual.

The best thing Rose could really say about that day was that it passed. Far, far too many of her customers commented on the graffiti when they came in, expressing concern and condolences. Her smile was brittle after fifteen minutes, and Gaz quickly but gently exiled her to making drinks and took over talking to people. 

It stung, a little, but she didn’t fight him. She didn’t have the energy to fight him. 

After the morning rush, he pushed a cup of tea at her. Rose briefly made a face but took the tea.

“I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Not coddling you,” he immediately denied. “I’d do this for any friend.”

She swallowed a mouthful of tea to hide the way her heart clenched at that declaration. Friend. She didn’t have a lot of those, even fewer she considered to be truly trustworthy, so to have him say it so easily… Well. She enjoyed that far too much.

“I don’t normally let friends work for me,” she drawled, catching the way his smile brightened. “But I suppose I’ll allow it for today.” 

Gaz chuckled and nudged her. “What else needs doing?” 

Rose thought about it for a moment, her gaze wandering over to the window. She wanted that gone, desperately. But she also wasn’t sure she was brave enough to face it long enough to scrub it off the window.

“Hey, told you we’d take care of that,” Gaz murmured, stepping closer and nudging her to pull her gaze back to him. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Rose raised one eyebrow. “That is literally physically impossible for me,” she drawled. “I’m going to worry about it until it’s gone.”

He huffed. “Trust me, won’t be there much longer.”

She narrowed her eyes a little but didn’t question it. Yet. “I suppose you could make a help wanted sign to stick in the window,” she offered casually. 

“Yeah? Thinking you’re ready to hire someone?” 

“Thinking I need to,” she corrected with a little huff. “Because I can’t work seven days a week.” 

He nodded once, though she could see the wheels turning. “You have any social media for this place?”

“Uh. No.” Rose blinked, caught off guard.

“Shame.” Gaz smirked to himself as he located a pen. 

“What are you planning?”

“Who, me?”

“Yes you, you meddler.” 

“Nothing.” His grin had grown to shit-eating proportions now. “Just a question, love.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Rose eyed him but decided he wasn’t going to give up the information that easily. She’d just have to play the long game. 

Of course, she immediately got distracted when Price walked in, Soap and Rodolfo waving to her as they walked through the shop and out front, Soap carrying a bucket full of frothy soapy water. 

“What?” She blinked, gaze darting between the men. This was beginning to feel distinctly tactical, the way they were tackling her problems. 

“Security camera outside got a good enough shot of the man responsible,” John told her, leaning against the counter. Gaz slipped unobtrusively over to a table, out of the way. “How d’you want to handle this?”

Rose fidgeted, chewing on her lower lip. A quick glance at John’s eyes showed no judgment, no expectations. Just patience. “I’d rather not, actually.”

“You sure?” 

She nodded once. “I mean, if there’s a way to get him on some kind of watchlist, make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. But otherwise, keep me out of it.” Her smile was a little bitter. She wasn’t very brave, and she knew it. She liked things quieter. 

John nodded once, and that was that. “You should have a few cameras in here,” he said, clearly moving on to the next item on his mental list. 

“Never had the time to properly research that.” Rose shrugged. She also rarely had the disposable income to put towards something like that. Not that she was going to spell that out for John. 

His lips twitched, and she thought he knew anyway. “One there,” he said, pointing to a spot above the prep area. “And one there.” He pointed again across the store. “Cover basically the whole place. Could do one in the back too, if you wanted.” 

Rose tilted her head slowly, blinking. “Alright,” she agreed slowly. “Is there a certain one you recommend?” 

He nodded, fighting down a smile. “Won’t take long to get them installed.”

“Wait, installed?” Rose blinked at him, feeling like she was missing some vital part of the conversation here. 

“Got a dozen up in my office, darling,” John told her, no longer fighting down the smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled with his amusement, and she tried hard not to be distracted by that. “I’ll have Ghost bring ‘em down and we’ll install them.”

“But–” Rose blinked. Private security. Right. “John, those are for your business.”

John shrugged. “And? Can’t exactly report me to the boss, darling.” 

She frowned at him, struggling for a moment to verbalize the rest of her concern. “I can’t…”

“Love.” John lowered his voice a little, leaning in closer. “Don’t worry about it. Just let us do this, yeah?” His smile softened, something warm and almost teasing. “You can give us free tea if it makes you feel better.” 

Rose chuckled, the tension in her chest releasing. “How about cookies?” 

“Soap will be thrilled,” John drawled. “You want a camera in the back too?”

“Sure. Might as well.” Rose shrugged. The back wasn’t large - her tiny office and a tiny kitchen, just big enough for her to make cookies. The storage area was more of a closet, really, which is why she kept a close eye on supplies. 

John nodded. “Good. Won’t take long.” One of his hands closed over hers, big and warm, his thumb pressing gently to the delicate underside of her wrist. “Worth it to have you safe.” 

Rose swallowed but nodded slowly, heart thundering along in her chest. “Keep being so nice to me and you’ll never get rid of me,” she said, trying for joking but falling a little shy.

The flash of his grin was brief and amused. “Why do you think we keep coming back, darling?” He released her and stepped away, leaving her floundering. 

A quick look showed that Soap and Rodolfo were working on scrubbing off the spraypaint, and Gaz was doing something with his phone, tongue poking out between his lips. 

She had a little time.

Sneaking into the back was easy, and it took very little time to whip up a batch of cookie dough. A quick peek out front showed Gaz behind the counter, no customers in the shop, with John and Ghost working together quietly to install one of the cameras. Good enough.

The timer beeping pulled everyone’s attention briefly to the back, and Rose hummed a bit as she pulled the cookies out of the oven. They needed to cool a little before she took them off the baking sheets, but given five minutes, she’d be able to deliver fresh cookies to the guys. 

To her guys.

The thought gave her pause, both because of how right it felt and how possessive it was. But, well… They were her friends now. And the way at least a couple of them flirted, more was not out of the question. 

But it was a question for later, because she did not have the mental capacity for this right now. 

Using two of the actual plastic plates she had, she carried the cookies out to one of the tables. “Anyone want a snack?” 

Watching Soap try to dive on an entire plate for himself (only to be blocked by Ghost) was enough to have her nearly in stitches. But not enough to distract her from Gaz taking a picture of the plate in front of him before typing rapidly into his phone. She could ask… but she decided not to. 

Especially since the thought of them being her guys circled around and around in her head, refusing to give her any rest. 

She really needed to get herself sorted.

[fiction-boys-rule]

To Just Be

Pairing: Eliot Spencer/Reader (non gender specified)

Warnings: slight swearing, mental health topics, fluff

Summary: Your mental state takes a turn and you find yourself slipping back into bad habits. Eliot helps to comfort you and the both of you spend a cozy night together.

The music seems too loud in the small space of your bedroom but the thought of silence perturbes you more. The mattress is too soft but not hard enough at the same time. The feeling of your clothes on your skin is driving you insane. You are too cold and too hot at the same time, the only movement in the room being your fan and your feet adjusting the sheets every few minutes. 

You’re overstimulated, to say the least.

The phone in your hands is warm from using it for the past few hours. You can’t seem to stop your hands from doom scrolling. 

Down, down, down. 

What was the trick that the podcaster said? Ask yourself what the last three videos were about to see if you are doom scrolling? 

Shit.

Different ideas pass through your mind, in a blur. Ideas about better things you could be doing to comfort yourself in this state instead of worsening it. There’s that new book you’ve been meaning to read, your favorite childhood movie, the stack of coloring books you bought a few months ago…

That’s all they are, fleeting thoughts and ideas. Pulling yourself away from the phone screen and leaving your bedroom is a daunting task. You want to sleep and be transported into a mental state of nothing, but you aren’t physically tired enough yet.

A soft knock on your bedroom door makes you jump. It cracks open, revealing a curious Eliot.

“Hey, sweetheart. I thought you weren’t home yet.”

“Oh, hi.”

“Were you asleep?”

You glance guiltily at your phone, “No,” you answer meekly.

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” “I guess not.”

He holds his stare for a bit longer than you are comfortable with.

“Bad day today?”

“I’m just tired.” you lie.

Eliot’s feet hesitate in the doorway and you know he doesn’t believe you. He knows you probably just don’t want to talk about it right now.

“I’m going to get started on dinner, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Your response comes out quicker than you intended.

Eliot frowns and eventually asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You feel your stomach clench in protest at your response. You just don’t have the energy to deal with eating. 

“Okay, alright. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He slowly closes the door and you sigh.

Part of you feels bad for lying to him, but you’re so drained from the week it intimidates you thinking about having to explain yourself when you don’t even know what’s going on in your own mind. You want to comfort yourself in some way and have some sort of routine but you can’t decide what to do and it’s driving you crazy. You feel lost, both in the short and long term. 

You have been thinking of where your professional life is going, the endless chores and errands, and the state of the world that you’re constantly being bombarded with on social media. You feel hopeless and nothing in your everyday life is helping you get out of it. 

There’s been no specific trigger to your emotions, and you suspect that is the biggest stressor for you. It all started during your commute to work in the morning. You couldn’t choose music to play for the life of you and ended up resigning yourself to a quiet drive in order to not be running late.

During your lunch break you decided to visit one of your favorite cafes nearby. When you walked in and started to run through the different options on the menu, your mind went blank. Nothing seemed remotely appetizing, not even your usual favorite. When the barista called you over to order next, you panicked and ended up choosing the first option you saw. It was only afterwards that you realized what you had ordered and ended up doing a walk of shame back to your workplace. You drank the drink hastily to not have it go to waste, but it was a chore nevertheless.

During your commute back home, in silence once again, you encountered many terrible drivers and the closer you got to home, the more your mood soured. 

Upon entering your living space, the reminders of future chores and errands that needed to be done were enough of a nuisance to send you surrendering into your bedroom. 

Now a few hours later, here you still are. Your mind barely registers the now dark room and now you understand why Eliot seemed so concerned.

You distinctly register the sound of pots and pans and remember Eliot’s cooking. Almost on cue, your phone appears with a video of a delicious looking recipe and your stomach grumbles.

Using every ounce of energy you have left, you put your phone down. Your eyes stare up at the ceiling. Your mind is racing but hardly any of the thoughts are concrete or discernable. You just want a distraction, some way to lose control.

You sigh and sit up in your bed. Your back and neck protest from your previous position and you groan slightly. You don’t want to talk much tonight, but you figure you can try your best.

You make a quick trip to the bathroom before slowly continuing to the kitchen. Eliot is playing some old country music softly, the soft ambience and cooking sounds soothing you almost instantly. The overhead light isn’t on, just the stovetop, and you are extremely grateful. The smells pull you in further and your feet are moving before you can stop them.

Eliot turns at the sound of your approach.

“Hey, darlin’.” he greets softly.

“Hi.”

“I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I’m making your favorite. Didn’t want the food to go bad.”

Eliot sounds very unsure of himself at the moment, and it throws you off a bit.

“Thank you.”

He follows your lead of the conversation and doesn’t push you further. His attention returns to the pan and you watch attently as his hands add more ingredients.

“Go on and have a seat. It’s almost ready.”

You wish you could thank him more verbally, but you hope he knows your appreciation runs deep.

You stroll over and sit at the dining table, watching his back and the way he moves in the space. After a while, he plates and strolls over to you. 

“Here you go, baby. I hope you like it.”

You nod and gingerly start to handle your utensils. He eventually sits and you both enjoy the peaceful environment. Once you’ve both finished, he picks up your plates and cleans off the dining table. He surprises you by turning the stovetop light off and heading to the living space. At your confusion, he holds both of your coats up.

“I think we should go get dessert.”

You smile and nod. You stand from your chair and meet him in the space. He gently turns your body and clothes your body with the coat. You can tell by his body language he wants to touch you, but is unsure. Your hands reach out and wrap around his middle, making him reciprocate. His chin settles on the top of your head and he sighs heavily in contentment.

You both pull away after a few moments and head out the door shortly thereafter. You find yourselves sitting on a park bench enjoying your favorite desserts. The park is calm, and the surrounding area holds little to no people. The fresh nighttime air has allowed your mind to come back to the present and you feel refreshed, even if it is just a little bit. 

You return to your home afterwards and now you are able to look at your space in a different perspective. Eliot takes both of your coats off and hangs them up. He leads you to the couch and has you settle yourself before retreating into the hall. You are confused until you see him return with a basket of your self care items that you keep organized. 

He sits next to you and hands you your favorite face mask and headband. You put your headband on and are about to stand when Eliot takes the mask from you.

“Here, turn around.”

You do, and your heart flutters as he places the face mask on you. He adjusts it a few times before leaning away and nodding. To your surprise, he moves in closer and hands another one to you with another headband. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s asking you to do the same. Your chest warms, and you will your hands to move. You take your time, relishing in touching his face and gazing softly into his eyes. Once you finish, you lean back and giggle softly. He smiles, holding your hands. 

“Now we match,” he says.

“Yes we do.” you whisper.

Eliot isn’t the biggest fan of watching tv, but he scrolls through different options until settling on an old animated children’s movie. You both move into each other’s spaces and find comfortable positions. Slowly, you feel yourself drifting into a peaceful state. His hands on your body and his warmth are steadily inducing you into a sleepy mood.

He catches your body’s signals and pats your side softly.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” he whispers.

You wish to prolong your night, but you find yourself agreeing nonetheless.

He stands and accompanies you to the bathroom. Together, you prepare for bed and fall into your usual separate  routines. You are in bed first, too tired to follow your more thorough nighttime routine. Eliot joins you soon after, his arms caressing you. 

You decide to speak your thoughts before falling asleep. You hope your true feelings and emotions shine through your exhaustion.

“Thank you for everything. Thank you for taking the decisions away and just letting me…I don’t know, just be. I don’t know what’s wrong, but this helped. To just be.”

You stay in silence for a few beats, not expecting a response. You are glad you were able to express your thoughts, even if you don’t exactly know how to explain them.

“I’ll always be here for you. Just tell me, I’m always happy to just be with you. You don’t need to think or talk, you can just be with me. That’s all I need, just you. Nothing else.”

You squeeze him a little tighter at his words, and they allow for your body to finally slip into sleep fully, able to just be.

[glitterypinkconverse]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Peter Ballard x fem!reader, where she has a bad day at the lab (she’s a staff members or an older subject/patient, your choice) and Peter sneaks into her room that night and realizes that she’s sad so he comforts her?

late night comforts

summary peter has noticed that you’re feeling a little off, it concerning him throughout the day. so when he had the chance to sneak into your room at night, he spends every minute trying to comfort you.

pairings peter ballard x fem!orderly! reader

warnings slight angst?

Something was off, and Peter knew it. He studied your movements across the rainbow lab, watching as you forced yourself to play with Eleven, only because she wanted you to play with her.

You were a people pleaser. Anybody knew it. You would put other people's feelings before your own, causing you to mentally breakdown during the nights when it went on for too long.

You needed comfort, and Peter could sense it. It took everything in his will power to not walk up to you and give you the biggest hug ever, to kiss you, to make all your worries go away.

But that was the shame of being trapped in Hawkins Lab, everyone here was isolated and alone. You couldn’t be seen interacting with other people apart from the kids, and it hurt you. You missed your life outside of Hawkins Lab, wishing you could go back to it. But once you started working here, it’s like you couldn’t pull away from it.

During the testings Peter could see you silently wincing, though you were barely moving. He could feel your grimace when Dr. Brenner would torture the kids to put then against these mind tests against their will, and it pained you. All you wanted to do was run away with Peter and all the others, and take them to a safe spot where no one could get hurt.

Even during dinner time with all the other staff members Peter wanted to reach over and give you the biggest hug in the universe, but the risk of getting caught concerned the both of you. You didn’t talk to him during dinner time, as well as not talking to the others like you normally do. The others didn’t notice, but Peter surely did.

He wanted to get to the bottom of it. When everyone was supposed to be asleep, you were not. Your door opened with a silent creak, a little beam of light passing through the doorway. You sat up in your bed, examining the figure shutting your door.

“Peter?” You asked once you made out his frame. In the dark room he smiled, sitting down on the bed next to you. “What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”

“I couldn’t go to sleep knowing something was wrong with you. Care to tell me what’s wrong?” He asked, bringing you closer to him. You immediately pushed down into his embrace, his smell filling your lungs. He held you closer and tighter, his fingers running through your hair.

You two sat like this for a couple of minutes until you let out a sigh, looking up at him. He was already looking down at you, sympathy in his eyes. He was genuinely concerned for you.

“I just need someone. That’s all. And I know I have you and I’m grateful for that, but I just hate being stuck in this goddamn lab! I feel so isolated and alone, and yet alone it’s still risky even sending a glance your way.” You burst out, your anger spilling. Peter leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head, bringing you even more humanly possible.

“We’re going to get out of here. Trust me, we’ll take Eleven with us too. When the time comes, everything will be perfect.” He murmured, you two sitting in silence again.

“How much longer can you stay here?” You whispered, Peter sighing in response.

“Only a couple of more minutes, but until then, I’m staying right here with you. I’ll always be with you, no matter what happens.” His warmth and his comforting words made you feel a bit better, and being in his arms made you more comfortable than you have been since the past few weeks. You found yourself slipping away into the darkness, a deep and peaceful slumber lurking upon you.

[relastelvanni]

📖 2022

The week leading up to Christmas 2021, I was unwell. I was feeling very fatigued and burnt out as we all were. There wasn’t a lot of sun so I was likely Vitamin D deficient, right? Also I somehow lost 10 lbs between October and December without trying which didn’t match what I was eating - probably stress? Oh, but I feel really thirsty, and I can’t seem to quench it… that’s an odd symptom I can’t explain with burnout. It was that symptom that made me test my fasting blood sugars and sure enough, they were way over into diabetic levels.

🚨

On Hogmanay as I rushed to get my booster before the bells, I also went to the GP as an emergency for my blood test. The results came back and my GP wanted to talk urgently. On Jan 5th I was officially diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes and put onto metformin straight away. This began a whirlwind of a year.

On the outside I seemed calm, on the inside I was a ball of emotion, but mostly shame. Shame that after years of warnings this could happen, I had to tell people what had happened. I felt guilt for making people around me worry for my health. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was okay and they didn’t have to worry about me. Maybe not a healthy attitude to take but from the moment I left that Doctor’s surgery and took a 2.5 mile walk home, I decided I was going for remission, end of.

I immediately went on a low carb diet of 130g of carbs a day and stuck to it religiously, I did not break 130g or tried not to. No cheat days, no snacking. Again, perhaps not the healthiest thing to do but I couldn’t bring myself to eat high carbs again. I started walking a lot more, walking three miles home from work in the winter. I went swimming, I got a bike through the cycle to work scheme. But most of all was the diet. It was tough and there were times I felt like crying. But my head told me “I put myself in this situation, you don’t deserve sympathy”. Urgh, silly head.

But despite that negative mindset, the physical side improved quickly. My sugars fell rapidly most importantly and as a by-product, I lost 15 lbs in the first month, followed by another 15 lbs in the second, starting at 255 lbs and ending March around 210.

Now those who know me will know I had no problem with my weight before - I was very happy as a chubby person because I went on a journey over the past few years of learning to love my body, throw off the shame I held against my body and show it off at the beach and the pool etc. So the weight loss for me was such a sudden shift in mindset too. I was back very quickly to a body I had before I learned to love my body… and societal pressure came back. That’s been a struggle this year is loving my new body without need for validation externally.

But in terms of the diabetes, by the end of March, I had my hbA1c checked again… and I was no longer diabetic! I had managed, with the tablets, to get the diabetes into remission. I can’t tell you how proud I am to have got to this point. All the hard work and hardship I put my mental state through was worth the result.

Over the next three months I relaxed the diet a wee bit and let myself eat a little more, but no where near the levels I was at before. My weight finally stabilised at around 180 lbs which is where I’m at now, meaning in total from max weight, I’ve lost 85 lbs in the last year. But more importantly, at the end of June, my HbA1c was still at a non diabetic level, this time without medication.

Since June, my weight has been stable, my sugars are still down, I’ve taken up badminton 2-3 times a week to keep me active physically (and mentally too). I feel fantastic physically and I’m so happy I’ve managed to turn around the diabetes. I still need to work on my mental state and work on some of those troublesome feelings I had at the start of the year as well as others. But aye, long post, but I’m still here, still going. Hopefully 2023 I’ll stay in remission. All the best to everyone 💛

[senkothewarlock]

DWC #2

@daily-writing-challenge

Day 2: Suppress & Pastel

(I know it’s technically ended but I joined late so I’m just going to keep going. :3c)

Some days had passed since Senko brooded atop of the perch. Her mind still lingered on the events that transpired the last time she roamed the sandbanks of Vol’dun. She never admitted it to anyone, but her neck and wrists still ached from the shackles of slavery. Her mind kept playing the same scenes over and over, even now as she walked across the paved streets of Valdrakken. The city was a cosmopolitan jewel on the crown of Azeroth’s civilisations.

Engineering that would shame Ironforge, militancy on par with Orgrimmar, markets and bazaars to rival Silvermoon and Dalaran combined. The scent of spice broke her ruminations as she glanced at a fellow Vulpera, hard at work to convince a pack of dragonkin to try a hearty dollop of Akunda’s Bite, grounded up and sprinkled on their cereals in the morning. How ironic it was a scent of home that broke her mental revisitations.

The fox had a flair to him, a showman. Pale, yellow fur broken up by his gaudy blue vest. He spun a tattered top hat around his left paw, while firmly grasping a diminutive shovel in his right. Granules and grains of spice glistened from it as he used it to gesture like an auctioneer to the market goers.

“Now, are you sure I can’t tempt you?” The man spoke, a wooden box beneath him creaked as it supported his wild movements.

“I don’t know,” one of the four-legged dragonkin spoke. “Spiced cereal? It sounds like a dietary disaster.”

Senko had only intended to offer the stall a glance on her way to meet up with her fiancée, her culinary curiosity burnt bright within her malign heart. Having made the slightest of eye contact with the vendor, she stepped over and slid between the roaming dragons.

“Ah! I was hoping to see you here.” She began to speak, shooting a fast wink at the merchant. “Your herbs were simply divine. I must say, spices in cereal – I’ll have to steal that idea from you, it was a hit.” She further went on.

At first, the merchant was a tad perplexed. He had only seen Senko in passing. Not many Vulpera bore horns from their brow, and one who lurked markets as much as she did was certainly a spectre one wouldn’t forget, as she continued to aid the sale, he shot a wide grin.

“Oh, you know me! Always happy to lend a paw.” He added, tipping the hat forward.

“… What’s the worst that can happen. I’ll take five-, no six bags please.” The customer spoke, eagerly plucking coin from purse.

Senko gave a smirk towards the vendor, she dipped her head and walked back into the thoroughfare. It was as she strode off, she repeated the phrase in her head: Rule four, support one another where you can, even the smallest bit of help can add up to something big. Her caravan had few rules, but they were impactful enough.

As Senko continued down the streets, she took inventory of the services being offered. A gnome and a goblin with engineering stalls next to each other, constantly firing fireworks and making each other’s gizmos and gadgets malfunction. A pandaren with several kettles, each brewing an herbal concoction. A troll downing a phial of some viscous liquid and flexing to a crowd of swooning Kaldorei. Stands and stalls lined the streets like bunting from lampposts, colourful canopies and flags fluttering and swaying.

Unfortunately, the sound and stench were also as eclectic as the goods and services being offered. The overwhelming stink of reagents being crushed, the deafening roar of haughty Shal’dorei laughter. Steel clanked and swears yelled as blacksmiths hit their faulds and fingers. It was a miracle she could hear her beloved call out her name.

The honeyed words of her wife-to-be broke through the miasma of mercantilism, providing Senko a beacon to walk towards. She weaved and, more often than not, elbowed her way through the crowd of the inconsiderate tall ones before reaching her destination. She saw Oonee with an armful of bottles, each one a different dye.

Oonee’s iconic voodoo mask sat squarely on her grey fur, her purple eyes piercing past the crude woodwork as she waved a bottle towards Senko. She took a quick glance at the stall and quickly deduced it was a tailoring stand. Each bottle sloshed with a colour that matched the canopies of the market. Oonee placed a few down back on the counter and gave a wide hug to Senko, bottles clinking together as her arms swung round.

“Been busy, have we?” Senko asked, placing a quick peck on the cheek.

“Of course, darling.” Oonee started, lowering her tone slightly. “They’re far cheaper than Dalaran here.”

Senko gave a chuckle: “Not like you to price watch, dear. Having trouble deciding a colour or are we going as a rainbow?”

Oonee flicked Senko’s ear with a claw, the half-grin and raised brows visible past the mask was something she had gotten used to.

“Hah hah(!)” Oonee said, her dry remark giving way to a giggle of actual mirth. Matrimonial banter beginning early. “I’m having trouble on which colour to go with to accent the dress. Any thoughts?”

Oonee scooped up the bottles again and held them to her chest. The liquids sloshed side to side, staining the glass slightly with each sway. Senko took a step back and admired the figure before her. She imagined each shade against Oonee’s fur and imagined a white dress. Her focus was broken when she had been caught staring just a bit too long.

“Try to imagine me in the dress, not out of it.” Oonee teased.

The comment caught Senko’s tongue in her cheek, of which had now adopted a crimson hue of blush. She fumbled her words before clearing her mind to give a reply.

“The pastel pink one. Matches your eyes, goes well with grey and white.” Senko affirmed, giving a nod.

“Great~! I’ll go buy some.” Oonee said, placing down the bottles and waving over the dyer.

Senko smiled as she crossed her arms, she took a deep breath and appreciated Valdrakken for what it was. A place of peace.

SEVEN YEARS AGO, VOL’DUN

The viceroy brushed past the guards’ long twin-blade polearms, the latent lightning in the skyglass crackled in the dark hallway. Braziers of blue flame lit the narrow and winding passageway up. At the end of the rough-hewn hallway was a stone door, thrice as big as any Sethrak with a serpent’s head carved in the middle. Each step the viceroy took, the guards clanged their weapons together. Harmless sparks flew off and littered the rug.

His fists were balled up in rage, the guards didn’t have time to open the door for the rampant official before he kicked the door in and entered the large, circular chamber. Once the royal chamber of Emperor Korthek, now a desolate room of misplaced grandeur. The floor had been carved with ornate iconography of Sethrak heroes and heroines – slavers and warlords all. The viceroy looked at his supposed equals with anger and contempt.

How he loathed his fellow inheritors, and they loathed him equally. With the demise of their emperor, the Faithless had been broken into clutches and petty bands who still shared the ideals of the empire, yet none would support one another in becoming the new sovereign. Each was dressed in the same scarlet toga and carried a sceptre; made from dry wood and fixed with a crystal ball.

Some styled themselves as princes or princesses, claiming descent from Korthek’s many concubines and mistresses, others as viceroys of the imperial territories across the merciless deserts. A meeting between such esteemed individuals was rare, even during the height of the empire, but now? Unheard of, save for dire circumstances – which this was.

“Viceroy Tsss’kon, a dissspleasssure asss alwaysss.” One of the figures began to speak.

“Sssave me your insssolence, falssse prince. You know why we are here, why we are all here.” The viceroy countered, slamming his badge of office into the cold floor. An authoritative bash.

“Do you have the final death toll yet, Viceroy? Or are we sssstill guessssing?” A softer, feminine voice asked.

“Five villagessss and jusssst over four-thousssand and five-hundred dead. Imperial and devoted alike.” Ts’kon replied, a hand running over the charred bangle. “No ssssurvivorsss, they had life drained from them.”

The gathered claimants gasped and spoke in hushed and hurried tones. Such a raw power was unknown to them, for they knew only the storms and the sands. The viceroy carried the soft stench of sulphur and brimstone around him, his exposure to such chaotic magic left a taint on his body and clothes.

“I have ssssent ssscoutsss to follow the tracksss. They’re Vulpera, that much we know. But thisss magic that wasss ussssed. It issss foreign. I ssssent my adjutant to the Devoted burrowsss, find out if they know any ssssussspectsss.” The viceroy said.

The gathered Sethrak murmured. While fights between Sethrak were rare, as the Faithless preferred to uphold the notion of racial supremacy and fought defensively against their zealous brothers, but even so, to think that their brethren would cast foul magics across the dunes out of spite? To snuff out an empire all knew were dying in such a vile manner was unthinkable.

The individuals nodded along to the viceroy, whether they liked him or not, he was the runner-up to become the next emperor. His decisiveness to investigate as opposed to blaming one another for perpetrating atrocities was a welcome change, however no-one would dare voice support.

Suddenly, the door burst open. The guards in the inner sanctum drew blades before realising it was one of their own. The Skycarver approached and knelt before the viceroy, giving narrowed glances at those present. His chest cavity heaved as he drew in breath.

“My lord,” he said, wheezing as the acrid, metallic taste burnt in his mouth. “I have a name for you.”

[halfmoondaze]

Jack and reader are broke up but Jack sees reader at the club and sees her getting touched on inappropriately and she’s uncomfortable so he steps in and helps her

Trigger Warning: mentions of sexual assault

Of all the places Y/N could think of, this one was the last one she would expect to find herself in on a Friday night. Even though she had only met her new co-worker Esme a few weeks ago, she managed to convince her to join her group of friends and go to the club after work. 

She wasn’t thrilled about the idea but considering she hasn’t gone out much since her breakup with Jack a month ago, she decided to give it a go, just for the sake of doing normal things people her age should be doing, instead of being home alone all day.

It wasn’t a messy breakup, but she just felt she had to let him go and put herself first, as she wasn’t going to wait around for him to commit to her and be her only one.  

In the thrill of the night, she danced a little and attempted to have fun, until she felt her social battery start to run out just a few minutes later and she felt like she needed to sat down. 

She was currently sitting in a bar stool, mentally pep talking herself into going back to the dance floor with her co-workers and hoping the night would end soon. 

“Excuse me”

Y/n turned around snapping out of her thoughts. 

“Oh…hi” 

“I just think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen” 

“Ok….” 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks. I’m good” Y/N said looking straight up hoping he cached the hint that she wasn’t interested.

To her surprise, he took a sit next to her. 

“How you doing?” 

“I’m doing alright” Y/N said still ignoring his gaze. 

“Good. That’s good. That’s better than the contrary” he laughed to himself awkwardly. 

“Yeah” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Emma” she lied. 

“Emma, I’m Brayden ” he said offering his hand for her to shake it. 

In return she just pursed her lips hoping he would just go away. 

“Do you wanna go to another place? I know some great spots nearby” 

“No, I’m good” 

In that moment he brushed his hand on Y/N’s tight. 

Y/N froze. In that moment her whole body shut down. 

“I know you’re looking for a good time let me make you feel good” he whispered into her ear. 

In that moment Jack appears. He made sure to keep an eye at the guy after noticing her sudden change of demeanor when he approached her.

Jack walked over to them, and he could see the fear in her eyes. 

Upon seeing Jack, she attempted to walk over to him, but Brayden grab her wrist before she could walk away. 

“Hey! Get your hands off her!” 

“Alright alright, there’s no need to get all dramatic here. We were just talking” he said putting his hands up in a dramatic way before walking away. 

It was clear he was intimidated by Jack. 

Y/N was still shaken up and numb by the whole situation. 

Jack rushed to her side. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” he asked in a softer tone. 

She tried to talk but she felt a lump on her throat preventing her from talking. 

“Hey, its ok. Let’s get out of here, I’ll take you home” he said. 

This was all her fault, and now she ruined Jack’s night. Perfect. She taught to herself. 

A big wave of shame hit her repeatedly as she sat on the passenger seat of Jack’s car in silence. He was trying to make conversation in hopes to distract her mind of what had just happened, but what he didn’t know, was that Y/N was so humiliated about making such a big fuss about this. 

“The guy was probably just being nice. She was clearly just overreacting. Did she cause a scene? How embarrassing” she thought to herself. 

She felt so bad she couldn’t even look at Jack and once they arrived at her apartment, she walked in silence and to her apartment with Jack following her behind. 

The following days were a blur for Y/N. She couldn’t remember the assault at the bar; Jack taking her home; or helping her getting to bed and staying with her until she fell asleep, while he washed up her clothes. 

“You didn’t have to bother” 

“I wanted to, because even if we once used to be more than friends…. I still care for you and I love you” 

“What?” you looked at him. 

“I love you. I know I never said it before, and I know you probably won’t believe me, but I think I’ve never felt like these for anyone before” 

“Jack-“ 

“It’s ok you don’t have to say anything. Right now, I just want to make sure you’re ok. And let you know that I’m here for you” 

Given the past days, it was clear Y/N wasn’t ready for that kind of relationship now, given the past series of events. And even if she didn’t remember any of it right now, Jack was determined to be there for her in whatever she needed. And if there was a chance for him, he was going to remain by her side waiting for her. 

[randomingoftherandomness]

Part 3 of the Shangzhi Mob AU

For @xinxiaojie coz fam legit put up with my sick day fic word vomit marathons and deserves good things ✌🏼

Part 1 | Part 2

—

Thursday nights, in Ziyu’s humble opinion, are the worst nights of the week.

It’s not a Friday night which will mark the start of a weekend, nor is it Saturday nights that are firmly for parties and fun. It’s not even Sunday nights that signal the end of the fun times and a sober reminder to buck up for the week ahead.

No.

It’s a Thursday night. Couple that with the fact he has to attend family dinners on Thursday nights, and Ziyu is about ready to fight whoever invented Thursdays.

He dreads them. Dreads them for the weight of expectation they bring — how each and every single one of those in his generation has been made to recite their achievements that they’ve made in the week.

And guess whose ‘achievements’ could always never quite pass muster.

On this particular Thursday night, Ziyu makes sure to delay his departure from his uni dorms for as long as he possibly can that afternoon. It takes a call from his stepmom, a lady he never wants to disappoint, to have him grumpily slip into his shoes and grab his coat before he becomes too late for it to be appropriate.

When his cab pulls up to the front doors of Gong Manor, he notices a man he has never seen before climbing the front steps and into the Manor. Strange. He didn’t know they were expecting guests tonight.

“You’re here.”

Lady Wuji, in all her cashmere and wool sweater and pressed cream trousers comes gliding down the banister when he sheds his coat for the butler to take.

He smiles at her, greeting her with kisses to her cheeks and bending his knees so that she can properly reach up to pat at his head. Though in her early 40s, his stepmother carries herself with a timeless grace that she easily passes for someone a decade younger.

“Come, your father is waiting for you,” She says, slipping their hands together like she used to when Ziyu was small and nervous about Thursday dinners. Now, Ziyu is older and still nervous about them, but can’t show it. It’s nice to not have to feel shamed for it.

“Is it me he’s waiting for, or is it his emotional punching bag that he needs?”

“Ziyu…” Lady Wuji sighs.

Not wanting to upset her further, he plasters on a smile and darts in for another cheeky kiss to her cheek. That seems to set her a little more at ease and they walk together to the grand dining room.

“You’re here.”

“Father,” Ziyu greets. Running his gaze to the other three persons in the room, “Huanyu gege. Shangjue gege… And this is?”

“This is Yuanzhi. You can call him saozi.”

The stranger he had seen earlier stands, bowing before sitting back down. Ziyu tips his head in response, caught a little off guard by that. The man must not have been any older than him and he’s married into the family?

Saozi? He knows that Huanyu gege is betrothed to the daughter of the Song family, so it can only mean…

“Shangjue gege, I suppose congratulations are in order?” Ziyu asks, taking the seat next to Lady Wuji, who seats herself to Huanyu gege’s right.

Shangjue gege, smiles, placid to the casual eye but Ziyu knows this man for all the grief he’d caused him in his teens with all the comparisons he had to put up with about how Shangjue was doing better at school, how Shangjue is picking up the ropes to the Jue gang so quickly, look at Shangjue taking back his territories.

That’s one of his smug ones and Ziyu prickles with instinctive annoyance.

“Thank you, didi,” Shangjue gege replies, looking over at Yuanzhi. “We’ll be having our tea ceremony in a few weeks. I’ll be looking forward to drinking your tea.”

He mentally makes a note to be distinctively unavailable then. Gods above, Ziyu hates Thursday nights.

[dayseternal-blog]

In Memory, Katarinahime. Part 10.

"For Fanfic Writer Appreciation Week, I had started a post that I didn't finish. It was going to be an in-depth review of her 'Serenity Prayer.' I was going to dig into her story structuring, her characterizations, her language...like. It was going to be a long post. And it's sitting in my drafts. And I never finished it. And she'll never see it. [...] I wonder if it's okay for me to just post a bunch of short reflections instead now."

For nhmonth2022, Day 11, Prompt: Serenity Prayer

“Serenity Prayer” by katarinahime - Rated M for depictions of domestic violence, substance abuse, and smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

Let’s start from the top with this work of art.

She dove on the ground for her phone, pushing it further under her seat so it would take longer to grab. It was a silly move. She couldn't stay down there forever. - Chapter 1, when Hinata sees Naruto walking toward her at the airport.

☝🏼 katarina has an amazing way with throwing in bits of self-deprecating humor into primarily ANGST stories that lightens the load just enough.

"I still have that scarf." He admits, smiling at her like he can't see her wanting to shrivel up and die.

I felt this.  The embarrassment, the simply relatable wording of wanting to shrivel up and die, like it came straight from any mortified consciousness.  And again, another sprinkle of humor here.  AND on top of that, the canon reference in a Modern aged-up AU!

A cracked iPhone 5c that her little sister let her use, matching the outdated MacBook that was thicker than a college text book. At the moment, they are her most prized possessions.

The first chapter is one of the BEST establishing introductions I’ve ever read, and yet there isn’t a single true flashback.  Hinata’s medication, abusive marriage, regrets, shames, they litter her thought process throughout that in no way interferes with the “now” narrative of meeting Naruto in an airport and waiting for a flight on standby.  We get a clear picture of everything she’s been through since high school, as well as worrisome insight into her mental health.

And all through Hinata’s pov, we get a shocking and intriguing glimpse into Naruto’s life.  Quite a few major players in the story are mentioned in the first chapter without any of them having a “spoken” line.  Various complex plot points are laid out that hold across the story - her financial instability, Ino’s business proposal, the unresolved divorce, her unanswered confession,... It’s crazy how well-thought out it is.

katarina develops the romance, character growth, friendships, family relationships, everything beautifully.  All sensitive topics are treated with care, rather than written to entertain a trope.  The fic goes beyond “what if?”, diving into difficult topics like domestic abuse, PTSD, substance abuse, anxiety, etc. without any romanticism.

She bites her lip and nods, leaving that evening without agreeing to anything. - Chapter 2, at the end of Naruto’s and Hinata’s “business meeting” at Ichiraku.

I’ll never get over the skill of this story.  Down to its structure, the layout is masterful.  It has the smoothest scene transitions I’ve ever read.  Ever.  In any fanfic or published book.  In one sentence, Hinata has left Naruto’s date invitation hanging and is working at Ino’s house the next morning.  In Chapter 5, within a few lines, Hinata is at a bar one night and then at Hanabi’s dress fitting the next day.  There are practically no scene breaks in the entire story except for, of course, at the end of a chapter.

"Oh, you forgot your name at the top." Hinata spotted.

"Oops." Shinachiku reached back for his pencil to fix his oversight. - Chapter 7, the first time Hinata babysits Shinachiku.

The CHILDREN.  Feel like real, actual children.  I’ve read so many fics where the children don’t act like children, or are not behaving at a maturity level appropriate to their age.  Shinachiku’s intelligence is off-the-charts, as expected of the son of Sakura, and his personality is spot-on for an only child.  His social awkwardness at a playground, his comfort level around adults, his attachment to routines, his inability at times to interpret admonishments correctly, there are a plethora of details put into this kid.

The details are vivid in every character, from Kurenai and her plant-based diet to Shikamaru and his AA coin, from Moegi with her opinions on pearl succulents to Mirai’s preteen snarky attitude.  There’s a huge cast and each one feels in-character like in canon.

“Yes, the stories are dangerous, she was right. A book is a magic carpet that flies you off elsewhere. A book is a door. You open it. You step through. Do you come back?” -  Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

Did you come back?

I opened the door to “Serenity Prayer.”  I loved her so much I never left, I traced the veins of her words and ordered my own in her image.

When you step through my doors, I hope you recognize her magic.

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[fredshufflepuff]

hiii can i request fred enemies to lovers with short hufflepuff reader where he just tease her endlessly abt her height and usually the reader ignores it but overtime it just becomes one of her biggest insecurities. other students began to bully the reader for the same reason and she just feel so unfair that they are doing that for something she cannot control. she became extremely quiet and avoid large crowd overall and fred noticed that. he saw what the other students are doing and saying abt the reader and got angry at them. he confronts reader and apologizes for everything he had done and tells her that she was perfect in her own way. sorry if it’s so long and detailed or confusing 😅 thank uuu i love your blog smmm

out of my control || f.w ✧˖*°࿐

summary: fred makes fun of your height relentlessly but doesn’t realize how it’s slowly breaking you.

a/n: did i not know how to head it? yes. are you going to bully me for it? NO >:(

warnings: enemies to lovers, fem!reader, language, teasing, draco being a bully >:/, asshole fred

word count: 1,982

“hey shortstack” a familiar voice taunted, the feeling of a sudden presence forming behind you.

you were on your tip toes trying to grab a potions book for your upcoming exam, obviously failing since it was placed on the second highest shelf.

you could’ve used your wand to wisk it down, but last time you did that you almost made the entire bookshelf come down.

which only peeved off madam pince into threatening you with a weeks worth of detention.

“what do you want, fred?” you asked, turning around and facing the dick who never seems to leave you alone.

“nothing much” he shrugged, reaching over you and grabbing the book you had been trying to get, “just wanted to see you.”

“see me?” your eyebrows raised in confusion as your head titled to the side, your fingers coming up to grab the book but fred pulled away.

“wow, short and gullible?” he laughed, tossing the book to the top of the shelf before walking off, your face heating up as you scoffed at his comment.

“bastard...”

a week went by of freds teasing only increasing, the boy commenting on your height and how small you were whenever he could, which, was a lot.

you didn’t know why he picked on you so much. you never crossed him in any way—that you knew of.

but you also didn’t want to come off as sensitive.

fred didn’t necessarily bully you per say, but his jabs and comments about how you looked—especially on things you couldn’t control, really stung.

you were currently paired with fred for a potions assignment, snape choosing the partners before telling everyone to get started.

“get the cauldron” the boy said, waving his hand at you before plopping himself down in the chair, your eyes narrowing at him in annoyance.

“you know i can’t fucking reach the cauldrons” you snapped, going to sit but fred pulled your chair away.

“that’s why i told you to go get it, it’ll be funny seeing you make a fool of yourself” he snapped, turning away from you with your chair so you couldn’t sit.

“go fuck yourself” you mumbled, storming towards the shelves of cauldrons as students started to make their way back.

you stood in front of the intimidating shelf with a heart clenching feeling in your chest. fred was right, you were destined to embarrass yourself—and no way in hell would snape let you levitate one down.

you looked around the room for a stool you could use, a frown on your face when you didn’t see one.

your hands reached up as you raised to your toes, squinting your eyes and turning your head to the side as you tried to grab the cauldron.

your fingers gripped the cool material of the pot before slowly sliding it towards you, not knowing how close it was to the edge until it dropped.

dropped on you.

it fell heavy on your foot as you yelped loudly in pain, falling to the ground as your hands tried desperately to catch yourself.

“ms.y/l/n! detention for two weeks, are you out of your mind?!” snape barked, everyone’s eyes on yours including freds.

“i-i didn’t do it on purpos—”

“zip it! longbottom-” snape snapped, the boy jumping nervously as he stuttered out a small ‘yes sir?’

“-bring her to madam pomfrey, come straight back when you’re done.”

you spent only an hour in the infirmary, pomfrey claiming you had sprained your foot, but broke your big toe in the process.

pomfrey wanted to keep you overnight, but you insisted on finishing your classes—or at least going back to rest in your dorm.

she gave you crutches and sent you on your way, reminding you that you were welcomed back to the infirmary if you changed your mind.

“crutches? really, tiny pants?”

“tiny pants?” you scoffed, adjusting your book bag that was threatening to fall, “really? how creative.”

“y’know, i was going to help you with your bag, but i think i’ll just watch you struggle” he said, making you scoff as you rolled your eyes.

“like i needed your help.”

just as those words left your mouth, your bag dropped to the ground with a thud.

you groaned mentally to yourself as you stared at the bag, fred laughing his ass off as you tried asking him to pick it up.

you felt stupid asking, but you were tired and your toe was in pain, you just wanted to get to your dorm.

“see you later, short stack.”

you countered up a quick levitation spell, struggling to cast it since you were balancing on one arm, the other leaning on your crutch.

when you finally did grab it, you hobbled your way to the hufflepuff common room while mumbling profanity’s under your breath—mostly cursing out fred for not helping and instead calling you names.

over the next few days your toe fully healed, madam pomfrey giving you a nasty but effective potion to help heal your bone quicker.

“take these three vials after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. start tomorrow morning” pomfrey said, handing you the tiny clear bottles as you nodded in response.

“thank you, i really appreciate it.”

you made your way out of the infirmary and back to your dorm, slipping past the students that hurried past you for today’s quidditch game, slytherin vs gryffindor.

“hey, short stack!” a familiar and irritating voice called, your legs moving faster as you sped walk down the corridor.

the footsteps got closer as you soon felt a heavy arm fall onto your shoulder, a small grunt leaving your lips as you shoved the boy away.

“oooh, snappy now are we?”

“fuck off.”

fred only laughed at your words, tossing his clean sweep back and forth as he followed you to the dorms.

“coming to the game?”

“no” you grumbled, praying to merlin the annoying red head would just leave you alone.

“awh what a shame, i was hoping on seeing my favorite cheerleader there,” his words were laced with sarcasm, the boy poking at your face as you shoved him once again.

he wanted a reaction,that’s what fred always wanted.

but you didn’t give him one, instead you went straight to your common room and up to your dorm, fred soon getting bored and heading off to his game.

you didn’t remember much from that night, just falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

you trudged your way to the main hall with your book bag tossed lazily over your shoulder, today being a free day for students to catch up on missing work and assignments.

you were planning on grabbing something small for breakfast before heading to the library to catch up on some studying.

you were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice you had ran straight into another student, your legs stumbling back as they cursed at you.

“watch it, first year!” draco malfoy scolded at you, your eyebrows furrowing together as your mouth fell open.

“i-i’m not a first year, i’m in the same year as you—”

“she’s just short” crabbe snickered, the blonde next to him chuckling as he eyed you up and down—which, made you extremely uncomfortable.

“stay out of my way, or you’ll get trampled” he said, his words sharp as they practically dug into your skin.

trampled? was he being serious?

“better yet, stay out of everyone’s way.”

later that day you stayed locked away in your dorm, deciding to just study there and snack on the treats you bought earlier on in the week.

you thought it was just fred that felt that way towards you, but apparently it wasn’t.

were you really that much of a burden to people?

you stayed locked away in your dorm till almost night fall. your eyes were burning from staring at the same wooden desk and book you had brought with you, along with your stomach rumbling since you hadn’t eaten much that day.

you decided to head back down to the main hall to grab some dinner and then come back up, wanting to make the trip as quick as possible.

but of course, knowing your luck, that didn’t happen.

you were walking down the ‘somewhat’ empty corridor when your eyes landed on fred, the red head smirking as he saw you which only made your stomach churn.

you tried turning around to take another path, but ran face first into someone who had been walking behind you.

“it’s the short hufflepuff again” the voice cackled, shoving you to the ground as your body hit the concrete with a thud, a low groan falling from your lips as your head started to spin.

“i said stay out of my way or you’ll get trampled, and guess what, i was true to my word” malfoy sneered, his friends laughing at his comment as your face reddened with embarrassment.

tears were pricking your eyes and your chest was heaving up and down, you felt so small compared to everyone else, you felt so tiny and defenseless.

“you want to see trampled, malfoy?” a voice boomed from behind you, your head snapping to the side as you watched fred approaching you from behind.

you felt intimidated by him, the way his body loomed over yours made you feel sick, especially with how he’s been treating you.

“ah, weasley! come to see the show?”

“there is no show, unless you prefer your goons here to see you receive a black eye” he said calmly, the blonde narrowing his eyes at the boy before shoving past everyone, crabbe and goyle running after him.

fred turned to see if you were okay, his eyes softening as he watched tears roll down your face.

“are you oka-”

“okay?! am i o-okay?” you asked, picking yourself up and violently rubbing your tears away, “no i’m not fred! malfoy was never the problem, it was always you!”

“but i-”

“you what?!” you spat, “you were just joking?”

“y/n, i never meant to hurt you” he mumbled, his face heating up as guilt formed in his stomach. he’s been a dick to you all this time and has just now realized what his words were really doing.

“then what was your intention?” you asked.

“i-i just” he didn’t know what to say, there was only one thing to say, “i’m sorry.”

“s-sorry?”

“sorry for picking on you every day for something you can’t control, sorry for making you struggle when you clearly needed help” he spewed out, not even stopping to think as the words he’s been meaning to say fell from his mouth, “i think you’re absolutely perfect the way you are, and i realize now how much of a jerk i was—how much i was hurting you.”

“how can you make fun of something i can’t control and then come to me saying i’m perfect the way i am? are you out of your mind?!” you asked, voice holding annoyance but mostly hurt—what was fred trying to get at?

“i just thought- it’s stupid i know but, i just thought teasing you would be easier than admitting my feelings.”

“f-feelings?”

“for you” he says, voice only just above a whisper as he let his words sink into you. he has feelings for you?

“but i understand if you don’t feel the same, i was rotten to you. i wouldn’t even help you pick up your bag when you were in crutches! i was just so blinded by my own stupidity to actually man up and do something-”

you cut fred off by pulling him into a kiss, his rambling coming to a stop as he melted into your touch. you had to stand on your tip toes to reach him, but fred helped by leaning over and cupping your face.

“i think your height is adorable” he mumbled against your lips, a blush taking over your face as you pulled him back into the kiss.

“just shut up and kiss me.”

fred weasley tag list 🏷 @90smalfoy @astoria-malfcy @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @ang9lic @malfoysbiitch @Harrypotter_Whore @aetheralist @miraclesoflove @amourtentiaa @myloveforluna @bellatrixscurls @an2402lths @marrymetheonott @skaratjung @wh0re4blaise @dreamxnotxfound @fjorelaant @pinkandblueblurbs

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[charmingyong]

Only Fate Can Tell

Prologue

Genre: Jaehyun x fem!reader, adorable bestfriend!Taeyong x Irene, marriage, fluff, slowburn, humour, angst

Warnings: slowburn, brief mention of mental health, babysitting children, alcohol consumption, awkward feelings, unrequited love, blinded by assumed thoughts,  an idiot to not acknowledge the feelings of love, suggestive at the end

Word count: 16k

Plot: You didn’t want to marry, but your parents were keen to find you a life partner considering your age. After numerous failed attempts of finding an alliance because you rejected all the potential ones after first meeting, your parents gave you a warning if you rejected yet another one. Therefore, much to your dismay, you chose to give Jung Jaehyun a chance.

A/N: This is a story of what happens before the marriage takes place (i.e. no married life scene in this part, and I will be writing a sequel). A few scenes were inspired by ‘The Return of Superman’ show. There’s a small surprise for Jaeyong stans. Songs of inspiration: Jaehyun’s I Like Me Better (Lauv), Love Me Now (NCT 127). Disclaimer: Taeyong x Irene is only for a fictional purpose in this story. If triggered, do not read this.

Gif: mine

© 2021 charmingyong.

- ❀ -

You dragged your feet to the entrance of the top floor restaurant, your palms getting sweaty as the doors slid open, making you hear the soft music more clearly. You were nowhere near interested in the blind date that your parents had set you up with. Even though you were itching to not show your face to the unfortunate man that had to see you, you didn’t have the heart to have your date be stood up by you.

You made eye contact with a female greeting you upon entry into the elegant establishment. “Hello ma’am. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, his name is Qian Kun.”

“Ah yes, please come this way.” She led you past the tables with light chatters, and you reached the end of the room where a man sat looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the miniature vehicles zooming on the highway.

“Sir, your date has arrived.”

Kun pried his eyes away from the window and towards you, a smile taking its place on his face. “Hello Miss Y/N. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the empty chair across him.

You nodded, timidly sitting down with your eyes wandering everywhere except on his.

“Would you like anything for starters?” he asked you gently.

You pursed your lips and shook your head. “Um, I need to tell you something.”

His lips formed an ‘oh’ and signaled for the server to leave you momentarily. “Yes, what is it?”

You took a deep breath in. “I only came here because my parents have been pestering me nonstop to get married. I’m really sorry but I’m not interested in marriage. It has nothing to do with you. It’s just me and I’m really sorry about that.”

Kun nodded, smiling tenderly at you. “I completely understand. I’m also here for that same reason.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You too?”

“Yes. I actually want to focus on my career, and so I was hoping to get married like a few years from now. Definitely not now,” he spoke his last words quietly.

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad we’re both on the same boat. So I guess I’ll be going then since there’s no point for me to be here now,” you chuckled nervously.

He shook his head. “Please don’t. It’d be a shame to have you leave here with an empty stomach. This can just be a friendly dinner. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

You couldn’t say no to his kind eyes, especially when he was being a gentleman. “A friendly dinner it is.”

- ❀ -

You rang the doorbell and waited for a few seconds. The door flung open, revealing a smiling Irene. “Y/N! How did it go?” she beamed, excited to hear the details.

“You know the answer to that.” You took off your shoes and walked inside the clean spacious condo. Your eyes landed on little Aera who was on her four and you cooed, running up to her. You picked her up, cradling her tiny body in your arms and smooching a number of kisses all over her face. In return, Aera squealed happily from the sudden love attack.

Irene sighed. “You seriously did it again? Not give him a chance?”

You sat down on the couch with Aera on your lap. “Well, we did have a friendly dinner. And besides, he wasn’t interested in marriage either and he wanted to focus on his career.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You got saved this time, but it might not happen again. I don’t know how many times your parents are going to let it slide until they’ve had enough and force you into an arranged marriage.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t this arranged anyway? Having to go on blind dates that they set me up with?”

“Yeah but you have a choice right now to say yes or no. What if next time you don’t get so lucky and they get fed up with you having to constantly reject every single one, and they force you into a marriage without your consent?”

You stilled, staring at Aera’s joyful face. Irene was right. There was a chance that you might not be lucky one day and be forced into a marriage without love. But you wanted to trust your parents that they’d let you choose your partner, no matter how long it’d take.

- ❀ -

You drove to your next blind date a few days later. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as you ground your teeth, remembering back to your parents’ words the previous night. Even though your head was heated, you tried to focus on the calming music that played from the audio system in your car, safely driving down the streets without any road rage.

You parked the car in the near vacant lot and stepped out. The date was held yet again at a luxurious restaurant and you sighed.

At least it’s not as expensive looking like the past ones, you thought.

You grasped the golden handle and pushed it open. The lighting wasn’t too bright, just dim enough to create a cozy ambiance.

“Hello madam, are you F/N L/N?” The male inquired.

Bewildered, you nodded. “Yes. How did you know?”

He smiled politely. “The entire restaurant is currently booked for Mister Jung Jaehyun.”

You looked around and indeed found it unoccupied of customers, only spotting a male figure at the opposite end of the place, his back facing you at a table.

“Please come this way.”

You followed, your legs becoming heavier with every step and your heart pounded in your chest.

Please let everything go well with him, you prayed silently.

The server pulled out your chair and you sat down without giving your date a glance. Once you were settled, you then looked up and your breathing halted momentarily.

His soft eyes were trained on you, along with a smile accompanied by dimples so handsome that you almost swooned.

But good looks aren’t going to mean anything if there’s no love, you thought.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N,” he greeted warmly.

You forced a smile out of courtesy. “Same here, Jaehyun.”

- ❀ -

“So how’s Jaehyun?” your mother asked with an vibrant smile.

You sighed. “Okay I guess.”

“So it’s a yes then,” your father stated.

You almost glared at him. “The date was okay. I didn’t feel anything with him.” Your palms were clenched tightly while you tried to slow your breathing down.

“Oh sweetie, you don’t have to feel anything for him. Love doesn’t have to happen right now. And Jaehyun’s a good boy. I’m sure he’ll make you happy,” your mother said.

You groaned quietly. “What if love never happens? He can’t make me happy if I don’t love him.”

“Your mother and I didn’t have any love in the beginning, but we learned to care for each other.”

“Caring is not the same as love.”

His hard gaze was locked on you. “It is.”

Grinding your teeth, you could never beat your father with his words.

Your father mentioned beforehand that if the date with Jaehyun also failed, then he was going to force you in a relationship with a man that you wouldn’t see until the day of the wedding. This meant that you were now, technically, arranged to marry Jaehyun.

You were at an age where your friends and relatives were already married, even having children. Your parents viewed societal expectations more important than your own, and so that resulted in you having to go on numerous blind dates with you fully prepared to turn down every single guy no matter what. You wanted to marry someone that you would love, and all the dates that your parents had set you up with were of men that met their ideal type as their future son-in-law.

The date with Jaehyun felt more awkward than with any previous ones. That was because with Jaehyun, you weren’t just there ready to reject him in the face as politely as possible, but you were trying to accept him as your future husband. While that would be something teenage you would squeal about in high school, you cringed greatly at that in your twenties. Your teenage self always dreamt of a grand wedding with the love of your life. But growing up, you accepted the reality. Not everyone was lucky to meet their love and the fact that you hadn’t met yours made you pessimistic.

Pessimistic that love wasn’t written in your fate.

So far, Jaehyun did seem like an okay guy and you could only wish that your feelings would grow for him, especially before the marriage date. Nothing about him upon first meeting had you dreading of a thing that you didn’t like in him. But... “Can I please seriously ask you something without you two being biased?”

Your parents looked a each other, embracing themselves for what you had to inquire. “Sure sweetie, what is it?”

You gulped down the bump forming in your throat. “What if I find out something bad about him before the wedding, or something I don’t like in him? Do I have to force myself to be with him still?” you asked with a puppy look to make your parents grow soft for you and agree.

A brief silence was what you were met with as they silently conversed with one another through their eyes. Your father released a long breath afterwards. “You have up until the time before the wedding invitations are distributed to give me a reason why you shouldn’t marry Jaehyun. And it must be a valid reason.”

- ❀ -

“Tae, are you even listening to me?”

His gaze was lowered onto the floating strawberries that swam around in his drink. “Yeah I am.” He took a long sip and smiled, humming in satisfaction. “Are you going to eat your pastry?”

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your seat. “You’re clearly not. My future is on the line and you want my pastry? You’re not even reacting to whatever I’m saying.”

He lifted his doe eyes onto you. “I am. But based on whatever you just said, the date didn’t sound like it went necessarily bad. All that happened was small talk and you two were silent most of the time.”

Your jaw dropped. “So now your gonna be on my parents’ side? Just because we were mostly silent doesn’t mean it didn’t go bad. What if we’re going to be like this after marriage? I can’t handle this awkwardness, Tae!”

“I’m not saying that I’m siding with your parents but give Jaehyun a chance. It was only the first meeting so obviously it’s going to feel awkward. Plus, based on the picture you showed me, he’s good looking.”

You blinked. “So?”

He shrugged, looking innocently at you. “Cute babies?”

“Shut up Lee Taeyong!”

He laughed, his head falling backward.

You sighed. “I can’t believe this. Why am I being forced into a marriage? Can’t they let me choose my partner?”

“They have been letting you for years, but you kept putting it off, Y/N.”

“Because I didn’t find the love of my life? I don’t like my parents’ choices where they always choose the one with money. I don’t want to marry a guy who’s only good with first impression but ends up being boring after marriage. I wanna meet someone like you, Tae. You’re so easy to love.”

Taeyong giggled. “I’m sure there are better guys out there than me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, you’re literally like the biggest cutest sweetheart on earth. I can’t even imagine someone beating your level. Irene is so lucky. If you didn’t fall in love with her, I would have asked for your hand in marriage,” you joked.

He shook his head, laughing hard. “Stop! You’re too much, Y/N. But don’t assume that all guys your parents try to set you up with are going to be boring. You don’t know the charms that Jaehyun’s carrying and before you know it, you’ll be falling for him.”

You sighed heavily. “Sounds too good to be true.”

He smiled sincerely. “Leave it up to your fate.” He looked behind you at the display case of the various baked goods before looking at your untouched pastry again. “So are you eating that or not?”

A smile tugged at your lips and you pushed your plate towards him. “Eat up. You need it more than me to keep up with the little angels in your home.”

After Taeyong devoured the chocolate tart, you both stepped out of the coffee shop with plans of heading over to the movies.

“I wish Irene could come with us, but the kids...” you trailed off.

Aera was only 9 months old and there was no way that little bundle would sit quietly for two hours unless she dozed off. Even if the problem was solved with Aera, Jinae was a year older and she was quite a curious and an energetic one. Though not more than Chunghee, the 4-year-old boy who was at the perfect age to be labeled as the troublemaker in the household.

“When I watch over the kids, you and Irene can have your girls night out. Or day, whatever time of the day it is.”

“Please make a vlog. I wanna see you struggle.”

Taeyong laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you but they love me more than Irene so they’re always listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe they’re scared of you.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m sure they’re scared of Irene.”

You giggled. “I can see that being the case more.”

After paying for the tickets, you and Taeyong walked in the direction of the designated auditorium. Halfway through, Taeyong halted. “Awe man!”

“What is it?”

“I want sweet potato chips. But the vending machines aren’t here anymore,” he pouted.

You pondered for a bit, recalling back to the food counter by the entrance. “I think I saw them selling it at the front.”

His eyes brightened. “Really? Okay stay right here. I’ll be back soon.” He sprinted off in the next second, leaving you amused by his usual childlike behaviour. You pulled your phone out to entertain yourself for the time being.

“Y/N?” A deep voice called out your name and you looked up to find the man that you were unexpectedly seeing for the second time. Your body tensed hearing his voice again, and your heart skipped a beat when your eyes landed on his outfit. It was nice to see Jaehyun wear denim, something outside of the formal attire at the restaurant. In his hands was a container full of popcorn.

“Oh Jaehyun. What a surprise,” you awkwardly chuckled.

He grinned at you. “It is. Are you here alone?”

You shook your head. “No, my friend went to get some snacks. Are you?”

“My friend had to go do something. I was waiting for him until I saw you from the distance.”

Right on cue, a tall man appeared beside Jaehyun and genuinely smiled at you. “Oh, hi there. I’m Johnny.”

You gave him a tight smile. “I’m Y/N.”

His eyes went wide. “Y/N?” He turned to Jaehyun and repeated. “Y/N?” Johnny raised his eyebrows incredulously. He received a nod from Jaehyun and faced you again. “Oh my goodness. I heard about you and it’s seriously a pleasure to meet you.”

“Huh?”

He laughed at your puzzled expression while Jaehyun avoided your gaze nervously, his cheeks dusting pink. “It’s nice to see Jaehyun talk about something other than his work. He’s so devoted to his work that he sometimes forgets to chill out.”

Your heart fell at his words.

Devoted to his work.

You were not into men who were so passionate about their work that they’d forget about their well being. And not just well being, but they’d spend less time with their significant other.

Taeyong used to be like that until Irene was diagnosed with postpartum depression. He then took time off from work for Irene’s recovery. With his full attention on her and taking care of their first-born, Irene fully recovered with the prescribed treatments and Taeyong’s love, and you were relieved that the illness didn’t come back with Jinae and Aera.

You weren’t necessarily afraid of what happened to Irene. Taeyong had to get back to work after Irene’s recovery and they were able to pull through because there was love and understanding between them. There was no love between you and Jaehyun, and so your relationship, whatever little there was, had to depend on understanding one another. And that was going to be difficult when you weren’t interested in the man.

You pursed your lip, anxiously waiting for your friend’s return.

And finally he did with three bags of chips in his arms. “Sorry I took long. Oh! Jaehyun, right? Hi, I’m Taeyong. And you must be his friend, am I right?” he asked the taller one, shaking his hand.

“Yes, the name is Johnny. Nice to meet you, Taeyong. And boy, you have some strength.” Johnny was always the one with the most amount of strength. Therefore, having to meet someone who possessed nearly the same amount was impressive to him.

Taeyong chuckled. “Well I definitely do need it when having to look after my kids.”

It was a coincidence that the other two were there to watch the same movie as you. Taeyong suggested for them to sit with you two, and you sent your friend a small glare to which he responded with a smirk.

That was how you ended up sitting beside Taeyong and Jaehyun, squirming a little in your seat. During the advertisements, you noticed a popcorn container being offered to you by none other than your future husband. And you felt a slight pang in your heart.

“Sorry but I don’t like popcorn,” you admitted.

He was taken aback slightly before nodding and placed his popcorn on his lap, all while avoiding your gaze. You felt a bit bad. He was trying to be nice to you, but you weren’t going to force yourself to eat something that you weren’t a fan of.

Right after, Taeyong offered you his snack. You loved sweet potato chips, being the one to actually introduce it to your friend and you were proud to have him addicted to them. You took hold of the bag entirely, hearing a whine from him. You munched on the chips and hummed happily.

Jaehyun observed this and felt a stab of jealousy.

- ❀ -

“Jinae!” you beamed at the little girl waddling up to your open arms. You picked her up and swung her around in circles, making her laugh cheerfully.

“Wow Jinae, you really betrayed papa for Y/N auntie,” Taeyong sulked.

You stuck your tongue out playfully at him and pecked Jinae on her squishy cheek.

Chunghee ran up to his dad, crying with teary eyes. “Aigoo, what happened?” Taeyong kneeled down to meet his son’s level.

“Mama force me fruits!” he wailed.

Taeyong closed his eyes. “I should have known Ten uncle was going to be a bad influence on you,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe you trusted Ten with Chunghee. Wasn’t it only for an hour?”

He nodded in response and wiped the little boy’s tears away, kissing his forehead and picking him up with his strong arms. He carried Chunghee off to the bedroom while you sat down on the couch with Jinae in your lap.

“Don’t become like your brother and eat fruits, okay? Don’t stress your papa out.”

“Eung,” she responded in promise. You smiled at her and ruffled her hair, earning a smile from the baby.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, moving Jinae down beside you. You pulled it out that displayed Jaehyun’s name on the screen. Right after the movie ended, you bid Jaehyun and his friend a quick bye and dragged Taeyong out the theaters, not giving a chance for small talk.

You hesitantly answered the call and pressed the phone against your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi Y/N,” he greeted softly. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, guessing where that question would lead to.

A date.

As much as you wanted to lie and avoid him, it ultimately wasn’t going to do any good for anyone, including yourself. Spending more time with him meant more opportunities to find a flaw in him.

“Um, yeah- I mean no! I’m not free- I mean I AM free... tomorrow. Haha.” You wanted to slap yourself in the head.

If it weren’t for the silence on both ends, you would have missed the almost inaudible giggle from him. “Can I come pick you up tomorrow around lunchtime? For a date?”

“Sure, yeah, sounds great,” you smiled awkwardly.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Once the call ended, you were ready to chuck your phone across the room before tossing it next to you and slumped against the couch, physically cringing at how the conversation went. Jinae curiously watched you, her baby lips forming an ‘oh’ followed by her eyes crinkling in amusement.

- ❀ -

The doorbell rang to your home, which your mother giddily ran up to the front. A smiling Jaehyun was revealed on the other side who held a bouquet of warm-coloured flowers.

“Hello Mrs. L/N.”

“Jaehyun! Lovely to see you. Come on in now,” she ushered him inside.

Jaehyun’s eyes wandered around the interior design of the house, catching sight of the wall with framed photos of your life, ranging from your birth to your graduation. The smile tugging at his lips was enough to have your mother beam at him.

“Y/N has always been such as adorable girl. Isn’t she pretty?” She cooed at the pictures of little you laugh towards the camera, your pupils hidden behind your closed eyelids.

Jaehyun felt something in his heart. When he first saw you at the restaurant, he thought you were more beautiful in person. The surprise encounter at the movies had his heart skipping a beat. Standing in front of a collage containing various stages of your life made his heart flutter, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He really liked you and wished everything would go well with this marriage.

“She’s beautiful,” he replied with sparkling eyes.

You stood hidden away behind a wall, eavesdropping. To say you felt embarrassed was an understatement. You cringed on the inside every time someone walked into the house and stared at your pictures. You never liked the idea, but you didn’t have a say in it as it was your parents’ house after all.

To hear your future husband call you beautiful after seeing those photos had heat threatening to burn your cheeks and a warm feeling spread in your chest.

“Jaehyun, can I ask you something?” your mother asked.

“Of course.”

She swallowed before parting her lips. “You see, Y/N’s been trying to put off her marriage for a while and I’m not sure exactly how she’s treating you.”

He nodded, comprehending her words clearly. During the first date, he noticed your jitteriness and near lack of liveliness to continue the conversation as if you weren’t interested in him at all, and that hurt him. To see you interact with your friend in a brighter manner made him jealous. Jealous that you wouldn’t see him like the way you would with Taeyong. Though he understood that your relationship with him was new and he was willing to give you all the time you needed to become comfortable with him one day.

“While her father and I made her give you a chance, you’re not obligated to be forced into this marriage if you’re not happy. If you ever want to back out, I ask you to do it only because you’re feeling that way. Not because of Y/N. I really think you’re a perfect match for her and I’m sure it’ll take time before you can fully win her heart.”

You gulped upon hearing your mother say all that to Jaehyun. This meant that if Jaehyun didn’t like something about you, he could back out of the alliance. Your brain celebrated in near victory that it wasn’t going to be a fully forced marriage, as both the bride- and groom-to-be had your voices free, increasing the chances for either of you to call off the wedding.

“I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Y/N,” Jaehyun assured.

You stepped out, walking up to where they both stood. He caught sight of you and sent you a charming smile, his dimples on full display.

You on the other hand grew curious of the bouquet in his grasp. He realized what you were staring at and grew flustered.

“Oh sorry!” He seemed like he was in a dilemma, whether to hand the bunch over to you or your mother, opting for the latter. “I-I brought these for your home,” he stuttered with the tips of his ears turning red.

Your mother giggled at his behaviour. “Oh thank you, Jaehyun. I thought you were giving those to Y/N. Seems like you got distracted by pictures of baby Y/N,” she teased.

Both yours and Jaehyun’s cheeks burned at your mother’s words.

After saying bye to your mother, Jaehyun beat you to opening the passenger door, holding it wide open for you to get in. You thanked him with a tight smile.

He had one hand on the steering wheel while the other fumbled around with the stereo, a song played softly in the background as he focused both on the road and on your tensed figure.

“I know this ramen place if you’re interested,” he spoke after some time.

You remembered mentioning to him in your small talk that you loved to eat ramen. Having him remembering the small detail made you feel a spark inside. “Ramen sounds great.” And what felt like the first time when being with Jaehyun, a small smile slowly spilled onto your face, not going unnoticed by the one beside you.

After two sets of bowls arrived at your table, your eyes drunk in the beautiful arrangement of the toppings on the noodles. You were about to pick up your chopsticks until Jaehyun stopped you. “Don’t touch yours just yet.”

You blinked at him confusedly yet stilled.

Grabbing his chopsticks in each hand, he worked with his bowl, mixing the pieces of vegetables and meats into the broth, folding the noodles on top. Once done, he laid down the chopsticks in its holder and switched his touched bowl with your untouched one.

You stared at your meal, surprised that such a simple action had your insides squealing with a fuzzy feeling. “Thank you,” you muttered, a bashful smile tugging at your lips.

He felt pleased with himself to make you feel that way and hoped he could continue doing so in the future. “No problem.”

Both of you dug into your noodles, slurped up the remaining broth once finished. You were glad that Jaehyun brought you for a casual lunch where you didn’t have to worry about manners and etiquettes as that sort of stuff did not go with ramen.

He later suggested a walk in the park in order to digest your full bellies. The weather was perfect, the sun blazing down onto your head and you were glad to have chosen a light-coloured outfit. Summer was nearing and soon enough, you were craving for a frozen dessert.

“Do you want something refreshing?” Jaehyun asked, almost like he read your thought.

“That sounds nice. Ice cream?” You pointed at the ice cream stall from afar.

He followed your finger and turned back to you, dimples reappearing. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Both your steps were synced, and he craved to hold your dangling hand. Craved to have his first ever physical touch with you. But he was worried if it was too soon and clenched his hands into fists to stop himself.

Approaching the stall, you read the long list of flavours, cheering internally when reading your favourites. “I’ll have a scoop of cherry and green tea each.”

Jaehyun turned to you with a look of mild surprise. “You like green tea?”

His face was unreadable so you couldn’t figure out whether he liked that or not. “Yeah, I love green tea. Why?”

He blinked before forming a blinding smile. “I love green tea too.”

After the ice cream date, Jaehyun drove you back home, parking his car in front of your house. He was surprised to see his parents’ vehicle in the driveway. “My parents are here.”

You nodded wordlessly. Your parents didn’t mention anything about a meet up between the two families. They only knew that you were going out with Jaehyun. “Let’s both go in.”

When you strolled into the living room with Jaehyun behind you, laughter was heard as the folks shared stories of you two.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

The eyes of a woman, who you assumed was Jaehyun’s mother, lightened up. “Oh Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She pulled you into a crushing hug, which you tried to reciprocate with your locked arms.

“Same here,” you chuckled breathlessly.

She pulled back and beamed at you, eager to spill the breaking news. “We finalized your engagement date.”

All the colour had drained from your face and you took a quick side glance at your parents. They knew that you weren’t going to be happy with the news and had hidden it from you. “When?” you asked.

You were somewhat glad that the woman in front of you didn’t notice your fallen face. “In two weeks. And after that happens, we’ll decide on the marriage date.”

This was happening way too fast for your liking. Even though it was just an engagement, why were they so eager for it to happen quickly? “Isn’t two weeks a little too early? We’re still trying to get to know each other,” you reasoned.

Your future mother-in-law’s excitement didn’t falter the slightest bit. “Nonsense. I’ve heard that this is your third time seeing each other. And I’m sure that if you keep meeting up, you’ll have a better idea of each other by the time of the engagement. Plus, the date falls on my birthday and it would mean the world if my gift happened to be my son’s and future daughter-in-law’s engagement.”

You understood her feelings, and she was right. Two weeks should give you a better idea of Jaehyun, give you time to grow your feelings for him if you could. And it was only an engagement. A marriage in two weeks would have been more devastating.

You stared long at your father, silently pleading for him to still remember the condition set. Sensing that he knew what your eyes were trying to convey, he simply gave you a curt nod. Meanwhile, Jaehyun met your mother’s hopeful gaze, who offered him a tight smile, wishing that everything would go well between him and her daughter. You noticed your mother’s eyes being trained behind you and turned to the man. He observed the worried expression plastered on your face, his heart breaking a little at the thought of you not being excited for the marriage like the way he was.

- ❀ -

“Y/N! Please be our angel and help us out,” Taeyong pleaded over the phone.

“Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I?”

A moment of silence before he replied, “Because of what I’m about to suggest to you?”

After the phone call ended, you lied down on your bed, not believing your fate. Though it wasn’t actually all fate. This was Taeyong partly trying to play cupid.

Both Taeyong and Irene had to go out of town for the entire weekend, including their parents. But children were not allowed at the event, and their babysitter also happened to fall ill, leaving them with no other backup than have you look after the three children. You had never taken care of three children at once and he knew you were going to need a helping hand. And that was when Taeyong suggested that you babysat the three with Jaehyun.

Your fingers hovered over the screen before pressing on Jaehyun’s number. You had met up with him the past week, for casual hangouts and meals. Yet nothing much had happened in terms of you growing feelings for the said man. The engagement was exactly a week away, and you accepted your fate of having to wear a silver ring as you failed to find a flaw in him.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun sounded quite surprised that you called him for the very first time when it had always been him initiating it.

“Haha yes, it’s me.” You really wanted to hit yourself for still sounding awkward with him. “I actually called to ask you... like are you busy this weekend? I mean including overnight.”

“No, I’m not busy. What is it?”

“Are you okay to babysit kids with me?”

“Kids? Well yes, but whose kids are you talking about?” Jaehyun was ecstatic to spend the weekend with you, even if it meant having to look after some children. He was good with children and hoped he could get closer to you through this.

“They’re Taeyong’s kids. Remember Taeyong the one you met at the movies? Him and his wife are going to be away for the weekend, and he asked me to babysit them with you because there’s three of them. It’s for two days and we’ll have to stay at their house overnight. Is that okay?”

I am more than okay with the plan! Jaehyun thought. But to not scare you, he pushed down the excitement bubbling in his chest and calmly answered, “Yeah that’s fine. No worries.”

- ❀ -

Before you could even ring the bell, the door opened, revealing an overly joyful Taeyong. He threw himself on you, hugging you tightly and you laughed at him. He did the same to Jaehyun, flustering him greatly. “Thank you so much for coming, Jaehyun. Come in and leave your bags over here.”

Putting down your duffel bag to the side, you found Irene sitting on the couch with Aera in her baby walker. The baby squealed upon seeing you, bouncing on her tiny knees. “Hi Jaehyun. Thank you so much for helping out. I’m Irene.”

Jaehyun smiled at her. “Nice to meet you, Irene. And it’s no problem at all.” Taeyong led Jaehyun to the kitchen to explain the procedures that you had already memorized from the numerous times you had visited them.

“You two are literally our lifesavers,” Irene said to you.

You laughed. “It’s nothing. I’m sure it’s going to be fun with the kids.” And not as awkward with Jaehyun around, you thought.

She shook her head. “We’re leaving you two with a challenge, and Chunghee is going to be a real troublemaker for that.”

After an hour later, Taeyong and Irene finally left after placing a ton of kisses all over their youngest daughter. Aera was the only one awake at that time while the other two slept. Once you locked the door, you turned around to find Jaehyun introducing himself to the little one.

“Hi Aera, my name is Jaehyun, but you can call me Jae uncle. Let’s be friends, hmm?” Aera bounced on her knees again, beaming at him and did her signature baby laugh.

The adorable interaction between Jaehyun and the baby girl made your heart melt.

Shortly before a loud wail was heard down the far end of the hall.

“Oh that sounds like Jinae. I’ll go get her,” you said. Jaehyun gave you a nod complemented with a smile. Aera let out a high-pitched shriek to grab the uncle’s attention again.

On your way to Jinae, Chunghee sprinted past you into the living room, his doe eyes searching for his parents and instead was met with an unknown man sitting beside his sister.

“You must be Chunghee, right?” The little boy nodded with confusion written on his face. “I’m Jaehyun. Jae uncle you can call me.”

“Where’s mama and papa?”

“They already left. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

Chunghee hummed and walked over to the uncle, sitting beside his sister. “Are you auntie’s boyfwiend?” he asked.

The curiosity had pink paint over Jaehyun’s cheeks. He didn’t know what to call the relationship to a four-year-old. “Not boyfriend exactly but we’re getting married.”

Chunghee blankly stared at Jaehyun. “Do you like each other?”

Jaehyun’s breathing halted for a second. “Um, yeah but not really. I mean- I like her, but I don’t know what she feels.”

You walked back in the room, noticing a calm Chunghee trying to process something into his small developing brain, while Jaehyun sat with a faint blush covering his cheeks. Jinae had stopped crying as soon as her little eyes landed on you and fell back to sleep in your arms. You gently laid Jinae down on the couch and recalled the first mission that your friends gave you.

Have Jinae and Chunghee eat fruits.

Jinae was sleeping soundlessly so that meant Chunghee was going to be the first one to eat them, and that was the real mission.

“I’ll cut up some snacks,” you said.

Jaehyun got up to his feet. “I’ll cut them. You can relax with them.” He knew what snacks you were referring to, sending you a comforting smile before dashing off to the kitchen.

“Auntie?” Chunghee called out.

“Hm?”

“Do you like uncle?”

Flustered, you asked, “Why are you asking me that?”

“Uncle like you. But he not boyfwiend. And you gonna marry him.”

What?

Jaehyun liked you?

“Jaehyun uncle told you this?”

He nodded.

Jaehyun likes you, you thought repeatedly in your head. 

But it didn’t mean anything when you didn’t feel the same way.

After a few minutes, the said man returned with a plate of fruit varieties chopped up into small pieces. “Okay Chunghee, eat up.” He placed the plate on the foam mat covering the floor, away from Aera in case her baby walker bulldozed over the snacks.

The little boy huffed and crossed his tiny arms. “No fruits!”

“It’s going to be difficult feeding him fruits. We’ll have to figure out a way to get him desperate to eat them,” you mentioned. You picked up this idea from a movie you watched a while back and the tactic worked on the child in the film.

Jaehyun nodded and in a gentle tone told Chunghee, “I’ll keep this out in case you change your mind and become hungry. Okay?”

“But you’re not going to get any other food until you eat these,” you added sternly, hoping the strictness in your voice would have Chunghee obey.

Chunghee’s scowl faltered, not believing your words. “You won’t do that,” he responded but there was a hint of shakiness in his words.

Jaehyun went with your flow. “We don’t want to but we’ll have to,” he ended the supposed scary words with a smile to not scare the little boy too much.

The rest of the day went on with Jinae getting along well with Jaehyun, Aera sleeping shortly, and Chunghee frowning. He was the only one remaining who hadn’t touched the fruits yet and you grew concerned. Dinnertime was fast approaching and if the boy didn’t get a proper meal, then he was going to throw a tantrum.

Jaehyun offered to cook for everyone and you were surprised that he took up the task solely. “Are you sure? I can help,” you offered.

He hesitated for a moment, thinking about something briefly before he raised his hand to cup your face delicately, smiling at you. “Don’t worry. I got this,” he breathed out quietly. He retracted his and made his way towards the kitchen. Little did both of you know the true effect that the small touch had on the other, both of your hearts beating erratically as Jaehyun hurriedly hid in the kitchen while you stood frozen in your spot.

Four bowls of food were set on the table. For you, Jaehyun, Jinae, and Aera (though baby safe).

“Woa!” Jinae exclaimed before digging into her food with her baby chopsticks. Jaehyun began feeding Aera spoonfuls in the form of an airplane swooshing in the air, making Aera squeal joyfully. You stifled back a laugh from how funny Jaehyun looked doing that.

Hearing a faint grumble beside you, you anxiously glanced at Chunghee. The plate consisting of his share of fruits was left abandoned in the living room. “Where’s my food?” he asked.

“You know the deal. First fruits, then food,” you answered.

Chunghee couldn’t believe his ears. His parents had always given up eventually, no matter how hard they tried to get him to eat the naturally sweet products. “I. Want. Food!” he screamed.

This caused Aera to start crying and Jinae to stop eating her food altogether. You gave Jinae a side hug, rubbing her arm and let out a deep sigh. “Chunghee, if you’re going to keep this up, go into the living room. Let your sisters eat. It’s not their fault that you don’t want to eat something that Jinae already had.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. “You’re so mean!” he yelled and ran into the said room.

Jaehyun wiped Aera’s tears away and picked her up to soothe her, calmly her down shortly. “We’ll have to think of something else,” he told you.

“I don’t understand why Chunghee has such a huge problem with fruits,” you spoke. “He became like this ever since Ten looked after him one time.”

Jaehyun took in what you said, his mind raking up on a solution. “I think I can figure this problem out. Can you feed Aera while I go see him?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Jaehyun found the little boy whimpering quietly as he hugged his legs to his chest. Chunghee’s sad eyes made Jaehyun feel a twinge in his heart. If there was something else behind it like a fear, he would have opted for a better solution.

Jaehyun sat down beside him. “I’m sorry,” he spoke tenderly.

The boy stayed put and sniffed, letting tears slide down his reddened cheeks. Jaehyun wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong, Chunghee? Why won’t you eat fruits?”

Chunghee was still upset with his auntie and uncle, and so he didn’t respond back.

“How can I help you if you don’t tell me? Did Ten uncle say something bad about it?”

Those words stirred something inside the boy and he let his guard down. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Bullseye. Jaehyun felt like he was close to solving the problem. “What did he say?”

Chunghee finally looked at the uncle with glistening eyes and answered, “Fruits will grow in my stomach.”

Fruits...

What?

Bewildered Jaehyun tried to compose himself before confirming. “So you won’t eat fruits because you’re scared that fruits will grow in your stomach?”

A nod.

Jaehyun faced away from the naïve boy and a smile threatened to spill onto his face. He was amused by the boy’s innocent fear, but at the same time he wanted to meet this Ten guy and smack him for installing the fear into the poor child. He turned serious again and softly said, “Chunghee, don’t worry because that’s not true. If it was, wouldn’t everyone be scared to eat it? Auntie and I wouldn’t have eaten it earlier if that was true. You saw us eat it, right?”

A glimmer of hope sparkled in his doe eyes. “It’s not?”

He smiled. “It’s not.”

“But seeds...”

“Yes, there are fruit seeds that you shouldn’t eat. But if you accidentally eat those, then they’ll come out of you when you go for a potty,” Jaehyun said, ruffling the boy’s hair. A smile finally emerged onto the little boy’s face and they laughed. “So are you going to trust us and your parents now to eat fruits?”

Chunghee hopped off the couch and grabbed the abandoned plate, at last popping a piece of chopped strawberry into his mouth. “I will.”

You were shocked to say the least for the boy to have finished up all the remaining fruits and had his meal with his siblings. You gave Jaehyun a questioning look, to which he smiled and mouthed ‘later.’

After a bit of playing around to digest the meal, you tucked Jinae and Chunghee in bed and walked back into the living room and found Jaehyun carrying Aera in the baby carrier, soothing her to sleep. Aera’s bed was separate from her older siblings as she needed more attention from adults. Thus, her bed was in the same room as Taeyong’s and Irene’s.

You thought back to your day spent with Jaehyun and the kids, amazed by how great Jaehyun was with small children. From looking after Aera to playing with Jinae to making Chunghee eat fruits. He really was going to be a great father one day. But was he going to be the father of your children?

Cute babies. Taeyong’s words echoed in your head.

With Jaehyun’s looks, there was no doubt about that. But did you really care about that? No. All babies were adorable no matter what. 

Uncle like you. Chunghee’s words rang in your head just then, and you didn’t realize you were staring at him until he stared back at you, shaking you out of your thoughts. Clearing your throat, you spoke up an issue. “So Taeyong and Irene only have one bed, same room as Aera’s so...” you trailed off, not sure how Jaehyun was going to take that in.

He nodded, not displaying any emotions. “I can sleep on the couch here. You can take the bed.”

Your eyes widened. “No! I didn’t mean- I mean... we should probably start becoming comfortable with each other, you know?”

His lips formed a small ‘oh.’ “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He didn’t want you to force yourself and feel uneasy.

This was your future husband for goodness sake. You had to become comfortable with him at one point in your life. “Yeah, I feel like I can trust you, especially since Aera will be in the same room too. Haha.” There you went sounding awkward again.

Jaehyun bit back a smile and nodded. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

In the bedroom, Jaehyun carefully laid sleeping Aera in her bed while you settled yourself on one side of the bed, facing away from Jaehyun’s side. You were glad that your friends selected a king-sized bed, giving you ample of space to maintain a comfortable distance from him. Jaehyun got under the shared blanket and before he switched off the nightlamp, he softly called for you. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

He silently drunk in the scene in his view. You next to him, a baby in her own bed, almost like a small family ready to doze off to dreamland. He wished this was what his future would look like, though only with you in it. “I really like you, Y/N,” he confessed and right away turned off the remaining light source, leaving your heart to hammer loudly in the dark.

- ❀ -

“Papa!” Chunghee ran into Taeyong’s open arms.

“My baby! Mwah,” Taeyong smooched the boy’s cheek with a wet kiss, making Chunghee shriek and run away.

Aera beamed in your arms upon seeing her mama’s face, making Irene take hold of the youngest and planted a haste kiss on her forehead.

Jinae waddled up to her papa, babbling for him to do the same with her as her super tiny arms rose up, asking to be picking up. Taeyong laughed and submitted, smooching a huge kiss onto her chubby cheek.

“How did it go? I hope the kids didn’t trouble you too much,” Irene said.

Jaehyun shook his head. “They didn’t trouble us. We managed to get Chunghee to eat fruits.”

Shock registered on Taeyong and Irene. “Did you just say Chunghee ate fruits?” Irene asked.

Chunghee beamed. “I did mama!”

Taeyong nodded his head slowly, letting the news settle in his brain. “Let me take you two out. As thanks for babysitting them and completing the mission.”

- ❀ -

Taeyong drove you and Jaehyun to his favourite coffee shop, the one you frequently visited with him that sold the most delectable pastries.

“I cannot believe I didn’t think about him having a fear, which makes sense because Ten also has a fear,” Taeyong said and took a bite of his strawberry Danish.

“Does Ten have the same fear?” Jaehyun asked.

You shook your head. “Nope. Apparently for Ten, it’s because fruits just look scary. I kind of find it funny that Ten thought of the whole seed thing and it grows in your stomach. It sounds so real and I’m sure a lot of people had that thought once in their life.”

Taeyong stopped chewing, a thought clicking to him. “You know Ten isn’t exactly wrong.”

Both you and Jaehyun stared at Taeyong, waiting for him to elaborate.

“How else do you make babies?”

“Lee Taeyong!” you yelled and slammed your hands on the table out of sheer embarrassment.

His laughter resonated in the café while Jaehyun’s cheeks burned red.

You grabbed Taeyong’s strawberry acai lemonade, taking huge sips of it as retribution. He whined and successfully retrieved it from you, shielding his body with it so that you wouldn’t steal it from him again.

You pouted. “Hey! I want some too!”

Taeyong took a quick glance at the silent one across from you, noting how Jaehyun’s eyes were masked with a hint of jealousy as he watched you be your playful self with your friend. Taeyong then met your eyes and nodded in Jaehyun’s direction. You frowned, not understanding what he was trying to hint at you. He casted his eyes on Jaehyun’s drink and later raised his own to take a sip. That was when it clicked you.

Your lips parted in surprise and turned to focus on the man across from you. His eyes were trained on swirling his drink with the straw. You cleared your throat, hoping you weren’t going to sound awkward. And of course, you failed. “Um, Jaehyun, can I um... try your drink?”

Jaehyun froze and lifted his gaze slowly. “Yeah of course,” he replied quietly and pushed his drink in your direction. You pressed your lips together on the straw, sipping the iced caramel macchiato. “Mmm,” you moaned. “This tastes better than Taeyong’s.”

“Hey! Don’t insult my drink!”

You laughed and stuck your tongue out at him while Jaehyun stared at you with a growing tender smile, super pleased that you liked his drink.

- ❀ -

[Two months later]

For the long weekend ahead of you, Taeyong and Irene planned a trip for you and Jaehyun to a rental vacation home. Now that you were engaged, Taeyong reasoned that a bachelor and bachelorette trip was a must. You were super grateful that your two friends also tagged along after dropping the kids off at Taeyong’s parents’ house.

It had been over a month ever since the engagement and even more hangouts, yet you still felt a little awkward with Jaehyun. After all, he was the man that you were eventually getting married to and you didn’t have any strong feelings of love for him.

Even if you did, you didn’t realize it.

Once arriving at the vacation home in the rental car, you were stunned by its exterior design. The neatly trimmed grass with small evergreen shrubs ran along the edges of the huge light up swimming pool, located off to the side from the entrance. The pool was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling rooms of the house, giving a few rooms a full view of the amenity. Even though you weren’t a fan of luxury, spending three days at that specific rental home sounded exciting.

The interior was just as jaw-dropping as the exterior and you spent the next few minutes walking around, familiarizing with the layout and where everything was located. Your friends and your fiancé were already sitting in the living room.

“This place is so cool!” you grinned.

“I’m glad you love it. Irene found this so it’s all thanks to her,” Taeyong said and pecked his wife on the cheek.

Irene squirmed. “Hey! Not in front of the kids!” she scolded her childlike husband.

You quirked an eyebrow up. “Excuse me? I am not a child.”

“You still are considered one until you’re married and have kids,” Taeyong stated.

You rolled your eyes at his words. He was right, and you felt like that with the way they treated you at times.

When the sun reached its peak midday, the four of you got into the vehicle and drove over to the closest supermarket with plans of stocking up on food and alcoholic drinks. You decided to split up into two groups, making Jaehyun hang around Taeyong while you walked with Irene.

Jaehyun pushed the cart into one of the aisles, containing a variety of pasta and sauces. “Can I make Italian for dinner tonight?” he asked.

Taeyong nodded. “Of course. Do you like Mexican? I can make that tomorrow.” Jaehyun nodded, giving him a weak smile. Taeyong noticed it and asked, “Is something wrong? It’s okay if you don’t like Mexican.”

Jaehyun stopped pushing the cart. “No, it’s not that. I...”

Taeyong waited patiently.

Jaehyun pressed his lips together before continuing. “I’ll tell you later.”

Meanwhile, you and Irene dumped whatever caught your sight into the cart.

“Y/N? Can I ask you something seriously?”

You let out a hum as a yes.

“How do you really feel about Jaehyun?”

You suddenly forgot how to read the labels on the shelves. Facing her, all that came out of your mouth was a ‘huh?’

Irene slowly repeated yourself, as if you had a hard time comprehending her words. “How do you feel with the engagement ring on your hand that Jaehyun put on? I’ve been seriously observing you the past months. Your actions, your words. Never do you talk about Jaehyun and you still act like you’re new with him.”

You blankly stared at the sparkling diamond ring resting on your third finger. Irene was right. You never talked about him, not giving him much of an interest. It was as if you had gotten used to having around him for the sake of your future being tied with his. “I don’t really know, Irene. I mean I do at times feel like I have a small crush on him. He is a good guy, but I don’t... I don’t know. Even though he already confessed to me that he likes me. Plus, he’s really calm...”

Irene was silent for a moment. “He is. But do you ever notice the way he’s like around you?”

You blinked confusedly. “What?”

“He’s always looking at you. I mean not in a creepy way. But he’s always smiling around you. Taeyong tells me how you don’t notice the little things with him and it sounds like Jaehyun gets jealous? Everyone has their own way of expressing themselves, expressing their love for their significant other. Jaehyun might not be obvious like Taeyong, but that doesn’t mean his love for you isn’t there.”

- ❀ -

Arriving back with the trunk full of groceries, it was finally time for Taeyong to have fun. Once all the groceries were put away in the kitchen, Taeyong sprinted out the glass doors, screaming high-pitched, and jumped into the swimming pool.

You laughed. “He really jumped in fully clothed.”

Irene sighed, walking over to him. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m a mother of four kids.” When Taeyong’s head popped up, she bent down close to the edge. “You should have at least changed into your swimming clothes,” she scolded.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he caught Irene off guard by pulling her into the water. She yelped, losing balance due to his strength, and felt the cold water hit her skin. “Taeyong! Are you crazy?” she yelled.

He laughed, pulling her into his arms. “I’m crazy for you, baby,” and smooched a wet kiss on her cheek.

You and Jaehyun ended up watching their adorable interaction from the sidelines of the pool and just then, Irene’s words voiced in your head.

Jaehyun might not be obvious like Taeyong, but that doesn’t mean his love for you isn’t there.

“Jaehyun?”

He turned to you. “Yes?”

“Do you know how to swim?”

He nodded. “Yeah I do.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m sorry.”

“For wha-”

You pushed him into the pool with all your strength, clutching your stomach as you laughed hard after he resurfaced. He gave you an amused smile with his hands on his hips. He loved that you were happily laughing at him, loved seeing you finally become playful with him.

“You know Y/N, it’s not fair that you’re the only one outside the pool,” Jaehyun teased you.

You agreed and backed up a few steps before running and jumping into the water. When your head resurfaced, you began splashing water on Jaehyun, to which he let out a hearty laugh and copied your actions.

Taeyong and Irene looked between you two in shock and then at each other. The husband took this opportunity to plant another huge fat kiss on his wife’s cheek, making her yelp again.

When the sky turned a shade darker and the hot humid air shifted slightly chillier, the four of you headed back inside to dry up. Of course, you were bound to share the bedroom with your fiancé, thankful of having previous experience with that. Jaehyun kindly let you use the room first, giving you privacy while he lazed on the outdoor chair, letting the sunset dry him up as much as it could before taking the matter in his own hands.

You stepped out of the ensuite bathroom, the covers of the floor-to-ceiling windows completely raised up and you spotted Jaehyun immediately. Knocking on the window, you got his attention right away and cued him that it was his turn.

Just like Jaehyun gave you privacy, you did the same for him.

You settled for the living room, the biggest area in the house. Taeyong and Irene were nowhere in sight, leaving you to entertain yourself. When you dug your hands into your pockets, you realized that your phone was forgotten in the bedroom.

If it was Irene or Taeyong in the room, you would have walked right in. But you stood outside the closed door, shifting on your feet and debating heavily as to what your next action should be. Knocking would be appropriate but this was your fiancé for heaven’s sake. You shouldn’t be knocking on the door for permission when this sort of thing was going to become a regular thing in the future.

You grabbed the doorknob, turning it clockwise and pushed it opened slightly. Your head peeked in, searching for him. When you couldn’t, thinking that he was already in the bathroom, you walked in cautiously. Right before you passed the bathroom, the door opened and out walked Jaehyun. His jeans and hair were still damp from the event earlier.

But what had you two react the way you did after was for the fact that he held his damp shirt in his hand, leaving his abs on fully display.

The speed at which both his and your eyes enlarged and twirled away from one another would make anyone think that both of you were not in a relationship. Let along engaged.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here,” he said and quickly put on his shirt. “I put my shirt on. You can turn around now.”

You let out an inaudible breath and turned, slightly disappointed to not see his abs anymore. “I’m sorry. I should have knocked but I thought... um...” You lost your words when a smile tugged at the ends of his lips.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were comfortable enough to do that.”

You weren’t aware that your fiancé was in charge of dinner that night and was surprised to learn how much of a great chef Jaehyun was, even better than Taeyong as shocking as it sounded. Yes, he did cook before when babysitting but that was children-friendly, unlike the elegant cuisine of your favourite Italian dish that you had eaten in your first ever date with him.

- ❀ -

The next morning, you woke up feeling the bed occupied behind you. You stretched your limbs and turned around, suddenly forgetting how to breath when your eyes landed on Jaehyun’s sleeping face, facing in your direction. You wanted to touch his milky face, confirm whether it really was as soft as it seemed. His bare lips slightly parted and you wished to feel them on you.

Jaehyun felt a gaze on him and slowly fluttered his eyelids up. The eye contact had you jolt up from surprise while he stayed rooted in his lying position.

“I- I’m gonna go get ready,” you stuttered and bolted for the bathroom, locking the door behind you, and placed a hand over your racing heart.

Jaehyun sat up on the bed and smiled over how adorable you were. “Cute,” he whispered.

After breakfast, Taeyong and Jaehyun decided to go hiking nearby while you and Irene laid down on the outdoor lounge chairs, sprawling under the morning light.

The hiking trail was not too long and both men had reached the top in no time. Emerging from the trees, they were blessed by the breathtaking view of the mountains with a river that separated the mountains from where they stood. The morning birds chirped nearby, and the light breeze carried the echoes to their ears.

“Wow,” Jaehyun whispered. He felt as if a blanket was draped over him. A beautiful blanket consisting of your warmth.

“Beautiful, right?”

He nodded. “I wish Y/N and Irene came with us.”

“Same. I try to get Irene to come with me whenever I’d go hiking. But she would rather rest at home. I don’t blame her. Taking care of three small children is a lot.” Taeyong looked at the Jaehyun. “I don’t know how I survived all the times I had to do it by myself and Y/N always cracks jokes about me suffering.”

Jaehyun glanced at him with a small smile before turning back to the view.

Though Taeyong’s gaze was still locked on him. “Jaehyun?”

He took a deep breath, willing himself to take the time and ask your friend something that had been on his mind since the beginning. “How is Y/N so comfortable with you? I wish she could be like that with me.” Jaehyun was glad that he was starting to see you become comfortable with him during the trip. Even though it made his heart super happy, he craved for more from you.

Taeyong’s eyebrows raised up when finally learning the issue. “Well, that’s something that will depend on time. And the person too. When she first met me, I was a hot chubby mess, always clumsy and super clingy to my friends. I was naughty too, playful and pulling pranks. That’s how Y/N’s always seen me as since elementary school.”

The speed at which Jaehyun whipped his head to the man beside him had Taeyong chuckling. “Elementary... that long?” That all made sense to him. Being friends with Taeyong that long would only make you feel so at ease around him. And with that fact, another wave of jealousy hit him. How could Jaehyun beat that time before the marriage? Jaehyun was nowhere near Taeyong’s personality and he envied that to a great extent. On top of that, he didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him when you weren’t sure about it yourself.

A hand patted lightly on Jaehyun’s head. “Aigoo, is Jaehyunie jealous?” Taeyong teased.

Heat rose up to his cheeks, bluntly denying him, resulting in a roar of laughter from the married one.

“Don’t worry, Jaehyun. You’re a really good guy and I really think Y/N will like you back one day.” Sure, Taeyong was your best friend, but even he couldn’t figure out where a girl’s heart truly lied unless he had a chat with you. Regardless though, he would try to push you closer to Jaehyun, hoping that you’d break your assumed thoughts and give your fiancé a chance. A strong intuitive feeling of his told him that you and Jaehyun were destined to be together.

- ❀ -

Never Have I Ever.

That was a game that Taeyong had prepared for this trip. He had searched up a bunch of questions and written them down on a list of paper in case someone had a hard time to come up with a statement. The original game that he had planned included alcoholic drinks, but Irene had changed it to holding a hand up.

“Why? I wanted to drink!” Taeyong whined while wiggling in his seat.

Irene tsked. “Not right now. We’ll drink after dinner.”

He pouted, eventually agreeing with her words. Even though he was in charge of dinner that night, he couldn’t stop the desperate feeling of having one drink beforehand. “Okay, let’s start.” Taeyong spun an empty water bottle on the dining table and the opening pointed at Irene.

“Wow.” She picked up the list and scanned through the questions, immediately catching sight of one. “Never have I ever thrown a drink at someone,” she said and gave her husband an unamused look.

Only Taeyong raised his arm, knowing exactly what she was thinking about. And to his defense, he responded, “Come on, baby. You saw that guy! He was being rude to his mother. How could I not do anything?”

“But you could have talked it out. You didn’t have to throw your drink at him. We nearly got kicked out of the restaurant before we could even get our meal.”

“I would have made dinner for us then!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Okay guys, don’t fight,” you talked over them and grabbed the list from Irene, rolling your eyes at one of the questions. “Never have I ever fought in public.” You knew right away who were going to put up their hands.

Taeyong and Irene.

Irene crossed her arms. “Taeyong can get so childish when it comes to stuffed animals and chocolates that I have to nag him.”

Taeyong pouted. “Hey! At least I’m setting a good role model that adults should be child at heart, baby.”

But what you didn’t expect was that Jaehyun raised his hand up as well. “Well I wouldn’t say public like that, but I would hold onto my stand at work, which would raise some disputes. I know when to give up, but I can’t let a project go down the wrong path for the sake of maintaining peace in the company.”

You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with that, and you liked that thing about Jaehyun.

Taeyong grabbed the list from you, going next. “Never have I ever went on a solo vacation.” Taeyong never went on one, and wished he never did. Where was the fun when you weren’t on an adventure with someone?

Jaehyun was the sole person to raise his arm and you were aware of what he was implying to. He had informed you that he would be gone for some business in Paris a few weeks back and asked if you wanted to join him. Jaehyun felt bad for leaving you, but you spending a whole week in Paris with only him made your stomach lurch. Whether in a good way or bad, you didn’t know, thus rejecting his offer. You weren’t ready for such a stage in the relationship despite being newly engaged back then.

Pushing his broken heart aside, he explored the city in his free time. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you throughout the whole trip, even during the conferences that he was there for. Trips were something he used to enjoy solely. But after meeting you, he would have liked them better if he was with you.

He pushed the feeling aside and merely answered, “I went to Paris, mainly for business though.” He then asked something interesting that caught his attention on Taeyong’s list. “Never have I ever broken someone’s bone.”

You turned to Taeyong, shooting him a ‘what the hell’ look. “What kind of question is that?” Breaking your own bone was understandable. But why on earth would someone break someone else’s bone?

As expected, no one else except for the man himself raised his arm and chuckled. “I tweaked the question up because I technically did.”

Irene sighed. “It wasn’t you. It was on accident and it wasn’t Chunghee’s fault either.”

He sighed feeling a bit dejected. “I know but I feel responsible for what happened to Ten. Like I should have taught Chunghee better. Anyway, let’s move on.”

It was Irene’s turn again, and this time she yelped at reading one of the questions near the bottom of the page. “Never have I ever went skinny-dipping. What the hell, Taeyong?”

No one had raised their hand, and you were thankful for it because you wouldn’t know what to do with that information if either your married friends or your fiancé had done it before.

Taeyong wiggled his eyebrows at his wife suggestively, making her smack him hard in the chest and causing a windshield wiping laughter from him. “I really think it should be on our bucket list, babe,” he said.

“TAEYONG!” she screamed.

He laughed at her while you retrieved the list. “Never have I ever lived alone.” You had always either lived with your parents or had roommates when away from home. Taeyong and Irene were high school sweethearts, and so their only home away from their parents were with each other.

Jaehyun raised his arm solely once again. “I actually live on my own right now. I have my own place,” he answered. He never suggested to bring you over to his place, assuming that you were still awkward with him. Therefore, he only ever took you to public places to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.

A phone rang, making Irene pick up her phone. “Hey Yeri.” Yeri was a mutual friend of yours and Irene’s and based on the muffled sounds from the other end of the line, you assumed that she was crying. “Oh no, just hold on for a second.” Turning to you guys, she said, “I’ll go talk to her outside.”

“I’ll come,” you added. You didn’t know what the issue was, but two heads were better than one.  

“Alright. And Taeyong, do not drink out of my sight. You hear me?” Irene pointed her index finger at him as she reprimanded him.

Taeyong sulked like a sad puppy upon hearing his wife’s words. Once the two of you were out of sight, a smirk formed on his face and he turned to Jaehyun, wiggling his eyebrows alluringly.

Jaehyun acted dumb, not wanting to get in trouble for encouraging Taeyong and avoided his eyes.

Taeyong nudged Jaehyun in the elbow, making the latter sigh in defeat. “This is about drinking, isn’t it?”

He nodded eagerly.

But Jaehyun shook his head. “No.”

Taeyong deflated. “Why?” he wailed.

“You’re going to get in trouble. Didn’t Irene just warn you?”

“I always get in trouble by her. It’s nothing new. I really wanna drink.”

Jaehyun was in a huge debate. Should he let Taeyong drink? Would you get mad at him for letting your friend drink?

“Come on, man. Please?” The puppy look was too irresistible for Jaehyun to stop him. One drink wouldn’t hurt Taeyong, would it?

“Okay, I guess a little won’t hurt you.”

Taeyong’s eyebrows raised in amusement. “You mean us. We’re both drinking.”

-

After comforting Yeri with her boyfriend issue, Irene decided to call her in-laws and check up on the kids while you headed back to search for the boys and see what they were up to.

Only to witness the scene in front of you absolutely shocking.

Both Taeyong and Jaehyun unquestionably wasted.

Numerous bottles were littered everywhere on the dining table where the four of you previously played a game. Knowing that Taeyong was a lightweight, the majority of the bottles had to belong to Jaehyun. Like a koala bear to a tree, Taeyong clung onto Jaehyun from behind, splattering kisses on your fiancé’s cheeks and nuzzling his nose into Jaehyun’s skin. From the looks of it, Jaehyun didn’t seem bothered at all by your friend with the dimples on his flushed cheeks.

But you were.

“Taeyong! Let him go! That’s my fiancé you’re kissing!” you yelled and strolled over to them. Trying to split up your drunk friend from your future husband was close to impossible. When Taeyong was drunk, his strength nearly doubled. The only other approach to get Taeyong off Jaehyun was for you to take a deep breath and release a bloodcurdling scream.

Startled, Taeyong let go of Jaehyun and stumbled over his steps, landing flat on his butt. The loss of human physical contact had Taeyong become a crying mess, but you didn’t pay any attention to his melodramatic tears. Because right after that moment, Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. He took a deep breath of your scent and sighed in content. “Mmm, you smell nice Y/N.”

Your heart thrashed in your chest and all you could hear was your blood pumping loudly in your ears. All you could feel was the warmth of his arms around you with the tip of his soft nose pressed into your cheek.

When Irene reappeared and quickly sunk in the scene, she ran up to her husband. “Taeyong! Did I not warn you earlier?” she shouted. Taeyong was going to have a tough time from Irene when he sobered up.

Once Irene dragged her wasted husband to their bedroom, you were clueless of what to do with clingy Jaehyun and later chose to follow your friend’s idea. After much difficulty of attempting to pull him inside the bedroom, you dropped him on the bed.

Right before you left his side, you heard him faintly mumble the words, “I love you, Y/N,” before dozing off.

- ❀ -

“Y/N, Jaehyun, can you two go to the market and grab some food for the long drive home?” Taeyong asked.

The last morning of your time at the rental vacation home had arrived. Thanks to the drunken men from the day before, food stock had been used up considerably quick to battle their hangovers.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready,” Jaehyun said to you.

You pursed your lips and nodded. Frankly speaking, you were beginning to feel uncomfortable with Jaehyun ever since you heard his confession. Even though it wasn’t the first time to hear him confess to you, ‘I love you’ was a lot more deeper than ‘I like you’ and you were more than glad that he had said it while he was drunk. If he was sober, you would have had no idea on how to respond back. It wasn’t necessarily his feelings that you were bothered by, but your own. You didn’t know where your heart was for him and that was what made you uncomfortable.

Taeyong tossed the car keys to Jaehyun while discreetly sending a wink in your direction. You rolled your eyes, aware that your friend was only trying to get you closer to Jaehyun.

The drive to the market was tortuously silent as you focused your gaze on the faraway mountains and grass fields.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Jaehyun began. “I didn’t know Taeyong’s light and when he’s drunk, it’s hard to refuse him.” Taeyong had forced bottle after bottle on the poor man, not stopping until Jaehyun was drunk like him.

You stifled back a small laugh. “It’s okay. I’ve seen it before. But do you remember what happened?”

He frowned and shook his head. “Did something embarrassing happen?”

“Well, I would say something entertaining happened. You and Taeyong were quite something.”

He paled, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “What did we do?”

You laughed. “I wished I recorded you two, but I guess I’ll forever cherish it in my memories.”

At the market, Jaehyun pushed the cart and your hand rested on the side of it. Halfway through, Jaehyun felt his phone vibrate. Seeing the caller’s name displayed, he sighed, slightly annoyed at the phone. “Sorry Y/N, I need to take this call.”

You were surprised that he was telling you, yet hummed in response.

He thanked you and answered the call, keeping his volume low. “Hello? Didn’t I tell you not to call me?” You weren’t trying to mind his conversation but sort of ended up eavesdropping. “Just talk to Jade for me, will you? Thanks.” He hung up the call, taking a deep breath before smiling at you and resumed the grocery shopping.

What was that about, you thought.

- ❀ -

“Oh my love! I’m so excited to finalize your marriage date,” your mother gushed. “The time has finally come!”

You stayed mute, letting your mother begin daydreaming of all the things that would happen at your wedding.  Recalling the condition set in the beginning, your father asked if there was a valid reason to break it off. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to come up with a single reason for why you shouldn’t marry Jaehyun.

Why did he have to be so flawless, you thought.

When the doorbell rang, your mother gave you a gentle push, cuing you to open the door. With a huge deep breath in and out, you attempted to put on your best polite smile and swung the door open. “Good afternoon, please come in,” your tone laced with such fake enthusiasm that you had never displayed to your future in-laws.

Mrs. Jung walked in and pulled you into, once again, a crushing hug. “Oh it really is a good afternoon, Y/N. Let’s get your wedding talk going!” Once Jaehyun’s parents strolled to the direction of the living room, you shifted your gaze to the man himself, standing still on the porch.

“Um, you can come in too. Haha.” You weren’t ever going to stop feeling awkward with him, were you?

Though Jaehyun only held a neutral expression. No smile or sparkle in his eyes. And it made you worry if he was okay.

“Jaehyun?”

“Y/N?” he called softly.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He sucked in a breath and asked, “Can I hug you?”

You blinked again. Physical touches were going to be basic intimacy after marriage so he shouldn’t have to ask you for one. But then, nothing much had happened between you two in terms of it except for a few, and you thought he was only being a gentleman. He had only hugged you once and that was when he was drunk. “Yes, of course.”

He closed the distance between you two and wrapped his arms around your waist, flushing his warmth against yours. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he placed his chin on your shoulder, staying like that for what felt like a minute, just basking in your warmth before he pulled away. The slight smile he sent your way, not quite reaching his eyes, made your heart drop.

“Let’s go in,” he muttered and held your hand in his gently.

Your heart would have fluttered at the contact, but you didn’t like the feeling that began to settle in your stomach.

After you two walked in, Mrs. Jung began. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s think of-”

“Mom,” Jaehyun cut his mother off quietly but firmly enough to be heard, making her blink at him in surprise.

“What is it, son?” his father asked. Jaehyun was never the type to interrupt elders. But at that moment, he couldn’t let them begin planning, getting their hopes up when it wasn’t going to happen.

He let go of your hand and glanced at your mother. “I can’t do this.”

You were beyond confused with him. “Do what?”

He turned to you, his eyes holding sorrow. “This marriage.”

The eerie silence that followed was broken by your mother. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Y/N wanting to break it off, does it?”

You gaped at her. “This is my first time hearing about this. I didn’t know either.”

“There’s literally no reason why he would be calling it off,” she countered.

“Mrs. L/N, this doesn’t have anything to do with Y/N. It’s my decision. I’m just not ready. I’m sorry.” Jaehyun lowered his gaze to the floor while you incredulously looked at him.

Not ready? My foot! There was no way he wasn’t ready for this marriage. After the confessions, after all his smiles. He wouldn’t have continued taking interest in you if he was going to break it off.

“Jaehyun, this is unacceptable. You should have told us beforehand,” his mother scolded.

“And I’m sorry for that. I didn’t want anyone to know so that everyone knows this is my decision. I’m not being influenced by anyone for this.” He raised his eyes to meet your parents. “I apologize, once again, Mr. and Mrs. L/N.” Without giving you a glance, he turned on his heels and strode towards the entrance.

Your head was spinning, your heart aching for an unexplainable reason as you watched the man disappear out the front door. It happened. It finally happened. After all this time of you wanting the marriage to be called off.

But why weren’t you happy?

Jaehyun stepped out of your house, feeling slightly less suffocated and released the held back tears. He pulled out his phone, dialing a number and pressed it against his ear.

After the second ring, the call was answered. “Hey Jaehyun! What’s up?” Taeyong’s cheery greeting almost broke Jaehyun yet he willed himself to stay strong.  

“Taeyong, can we meet tonight?”

- ❀ -

Jaehyun asked for Taeyong to pick him up. With the plan he had for that night, he wasn’t going to be in the right condition to drive. Taeyong had gotten the news from you prior to the meet that Jaehyun had called off the wedding. While Taeyong was childish at times, he knew when to act responsibly and had opted for cola when Jaehyun ordered spirits.

You didn’t take the news well either and Taeyong could tell instantly by your voice. He was going to talk to you later in person when Jaehyun had reached out to him first.

First come, first served.

Taeyong pressed his back to his chair and watched the man across down his shots. The food had been left abandoned as alcohol became a source of comfort for the broken hearted.

“I- I couldn’t do it to Y/N,” Jaehyun choked out. “I can’t let her marry me when she doesn’t love me. I can’t let her feel that she’s being forced to marry me when she doesn’t want to. Not once has she ever admitted her feelings to me. It’s like she’s only doing this for her parents.”

Taeyong sighed. “Jaehyun, I think you shou-” He bit back his words upon hearing a sob. The sobs had progressively increased, and tears flooded down Jaehyun’s reddened cheeks. Taeyong rushed to his side and guided Jaehyun’s head to his chest, hugging him as he soothingly patted his head.

The sobs had only lessened when Jaehyun choked out, “I love her too much, Taeyong. I just want her to be happy.”

- ❀ -

Your eyes fluttered open, the light breeze gently swaying the sheer white curtains that hung off the rods of your canopy bed. A soft breath left your parted lips and the aching hole in your heart continued to consume you. Your hand laid beside your head, the sparkling diamond ring still resting on your finger. While you didn’t know if your fiancé, ex fiancé, had taken the ring off, you didn’t have the courage to take off yours.

Irene answered the door and was astonished by your surprise visit. “Y/N, what a surprise. And you don’t look good...” she trailed off.

And you weren’t expecting otherwise when you felt like shit.

She ushered you in, and your eyes skimmed throughout the home, getting flashbacks to the times spent babysitting with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun.

You sniffed and tried to push your incoming tears back. “Is Tae...”

She shook her head. “He got an urgent call from work so he’s going to be there till late night. I heard about Jaehyun.”

You merely nodded, not sure what to say.

Irene placed a hand on your shoulder. “Do you want to talk?”

You chewed on your lips and shook your head. You had no idea what to say when you were confused by your feelings. At times like that, you’d go to Taeyong. He knew you more than your parents, more than anyone in the world, and would have a better idea of what you were feeling before you could realize it yourself. Until Taeyong arrived, you were going to quietly seek comfort from your friend and the little angels.

Chunghee came into sight and his eyes landed on you, running to you. Your typical reflex would have been a cheerful smile and have your arms open for him to run into. But you didn’t do that. The little boy’s steps slowed upon approaching you, noticing something was off when not met with the usual response. “What’s wong, auntie?”

A cry that you recognized belonging to Aera pierced through the rooms, making Irene leave the two of you alone.

Jinae had waddled into the living room, her eyes forming crescent moons, delighted to see you. She wobbled up to your legs and held onto your leg for support. You sat down on the floor and pulled her into your lap. You forced a smile at Chunghee. “Nothing. Auntie’s okay.”

Chunghee sat down beside you, looking around the room. “Where’s Jae uncle?”

Your heart stopped at the mention of his Jaehyun uncle. You were flattered that he liked him enough to ask about his whereabouts. “He... Jae uncle isn’t with me anymore.”

He stared at you. “Not together?” You shook your head. “Why?” he whined.

“What do you mean why?”

He pouted, and if it weren’t for the gaping hole in your heart, you would have laughed at how much he resembled Taeyong. “I like you and uncle together.”

“I guess we’re not meant to be together.”

With a scowl on his face, he yelled, “No! You two are!”

Jinae kept her tiny gaze on you and released a ‘humph,’ agreeing with her brother’s words.

- ❀ -

Taeyong had received a warning from Irene to not make noise when entering home at night. His gaze fell onto the figure sprawled on the couch, facing the backrest. On his tip toes, he quietly moved towards it and peeked over to see your face. You were fast asleep with signs of puffy eyes, hinting that you were crying recently.

“You’re such a fool,” he whispered and kissed your head.

The next morning, you woke up, being greeted with a cheery Taeyong who dragged you to the dining table for breakfast. Even though you weren’t in the mood to, he nagged you into going out for a walk with him so that you could digest your meal. It made you think back to Jaehyun when he suggested the same thing on your second official date. You were secretly thankful that Taeyong dragged you out the door as your limbs were aching for some movement after being cooped up indoors due to your gloomy mood.

Spotting an unoccupied bench, the two of you sat down for a short break. “The weather is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, staring up at the fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky.

You puffed out as your gaze was fixed on the pebbles along the path. “I don’t know what to do. Why am I feeling like this?”

He snickered. “If I was in Jaehyun’s spot, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if I loved you.”

“Hey! Is that an insult?”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Seriously, only Jaehyun is supposed to be hurting right now. Why are you getting affected? Wasn’t this what you wanted all this time?”

It was.

But...

“Yeah... but I don’t know. I’m so confused. Jaehyun really is a good guy. But I- I don’t know.”

Taeyong watched you softly. “You know what the problem is?”

You scowled. “If I knew the problem, I wouldn’t be here with you and stressed out.”

He smiled warmly. “Your problem is that you’re holding onto your biased thoughts. The type of guys your parents had set you up with previously have been ones you didn’t like. So now that there’s a guy who is perfect for you, you can’t see that. Plus, all your life you wanted a love marriage. The second your parents interfered and tried to set you up for an arranged one, you thought love would never happen.”

You let his words sink in and felt a piercing stab in your heart after hearing his words. You wanted to fall in love the way you thought you would back when you were a teenage girl. You wanted to fall in love with the one you were destined to be with like the way it would occur in movies. Not through having blind dates with prospective partners.

“Y/N, let me ask you something and I want you to forget that you had ever met Jaehyun the way you did.”

That felt like another stab in your heart, even if hypothetical.

“If you never met Jaehyun through a blind date, but instead met him in another way, would your feelings change for him?”

If you met Jaehyun as a classmate, or as a mutual friend, or colleague, or even as someone you bumped into randomly on the streets, would your feelings change? “My head hurts,” you complained and slouched against the bench.

He tutted. “This isn’t something to use your brain for. What do you feel in your heart, Y/N? Would your feelings change? Would you then accept your love for Jaehyun?”

Love...

For Jaehyun.

You stood up from the bench, suddenly feeling a rush of emotions surging inside you. You began trembling, becoming hyper aware of what you had been doing all this time. You had been pushing away your feelings for him. Unknowingly had been denying your love for him. “Oh my God...” you breathed out. “Why am I so dumb?”

If you had met Jaehyun in any other way, then you would have realized your feelings way earlier.

Taeyong placed his hands on your shoulder, gently turning you around to face him. “You realize it now,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t see his face as your sight became blurry from the tears welled up in your eyes. “Why am I so stupid?” you cried, and Taeyong pulled you into his embrace, stroking your hair. Wet patches formed on his shirt as you sobbed in his chest.

Your friend kissed the top of your head. “After all this time of you wanting a love marriage, you didn’t even realize that the love of your life had been in front of you all along.”

“He’s never gonna forgive me,” you choked out.

Pulling away from you, he wiped your fresh tears off with his fingers. “He will. He loves you too much to hate you. Also,” he grabbed his phone from his pocket and did some tapping. Your phone chimed, displaying an address under your unread message. “That’s his address, the one where he lives on his own. Go to him, Y/N. Tell him your true feelings.”

- ❀ -

Jaehyun doesn’t hate you. He loves you.

With that thought, you quit being hesitant and rang the doorbell. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for a short time. When the door opened, you were met with a shocked Jaehyun. “Y/N?” Your name fell from his lips in disbelief, as if to see you again, let alone at his place, would be a dream.

A nod. “Yup. It’s me. Haha,” you chuckled nervously. “Taeyong gave me your address.”

He hit himself mentally for keeping you standing. “Come in.”

You walked in and weren’t surprised for the vibe his place radiated. After all the money spent on your dates, and being your parents’ selection, you expected he’d own a deluxe home, his being a modern bachelor pad. You couldn’t help but think back to a particular set of words when you second met him at the theater.

“Would you like anything? Coffee or tea?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No. I’m fine. Well... actually water.”

He nodded. “Of course. Please sit.” He shuffled his way to where you assumed was the kitchen. Out of sight, you cautiously sat down on the couch, scanning your eyes around.

Jaehyun came back with a tall glass of water, handing it to you. You thanked him and took a few sips before resting it on the coffee table. Your eyes landed on his ring finger, stunned to see the engagement ring still there. “You’re still wearing it,” you muttered.

He followed your line of sight and caught on to what you were referring to. Quickly, he placed his other hand on top to hide the ring from your sight. “Oh, um...” He glanced at your own hand and noticed it there as well. “Oh, you too?”

Nodding, you said, “Yeah, I...”

He kept his eyes trained on you, waiting for you to continue and explain for the sudden visit.

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered under your breath.

He raised his eyebrows, hearing you clearly. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t realize that I loved you all this time.”

He froze upon hearing your confession for the first time, and his heart began beating faster. “You love me?” he asked, needing to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

You nodded and laughed quietly. “If it weren’t for Taeyong to make me realize it, then I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. And I’m sorry that I’m late. I’ve been blind all this time because we were arranged, you know? I thought love wasn’t going to happen. But I’m so dumb to not realize it despite all the times you’ve made my heart flutter.”

A blinding smile took over his face and you were relieved to see it again. “I made your heart flutter?” Jaehyun’s heart was far from okay with your confession. There were rare times where he could figure out if he moved your heart, but you masked your emotions most of the time.

“You sure did. I’m seriously such a fool to not have- argh!” you groaned, frustrated with yourself.

He laughed happily, pleased with the effect he had on you. “Better now than never. So you love me? Like you don’t have any problem with me?”

Which reminded you... “Well, there is one thing.”

His smile faltered, anxious for what you had to state. “Yeah?”

You pressed your lips together. “What was your friend’s name? Johnny was it? At the movies. he mentioned something that you were devoted to your work, and I can tell you’re someone of higher position. Will that mean I might not be able to see you at times because you’ll be busy?”

His lips formed an ‘oh’ and his smile returned. “You’re right. I do work at a managerial position, so it is possible for me to be away. But did you ever feel that whenever I was with you? That I chose work over you?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Huh?”

He grinned. “Remember our trip at that supermarket and I got a call? It was from work. Actually, that weekend our team had an urgent project to work on, but I was able to get someone reliable to cover for me so that I could spend time with you.”

Oh my God...

“Work is inevitable and rare cases I’ll have to be away from you. But I will do anything and everything I can to put you first.” His smile dropped quickly when noticing your tears. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

You sniffed back the wave about to hit you. “You’re too perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

The dimples that you loved so much reappeared, and he wiped your tears away. “Nonsense. More like I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” you pouted, frowning.

He laughed and patted your head. “You’re so cute.”

Your cheeks burned with adoration for him, and you caught him off guard when you hastily leaned forward and pecked him on his lips. You pulled back and found him blushing.

Out of embarrassment, you diverted your gaze, looking at anything but his eyes. Jaehyun gently held your face in his hands and turned you to meet his twinkling eyes. “I love it when you surprise me, Y/N.”

You grinned and pecked his lips for the second time, wanting to feel his soft velvety lips again.

Surprised, he let out a hearty laugh. “Someone’s desperate for my lips.”

“After all this time, I can’t believe I didn’t kiss you once. Maybe that would have changed my mind and accepted you faster,” you joked.

He shook his head, smiling in amusement, and was startled when you threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Jaehyun responded back, pulling you into his tight embrace and kissed back in a feverish manner. You moaned and combed your hand through his hair, earning a deep growl from him. You pulled back after what felt like a minute, both of you panting heavily. He stared into your eyes, and as a confirmation whispered, “You’ll be my wife.”

­You chuckled breathlessly. “I’ll be your Mrs. Jung.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, moving more roughly. He left your lips and trailed down below your jawline, leaving a wet trail on your neck. Your moans increased in volume and he was pleased by how sensitive you were just from his lips on your skin. He pulled back and watched your reaction.

You whined at the loss of contact. “Stop teasing me.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “You want more?”

You definitely did. “Please?” You batted your eyelashes.

A smirk grew on his face. “Of course.” He placed his hands behind your back and knees, lifting you up into his arms bridal style. On the way to his bedroom, the two of you didn’t stop the kisses. He put you down gently on the bed and crawled over you, closing the distance between you two as he gave all of his love to you.

[dorimena]

may i have aizawa or todoroki where they're in a meeting and the reader is controlling the vibrator in their hole 👉👈 (also can I be 🍦 anon as well?)

Of course you may! Aizawa’s came to mind first, but I’ll be sure to also post Todoroki’s later this week, so your sin is multiplied. And yes, you can! 𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙, 🍦 anon (๑˘︶˘๑)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; aizawa shouta

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.0k,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; sex toy (vibrating butt plug), public sex, slight exhibitionism, implied humiliation kink, implied degradation kink, implied bondage, implied edging, cursing, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; gender-neutral reader, Aizawa wanted to impress you, sidekick is a voyeur, Aizawa suffering to not show he’s actually a bottom is beautiful.

𝖁𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖊.

“Don’t you dare think about it.”

He shakily grumbles to you, closing his eyes momentarily as he tries to compose himself again, crossing his arms to make himself seem unbothered. After all, it’s not every day he’s wearing a vibrating buttplug in public.

“Dare think about what, Eraserhead?” The CEO of some hero agency’s voice asked curiously.

Shit. Now everyone is looking at him. Why is he even wearing this thing?

Oh right.

Before the impromptu meeting about some tip of the whereabouts of another underground drug trafficking ring, he was in the middle of preparing a… surprise for you, when you came back home from wherever you went. But you somehow found out beforehand, because you showed him how the control was in your possession after you caught up with him in the hallway on your way to the same meeting.

So here he is, wearing a promised ‘super intense’ vibrations, black silicone with a matching ‘diamond’ butt plug under his luckily loose hero outfit. 

Grunting to subtly clear his voice and keep it steady, he looks back at the addressing man.

“You want to simply use us to continue patrolling the same areas everyone else seemed to map out already. That-”

You interrupt his answer by turning up the intensity a bit, knowing it’s most definitely poking at his sensitive spot by now. You’ve seen his sly attempts of shifting and adjustment. You’re humming, looking over at him to see how his mouth has clamped shut but his lips are trembling. His body’s rigid, tense, and his back has straightened up considerably. You’re pretty sure you heard him moan lowly.

“Eraserhead?” The man asked again, raising an eyebrow at the sudden loss of words while the room falls silent- shit, they can’t know about the vibrator! Aizawa doesn’t even know how loud it is, he only cleaned it and skipped the trial part.

Swallowing harshly, he hopes his voice isn’t going to betray him and is loud enough to cover up the mysterious buzzing. You aren’t going to be nice with this apparently.

“Th-that we should begin the next s-step…” Never mind, guess his voice fucking hates him and his train of thought.

“I’ll, uh, take that into consideration, and I suppose it could lessen…” and whatever is said after that leaves Aizawa´s focus as you increase the vibrations again, making his thighs want to match the speed and his mind suddenly scream at him to ‘keep yourself composed.’

A vibrator is nothing new.

A butt plug is nothing new.

A vibrating butt plug is new, and doing it in public during an important fucking meeting is making him feel a lot that it’s overwhelming him.

You aren’t even going to let him think or compose himself as you move a little closer to his side, acting like you’re paying attention to what the others are saying, before pinching his inner thigh. 

No one’s paying attention to you two anymore and are starting to get loud, and you wanted him to see that before you murmur.

“Thank you for the gift. I’ll make sure to use it to its full potential.” Now that has him suddenly praying for whichever higher celestial being is there to hear him to please, please, please not let anyone catch on to what’s going to happen.

So, you turn the vibration up a few more settings, holding back a laugh of amusement as he jerks violently in his chair and your hand finds itself trapped between his quivering, muscular thighs, that soon enough begin bouncing as he tries to find purchase on something, anything. His hands gripping the fabric covering his arms isn’t helping. Leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table and resting his forehead on his palm, he uses his other free hand to wrap around your wrist near him because the feeling of your skin touching him always keeps him grounded. Surely this doesn’t look suspicious.

To anyone who would be looking, it just looks like you’re trying to not let the unnecessary noise get to him, but really he’s desperately whispering “slow down, s-slow down!” as he tries swallowing any other embarrassing noise that should only be heard in the bedroom, and soon enough gripping your wrist harder, trying to make your trapped hand touch his aching bulge, twitching for attention.

A strangled whine escapes his dried throat, and that catches the attention of some random sidekick nearby. And when you turn the toy off, Aizawa huffs in disappointment before glaring over at the younger male. It’s enough to have the sidekick smile awkwardly before turning away, feigning ignorance to whatever he might’ve heard.

Now that the coast is quickly cleared, you lean in to swiftly ‘fix’ his weapon and with a hush tell him not to “let anyone know” before turning up the intensity again, this time making sure it’s at the highest the small machine can offer.

Remember when he said he was promised it to be ‘super intense’? He regrets it. He really, really regrets it.

He quickly tries grabbing whatever part of his binding cloth is closest with his mouth to help gag, at least muffle, his sharp cry of your name, gritting his teeth as he tries not to be louder than the debate happening. But with the tip of the butt plug pressing really hard onto his prostate, he can’t help jerking his hips forward and back while letting out airy whines of anything yet nothing.

You’re just watching his reactions, drinking in every slip of noise he makes. You know he’s going to slip up sooner or later, with the way his hips are slowly losing control and his legs are twitching too much to not pass off as suspicious.

Even his cute whines are becoming wanton moans of your name, the binding cloth being forgotten as he loses concentration. He can feel how wet his boxers are, how sticky they feel against his hardened member that twitches on tempo with his thighs. He needs you to touch him there. Please, please, please.

“Pl-please?” He exhales shakily, choking on a small groan as your right hand wiggles around to free itself from his weakening grip.

Before you could answer, you hear someone call his name. Quickly turning off the toy, your left hand lets go of the control in your pocket as you place it on his forehead.

“Eraserhead, are you alright?” The same man from earlier asked. You wonder why he’s so attentive.

“No, sir. He seems to be picking up a fever.” You finish with a worried expression morphing onto your face.

“Oh, then he should go home-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but it’s best if he stays. He wouldn’t have come if you’re just gonna send him home.”

You’re so clever, knowing how to justify his loose composure and charm the head prohero behind this mission. He would’ve continued mentally praising it, but he was rudely interrupted since you decided to turn the toy back on to the highest setting.

“O-Oh shiiiiit.” He hisses, opening his legs as he just accepts and welcomes this sensation. This is definitely out of his usual character, but having this butt plug thing tease him for hours, even when off, it was enough to keep him horny and just be ready to satisfy the ache in his dick and the burning desire running throughout his body.

Hell, he’ll even call you whatever you want if it means you’ll let him cum sometime soon so he can pay attention to what’s going on.

Who cares if he’ll walk around with sticky cum on his thighs or leaking through to his pants. That’s the good thing about wearing black.

You eventually decreased the speed so that it’s at a somewhat safe setting, not wanting to overwhelm him so soon after covering his ass, but also to see how long this could drag. He did say it was your gift, so let’s take it to its fullest potential.

Hours passed since you’ve had this toy buzzing inside of him, and even if he’s supposed to feel grateful, he feels more frustration than gratitude. Sure, you’re being considerate, that way he was able to properly take part and become a little more attentive with the meeting, but his painful erection and oversensitive prostate would love to oppose.

Luckily, the meeting looks like it's coming to an end, and even with his occasional hiccupped whines and hushed moans, you’ve grown bored of such constant reactions and you’re missing his outstanding earlier performance. Surely nothing bad is going to happen; he’s put off his ‘fever’ for so long.

It’s time to help him. Pity he’s talking right now.

“So, we’ll send these g-guys... fuck.” Aizawa whispered the last part, twitching with the sudden increase of the speed.

“What was that?”

Just as he was going to reply, you finished increasing up to the last setting once more, humming curiously while the same ‘worried’ expression from before appeared on your face.

His face is completely red, whether in shame, embarrassment, in flushed pleasure, who knows. His eyes are quivering as his brain tries to register the overwhelming intensity of the vibrations, and he thinks he can even feel it in his brain.

He quickly dismisses whatever he was going to say with a singular hand motion, sliding his notes towards you so that you can finish sharing his idea to the others before they turn their eyes on someone else.

Even if the attention isn’t on him anymore, he can’t help but like the idea that they already know what’s going on, with the way the same sidekick from before is also blushing and seems fidgety. He’s trying so hard not to rub himself against your pliant hand, which you never finished slipping away, but he’s so, so sure if he does feel you, he’ll just sob.

It’s too much.

“T-too mu-uch. T-turn i-it down- augh.” He’s trying his best to whisper, but really he’s so overwhelmed he dumbly moans it out into your ear.

You shake your head, ‘accidentally’ brushing your fingertips over his bulge. If only this toy had another setting, maybe that would help make him shameless.

His eyes and throat are burning, shame eating away at his stomach before being overcome slowly by the need to cum. Has he always been this dirty? This easy to let defile? No, god no, but with you he can’t help it. Why else would he have bought a ‘super intense’ black silicone with a matching ‘diamond’ butt plug? It’s obvious he wanted to show it off, be a good boy for you, to treat you right.

So, seeing how you don’t want to turn it down and kind of going against your words of not letting anyone know, this is what you truly want, right? Him not-so-quietly and not-so-nonchalantly lose control over everything going on, with the slight exception of his breathing, while you continue to expose him like this to an uninterested crowd. Maybe he would like a crowd to watch him and mock him? Maybe call him a slut while giggling about how disgusting he is? Being tied up and strapped with a bunch of more vibrators all over his body? Being covered in so much cum he’s too dirty to be touched by anyone?

His grip with himself is loosening and his hips are trying to chase after your fingers or try to grind down some more onto the butt plug. Combining his growing need with his shameless fantasy, he couldn’t warn you properly, or himself, before he abruptly cums hard in his pants, a sob of “please” muffled by  your quick right hand and the one with the remote lowers the speed so it helps ride out his unexpected high and not hurt him. 

The only thing is, that you forget just how long his orgasms can last with just butt play. It’s a toe curling, leg shaking, dick exploding orgasm. It’s enough to suddenly make you wonder if he’ll be able to walk on stable legs.

The meeting ends with everyone confirming all conclusions while you’re whispering sweet affirmations and praises into his ear, pressing your palm harder onto his mouth with every other sob of your name, shameless dumb moaning and the occasional hiccups of gratitude.

Now, how to bribe the poor horny sidekick who has been not-so-secretly watching this whole ordeal into staying quiet?