#today is my day of the week where I get to display one (1) positive emotion. this is it.

[writeplace-wrongtime]

Before the Bet

First of all, thank you to everyone who interacted with The Bet. Seeing reblogs, likes and comments literally made my week, I appreciate all of you!

It also boosted my motivation, so I'm back with a 5+1 prequel to the bet - It can be read standalone as well, but if you haven't read The Bet, check it out here!

This was meant to be like 2000 words max but here we are.

masterlist coming soon

Word Count: 5k~

CW// mentions of blood/fainting, stabbing, arrest, hospitals, mentions of child kidnapping/death, use of y/n, not beta'd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 times reader and Hotch hid their relationship + 1 time they didn't need to

5

The BAU rarely had quiet days. Whenever they cropped up, it meant hours of catching up on paperwork and emails, and even more so it meant getting to goof around the office without the usual level of urgency. In short, quiet days were nice.

You had spent the morning sorting through all the files in, on, or around your desk, hoping to clear up some space for the files that would surely start piling up again in the coming weeks. Old case files were sorted into one file to be moved to the proper storage rooms, while newer files were sorted according to date and case number, until you had an oldest-newest pile to work through in the afternoon.

Occasionally on quiet days, Aaron would offer to buy everyone coffee, and Emily and Derek would fight over who got to go pick it up. Today, was not one of those days. JJ and Henry had brought little Henry in for a visit, and with them came fresh muffins and cakes from the bakery near their house. A little after noon, you decided it was the perfect time for a cheap office-coffee refill, and a quiet time to sneak an extra muffin back to your desk.

The kitchen was quiet, with most of the office either holding off until lunch, or already sorted after their coffee break a couple hours earlier. You had just topped up the instant coffee when the door creaked open. You didn’t look up until a hand ghosted your lower back, and the sleeve of Aaron’s suit reached your peripheral vision. He leaned against the countertop, somewhere between beside and behind you, and you turned to face him. There was a smile on his lips, but a crinkle on his forehead where he’d previously been frowning at paperwork.

‘Coffee?’ He just nodded as you reached past him to grab his usual “no.1 Dad” mug Spencer and JJ had bought him one Christmas as a gag gift. You filled the two mugs, enjoying the closeness you often missed out on during work hours.

‘Dinner,’ He spoke suddenly, catching your attention, ‘Us, we should get dinner.’

You had had many dates over the 2 months since your relationship with Aaron had started, but every time he directly asked you out, whether to dinner or a movie, he always seemed unsure of himself.

‘You asking me on a date, sir?’ You teased, leaning against the counter in a perfect mirror of his position. He laughed, a quiet breathy sound that sent butterflies to your stomach.

‘Trying to, yes.’ Your smile grew.

‘Dinner sounds lovely, Aaron,’ Your voice had become quieter, but no less audible to him as you leaned fractionally closer. ‘Jack was telling me about the restaurant you went to last week, the one that had the dinosaur colouring sheets?’

He nodded thoughtfully as you slid his coffee towards him. He took a sip, before leaving the mug back down on the counter. ‘They had a great selection of colours,’ He said with a fond smile. You loved hearing him speak about Jack; the obvious pride displayed across his face whenever his son came into the conversation.

You were just about to ask if he’d kept the coloured sheet when the door’s squeaky hinges creaked loudly, and you jumped apart. Emily stood at the door’s entrance, eyebrows raised at the scene before her. Aaron looked between you and her, moving another step back as subtly as he could.

‘Thanks, uh, that eyelash has been bothering me all morning!’ You blurted out, voice just slightly too loud. You brought your hand to your face, wiping at the phantom eyelash as if to remove it. With a little more distance now between you, you were able to steady your beating heart. When Aaron made no move to leave, you picked up your own coffee, added a touch of cold water, and made a beeline for the door. You rolled your eyes at Emily as you passed, pointedly not looking at the kissy face she made when Aaron had turned back to the sink. Emily moved further into the kitchen then, but Aaron was already heading for the door, eyes following you as you sat back down at your desk with a muffin he hadn't even seen you grab.

‘Hey Hotch?’ He paused at the door, turning to see Emily with his coffee mug in hand, holding it out as if to offer it to him, ‘You forget something?’ There was an obvious teasing lilt to her tone, but he chose to ignore it, hoping he would be back in his office before the scarlet tint reached his cheeks. He wasn’t. He opted to instead hide his face behind the rim of the mug, taking a sip of the hot coffee. With one last glance towards your desk, he disappeared back into his office, and if anyone noticed the door shut a little faster than normal, no one mentioned it.

4

The knock on his office door alerted Aaron to your early morning arrival. He was used to being the first to the office, especially when the cases were stacking up like they were now. Since your relationship had started 4 months ago, you had taken to bringing him coffee on such days. He appreciated it.

‘Morning, handsome.’ You had a sleepy smile on your face as you stepped into the office. In your hands you carried two coffee cups. While you hadn’t spent the night at Aaron’s apartment, you knew he would be up early and in the office at a ridiculous hour. Where there was work to be done, he was always nearby. His shoulders visibly relaxed as you placed the coffees in front of him.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ He sighed, an equally tired smile on his own face. The hands of his watch ticked loudly in the otherwise quiet office, and a quick glance showed it was nearly half seven. You weren’t due in until 9. Hands now free, you pulled a chair closer, settling into it before picking back up your own coffee. You reached out and plucked a file from the desk.

‘A problem shared is a problem halved!’ You argued when he raised his eyebrows at you. The usual accompanying frown was absent, so you knew he wasn’t really annoyed at the intrusion, nor the cheesy proverb.  

‘Not when half of the problems are confidential.’ You rolled your eyes but conceded. The file was returned to the pile, and you moved to stand. ‘But the company would be appreciated.’

Your attempt to hide your smile was terrible. You blamed your tiredness. Aaron appreciated this time with you. Early enough that there was no worry about anyone seeing the fondness in his expression while you told him about your adventures in cooking the evening before, or the lovestruck smile on your face when he took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before returning to the file in front of him, fingers still intertwined with yours.

Well, no one except David Rossi. David who had come into work early to enjoy the peace of organising himself for the day before everyone else arrived. David who quietly closed his office door to allow you what little time together you could get at the office.

3

Weekends off were rare. So, when they came around, everyone celebrated. Team-bonding nights out had become more regular since Emily’s return from “death”. Friday nights before a weekend off were almost always spent together at a bar, club, or occasionally Rossi’s house for impromptu cooking lessons. Penelope and Emily often took turns trying to wing-man for you, and even JJ joined in after a couple drinks. Usually, you used the excuse of wanting to enjoy their company, but occasionally you called an early night to get a break from their incessant need to insert themselves into your sex-life. If you’d been single, you probably would’ve appreciated it. But you weren’t.

The previous night had been one of those early nights. Aaron hadn’t come out with everyone, insisting he needed to finish up some reports and to go on without him. As much as you’d enjoyed the few hours out with your team, you’d decided early in the night that once you’d had three drinks, you were going to go back to Aaron’s apartment and enjoy the rest of the evening with him. It wasn’t often that you had the apartment to yourselves on a Friday night, but Jessica had offered to have Jack for a sleepover. You wanted to make the most of it.

To wake up naturally, no blaring alarm clock or ringing phone, was a blessing. The room was lit by dim light behind closed curtains, and the only sounds were that of birds outside and the quiet snoring of Aaron behind you. His arm was draped over your waist, keeping you warm where his bare skin touched yours. Slow mornings were good mornings. You rolled in his arms until you were facing him, tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. He really was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. It was something you reminded him often.

‘Morning,’ His voice, though usually deep, was always deeper in the mornings, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes met his half-open ones, and you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. The only thing you loved more than spending the night with Aaron, was waking up to him the next morning. He chased your lips as you leaned back, swallowing your laugh as he caught them with his. Large hands encircled your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Swinging a leg over his waist, you manoeuvred yourself over him without breaking the kiss, earning a groan as you rolled your hips languidly down on his. His lips broke away from yours, only to reattach further down your neck, wandering hands moving up and under your pyjama top in their search for skin. You buried your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as his hips rose to meet yours. Moving one hand to the back of your neck, the other around your back, Aaron flipped you, positioning himself on top of you. He kept his weight off you with one arm, which lay next to your head while the other resumed its journey up your side towards your chest. He took a moment to look down at you, appreciating the view below him before he returned his lips to the expanse of untouched skin below your collarbone.

Your hands were half-way to tugging at his shirt when the loud ring of his phone broke you apart. Your eyes stayed closed, a sigh leaving you as he rolled over and off you to grab the device off the side table.

‘Hello?’ His voice was still breathy as he picked up the call, but you could tell instantly it was a work call as his voice became stern and serious. He was on the call for barely thirty seconds before you realised what a work call at 9am on a Saturday meant for you both. ‘Of course. I’ll be there soon.’

The disappointment at your ruined weekend plans was evident on your face. Aaron was already sitting up, stretching out sleep-sore muscles and trying to get the blood circulating back around his entire body. You opened your mouth to try and persuade him to lie back down, just for five more minutes, when your own phone rang. You didn’t need to see the caller ID to know it was Penelope, the unique ringtone she’d set for herself playing loud and clear.

‘Please god let this be a social call.’ There were nicer ways to answer the phone; you didn’t care to use one.

‘I hate being the bearer of bad news, but they found a body in Monogahela national forest, and its not looking pretty,’ Penelope said, an apologetic tone to her normally cheery voice, ‘But don’t worry my love, our resident Boy Genius promised to bring coffees and pastries for everyone.’

‘He’s really earning that genius title,’ You laughed, turning your head slightly to get a better view of Aaron, who was pulling dress pants out of the wardrobe and searching for a tie to match the shirt he’d already laid out at the foot of the bed. He held up two options when he saw you looking. It was very domestic, and you felt all the more disappointed that in one short hour, you’d be back to pretending you hadn’t spent the night - and start of the morning - between the sheets with him. Back to pretending that you weren’t planning to spend the weekend helping Jack bake cookies and cakes for his schools bake sale on Monday, and going for a run with Aaron before you tried to recreate one of Dave’s pasta recipes for dinner with Jack and Jessica. Back to pretending he was just your boss.

You looked away, trying to focus back on Penelope’s words as she explained the flight times and what you needed to add to your go bag. You were glad you’d put your spare overnight bag into the boot of Aarons car.

‘Fuck!’

Yours eyes widened at the sudden exclamation, head whipping back around to see Aaron holding his foot. You barely had time to deduce that he’d stubbed his toe before Penelope’s voice was screaming through the receiver at you.

‘OH MY GOD! Was that a man???’ You were at a loss for words, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. Thankfully, Penelope had no interest in waiting for your response. ‘I thought you went home early, you sly fox!’

‘Listen Pen, I have to go,’ You said quickly, ‘See you soon!’

You pulled the phone away from your ear, her threats of finding out all the details later cut off as you hung up. There was a moment of silence, before you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach tightly. Aaron’s laugh followed yours seconds later, both of you revelling in the ridiculousness of the situation. Seven months of secrets and it was nearly all revealed over a stubbed toe. By the time the laughter had subsided, Aaron had sat back down next to you. You leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone.

‘You know she’s gonna quiz me about this the entire flight, right?’

2

Cases involving children were always hard. After a week of searching and profiling and praying, the team had identified and located the unsub. Five missing children over six months. The latest victim, a young girl kidnapped from the local fair, had been the missing piece of the puzzle that led you to the unsub, but the team had been too late, arriving in time to catch the unsub wrapping her body for disposal. The arrest had been horrible, but sitting with JJ while she informed the victim’s parents was even worse.

By the end of the day, you were completely and utterly drained. You wanted to be back in your own bed, in your own apartment, not in a stuffy hotel room overthinking every decision you had made. Those parents wanted their little girl back. You tried to push the thought from your mind. After nearly an hour in the vicious hell of your own company, you dragged yourself off the bed, and down the hallway to the room you knew Aaron had. You had never been more grateful for the increased hotel budget allowing the team individual rooms on this case.

He was quick to answer the door, still in his suit, though his tie hung undone around his neck. He looked roughly how you felt.  His frown deepened when he saw you, standing with your arms around your torso, eyes red and puffy.

‘Come here,’ he said, already reaching out for you. No more words were needed as he wrapped you up in his embrace, holding you against him. The door swung shut behind you as he guided you further into the room. It was identical to yours, with a double bed in the centre, a small coffee machine and mug on the edge of a small desk, and a door leading into a small bathroom.  Unlike yours, most of Aaron’s belongings had been packed away into his overnight bag, gun and badge sitting on top of the open bag.

‘I hate cases like this,’ you whispered into his neck, letting the repetitive motion of his hand rubbing your back soothe you.

‘I know, so do I.’

You stood together in the middle of the room for a long time before you pulled back. Not far enough to be out of Aaron’s arms, but enough that you could look at him. His brow was furrowed as he met your gaze, face all full of worry and exhaustion. You reached up, running your thumb along his brow to soften the expression, smoothing out the lines. He leaned into your touch. Catching your wrist in his hand, he peppered kisses along the inside of it, following the line all the way to your palm. It was methodical, kisses following the vein as far as they could.

You looped the fingers of your free hand into the loop of his tie, pulling him to you until your lips met his. The kiss wasn’t rushed, or hungry. It was soft and gentle, anchoring you to the present, and away from the past two days. When he pulled back, he let his forehead rest against yours, eyes still closed. It was the moment of calm you had been hoping for since you’d first arrived. It wouldn’t solve all your problems, or take away all the guilt you felt, but it could keep them from overwhelming you entirely. After a minute, you opened your eyes.

‘I really should head back, my bags not going to pack itself, and I do not want to be stuck here any longer than I have to be,’ you said, stepping out of his space with much difficulty. You wanted to stay, borrow his shirt to sleep in and worry about everything else tomorrow, but your flight was early, and you really didn’t want to be rushing to get packed before take-off.

‘I’ll be here if you need me,’ He voice was almost hoarse with how soft he spoke, pulling you back in for one last kiss. You turned then, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind you. You still felt horrible, but the heavy weight on your chest had eased off. That was all you could hope for tonight.

‘Isn’t that Hotch’s room?’ You froze like a deer in headlights outside the door as Spencer’s voice reached your ears. You turned to look at him over your shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t notice the panic-stricken expression on your face.

‘Uh, yeah,’ You forced out, ‘Yeah he uh- you see, my shower wasn’t working.’ Your brain felt fried, but the excuse wasn’t the worst you’d come up with over the previous nine months. ‘He let me us his. Shower.’ Spencer blinked at you, and for a frighteningly long minute, he said nothing.

‘That’s nice of him,’ He said finally, lips curling into a half-smile, ‘Hey, Emily, Derek and I were going to go down to the bar for a drink, if you want to come?’

‘Sounds great, Spence,’ You mirrored his smile, ‘I need to pack, so I’ll meet you down there?’ He nodded, and with that he disappeared down the hall, and you took a deep breath. You’d have to tell them eventually, but not tonight. Not tonight.

You wouldn’t realise until days later that your hair had been completely dry, you had no towels with you, and your excuse had been ridiculously transparent.

1

You knew it was a bad idea to sit next to Aaron on the flight back, but it had been a tough case, and you couldn’t help but yearn for his comfort. Even though it had been short, everyone seemed to be feeling it. With Derek passed out across the couch, and Emily and Spencer focused on their game of cards, there hadn’t been much stopping you gingerly leaning closer to the warmth radiating from the man next to you. He acknowledged your careful closeness by letting the free hand not occupied by the case report drop to rest on your knee under the table.

The coffee you’d made for yourself after boarding had only increased your adrenaline crash, and you could feel your eyelids drooping even as you fought to keep them open. It was a losing battle. The soft material of Aaron’s shirt made contact with your cheek as you leaned against his shoulder. The muscles beneath you tensed, but not enough to wake you from the sleep that had taken over quite rapidly.

Aaron glanced down at you before back up at the rest of the team. JJ was nowhere to be seen, probably in the small airplane kitchen, and the others seemed to be otherwise occupied. When he was sure no one was paying any attention to your little corner of the plane, he allowed himself to relax. It was a needed comfort after the weeks work. His thumb drew soft circles on your thigh, and for the first time all week, he closed the case file and his eyes. Just a minute of peace, that’s all he needed.

The minute ended rather abruptly when the hushed voices of Emily and JJ reached his ears. He stubbornly kept his eyes shut.

‘Think he’d let the rest of his drool on his shoulder like that?’ Emily’s voice was just about audible, the teasing grin on her face clear in his mind even without seeing it. He thought about waking you, pretending it was all just tiredness, and moving on like there weren’t four pairs of eyes on you both. But he couldn’t. Not when your body curved toward him, unaware of its unconscious betrayal. Your hair tickled where it brushed against his neck.

Instead, he opened his eyes slowly, giving the onlookers a chance to turn away. They didn’t need to know he’d heard them. He didn’t need to know they would be continuing this conversation shortly after the plane landed. Dave, who sat across the row from Aaron, hid his smirk with his coffee mug, returning his focus to his book. With one last soft look in your direction (which didn’t go unnoticed by Emily and Spencer), Aaron picked up the case file and got back to work.

+1

‘Fuck.’ You were bent at the middle, hands on your knees for support as you tried to catch a breath. Derek and one of the uniformed officers were already hauling the unsub off towards a police cruiser. A second uniformed officer was searching the area for the weapon, which had been lost in the scuffle. You brushed off Emily’s concern, promising her you were just winded. Straightening up, you swallowed a wince as your hands ached to go to your stinging side. ‘Just, just need to sit for a minute.’

‘We’ll take care of everything here, why don’t you go with Reid, get checked out by the paramedics?’ You blinked rapidly as you tried to focus back on her words.

‘I’m okay, Em, really,’ Your chest felt like it was on fire with every breath you took, but you forced a reassuring smile. She didn’t look reassured. ‘Fine, mom, I’ll get checked when Reid’s done.’

Emily’s concerned look didn’t fade, but she nodded, and you turned back towards the line of black SUVs. Once she had moved off to help make a perimeter around the scene, you slowly walked back to them. Thankfully, the lights and sirens had since been switched off. You pulled yourself into the passenger seat, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt so much. You couldn’t be weak in front of your team. You’d gotten a shock, that’s all. You were fine.

 A wave of tiredness crashed over you as soon as you sat down, leaning forward to balance yourself against the dash. You weren’t catching your breath, instead finding it harder and harder to fill your lungs. A few more minutes, that’s all you needed. You tried desperately to convince yourself the words were true, but as another breath burned its way down your trachea, panic started to set in. All too suddenly, your FBI vest felt too tight, your arms heavy as you tried to tear it off. With a lot of activity, you managed to get it loosened, but as soon as the pressure was released, your head started to spin rapidly. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to dispel the feeling, but within seconds, a darkness had swallowed you.

It could’ve been seconds, minutes, or hours before a sliver of consciousness crept back into your body. There was a noise to your left, and you dazedly tried to turn your head, but it wouldn’t move. You tried to focus on the window in front of you, but your vision was swimming. Feeling wobbly, you tried to push yourself up straighter, tried to turn and move, and then there was a warm hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently back against the seat.

‘Stay still.’ The words were commanding, but the voice was laced with worry. ‘The paramedics are almost here.’ And then, more distant as if the owner of the voice had moved away from you, he yelled, ‘Where are the medics?!’

You didn’t remember much after that, holding onto the voice as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Aaron remembered the whole journey too clearly. Guilt crept through him, worsening the longer it took to reach the hospital. He was sent to the waiting room while you were rushed into surgery. With an abundance of time, and a lack of answers, all he could do was replay the scene in his mind over and over and over again.

The arrest was meant to be easy. With no victims in the house, and no wives or kids in the picture to be used as hostages, it should’ve been easy to disarm the suspect and bring him into custody. Instead, he had let you just close enough to him to grab you and press a small knife against your side. You’d let your guard down when he’d given up so easily. You should’ve known better. It was a tense negotiation, the point of the blade piercing the material of your vest as JJ spoke to the man, Derek sneaking slowly behind him.

As soon as the unsub was fully distracted by JJ, Derek had moved in. Tackling the unsub to the ground had knocked you down with them, your head hitting the ground with a thump. The knife went skittering off as the man’s arm collided with the ground, but with Derek’s knee against his back and arms pressing down on his shoulders, he quickly lost the fight.

Aaron wanted to rush to you, to gather you in his arms and not let you go, but the captain of the police department had already turned his attention to the growing crowd of journalists and bystanders trying to get closer to get the full story. Emily had already gone to you, so with an unconscious scowl, Aaron turned and followed the captain towards the tape.  

It wasn’t long before he was joined by JJ and Dave, as the trio attempted to subdue the now impatient journalists and horrified neighbours.

‘Hotch!’ Emily’s voice carried over the commotion to reach his ears. He turned to watch her as she weaved through the crowd of officers to reach him. Dave glanced at them, before redirecting the journalists in front of them onto another question, leaving Aaron the gap he needed to step back.

‘What’s wrong?’ He didn’t wait for her to come to a stop, the concerned look on her face clueing him into the fact something was amiss.

‘Its y/n.’ Aaron swore in that moment his heart stopped beating. ‘They promised they’d get checked out by the medics, but Reid said they haven’t been anywhere near the ambulances.’

A quick glance over his shoulder showed JJ and Dave gaining control of the mob, and he nodded to Emily, already striding away from the mass of bodies. She was quick to follow. Taking the lead, she headed back towards the SUVs, where she assumed you must’ve gone. She hadn’t seen you when she passed, but it had been a quick pass.

Aaron himself nearly missed your figure through the tinted windows, slumped down in the seat. His heart stopped for a second time that day.

‘Get a medic!’ It was his voice yelling out, but it sounded distant, even to his own ears. With the door flung open, he put his hand on your shoulder and shook. Your head lolled with the motion, but your eyes fought to open. You were alive. Feeling resistance under his fingers, he gently pushed you back against the seat, eyes scanning your figure trying to find the damage. ‘Stay still,’ He tried to keep his voice steady and calm, swallowing the lump in his throat as a trail of red caught his attention. The bottom of your vest was torn and a shaded darker than the rest, a small red trail leaking out from underneath onto your white shirt. Carefully manoeuvring you to a position where he had better access, he pressed down hard against the dark spot.

‘The paramedics are almost here.’ He couldn’t tell if you could still hear him, your eyelids fluttering rapidly. He leaned out of the car as far as he could without lessening the pressure, ‘Where are the medics?!’

He could see two people in high vis jackets approaching quickly, Emily leading the way. Two big bags and a stretcher was carried between the two, and it was only mere seconds before they were ushering him back and out of their way so they could assess the damage.

Whatever they decided, it wasn’t good. They removed your vest, and shirt, and by the amount of packing being shoved back into one of the bags, the bleeding wasn’t slowing. If he wasn’t so panicked, Aaron would’ve appreciated how efficiently they worked. It was only five minutes before you were being packed into the back of the ambulance. Dave had been left in charge at the scene, with instructions to come to the hospital as soon as everything was cleared at the scene and the precinct.

The paramedic in the back with Aaron – Thomas, as he’d introduced himself – busied himself with taking sets of vitals every 5 minutes, monitoring the pressure bandages around your abdomen, and ensuring the flow of oxygen was at a steady level. All the while, he tried to keep Aaron clued into what was happening for every step.

By the time they’d reached the hospital, you had a sickly pallor. You were rushed immediately into an emergency theatre. Once the doors closed in front of him, it took every ounce of strength to carry his body to the waiting room. He sat for what felt like days, before a nurse came to find him. In reality it had been an intensive two-hour surgery, and a thankfully uneventful recovery. On route to your room, he was given the news that everything had gone smoothly. Luck had been on your side, and the wound had missed everything important. It had only barely nicked a large vein, which had caused the large bleed, but had been easy to fix. It would be at least six weeks of desk duty, but you would recover.

Sitting at your bedside, Aaron gripped your hand in his, careful not to squeeze too hard. He was positive you’d hit him if you felt he was treating you as if you were fragile, but until you woke up, he would take that chance. With the adrenaline dropping and the relief flooding in, all he could do was hold on and not let go. After 40 minutes of watching for signs of you waking up, Aaron could feel his eyelids dropping. He didn’t try keep them open, instead shuffling the chair closer to the edge of the bed. You would be there when he woke, as he would be when you woke.

Which you did, just over an hour later. Aaron was still asleep, and you were careful not to wake him. If it took you getting stabbed to get him a few extra hours of sleep, you were making damn sure he got all he could. A nurse came into the room shortly after you woke, and Aaron slept through the check-up. It was your turn to watch him. Admiring the calm in his sleepy features, and gently squeezing the hand still clutching yours. The nurse had let you know he’d been there from the second he'd been allowed in the room. You didn’t need to hear the words. You knew he loved you.

‘You can see them now.’

It had been a longer wait for the rest of the team, who’d arrived shortly after Aaron had left the waiting room. Together they stood and followed the nurse down the hallway into a quieter section of the hospital. Through the open door, they could see you, attached to tubes and wires, but eyes open and sitting up. Next to you was Aaron. The spare visitors seat had been pulled as close to the bed as possible, and that’s where he sat. He was clearly asleep, given the closed eyes and steady breaths. He was leaned slightly towards you, head tilted down. With his sleeves rolled to his elbows, his tie loose around his neck, and his hair in disarray, he looked about as unkempt as the team had ever seen him. But he also looked calm. His usually furrowed brow was relaxed, and his lips forwent their usual downturn in exchange for a slightly parted straight line. Your thumb absentmindedly smoothed over the skin of his knuckles, and you smiled fondly at his sleeping figure. It was sickeningly obvious from your expression that you had so much love for him.

When you finally felt eyes on you, you looked up to see four eager faces greeting you just outside your door. The fond smile on your face only got fonder as they quietly piled into the room. The noise woke Aaron, who’s eyes immediately found yours. Pulling your joined hands up, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, before straightening up in the seat. He didn’t drop your hand.

Surrounded by your family, you couldn’t help but think that really, you were going to be just fine.

~~~~~

taglist: @michasia24

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #y/n #bau team #5 + 1 fic #5+1 times

[humanransome-note]

Week of nov. 16-a rant in three days and many bullet points

Monday

my aunt picked me up. She had been exposed to COVID and told me as such. We took all necessary precautions on the drive home—open car windows, she wore an N95, we didn’t hug or anything. But honestly I am not concerned at the time, she had been exposed to COVID several times, and even when my uncle, her husband who she lives with caught it twice, she did not.

Tuesday

The day is sort of okay, but the other cashier/my cover for lunch is late. I mention this to my manager and she says “Oh Alexis isn’t late, she was moved to 3-9” My shift ends at 2 and I should’ve had “lunch” at about 11. At this point it is already 12:30.

No one told me about this shift change.

We have a rush, so I can’t leave for my very late lunch. (Like I’m allowed to leave, but my anxiety and “work ethic” won’t let me)

Rush ends, it’s 1:30 give or take.

“Hey, would you mind staying until about 3-3:30?”

My aunt texted me she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t pick me up so I said sure.

Don’t pick up my phone again until 3:00.

Aunt: I tested positive, isolation for the next five days.

Wednesday

I tell my manager, who has noticed I’m wearing a face mask today, what happened. She said to keep her updated on how I’m feeling.

So I start my day as I usually do, look for petty things to occupy my time until a customer comes up to buy something.

First customer comes up, and the register is a bit slower than usual, at this point I just think it’s cause it had a reboot earlier.

‘‘Twas not the case.

For the entire day, the main register “my register” was slower than usual. Like it would take a good twenty seconds for rung items to show up on screen. I would scan a coupon and instead of the fun little woosh of discounts the whole thing just froze before all the information popped up on screen.

In the distance of the line, I see a woman.

A woman who, I swear to good, just grabbed the fucking display rack of frame ornaments and put them in her cart.

Eight (8) pegs, twelve (12) ornaments each.

And these aren’t all the same ornament, they’re the same price but not the same ornament.

So, doing what I think is logical, I move over to the “Manager register” the good register, with the scanning gun that doesn’t throw a fit every ten seconds, rebooting with its little ”doot doot doto” every time something knocks it, the one that scans receipt barcodes unlike mine where I have to type in the string of numbers on top. Roughly forty (40) digits.

So as I’m scanning this woman’s items(she had more than just 96 photo frame ornaments) my manager shouts at me from over the wall/shelf thing that separates me from the rest of the store.

“That’s the manager’s register, you can’t use it.”

I try to explain the issue, but I’ve got a woman in front of me, recounting her NINTY-SIX ORNAMENTS and a fucking line. I do not have the time or the patience to explain to her that my register likely needs a reboot, and that I couldn’t just do a quantity override, and that even if I did I didn’t know where she was and/or how long it would take for her to get to the front. So after just shouting “I know!” Because again I’m wearing a face mask and I already mumble, I turn around and finish this woman’s transaction, before moving back to my shitty register.

My lunch was supposed to be noon today, you already know I didn’t take it at noon. 1:36 actually, and my shift ended at 3.

Now, the other cashier, decent lady, used to be a bartender. Fucked up her feet, good and proper nerve damage. Today was apparently a bad pain day, something I was unaware of until I attempted to for once in this fucking job not leave 10-20 minutes after my shift was supposed to end and actually on fucking time.

Other cashier is doing something, and a customer is walking up to the register, I’ve got my shit and I am ready to go!

“Could you get this customer for me please?”

I do, because of course I do.

A line forms behind this customer and I check out like three others after her.

And once that wave of people is done and she has logged out of the other register to pick up the “main register” (“my register”) she snaps at me about how I always leave it a mess and that she can’t keep cleaning up after me.

The rejection sensitive dysphoria punched me pretty hard after hearing that.

And I won’t claim to be the cleanest person, okay? I’ll admit that.

But I don’t ever really have time to clean after that first customer. There’s a hierarchy of what I should be concerned with.

Buy online, pick up in store- I have to bag and tag these items before putting them on their shelf. And now we have to update how we do this because people were getting their stuff stolen (sort of obvious that would happen) and I can’t update the pick up lists myself. Only the new scanners can do that and only the managers have the new scanners.

Tear up old frames packaging a certain way so we can use it to wrap up fragile objects

Sales fliers- these things are sent to us by corporate, I have to (on semi-regular occasion) empty out the old sleeves, and put in the new flier.

Soda/fridge/candy- you know how stores have like a fridge or two of water, soda, and sometimes energy drinks? Yeah, I gotta keep that stocked, and unfortunately the most effective way of doing it requires removing the shelves. Also the impulse candy need to be maintained.

Clearence tagging- what it says on the tin.

So for me, personally, a guy who barely picks his foot off of the ground when he walks and needs to take a few steps to actually get in the rhythm of walking. Not leaving a barely ten by three foot rectangle of space for roughly 5-6 hrs a day means I don’t really worry about what’s on the floor, I’m more likely to kick it than I am to step on it.

And again, it fades into the background.

She has been working here for about half as long as I have, and several days she had to move to the main register after me. At no point, did she bring up my station maintenance until today. I pick shit up off the floor when I leave (most of the time, I won’t say I haven’t forgotten because it’s possible I have.)

And there’s always a bunch of shit behind me, stacked or in baskets, because I can’t go put returns back on the shelves myself (even though I’d love that to be my job) because usually until 11 I can’t leave the registers alone, and then there’s damn near always a fucking customer.

I would love to walk around with a cart a scanner and maybe the clearance gun all day, picking shit up and putting it back while also occasionally helping customers sounds actually pretty decent.

Anyway my shift is finally over, I can go home and I do and when I see there’s an alert from my banking app I pop it open to find…

My order for @krissology ‘s Forget me Not and @brandyllyn ‘s Love Nor Money did not go through because of overdraft.

I feel most comfortable wearing Ren fair garb, and that shit is expensive.

I fixed the issue, but that changed the arrival date to a day I would be working and I do not like the idea, of two books I desperately want to read, being left out on my stoop to be stolen or rained upon.

So I had to cancel the order for now.

And that’s been my week so far folks!

#wurds #Mitchell’s arts and crafts

[promotionrubyalston]

Evaluation 1

Throughout my research, visiting galleries has helped me understand the importance of organisation in collaborative shows and exhibitions. How a work is shown in a space is very important and can completely change the appearance of an artwork especially when grouped with others of a different theme. A gallery space should not be overly busy as it then might take away the individuality of each piece.

In the ‘Taste’ exhibition at the GOMA the display of work was simple yet effective. Consisting of white walls with the addition of artists names in bold text. Within my research I’ve discovered that the majority of galleries and exhibitions rarely offer information in paper form anymore. They have now progressed to using QR codes that will take you to further information. I think covid is a significant reason as to why this started as it reduces the amount of touching. A positive of this is that it’s become a much more eco friendly way for an artist to promote their work. QR codes allow artists to add as much information as the want and advertise their other platforms. With the leaflets gone it allows gallery’s to look clean and not ruin the appearance of the space and the work itself. One negative of QR codes is that it becomes inaccessible to people who may not have smart phones, maybe the older generation, making it extremely hard to accommodate everyone. Additionally I believe myself that leaflets can also act as a souvenir, a copy that the public can take home with them.

While visiting the GOMA I had a look at the Elizabeth Price exhibition ‘Slow Dans’, which consists of 3 films. At the entrance to the exhibition there was a small introduction about the artist, followed by a brief explanation of the work and a QR code which provided further information. What I found really interesting about Price’s Exhibition is that on the way into the film there was a tv showing which screen was playing which film, what was currently playing and also when the next one would start. This is really helpful as a viewer, usually when walking into a gallery and there’s a film playing Its hard to know whether it’s the start middle or end so this allows the viewer to know exactly what they are watching and when the next one will start.

In addition to QR codes, social media in general is a massive benefit in todays art world. Having a platform to promote your work becomes a great way of building connections and having loyal followers. Platforms such as instagram, Facebook or personal websites allows the public to access upcoming show dates and share to others. I definitely feel like now a days artists are really lucky to have this option.

Finally, a good addition to an exhibition is to have floor plans to make the space easy to navigate. This lets viewers to understand more about the space and become familiar with each artist and where one ends and another one starts.

Evaluation 2

Throughout the promotional module I have carried out different research, visited galleries and exhibitions across Glasgow and Edinburgh, and explored the different elements within the promotion and display of work. This research has influenced the installation of my degree show as well as helped widen my knowledge for the future in my professional career as an artist. 

In regards to the promotional aspect of my degree show I carried out different ways to promote my work as an individual as well as a whole class. First of all we wanted to digitally promote our work so as a class we took charge of the colleges official instagram account so that we could do a takeover. This was spread out over 2 weeks with 2 to 3 students each day. Each student prepared their own artist statement along with 3 images of their best work. This allowed the public to get a preview of each student as well as brief context of their work. Alongside this I have also been regularly posting on my professional instagram account where I show previous and current projects I’ve been working on. In the past few weeks I have been exchanging follows with the design students in order to gain and build a following for my account in hope that other artists will find me and can contact me for collaboration work. 

I used a QR code generator to create a link that directs you straight to my creative instagram account. I plan to print this out very small to sit underneath my name plaque so that it doesn’t distract from my work. I have discovered that this is a great way of promoting myself as an artist and allowing the audience to gather more information about my work and view projects I have been working on. Throughout my research and visits to galleries I’ve came across QR codes in almost every exhibition, i believe this is a good way for artists to get in contact with one another.

As a class we collaborated with the design students and set up meetings to discuss the marketing of the show. we decided that the design and photography students could be responsible for the posters and flyers as they have a better understanding of digital posters. I think the final posters do look good however I feel as though the imagery doesn’t relate at all to contemporary art practice and doesn’t show its full potential. I think if our class had a say in it we could have made it look a lot more creative and exciting for the public. I have decided that on the week leading up to the degree show I am going to hand out posters in my work as I have formed a bond with a lot of the members and know they would love to see my work. I will also be posting stories on my instagram account with all the information of the show to get out to my followers.

Overall I am pleased with the efforts made in relation to the promotion of our degree show. I feel as though I have made good efforts to promote myself as an artist as well as contribute my thoughts and ideas to the course as a whole.

[pickledmickles]

U kno bc of my job as (fancy and specific, yet underpaid, position) at (corporate burger restaurant), I was tasked with getting a bunch of display boards all up and pretty.

1 for communications from corporate/standards/menu changes etc.,

1 for """culture""" (me organizing fun things for my coworkers and taking pics, celebrating bdays, doing monthly breakfasts where I wake up at ass o clock to make a big breakfast buffet for the team even tho only like 2 ppl show up)

1 for my training crew (complete w pictures and fun facts about all of them)

I spent. 10 hours yesterday. Doing the culture/trainer ones. The last thing I needed to laminate jammed the laminator. I disassembled the laminator with a loose drill bit and a steak knife. I wrestled the crumpled plastic out. I re assembled the laminator. I spent ALLL DAYYYYY on this shit

And today. The fuckign. Corporate communications board fell down. I didn't touch it yesterday tho!! No. It fell down bc the mf that put it up refused to clean the wall he was sticking it on, and he refused to drill it in, despite me telling him to do exactly those things. And it fell on my one singular day off of the week.

I know no one is going to fix it while I'm not there so I guess I'll worry about it on shift for $2.13 an hour while I'm bartending lmao

#when it pays off it rlly pays off dont get me wrong #and most of my coworkers recognize how much i put in #but this is SO ANNOYING #2 days before a corporate overlord cones in #i forgot to tag this #personal #vent #rant #etc etc

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles blog #harry styles headcannon #harry styles au #dad!harry #one direction smut #one direction fanfiction

[pingutats]

For the “ways to say i love you” prompts, 43 please!

thank you for the request! from this list, prompt 43: "I picked these for you."

warnings: none! this is just fluff!

word count: 1.8k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

This is definitely Harry’s domain.

Y/N hugs her shoulders as she stands in her bedroom-turned-dressing-room, staring at the rack of expensive clothes that have been left for her. Through the door, she can hear the noise of the crew bustling around her living room. This house has, of course, been the site of many Harry-hosted parties that had packed in a lot more people than there are present here today — despite that, this smaller group is threatening to become overwhelming for her.

She’s doing this for Harry. A couple of months ago, he was approached by AnOther Magazine to do a big feature with them — a kind of sequel to the one that he did when they were still called Another Man — and he’s been pouring his heart and soul into it since then. It feels like every single day, he’s been off chatting with a writer or meeting with the creative director. He dragged boxes out of storage to rifle through for mementos of his life as a solo artist last week. Y/N knows that some of their friends have been interviewed to talk about Harry. She’s pretty sure Stevie Nicks is one of them.

The centrepiece, though, is a photoshoot more intimate than he’s ever shared before. In the same way that the shoot set in his hometown years ago illustrated where he came from before he rocketed to stardom, this one will reveal who he is underneath all the make-up and glamour of fame.

Harry as he exists in private: in his home, with his girl, sharing this image of himself for the very first time.

Y/N was apprehensive at first — hell, Harry was too — but they’ve discussed it at length. He’s always been a private man, but his ethos is that honesty is integral to his art. He sings in detail about her in his music and puts that into the world with minimal censoring. This magazine feature, at its core, is just another artistic venture. He doesn’t want to hold back. When she understood it like that, it was easy for her to agree.

Her conviction that this is an important thing to do for Harry doesn’t stop the nerves, though. She’s never been a model, or even remotely a figure of interest beyond her connection to Harry. It’s his limelight that she’s stepping into. She can’t help but feel nervous about it.

The first outfit she’s wearing is a boldly patterned dress, custom-made by Gucci at Harry’s request. This isn’t the first time she’s wearing something this expensive (there are no compromises on fashion when you’re with Harry) but it still makes her feel like a fish out of water. She holds the hanger at arms-length for a moment, vaguely anxious that she might have put on weight since the fitting and it won’t fit her anymore, then carefully slips it off. She steps into it gingerly and shrugs it over her shoulders, then reaches behind her to pull the zip up as far as she can reach. She stands in front of the mirror and looks at her reflection, frowning.

Her make-up, which was done earlier, is colourful and dramatic. The point of this home shoot is to show the dichotomy between Harry’s celebrity persona and his private life, illustrated through the elaborate costuming inside their relatively normal home. She doesn’t recognise herself in it.

There’s a knock at the door, startling her out of her thoughts. She whips around, back straightening. “What is it?”

“Can I come in?” It’s Harry’s voice, and just those four short words in his gentle tone are enough to dissolve some of her anxiety.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself into a calmer headspace. “Yeah,” she answers.

He opens the door discreetly and slips inside, careful not to reveal her to the people in the living room while she’s not properly dressed. She appreciates his caution. Although he’s apparently comfortable enough to walk around near-strangers half-naked—he’s only wearing his boxers right now—she definitely isn’t.

“Everything alright, darling?” he asks. Every step that brings him closer puts her more at ease. She’s always been an anxious person, but he’s like a drug to her. From the very first time they met, he’s been the person she feels most natural with. They just work. Things feel right with him.

She smiles at him. It’s a weak stretch of her lips, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah. Can you zip me up, please?”

“Of course.”

She turns back around to face the mirror and reaches behind her head to pull her hair out of his way. His fingers are warm against bare skin of her back, finding the zipper and dragging it up, his knuckles brushing against her skin more than is probably necessary. He fixes the way the straps sit over her shoulders with the same attention to detail that she’s seen his stylists give for him a hundred times before. His lip is tucked between his teeth as he does so, glancing from the mirror back to her, his face the image of concentration.

Finally satisfied, he takes a step back and rakes his gaze up and down her figure. “Y’look gorgeous.”

She shrugs, staring at herself. “Thanks, H.”

“I mean it.” He plants a kiss on her cheek, holding her by the waist as they look at each other through their reflections. “Pretty dress for a pretty girl.”

Heat rises in her face and she drops her gaze to the floor. “Now you’re doing too much.”

He shakes his head. “‘M not. Promise I’m not.”

She hums, appraising their reflection with a frown. Even in his underwear, Harry is Harry, and she… She feels like she’s playing dress up in someone else’s wardrobe, dipping her toes into someone else’s life. Harry is at ease in a place like this but she certainly isn’t.

Harry seems to sense this. “Something the matter?” he asks her gently.

“No, just —“ she wrings her hands in front of her, searching for the words. “I don’t feel like me.”

He furrows his brow. “I know what you mean. ’S weird when you do all this—” he flutters his hand around the room, at the rack of clothes and towards the door where they can hear someone giving directions to shift the couch slightly to the left “—just to get a photo done. And I know you’re not used to it.” He squeezes her waist gently. “But you look beautiful. Just like you always do.”

She can’t suppress a small smile at that, bumping her head against Harry’s shoulder with a quietly mouthed, “Thank you.”

He turns his head to kiss her hair, then releases his grip on her waist and moves over to the rack of clothes. “But did y’see…” He bends down to pick up a plastic container marked Look 1 from the shelf at the bottom. He opens it up to reveal various pieces of jewellery inside, and delicately picks out a couple pieces with nimble fingers. “I picked these for you.”

They’re her earrings. More specifically, they’re the earrings that he gave her for their first anniversary. A couple of dangling pearls—he’d bought them during his obsession with the gems. They’re a sweet memento of that time of their lives, of the honeymoon phase that felt like it lasted forever, that never really fizzled out even to this day. They’re her favourites.

She realises her mouth has dropped open. “When did you sneak those in?” she asks.

He shrugs, smirking. “I have my ways. I’m sneaky.” He returns to his previous position standing behind her, nudging her hair behind her ear with his knuckles. “May I?”

She nods, trying not to shiver as his fingers brush against her ears.

“There we go,” he says, stepping back. “Is that a bit better?”

The girl in the mirror looks familiar now. Despite the make-up and the dress, she can see herself. The same face, framed by the same earrings, that has accompanied Harry through all sorts of days and nights. Today is just another one of those things. Something they’re doing, together, and isn’t that all she wants, for them to do everything together?

Being with Harry is a dream she never wants to wake up from. They’ve built a paradise together and now they get to share a tiny part of it with the world—not for the world to share in it, but to see just how beautiful it is.

There’s a little part of Y/N that hopes it makes the rest of the world jealous. They should be, she thinks.

“It’s perfect, H,” she tells him, glancing over her shoulder so she looks at his real face, not just his reflection. “Honestly. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He looks proud of himself—his eyes are shining and his dimples are on display as he looks her up and down once more. “It’s all you.”

Y/N mirrors him, her gaze travelling down his body. She bites her lip.

Harry seems to remember suddenly that he’s only in his underwear—his hands fly to cover his thinly-clothed privates and he looks at her, his mouth open in a sly grin. “This is not the time,” he scolds, his shoulders shaking as he suppresses laughter.

Y/N rolls her eyes, grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him to turn around. “Go get dressed, you dork.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

The suit that Harry wears is made out of the same material as Y/N’s dress, bright and bold colours. The photographer is accomodating of her nerves as he has them sit on the couch. The window is wide open to allow the natural light to illuminate their faces, and the Y/N can feel the warmth of the sun on her face. The sky is a brilliant blue. It’s a perfect day.

“Okay, look this way,” the photographer tells her, drawing her attention from the window to the camera. “A little closer, Harry.”

Harry shifts over, his thigh pressing against hers. His hand comes to rest on her knee, then lifts suddenly as if he’s remembered something. “Hang on a minute,” he says to the photographer, holding up a finger.

He twists around to face Y/N and carefully sweeps her hair back over her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear to ensure the pearl earring is on clear display. She smiles at him, which he returns in a quick unspoken exchange of gratitude and care.

“Alright,” Harry says, settling back to face the photographer. His hand finds Y/N’s and he squeezes it. “We’re good.”

The camera clicks and the flash goes off. Their hands remain joined on Harry’s lap.

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, a reblog & any kind of message would be really appreciated. i'm open to any requests, from the prompt list linked above or from your own imagination, which you can send here. all my other writing is linked on my masterlist. have a lovely day!

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #fic

[timextoxhajima]

Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [3]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: suggestive material, smut *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: i genuinely don't fucking know i think it's at least 4k WHY THE FUCK IS IT GETTING LONG ERJSJSJSJDNAKD

taglist: @from-xero @taeyongandfree @ten-gift @louvyves @sweetutopia @yyyereum @jung-breadshop @sunwoowuvbot @mashedpotittiess

protip: links of BGM are linked~

{this is a work of fiction}

eric swipes his thumb across his bottom lip and drags his index finger over the tip of his nose, tongue still sucking on his teeth as if it hadn't already been a day.

he was sitting on the other side of the tutorial room and you just so happened sat in a spot where he was the first person in your view when you looked up.

stupid hexagonal tables.

the moisture in your mouth suddenly evaporates, leaving your tongue dry like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

the lustful blanket over his eyes threaten to rip your mentality apart, and even without him touching you, the heat in your abdomen starts to clench and throb.

the thought crosses your mind, just so you can convince yourself: if eric can associate himself with sex within your primal instincts then the brain that got you here can associate him with a big, fucking, red flag.

you suck in a deep breath and hold it for awhile, eyes plastered to the ipad under your palms. crossing your legs tightly, your jeans hug your hips and waist all too perfectly.

yujeong had smacked one of her baseball friends earlier that day for staring at your legs.

after the likes of wooseok's party and the incident yesterday, you made it an effort not to show up in dresses or skirts anymore. call it ptsd, call it trauma, call it not wanting to get into trouble.

whatever it was, you didn't want eric anywhere near you.

well, despite how good he mad-

"can you stop eye-fucking him from across the room?" yujeong harshly whispers at you, glaring at you from the corner of her eyes.

"what?" throwing your tied-up hair to your other shoulder, you tilt your face to her.

"what do you mean 'what'?" yujeong hisses, nodding to the boy across the room. "y'all are fucking in your heads!"

"yes, broadcast it to the entire class, would you, please?" the sarcasm drips off your tongue with a frown.

"I'm just saying if you want him so bad then just go get a room. fucks' sake, go find a practice room or something."

"i think I'll go with 'or something'."

and in that second, your iPad lights up with a notification from the school email account.

yujeong parts her lips with a retort, but you quickly shush her by pressing a finger to your lips when the professor seemed to glance over at the two of you.

she inhales a deep breath, spotting the notification pop up on her laptop screen too.

to: all students

from: the college union

title: dance union winter getaway

dear students,

every year, more than 200 students apply for the dance union but only 20 are accepted. thus, it is of high regard that the members of the dance union utilise the annual winter getaway to bond.

this year's event will be held at lake white. all students in the dance union with leadership positions are expected to be present and those with valid reasons of absence are required to fill up the form attached to this email.

if you're interested in joining the dance union, please apply in the first week of the new academic year. applications open first week of the semester.

regards,

the student union

staring wide-eyed at the email with your apple pencil trembling in your fingers, you gulp.

fuck.

yujeong's lowly snicker sounds from next to you, and you look to her, only to watch a bright smile stretch across her face.

"what?" she snorts, tears in her eyes. "don't look at me. look at your captain."

your neck snaps to the boy across the room, who's got his phone lifted with the screen displaying the email page. he waves it around a little, raising a brow with a menacing shimmer flashing across his eyes.

your blood begins to boil without reason.

why were you suddenly stuck to him? it's like the planets and stars aligned just so he glue himself to you; so he could ruin your title and rip you apart, inch by inch.

your fists clench around the apple pencil, and you're only snapped out of your inner rage when the professor calls on you.

yujeong leans into the lockers with her books against her chest, mindlessly scrolling through her phone as you go on incessantly about the student union's decision to make it mandatory.

you swing the locker door so hard that it bounces off its limit and nearly comes back down onto your hands, but you stop it before it does.

"how does the fucking winter getaway improve our bonds?" you hurl a textbook into the locker. "it's not like we're gonna sit in a circle and sing hallelujah, right?"

"you went for that getaway last year-"

"yeah, and we did nothing besides getting shitfaced! fuck this stupid winter getaway."

"sis, say that any louder and your 'innocent heartbreaker' image is gonna change into something more like 'brutal heartbreaker'."

"don't fucking call me that," you hurl another book into your locker. "and why does everybody talk like that nowadays? 'say that any louder'? where was that from? a movie? a tiktok?"

"why are you so on edge?" yujeong pushes herself off the metal doors and frowns. "you've been on edge ever since wooseok's party."

"i am always on edge."

"what?" yujeong pulls her lips up into a slight wince as her eyes half into squints. "bullshit. what happened to your little 'innocent heartbr-"

"don't," you lift a finger, shutting your eyes and stopping her. "say another word."

yujeong raises both her brows, smirk plastered to her face as she readjusts her bag. "don't worry."

you look up at her, placing the last item in your locker.

"i don't have to."

"what?"

"so," then that godforsaken voice rings from behind you, and all your physical senses start to shut down one by one.

yujeong sees right past it, smirk turning into something less devious as she puffs her cheeks.

"about the winter getaway."

"i'll leave the two of you at it."

"what? no-"

"bye!"

"yujeong-"

she turns and strides off, short hair lathered around her neck. she waves with a bright grin, leaving you to back face the vicious heartbreaker.

you remain rooted to the ground, locker door wide open and bag slung around your right shoulder. eric waits until yujeong disappears down the hall, leaving a few other students within the vicinity to turn and stare at the two infamous dance captains.

eric walks to your side, reaching out and resting his palm on the outer edge of your locker.

"we're in open space," he smiles, gradually pushing the locker door inwards and closing it for you. then he rests his palm against the metal door, sandwiching you again. "there's not much i can do to you."

a few students turn to stare.

"unless you want me to."

"stop it."

"stop what?" he smirks and buckles his arms, forcing you to lay your back flat against the metal surface. "I'm not doing anything."

"then what are you doing now?" you frown and look up at him, knuckles whitening around your bag straps.

"having a conversation."

someone fishes a phone out, and the flashlight flickers.

eric whirls around, keeping his arm anchored to the locker.

"stand down, kid."

"sorry," he fumbles with the phone, and now you'll never know if he actually took a picture.

"anyway-"

"look, i don't know what kind of game you're playing but this isn't healthy for us if we are supposed to work together. especially with the winter getaway coming up."

eric licks his lips and lowers his head, smiling at the sudden cast of professionalism.

"it flatters me that you don't care too much about having fucked outside of wooseok's garage-"

"eric-"

"nor getting fucked out in the practice room-"

"eric-"

"or even the fact that you tied up your hair today-"

"i tie up my hair whenever i fucking want to."

"ooh," eric winces at the snap, his pearly whites glimmering under the lighting. "the 'innocent heartbreaker' is angry!"

"will you shut the fuck up?"

"aw," he coos, leaning into you and breathing down your philtrum. "make me."

your fists finally clench, jaws locked and temples tightened.

"I'll rip off your dick if you touch me again. now, back off."

you press your palms flat into his chest and shove him away, breaking him into light chuckles as he stumbles back.

you pull your bag back onto your shoulder, turning sharply and stomping off.

"hey! we still need to meet up to discuss the plans for lake white!"

the scent of half-painted canvases with acrylic paint washes through your nose when you enter your room.

it's definitely bigger than what a normal room should look like, but it's not your fault that both your parents work under Lee Enterprises, the country's telemarketing company.

the studio corner of your room is in a mess, and you're just halfway done painting the edges of your mirror.

which for specific reasons, you can't really look at it anymore.

the peculiar object you chose to decorate the glass surface hang idly on the corner of the frame, reflecting the afternoon sun spilling into the room.

eric son: so when do we discuss the plans for lake white?

eric son: i don't like to procrastinate

"'discuss the plans for lake white'," mumbling under your breath, you dump your bag into the corner of your room, huffing and resting your hands on your hips. "he's the damn captain, isn't he? he can do it on his own."

notification: acrylic paint to be delivered today

your phone automatically links up with the bluetooth speaker in the room, and you mindlessly tap on the shuffle button before pulling off your shoes.

eric son: okay so I'm thinking groups of four

you pull off your jacket and let the ends of your ponytail brush across your back where the camisole doesn't cover, cool air rushing across the hairs on your skin.

eric son: we can play truth or dare

the bass rumbles through the flooring as you pull off your jeans, throwing on one of those open-holed shorts that no one was ever going to see you in - not even yujeong.

the doorbell rings, yanking you out of your mental rage session over eric son.

acrylic paint.

picking up a cardigan and tying it around your waist, you jog down the stairs and pull open the door without hesitation.

She's just that type of girl

"what. in the world. are you doing here?"

eric tilts his head to the side, his eyes running the length of your body - all the way down to your feet and back up.

"you weren't replying my texts so i thought-" then he raises both hands from his sides, taking a step back and gesturing to your front porch like he owned it. "what better way to have your presence than to go to you?"

"how do you know where i live?" a frown befalls your brows, and your grip tightens on the door handle.

"it's in the school records for student leaders," he offers you a smug shrug, taking a step back to where he was previously standing.

your lips part in an attempt to challenge his explanation, but then he waves it off with a cheeky snicker. "I'm joking. yujeong told me."

"now, why the fuck would she give you my address?"

"hey, captain to captain! plus she knows i won't hurt you."

a scoff runs off your tongue. "you want me to believe that you won't hurt me?"

eric's tongue darts across his lips as he leans on the door frame. "not in your house. oh, i wouldn't dare, princess."

with a huff, you blink away the eye contact first, taking a step back and tugging on the door. "don't fucking call me that."

but his hand flies out and thuds against the wood, keeping the door open. he slowly steps forward, letting himself in.

"then what should i call you?"

"names exist," you step back and grip onto the empty arms of your cardigan around your waist. he closes the door, pulling the chain to lock it.

"then do you prefer y/n or 'innocent heartbreaker'?"

you squint at him, cocking your face at an angle as you back up again.

the answer settles in your head, but you can't say it out loud.

because he's already debunked it.

She's just that type of girl

"fun playlist," eric nods up the stairs, arm stretching out to you and snaking around your waist.

"don't fucking touch me-"

then his other hand circles you as well, his arms around you as he holds you to him, lowering his face into yours. an arching back tries to keep his face off yours, but any more and your spine would've snapped into two.

his nose presses into your cheek as he slots his lips between yours, and the world goes into a muffled silence for a few seconds.

or maybe that was just your playlist moving on.

your nails dig the inside of your clenched palm, fists against his chest as he pulls you up to deepen the kiss, lips moving with yours in some intricate dance of dominance.

on beat with the distant bass coming from your room.

he lets out the first groan, his hands gradually sliding down your back and groping the flesh of your rear that's poking out from under your shorts.

the harsh grip squeezes a whimper out from you, your entire body cringing forward into him and closing the gap between you. with one palm still holding onto your ass, the other comes back up in between your shoulder blades, keeping your chest plastered to his.

eric turns you around, holding you against the wall that leads up to the stairs. your back is flat against the surface, hair stuck to the felt of the wall with your thigh being pulled up over his pelvis.

We should just calm down and fuck some time

then he pulls away and huffs, lips hung wide open and his eyes completely lost in yours. in a low growl, subtly shakes his head as if to disapprove your disobedience against the song lyrics.

"oh, we fucking should."

eric doesn't bother waiting for a response before dipping his nose into your jaw, lips latching onto the tender skin of your neck.

"you coming here-" a jolt of bliss rushes through you when he finds a tender spot, his arms tightening around your waist to keep you close and against the wall. "-was not an invitation-"

the cologne on his clothes starts to intoxicate you like alcohol does to any normal person, the scent of his hair and his clothes wafting and shuffling all around you.

"but you don't hate me being here, do you, princess?" he mumbles into your skin, nipping at the spot behind your lobe. your eyes flutter shut, fists clenching against his shoulder blades.

"come on," he whispers. "we've done it outside and in a practice room, surely you must feel more comfortable in your own bed?"

your eyes widen upon the suggestion, the thought of that cursed object hanging over the corner of your mirror in the room suddenly pulling your soul back into your body.

"no, we can't."

eric pulls away from you, lips reddened from the nipping. they are apart, and his breathing slows as he studies your face.

the panic in your eyes is far too grave for him to miss.

"why not?"

gulp.

"you don't happen to-"

"it's not a vibrator."

eric raises his brows, caging you between his arms as he corners you further, chest on yours and his lips right above your lashes.

"perhaps a-"

"it's not a dildo either."

he pouts in slight disappointment when he can hear the stark honesty in your voice.

his chest rises and lowers under his shirt, listening to your breathing that hitches in your throat every now and then; observing your discipline to keep your eyes away from him.

"you're not gonna tell me what it is?"

glaring at him through the corner of your eye, you shake your head with a resounding 'no'.

he pauses.

then he leans into your ear.

"you being scared is just making me a little more curious, princess."

"curiosity kills the cat."

eric pulls away and slides his arms off the wall. "cats have 9 lives."

the number of sirens that go off in your head spikes, and before you can process his words, he grabs your arm and pulls you onto his shoulder.

"oh my god!" his arm wraps around your lower back, knees against his chest and the world from your eyes upside down as he hoists you up the stairs. "put me down, jesus christ!"

"the more you yell, the more you're gonna regret it, princess," he warns while chuckling to himself. "what could it be, if it's not a dildo or a vibrator?"

then the warmth of his palm reaches up to your shorts, and his fingers dig under the cloth of your underwear.

"fuck, eric-"

all too easily, he pushes a finger into you, your entire body cringing from the sudden intrusion. your eyes blur out just as he makes it to the second floor, and he doesn't need to ask which door he should be heading to.

not when your door has a framed portrait of yourself from last year's concert.

the door creaks open when he pushes the two of you into your room, greeting the sunlight drawn across the floor and his finger still buried inside you.

you heave a sigh when he pulls his finger out and shoves it into his mouth, leaning over your bed to rest you into the cushion.

automatically, his eyes are on high alert, scanning your room. but by the time you've regained your senses and the blood's returned to the rest of your body from your head, he finds it.

resting on the back of your forearms, your breath turns shakey and your eyes twitching from the sight of it dangling off his fingers.

eric turns to look at the mirror, turning the item in his fingers to match the painting of it on the edges.

"so," he returns to you, raising a cocky brow and smirking. "you get high off painting handcuffs on your mirror?"

you tightly shut your eyes as the frown cements into your forehead.

"fuck."

eric scoffs, tongue dragging across his upper lip as he walks towards you and lifts a knee to your bed, the other following.

"this really makes me question how you even got your reputation," eric jingles it from his fingers, his free hand reaching down to draw circles on your right ankle.

"it's just acrylic paint. i paint something new every month-"

"and so your choice for november was... handcuffs?" he wraps his hot fingers around your ankle and yanks you downwards, your crotch nearly meeting his knees.

"it's not my fault you decided to play this game the month i decided to get something remotely inappropriate."

"'remotely inappropriate'," eric repeats, smiling as he lowers himself. the handcuff still within his right hand, his left draws trails up your right leg, playing with the rim of your shorts where they were already riled up enough to expose a bit of your underwear. "so, tell me princess. why did you choose this-"

he holds it up and jingles it over your nose. "to paint?"

"surely it's not because it's pretty."

"or maybe you think it'll look pretty around your wrists?"

eric reaches for your hands and you struggle upon instinct, he pins your dominant hand down first and clips the first cuff around your wrist.

"eric-"

he finds your free hand and connects both your wrists, clipping the other cuff despite your struggling.

eric sucks a deep breath, then parts his lips to exhale. pushing himself off you, he pulls your shorts off first, eyes trailing across every inch of your body with your wrists cuffed together.

the thoughts wash through you involuntarily.

the wooden planks. the dress. the torn underwear.

the mirror. the fogging. the skirt.

the tears collect in the corners of your eyes even before he can completely get it off your ankles.

then he pulls your legs apart for him to lock them in place with his own thighs, crouching over your body like a lion devouring his prey.

he pushes your arms up and above your head, making it difficult for you to bring them back down with your wrists bound together.

his breath is hot on your chest where he first dips his nose into, tongue swiping across the skin of your heaving ribs. hands coming up your waist and pushing them up your torso, it exposes your ribcage and bra.

inch by inch, he breaths down the length of your torso, from your chest and over to your stomach with your camisole rolled up messily over your bra.

upon reaching the rim of your underwear (and heaving stomach as you pant and huff in a bid to calm your nerves), he stops and looks up at you.

"thank god you rejected wooseok."

then both his hands come down to your chest to rip apart your camisole, pulling it out from under you before he unbuckles your bra.

you swallow the first whimper already on the tip of your tongue, but your stomach plunges and your back arches violently when he takes the tip of your breast between his lips.

left hand coming round to grip your other, his right travels down to play with your sensitivity, forcing your body into subtle jolts with the overwhelming sensation.

he tugs on your tip, grazing it between his teeth before releasing it and latching his lips onto the tender flesh in a bid to make his mark.

your brows finally furrow into a frown of bliss, jaw hung agape though struggling to contain the lewd noises prancing about in the back of your throat.

he rolls the other tip between his index finger and thumb, sucking and kissing the reddening flesh of your chest.

and down below, he's pushed your underwear aside, thumb abusing your sensitivity and buckling your hips upwards.

he provides you one sharp bite on your tip, earning a strained hiss from between your teeth. it feeds his pride, for he removes himself off you completely and stares down at you, admiring the painting he's made on your chest.

hickeys.

grip marks.

and the wet patch on your underwear between your legs.

he turns and shifts off the bed, leaving you to catch your breath and cross your legs over one another.

the clacking about in your studio corner drives the tears into your eyes, listening to the lid of the box where you keep your paint come off.

you shut your eyes, resigning to fate.

for your body is in burning need and the discipline to go against his word has betrayed you.

you hear his belt come undone, the weight of his clothes hitting the carpeted ground before the mattress around your legs sink again.

"oh... princess~" he sings, coaxing you out of your mental begging that this was just a nightmare.

a corner drags across your stomach, and your eyes fly open to see his fingers wrapped around a bottle of acrylic paint, completely oblivious to him pulling your underwear off your legs.

black.

the only color that was still relatively abundant.

then the sight of his nudity drives you up a wall inside your head; better yet, driving your resignation up against your own skull.

the lines of his pelvic bone leading down to his manhood all for your eyes to feast on, and even if you wanted to look away, you couldn't.

fuck.

"listen to me very carefully, princess..." he shakes the bottle, then proceeds to unscrew the cap. "I'm sure you don't want any of these on your bed, right?"

chills run through your body when he tilts the bottle over, squeezing the paint onto his palms.

"so," he blinks back to you, eyes wide and cautious. "my advice?"

and with that, he carefully caps the bottle, effortlessly tossing it over his shoulder and back into the box.

he presses his palms together, spreading the paint across his skin.

"don't move too much."

with a wide grin, he smudges the paint into your thighs and up your stomach, sliding the paint all the way to your breasts where he offers a harsh grip.

he doesn't give you a chance to respond to that before he slides himself into you, your neediness allowing him entrance far too easily.

by now, your body was somewhat conditioned to recognise his size, but the idea of him buried deep inside you and his groaning coating the room makes you a little more feral; a little more insane.

the whimper that runs off your tongue is mercilessly lapped up by him when he leans over to kiss you, tongue shoved into your mouth in a bid to shut you up.

he rolls his hips back and forth, unwilling to stop and definitely unwilling to give you any kind of mercy when it comes to making you lose your grip on reality.

he pulls away and resumes an upright position, abs flexed and his palms still gripping onto your chest like his life depended on it.

but eric seems to be a little on edge himself, for this was his first time seeing all of you under him, instead of your humility covered by a dress or a skirt and worrying about being caught in school.

no.

now, he can feast his eyes on you like the predator he is.

not only does he decide to leave his own marks, but marks that you gave him access to.

his handprints are black on your skin and the entire bed is jerking along with every thrust he's offering you.

you finally let out a strained cry, tears collecting in your eyes with the bliss rushing through you over and over again like a broken record. eric's breath turns shaky, and his grip on you begins to loosen when his thighs start to convulse.

by some miracle, the last thrust hits your climax and he pulls out almost immediately after to coat the paint on your stomach with himself.

cream on black.

eric huffs arrogantly, taking deep breaths to retain his breathing as he releases you, stepping back to take in the sight of you in your own bed, ruined by him.

"you definitely look pretty in cuffs."

#nevertheless: wishful thinking #eric smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #eric sohn smut #eric scenarios #eric imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #eric x reader #eric sohn x reader #the boyz x reader #this was too filthy

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Eight - A.R.

LAST OF THE SERIES

Word count: Summary: 5 years later...

-

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MURDER AND SEXUAL ASSAULT (basically everything Arvin and the preacher did in the movie is touched on).

-

5 years later

"Well, y/n, your application is outstanding. We'd love for you to work here." The headteacher spoke to me from across his desk.

"Really? Wow! Thank you so much!" I beamed.

"The new school term starts in August and the kids really need a well-taught, professional, young teacher who can help them grow as children. I think you're perfect for the job."

"Thank you so much, that means a lot. I can't wait to start."

Teaching. Teaching year 1. It was my dream to work with kids and now finally after 4 years of college I could do it.

I've been living in Cincinnati since I left high school 5 years ago. I needed to get out of that town as soon as I could. Everywhere I went it would remind me of Lenora...and Arvin.

I kept in touch with Emma, though. We still chatted at least a few times a month on the phone and she told me every time how much she missed Lenora and how much she missed Arvin. Though it was easier with Lenora because she knew what had happened to her - well, not fully - but she knew that she was gone. With Arvin, she didn't know why he was gone, what he was doing or had done and if he was still even alive. I didn't tell her about what Arvin told me on our last night. I promised him I wouldn't.

But every time I called her it was like I was being set back on my journey of grief and getting over him. I was with a lovely guy called William and we've been together since my last year of college. He didn't know about Lenora or Arvin or the Russell's.

But he did come with me to my father's funeral a few months ago.

Daddy had gotten worse and worse since being in New Coal Creek. We thought he was going to get better once we got him into hospital but it didn't make a difference. And when I moved to Cincinnati, I hardly ever saw him and Ma and I's row got in between Daddy and I's relationship.

So I went to his funeral feeling like the worst daughter on the planet. And I felt as if I was losing everyone I had ever truly loved.

Will was lovely and he worked in the same position Daddy used to work at. We had a house together and we lived there comfortably. It's much like how I grew up living. A big house with no one to fill it with. We didn't even have a dog or a cat because of his allergies. We were engaged to be married and he had bought me a very expensive and big diamond ring which was nice but I had no interest in.

Of course, I accepted. But as soon as he asked me the million dollar question, the first person that popped into my head was Arvin. And then Lenora. And then Daddy.

Wedding planning was very stressful when you don't have many friends or family around to help.

And after my meeting with the headteacher I was heading into town to find my wedding dress.

I was dreading it.

Ma was coming down to help and we'd meet at the place.

I thanked the headteacher and walked out excitedly, ready to start my teaching career. I got in my car and I drove into town. The closer I got, the worse I felt. I didn't want to get a wedding dress and I didn't want to get it with Ma either.

I parked outside of the dress shop and reluctantly got out. The shop was extravagant and elegant. I dreaded going inside. But my feet took me in as my brain lusted for home.

"y/n!" Ma exclaimed, shuffling up to me, already carrying dresses in her arms.

"Ma, hi." She nearly winded me as she embraced me.

I lightly put my hands around her but she tore away quickly.

"This place is just wonderful! I've already found a few you'd look great in!"

"Ma, I'd love if I was the one who would get to pick out my own weddin' dress." I raised a brow.

She sighed, "Fine. Yes, of course. Go into the changin' rooms and I'll follow."

I rolled my eyes and walked to one of the rooms where a consultant with a pearly white smile greeted me.

"Miss y/l/n, lovely to meet you. I'm Angela and I'll be helpin' you today! Are these the dresses you'd like to try?" She chirped, referring to the dresses in my mothers arms.

I sighed, "Yes."

"Great! Come on in."

-

I stood on the podium in front of the wall-length mirror with the fourth wedding dress on. It was a column dress that fell straight down with only a slight cinch at the waist. It had long sleeves and a high neck and lace covered the bodice. It was not my style.

"You look beautiful!" Ma complimented.

"I don't like it, Ma." I shook my head, twisting and turning to look at it.

"It's your fourth dress and you haven't liked any of them."

"They're just...not my style." I sighed.

Ma rolled her eyes and stood next to me, "It's not about your style. It's about looking gorgeous on your wedding day."

I furrowed my brows, "It's my wedding dress and it's my wedding. I want to love my dress."

"Well you are not the one paying for it." She brushed over my hips.

I felt rage bubble inside of me.

"Fine. We'll take this one then." I stated with a scoff and returned to the changing room in a huff.

-

"Okay, your fitting will be next month and that's when you'll get your dress home, alright?"

"Thank you." I smiled weakly at the consultant.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day!"

We waved goodbye and began walking out the shop. I placed my white gloves on and adjusted the white hat ornamented with a flower on my curled hair. I smoothed out my white and pale blue polka-dotted dress and adjusted the sky blue belt around my waist. Ma opened the door for me and I thanked her before leaving and hearing the click of my heels on the ground.

"y/n, I won't keep you long, but...you're a woman now. You're 23, you're getting married, you live away from home, you're getting a job. You're a woman. But just because you are older, does not mean I stop being your mother. I will always be your mother whether you like it or not and you have to treat me as such." Ma said, folding her arms over her red, floral tea dress.

I took a deep breath and looked at her.

"You took away my freedom when I was a teenager and because of that, I lost time with - not only Lenora - but Arvin, too. I don't know where he is now. No one does."

Just as I was about to talk about our last night I remembered she still didn't know I snuck out.

"I lost my best friend and the love of my life in the space of weeks and you kept me locked away until there was no one left. I'll never forgive you for that." I said, my head held high.

Ma took a few seconds to process the information and then nodded.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I had no idea. I love you, y/n. I will always love you, alright?" She held my shoulders.

I swallowed and nodded, not looking at her.

"Congratulations on your new job, honey. I'll see you soon." She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek then turned and walked away.

I took a few deep breaths as I watched her, guilt and anger washing away gradually. Part of me didn't want to go home. I wanted to escape for a while. I didn't want to have to go back and sit alone in a huge house I didn't like and I didn't want to wait up for a phone call from Will. I wanted to be by myself. I needed to. I looked around and at my car before deciding I'd go into town for a while.

I left the car and stuffed the keys further into my handbag. I clicked down the pavement until I reached the main road of shops, leading to a lake and a park where families would walk and eat ice-cream.

It was summer, so the sun was out in full, the trees swaying in the warm breeze and the sound of a few buskers playing accompanied by the noise of town people roaming around filled the warm air.

I smiled and said good mornin' to people as I walked by, waving at a few kids and cooing at some babies. I'd never really spent much time in town. I was always working or at the house with Will. It felt good to be out and alone. I wandered around, looking in some shop windows and wishing for the dresses but deciding against it.

It wasn't until I passed a shop and briefly glanced in it that I actually stopped to look closely. I took a double take and stood in front of the window, looking up at the displayed mannequin. It was a white blouse paired with a white tennis skirt and blue ribbon tied around the neck. A fond grin grew on my face. It reminded me of high school. Though I never wore mine on my neck, I still wanted it. I never wore ribbons in my hair anymore.

I couldn't help myself but go in. I entered the seemingly quiet shop and found the nearest shop consultant.

"Hi! I love that ribbon you have on show, is it for sale?" I asked with a smile.

The woman looked almost confused, "It's a ribbon...it's for decoration?"

"Oh...well, I'd still love to buy it. Name a price." I smiled again.

She looked at me dumbfounded for a moment but then shook it off and walked to the mannequin. She untied the silk and walked back over with it, placing it into my hands.

"It's free." She smiled.

"Thank you so much. I love it." I grinned.

"Have a nice day, now."

"I will." I beamed, walking out the store.

I felt giddy with nostalgia and excitement as I pulled my hair back under my hat and tied it with the ribbon, giving it a delicate bow. I checked it in my compact mirror and smiled with joy. I felt closer to myself.

I continued walking down the road and then to the lake. I stood and leaned against the railing, watching the elegant swans float by, their white feathers contrasting beautifully against the dark blue of the water. I watched them for a while, probably for about 10 minutes before I felt a light tug on my dress.

I got a fright and looked down where a young girl was standing next to me. I immediately smiled with relief and stood back.

"Hello," I waved.

"You're very beautiful, ma'am." She complimented in a strong southern accent.

"Why thank you, Mrs." I grinned.

"Would you like some bread to feed the swans?" She offered, holding up a chunk of bread.

"I would love some. Thank you." I graciously accepted the bread, holding it in my gloved hands.

The girls' mother called her back. She looked up at me and waved.

"Bye!" She said, before running off to her mum.

I smiled and laughed a little before turning back to the swans. I broke a piece of bread off and threw it in the water. I threw some more pieces in and watched as they all swam to the food, fighting over who got what.

Once I was out of bread, I sighed, leaning against the railing by my forearms. I took in my surroundings. I looked to my left where children were playing with each other as parents stood or sat on benches, resting. A few elderly couples walked by, hand in hand, arm in arm, chatting about everything and nothing.

A girl on a pink bike caught my eye. She was gorgeous and sat atop the seat with joy and pride as she rode by. My eyes followed her as she rode behind me and kept going.

But my eyes shifted focus when she rode by someone.

Someone who looked eerily familiar.

He had brown, woven, checkered trousers on and a white dress shirt with sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows. Brown suspenders hung over his shoulders and a white vest peeked out from the unbuttoned shirt.

But the dark eyes with the brown, slicked back hair and the cigarette in his mouth gave him away.

He was already looking at me, however. Like he had been for hours. I turned slightly, feeling my heart beat rise as he threw his cigarette on the ground.

It can't be him. It's just a lookalike. It's because I've been thinking about him today. It's not him. He's not here.

He walked closer to me but stopped about 2 metres away, hands in pockets with his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine.

I could feel my chest heave against my dress as I stared at him, trying to decipher if that was truly him or if I was just dreaming.

"y/n?" He finally said, unsure of whether I was who he thought I was.

"A-Arvin?" I whispered.

A smile began to grow on his face and I knew it was him. It was him. Arvin.

I dropped my handbag and ran towards him, throwing my arms around his neck a our bodies collided, nearly setting us back.

His arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me up, making my legs pop up. He still smelled the same and he still felt the same. He felt like home.

"I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling a tear fall down my face.

He placed me back on my feet and I looked at him, cupping his face with my hands. He held them, stroking my thumbs with a smile.

"Why are you here?" He asked softly.

"I-I live here. I have since...since high school." I gulped.

He raised his brows, "I've been here for four years, y/n."

My mouth dropped open, "What?!"

He grinned, his hands squeezing mine, "We've both been livin' here for four years but not ran into each other."

I stuttered, "Wh-what? How is that- oh my gosh." I laughed, bringing my hands away from his face.

"I can't believe you're here, Arvin." I gulped, my chin quivering slightly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying in public.

"Hey, shh." He brought me into him, cradling my head against his chest.

"We're here. I'm here." He said softly.

-

We decided to walk around the park to catch up which seemed both amazing but alien at the same time. We were still us but we had changed so much.

"Still wearin' ribbons I see." He grinned.

I laughed, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. I always loved them." He smiled.

I blushed and looked to the ground.

"So, why Cincinnati?" Arvin asked.

I sighed, "I couldn't live there anymore after school." I gulped.

"It was just too hard. And I got accepted into college here so I decided to move."

"You'll be finished school now, right?" Arvin queried.

"Yeah. I just finished and I actually just got a job today, so." I smiled.

"That's amazin'. I'm happy for you." He grinned.

"Thank you..."

We walked in silence for a little longer than I would have hoped. But he broke it again.

"Why're you in town today, then? Considering I spend every day here and I've never seen you leads me to believe you don't come here often." He chuckled.

I nodded, "Yeah, I never get the chance too. But I was uh...I was actually in town for a dress fitting." I coughed, looking down at the floor.

"Goin' somewhere nice?" He asked.

I scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, "My wedding."

He stared at me in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open, soaking in the information.

"Y-you're engaged?" He croaked.

I nodded, removing my left glove to show the sturdy ring that sat on my finger.

"W-wow. I mean...he must be rich if you got a ring like that." He swallowed, looking down at his shoes.

"I mean...yeah, I guess." I shrugged awkwardly, putting the glove back on.

"How long have you been-"

"Uh, since last year. We met in college. He was doin' finance and Daddy actually put in a good word for him and he got his old job."

"He got your daddy's old job?" Arvin repeated.

"Yeah...yeah once uh...once he passed, they needed someone to fill his shoes so." I gulped.

Arvin stopped, "Your Dad passed? When?"

I chewed the inside of my lip, "Earlier this year."

"y/n, I am so, so sorry." He placed a hand on my arm.

"No, don't be silly. It's fine. He just never got well after he took a turn in Coal Creek." I said, beginning to walk again.

"I remember how sick he was..."

My chest fluttered. It was as if our past was an alternate universe. Like we never really lived it. It was just a different version of ourselves that did. Because now, we were here and it didn't feel the same. Not completely.

"So...should I ask how you ended up here?" I asked cautiously.

He tilted his head from side to side as if trying to figure an answer out himself.

"I don't think you'd like the details." He stated, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Did you..." I stopped, looking around us before lowering my voice.

"Did you do what you implied you would?" I asked, looking into his seemingly innocent eyes.

He inhaled some smoke and then exhaled, turning away for my sake.

"I did what I implied." He stated simply.

My stomach turned. I kept chewing my lip with nervousness, looking into his eyes. He didn't seem like a killer. He wasn't a bad person. I knew him. I knew who he was. And a murderer was not in his description.

I wanted to know about it. About him. I needed to know. So, impulsively - a word I hadn't used since our last night in Coal Creek - I invited him back with me.

"Would you come home with me? I live 15 minutes out of town and I'd really like to talk but I don't think a public park is appropriate." I said in a hushed tone.

He thought about it before nodding, "Sure."

-

The drive to my house was a little awkward. The radio played at a low hum while we sat in near silence, only the sound of the wind and other cars passing by filling the air.

"Used to be me drivin' you everywhere." Arvin commented with a chuckle.

I smiled, "Oh, how the tables have turned."

He laughed and so did I, then we resumed our mutual silence.

When we got to Will and I's estate, I drove through the gates of the house to the driveway where at the top, a large house sat - much like the one in Coal Creek.

"Our drivin' might've changed but this certainly hasn't." Arvin sighed, almost as if he was disappointed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged, "Feels all too familiar, that's all." He said before getting out the car.

I screwed my face up at his comment but decided to let it slide. I got out of the car and locked it before following Arvin who seemed as if he knew the place, up the steps of the porch.

"Is your fiancé home?" He asked the ground, hands in pockets.

I shook my head, "He's out of town for a weekend with work."

I stuck the key into the lock of the wide, white front door and opened it. I walked inside then held it open for Arvin.

He walked in and looked around, taking in his new surroundings.

The hallway was wide and white, only paintings filling the wall space and a large staircase to the left winded up to the next floor.

"Wow...I mean, you've done well for yourself." Arvin scoffed a laugh.

"Thank you." I smiled weakly, taking my hat from my head.

He looked up at the high ceilings, appreciating the chandelier that hung above the doorway.

"Come on through. Do you want tea? Coffee?" I offered, walking down the hallway and into the open kitchen/living room area while taking my gloves off.

He walked in behind me, looking around the new room he was in before following me into the kitchen.

"How about a scotch?" He asked with a smirk.

I smiled, "That'd be appropriate, I think."

I got the crystal decanter and two glasses from the tray that sat atop the kitchen table. I poured us two glasses and then handed Arvin one. I brought the decanter with us as we migrated to the couch.

I slipped my heels off before sitting down, my dress puffing and fanning out over my lap. Arvin sat opposite me, his ankle resting on his knee comfortably.

"So..." I started.

"So." He repeated.

"I think I might have more questions about you than you do about me." I smiled weakly.

He nodded, "Probably right."

I took a deep breath before asking any questions.

"Who got Lenora pregnant?" I asked.

I thought that would be a good starting point. It was what started everything.

"Reverend Teagardin. The new preacher that came to town." Arvin answered.

My eyes widened, "What?!"

"He took Lenora - and other girls - into the woods," Arvin began to explain.

He stared at the crystal in his hands and the liquid floating inside of it. He didn't once look up at me.

"He'd make them pray before they got started and he'd take advantage of them."

"Didn't he have-"

"A wife? Yeah. But he was abusin' her at home, too." He gulped.

"Oh my god. That's horrible." I sighed, my stomach feeling uneasy.

He finally looked up at me and I could feel his curiosity burn into me.

"Do you...do you still talk to Grandma?" He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

I smiled and nodded, "Yeah. I talked to her last week."

A slight smile grew on his face with relief, "How is she?"

"She's okay. She always talks about you and Lenora. Mostly you now, though. I mean, I never told her a thing about our last night and she still doesn't know about Lenora's pregnancy. She knows just as much as when you left."

He licked his teeth and nodded, "Thanks for keepin' in touch."

"Of course. I said I would, didn't I?" I grinned.

He nodded with a smile.

"So how about you? Livin' here in this big house with a big-shot fiance. Must be nice." He quirked his brow, taking a sip of his drink.

He was trying to pry something out of me, I could feel it.

"It's good. He takes care of me and we're happy." I stated.

"It's not boring?"

"No." I lied.

He tilted his head, "I can tell when you're lyin', y/n."

I scoffed, "You haven't seen me in five years and you think you can just come back here and tell me you know me so well? Don't start with that bullshit, Arvin."

He furrowed his brows, "Are you mad at me? What did I do?"

I rolled my eyes, "You don't know me, Arvin. So don't act like you do."

I sat my glass down and swiftly stood up from the couch. He did the same.

"I might not have seen you in years but I think I know you better than anyone on this planet. Am I right?" He asked, watching as I paced up and down in front of him.

I scoffed and shook my head.

"You're tellin' me that this guy- this guy - knows you better than I do?" Arvin lifted a picture of Will and I up to demonstrate.

"Yes. He does."

"Bullshit." He spat.

"You don't get to say shit like that Arvin. You know why?" I challenged, standing close to him with my hands on my hips.

"Why?" He retorted.

"Because you left! You left to murder someone! You'd have rather been a killer livin' with guilt for the rest of your life than to be with me." I shouted.

I didn't notice how close we were until he laughed and I could feel his familiar breath on my face.

"I had to do it. That preacher was no good. And neither was that cops sister and her dirt-bag husband." He snapped.

I blinked at him in confusion.

"Wh-what do you mean the cops sister and her husband?" I asked in a soft tone.

He looked away from me and gulped.

I gasped and held my hands over my mouth, "Did- did you-"

He grabbed and held my hands, "They were gonna kill me, y/n. They would take hitchhikers and murder them to take pictures with their dead bodies. I wasn't about to be the next one."

I widened my eyes, "They did what?!"

"And then I got caught out by the cop...his sister was the wife. He followed me to Knockemstiff and tried to shoot me with a shot gun. I had to, y/n. He was gonna kill me I-"

I could see the tears and the panic in his eyes. I just reached my hands up and wrapped them around his shoulders, bringing him into my arms. His face went into my neck and I could feel tears drip onto my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair.

"I'm a bad person, y/n. I killed four people..." He sniffed.

"Arvin, look at me." I tugged him from my neck and cupped his cheeks.

"You are not a bad person. You were just caught up in some twisted shit and you had no other way. You are a good person, Arvin." I said sincerely, feeling tears spring into my own eyes.

"I lost you because of it, though I just- I can't-" He cried.

"I know." I sniffled, feeling a tear drip down my face.

I looked at him; teary, eyes swollen and red, complexion pale. I didn't know what else to do.

"You're a good person, Arvin." I said again, leaning up on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

He hummed at my touch and I kissed his other cheek, "You did nothin' wrong."

I went back to his right cheek and kissed it again like I needed to feel his skin on my lips once more.

Just as I went to kiss his other cheek, he leaned forward and caught my lips with his instead.

I gasped, pulling away from his body and looking at him, touching my fingers over my lips.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're an engaged woman and I-"

I launched forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and crashing my lips to his. It took a second to make sure it was real. But as his hands slid effortlessly onto my waist, I knew.

"You're the love of my life, Arvin. You always have been and always will be." I whispered, pulling away briefly.

He stared into my eyes but didn't say a word. But I knew what he was thinking. He kissed me again, our lips moved over each other's with fervour and passion, the excitement and thrill of tasting each other again for the first time in years. In too long. He felt and tasted the same but more mature and wiser.

He pushed me back by my waist until my back hit the wall. I let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. He smirked against my lips before devouring me again. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth and I hummed, fully tasting him. My fingers ran through and tugged at his hair, and his hands ran up and down my sides and my back.

His touch felt nostalgic but euphoric and in the heat of the moment, everything was perfect.

"Your lips taste amazing," He said breathlessly between sloppy kisses.

"So do yours." I replied.

He wrapped his hands around my back and skilfully unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor in a pool around my ankles. I brought my hands to his shoulders as our kiss got heavier, teasing his suspenders before sliding them off his arms. I began unbuttoning his shirt in a hurried fashion as his lips started trailing down my jaw to my neck. I was finally able to push the fabric from his shoulders and then pulling his vest over his head.

And as his hands came down to my thighs to lift me up and around his torso, and as he carried me up and into my bedroom; I knew that he was it. He was the person I was destined to be with. He was the love of my life.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

5 years later

(Play ‘That Old Feeling’ by Doris Day now)

I placed the needle carefully onto the record and turned it up.

I walked through the house and got to the porch where I looked out and saw Arvin and Jack playing catch. I stood with a grin as my husband and 4 year old played enthusiastically - the old baseball still intact and very much in use.

I crouched down and placed the 2 year old who rested on my hip, onto the ground. She wobbled slightly but quickly got up and running. She made her way to the stairs which I quickly intervened and grabbed her hand to help her down onto the soil.

"Go get Daddy, Charlotte. Go!" I laughed, pointing to Arvin.

She squealed happily and ran towards her Dad, arms flailing clumsily as she sprinted. Arvin stopped the game of catch briefly as he saw his daughter coming towards him.

"Hey princess!" He grinned, crouching to his knees and grabbing his daughter.

He lifted her up and sat her on his knee, handing her the ball.

"Throw the ball to Jack, Charlotte!" Arvin prompted, pointing to the blonde haired boy who stood confidently.

She babbled a few words and then threw the ball onto the ground. At least she attempted. I whooped and clapped as I walked over.

"Good job, baby!" I praised in a baby voice.

Arvin stood up, letting Charlotte run around with her brother for a while, the dog joining them, enthusiastically bounding around them.

"Hey, handsome." I grinned as I reached Arvin.

"Hey, beautiful." He smiled.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me, tongue briefly slipping into my mouth. I hummed in surprise and pulled away.

"Careful, Arvin or you'll be makin' another one of those tonight." I giggled.

We stood side by side, an arm wrapped around each other's back as we watched Jack attempt to play catch with his sister.

"Why don't we make another one, then?" Arvin suggested.

I looked at him with raised brows, "If you want to push one out of your ass, then by all means let's do it."

He chuckled, "I'm serious, y/n."

I turned to face him and he wrapped his arms around my waist while I played with the bottom of his hair.

"Another baby girl or boy? With a dog?" I laughed.

"Yeah...I mean it's crazy but it's our crazy." He smirked.

"Hmm, depends how nice you treat me tonight." I bit my lip.

He held back a shit-eating grin, "Oh...you're so gettin' knocked up tonight."

I gasped, smacking his chest with a laugh.

"I love you." He smiled.

"I love you, too."

"Forever?" He quipped.

"And ever." I smiled.

And we meant it.

-

A/N: oh my god. that's the mini-series done! i loved writing for Arvin it was fun with the southern dialogue and the 60s time period! i hope you all enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing. If you'd like to request any one shots, head over to my instagram @tomholland1510 to request!

ALSO!! bonus points to anyone who understands the easter eggs in the kids' names! do they seem familiar? ;)

-

{Tags: @notandordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​}

#arvin russel #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mini series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #arvin russel fic #one shot #imagine #tom holland imagine #arvin russel imagine

[kireimarkeu]

We Got Married; s.jh

Heyyy guys! hahaha its been a while. i decided to make a blog again so i can post my old works. so here’s one of them. i’ll upload the rest soon :) i hope everyone is staying healthy and well :)

summary; where you and johnny join a tv show as husband and wife

4k..words…

a/n: i worked on this non stop ;; i think it would total up to 5 hours, maybe more ;;;hhhh 

also a little note, italics means that the emcees are saying while watching the video… and the bold+italics means that the both of you are in an interview, and the person is asking you questions! hopefully that isn’t too confusing (:

warnings: mentions of starvation & pregnancy

+Episode 1

“Hi, I’m NCT127’s Johnny,” Johnny introduced himself. 

“Hello, I’m y/n, Johnny’s wife,” you smile.

“How long have the both of you been married?”

Johnny looks at you for a little while, before facing back at the camera “almost 5 months?”

“How did you know each other?”

You laugh at the question, “I was one of Red Velvet’s stylist, actually. And all SM artists were having a concert, and while I was rushing to find the right room, Johnny was there standing outside his room, on his knees with his arms up,”

Johnny groaned, “that was so embarrassing,”

“And I just saw him there, and everyone was busy, so I had no choice but to ask him for help. And when I reached Red Velvet’s room, he asked me for my number,”

“How long did you date before getting married?”

“We dated for a while actually,” Johnny started. 

“8 years,” you continued. 

“Who proposed first?”

You pointed at your husband.

“Me of course,” laugh Johnny. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Babyyy~” Johnny whined, stretching his arms to pull you against his chest. You grumbled, hiding your face in his chest as you went back to sleep. 

“Oh? We didn’t know Johnny was a very affectionate person.”

“Wake up, babe,” he whispers against your hair. 

You ignore your husband’s words, tightening your grip against his waist. Johnny pressed kisses on your head, forehead and temple, waiting for you to get up. 

You let out a soft sigh, fluttering your eyes open. You looked up at your lover with a pout, upset that he woke you up. 

“Good morning, baby,” he mumbles against your ear, but the mic picked it up. The emcees cooed at the affection. 

“Kiss?” Johnny asks, leaning down to reach your lips but you move away from his face. 

You giggle at your husband when he clutched his heart, feigning pain. You felt bad and pressed your small palms on his chest to push yourself up and kiss his cheek. 

“Ahh! They’re so cute!!” the emcees cooed.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, getting out of bed, pulling Johnny with you. 

“Let’s make breakfast!”

Johnny could only smile at you dumbly, following you to the kitchen. 

You pressed your back against the counter as you looked up at Johnny with a flirty smile, “what should we make, John?”

Johnny felt like his heart would combust. If only there weren’t any cameras placed in his house, he would’ve kissed the hell out of you. 

“Pancakes?” he suggests. 

You nodded, turning around to open the cabinet above you to grab the pancake mix. You tip-toed, trying your hardest to reach for the box, but it was hard- especially when Johnny would purposely place everything on the highest shelf. 

You didn’t bother asking Johnny for help, knowing he enjoys watching you suffer, finding it cute. You also know that he would end up pressing against your back, reaching the box of pancakes mix for you. 

The emcees gasped when they saw your husband reach from behind, pressing his body against your back. They expect you to freeze on the spot with red cheeks, but they were met with you moving away from Johnny to slap his butt.

The emcees let out a disappointed sigh, “I guess y/n isn’t very affectionate?” they ask Johnny. 

“She usually is,” Johnny laughs, “but she’s cheeky too. It’s adorable.”

+Episode 5

The scene started with the both of you outside, holding hands quietly. 

“Okay, come on, break is over, let’s continue,” says your husband as he got ready to start running. 

You whine, letting go of your husband’s hand to run with him. You tried your best to match his pace, but you always end up a few meters behind him. 

He looked back at your tired form. You were slouching and had a pained expression on your face. A chuckle left his lips as he jogged on the spot, waiting for you to reach him. 

The emcees were curious, it seems like he was forcing you to exercise with him. 

“Ah,” Johnny laughs, “y/n has told me how she wants to lose weight,” he explains, “but her way of losing weight is really unhealthy, so I make her go on a run with me.”

“What was her way of losing weight?”

“She would starve herself for weeks in order to lose weight,” Johnny clarify. 

“Many of us do that,” they tell him. 

Johnny nodded, “It hurts me not to see her eating, at one point we got into a huge fight because she didn’t eat for 3 days straight. So, I made a promise with y/n.”

Once you reached your husband, you pressed the palms of your hands against your knees, panting heavily. “I hate this, I hate you.”

Johnny threw his head back as he laughed at you. His hand stroking your back comfortingly. 

“Just a little more, then we can get food,” he tells you. 

He waits for you until you were breathing normally. 

“Better?” he asks you, scanning your face. 

You shook your head, “no, I don’t wanna do this.”

Johnny sighs at your words, “we can stop now, but you can only get healthy food later.”

You jut your lips out, persuading your husband to give you a chance. 

Johnny stares at you with a straight face. 

“Just for today~,” you say cutely. When you notice Johnny wasn’t giving any reaction, you reach for his arm, tugging on his arm, letting out cute noises. “Today is our cheat day, please Johnny?” 

You pout, giving your best puppy eyes. You tiptoed to press a quick kiss on his lips, and that was when Johnny broke down and let out a groan. 

“You will be the death of me,”

The emcees let out a roar of laughter. 

The scene changed to the both of you in 7/11. 

You had a sandwich and ramen noddle in your hands. You reached out to grab a bottle of water while Johnny was trying to find his favourite snack. 

You walked up to the cashier to place the items down, waiting for Johnny to pay. The cashier suddenly spoke to you in Korean as you look up at them in surprise. 

“Ah,” you start. You bit your lip, unsure of what to reply. “I don’t speak Korean.”

“Oh, y/n doesn’t speak Korean?” the emcees ask Johnny, surprised since both of you were living in Korea.

Johnny shake his head, “she knows basic words, but it’s hard for her to speak in full sentences.”

You notice that the cashier doesn’t understand you either. 

Turning around, you call for your husband. Johnny’s head peeked out from the shelves.

“yeah?”

“Uh, I need help,” you say awkwardly. 

Your husband trudges towards you without hesitation. You watch as your husband converses in Korean with the cashier. He suddenly fishes out his wallet to pay for the food the both of you have bought. 

+Episode 9

The both of you were sitting on the floor, game controllers in hands, playing Fortnite. 

Truthfully, you weren’t very good in Fortnite, but your husband enjoys playing games so you would join him. 

A little yelp left your lips when you saw a character, near you. “oh my god, babe, save me!” you yell out, running away from the character who was trying to save you. 

Johnny didn’t respond to you, too focused on gaming.

“Johnny! Oh my god, help me!” 

One of your hand to leave the console to tap on your husband’s thigh. 

“Wait, wait, I’m still looting,” he tells you. 

“Nooooo,” you whine, “come save me— nevermind, I died.”

Johnny didn’t respond to whatever you said— it’s not like he heard you anyways. Your significant other continued playing the game without you. 

You sulk when your lover didn’t pay attention to you. You thought he would leave the game so the both of you could restart and play together.

You got up from your sitting position to go to the kitchen to make some coffee. 

Johnny quickly glanced at you when you left his side, then going back to the television that was still playing. 

Should he stop playing to comfort you? It would be a waste if he left the game since he was so close to winning. There was only 1 person left. He decided to continue playing until he won.

“Ah, why didn’t you comfort y/n?” asked the emcees, upset with his behaviour. Johnny could only laugh awkwardly.

When the words displayed ‘WINNER’ on the screen, Johnny immediately got up and ambled to you. 

“Babe,” he called, not getting any response for you. 

Johnny bit back a smile when he saw you stirring the cup of coffee. He walked up to you, his hands going to your waist. He was about to rest his chin on your shoulder, but you walked away from him to sit on the dining table.

“Is this a fight we’re about to witness?” the emcees ask. 

Johnny shook his head, “this happens all the time— whenever I would ignore y/n while I play a game,”

“Are you mad?” Johnny asks you, resting his butt on the dining table, knowing you hated it when he does that. 

He pouted when he didn’t get any reaction from you. 

“Babe, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “we can play again, I’ll save you this time,” he suggests, tugging on your hand. 

You look up to glare at him, “I don’t wanna play with you, you made me sad.”

Johnny wanted to giggle at how cute you were being. 

“What’s that?” he asks, stretching his body to see what was in the mug, “oh, coffee, can I have some?”

Before you could even answer, he was already reaching for your cup of coffee and drinking almost half of it.

“Johnny,” you whine, pulling his arm to stop him from finishing your drink. 

The emcees tilt their head, “you shouldn’t have done that, Johnny-ya”

“That was my drink,” you tell him angrily, snatching the mug from him when he pulled it away from his lips. He chuckle at you when you stood up, placing your cup in the sink before stomping into your shared room.

“Wait, why are you still smiling when you made your wife angry, Mr Suh?” the emcees interrupted the video.

The attention was on Johnny. He chuckles, “I just like messing with her, she just looked so adorable.”

“I wonder how this is going to go down.”

While you were sulking in the bedroom, Johnny decided to make food for you, just to make up to you. 

Leaving you alone for a few hours, he finally finished cooking. He placed your favourite food on a tray, bringing to the bedroom. When he entered the bedroom, you were laying on the bed with your phone in hand. 

When you heard Johnny come in, you turn to see him standing at the door with a tray filled with food, a cheeky smile plastered on his lips. 

“Dummy,” you mumble. 

Johnny walked up to you, placing the food on the white sheets. 

“Spill it and I’ll kill you,” you warn him, reaching out to grab the tray carefully.

+Episode 12

The scene started with the both of you walking into a blue building. Both of you started walking around the familiar place. 

“Ikea?”

You grabbed a toy monkey and showed your husband. 

“Can we get this?” you ask him, playing with the hands. 

He grimaced at you, “why would you need that when you have me?”

You clicked your tongue but placed the monkey back before skipping to your lover, wrapping your arms around his arm affectionately. 

“Aww, they are so cute!!” the emcees cooed.

Your husband suddenly stopped, looking at a shelf. 

“Is this the one you wanted?” you ask him, looking up at Johnny. Your heart beating faster just by looking at his side profile. 

He nodded, “I think it’s the right size?” 

“What if it’s the wrong length?” you ask him.

“Then I blame you,” he jokes. 

You roll your eyes at your husband. “should we get this, then?”

Johnny hummed, nodding his chin towards the cardboard, “help me get it, babe.”

You didn’t think much of it and agreed to take the shelf that was in the cardboard. You tiptoed, reaching for the box. You slowly pull out the long box, letting out a groan when you realised how heavy it is. 

“you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” the emcees asked. 

After a couple of episodes, the emcees seem to realise Johnny’s behaviour around you. 

Johnny nodded, letting out a laugh, “I like being there to help her, and tease her at the same time,”

“Johnny— help me,” you groan, pulling the box on your shoulder, thinking it would balance you. 

From behind, Johnny didn’t budge from his position. He was content on watching you cutely carry the huge box. But when he saw you almost drop the box, his eyes widen and quickly reach out to carry the box. 

You didn’t realise Johnny’s intention and pull away from the weight. You exhale, “that was heavy,” you say. 

“A little,” your husband shrug as if it was nothing. 

You noticed how his muscles flex and how he was letting out puffs of air. 

“Should I get a cart?” you ask him, feeling bad that he was carrying everything on his own. 

Johnny shook his head, “It’s fine, we’re near the cashier anyway.”

The video cut to the both of you queuing up for food. Johnny was standing behind you with the trolley. 

“What are you getting?” you ask him, your eyes not leaving the menu. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “maybe fish&chips?” 

“Okay,”

When it was your turn to order, Johnny started ordering multiple dishes, making you look up at him in surprise. Your hands pinch his waist a little, getting his attention. 

“Why did you order so much? We’re not going to finish all that!” You exclaim. 

Johnny didn’t answer you, instead, he grabbed the food and placed it on the tray. 

“I’ll finish it all, baby,” he scrunches his nose, before leaning down to quickly kiss your cheeks before finding a place to sit. 

+Episode 14

The scene started with both of you sleeping on your shared bed. You had your head rested on Johnny’s chest, while Johnny rests his cheek on the top of your head, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively.

The emcees noticed that you had your whole body covered with a blanket up to your nose. 

“Isn’t it hot?” they ask. 

“It was raining at night,” Johnny pointed out, “and y/n is really sensitive to the cold,”

Johnny was the first one to wake up. Fluttering his eyes open, he blinked multiple times before lifting his head, stretching his arms out to reach for his phone. 

“Ah, it’s almost 1pm,” Johnny mumbles to himself. 

“What?! Do you guys usually wake up that late?” the emcees asks him. 

Johnny shook his head, “one of our friends had a birthday party the day before and we reached home at about 4am,” he explains.

“4am?!”

He chuckles, “yeah. y/n and I are usually morning people, but that day, that day was just a lazy day,”

Putting his phone down, he let out a tired sigh. He laid on his back but kept one of his arms under your head for comfort. 

He was staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before tilting his head down to stare at you. 

The camera zoomed in to see him staring at you with a stupid smile on his face. His hand went up to stroke your head. He slowly leaned down to press a soft kiss on the crown of your head. 

The emcees started going crazy, some letting cooing, some letting out screams at how cute he was being. 

“You’re crazy for her! It’s adorable!” they all say. Johnny can only smile shyly. 

You finally woke up after napping for a while more. Your hands turning into fists to rub at your eyes tiredly. 

Johnny beams at you, “good morning.”

You only let out a whine, throwing your arms across his chest, hiding your face in his neck. 

Johnny let out a roar of laughter, his arms that were previously giving your support went up to stroke your back lovingly. 

“Come, let’s get up,” he says softly, his fingers reaching out to play with the ends of your hair. 

“I’m so tired,” you mumble against his neck, sighing. 

“I know, babe, but we can’t stay in bed all day,” he tells you. 

He was right, you couldn’t just stay in bed all day, it won’t be good content for the show you were in. 

The scene then cut to you sitting on the floor, in between your husband’s legs while Johnny was sitting on the couch, playing with your hair. 

The both of you were watching a Korean drama. It was quite intense, so the both of you did not say a word to each other. Both of your mouths were wide open as you focused on the show.

The emcees laughed at both your faces.

Johnny soon got bored and focused on braiding your hair. He didn’t realise that you had started crying because of the sad scene playing. 

“Oh, oh, isn’t she crying?” the emcees asked. 

“I didn’t realise,” he laughs awkwardly.

Johnny continued braiding your hair. He noticed how your shoulders started shaking and the sniffles coming from you. He let go of your hair and leaned down to your side to see tears streaming down your face. 

At first, he was confused. Why did you cry? Did he pull your hair too hard? Did he do something that made you unhappy?

It took him a while for him to realise the reason you were crying was because of the drama playing. He pulled away from you and started laughing at you. 

He got out from the couch to slide down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. 

“Aw, is my baby crying?” he said in a baby voice, stroking your head fondly. 

It took you a few moments for the tears to stop. You pout at your husband as he cups your face, “it was so sad.”

He pats your head, “I know, you’re a cry baby,”

+Episode 20

You were putting on make-up, getting ready for a special occasion. You stood up from the dressing table, showing off the elegant dress you were wearing. 

“Woah! y/n looks so pretty, what was the occasion?”

You grabbed a denim jacket that was laying on the bed, putting it on since it was cold outside. 

“Babe, are you ready?” you hear Johnny shout from the living room. 

You didn’t answer him, instead, you left the room, not forgetting to grab your bag along the way. When he saw you, he couldn’t help but admire you. 

He squealed like a little boy, “It feels like I fell in love with you all over again,”

You gave him a weird look before slapping his stomach, “shut up,”

You left to grab your heels, but Johnny stood in place, awestruck by your beauty. 

His hand covering his mouth as he shook his head, “I can’t believe I married the prettiest woman on earth!” he shouts, a grin forming on his face. 

You turn to look at your dumb husband, “stop being weird!!” you whine, “and put on your shoes, let’s go!!”

“y/n actually brought me out on a date,” Johnny explained. “We actually haven’t gone out on a date after we got married,”

“Woah, seriously?” they ask, “and it has been almost 8 months since you got married?”

Johnny nodded.

You had brought Johnny to your favourite Chinese restaurant. 

The both of you made small talk, and some point, Johnny had reached out for your hands from across the table, holding it lightly, he would stroke the back of your hand affectionately from time to time. 

When the food arrived, the both of you started digging in. 

“I’m so full,” you huff, rubbing your stomach. 

“Should we get the fortune cookie?” asked your husband. 

You nodded. 

Your heart felt like it was ready to combust, your palms started sweating at the thought of Johnny finally finding out the secret you were keeping. 

“Why does she look so nervous?”

Johnny grabbed the fortune cookie excitedly. He quickly cracked his open, reading out his fortune. 

He didn’t say it out loud, but you already knew what it said. 

“What does yours say?” you ask nervously. 

He frowns at the piece of paper. “Daddy,”

“Oh?” the emcees say, surprised.

His eyebrows furrowed at the weird fortune but quickly put it away, looking up at you with shining eyes. 

“What does yours say?” he asks you. 

You shrug, “I haven’t opened it yet,” you mumble softly. Your fingers crack open the cookie, taking out the piece of paper in the cookie. 

“Well? What does it say, babe?” he asks again excitedly. 

You gulp. “it says I’m pregnant.”

The emcees scream in happiness and in shock.

Johnny fell silent, “what?”

“It says I’m pregnant,” you repeat again. You felt nervous at his lack of reaction. 

He frowns, “this is not funny, y/n. what does it really say?”

You showed him the small piece of paper that you were holding. True enough, the paper did say ‘I’m pregnant’. 

He looked up at you then back at the paper, then back at you again. “what?” he whispers. 

“I’m pregnant,” you confess, “surprise?” you mutter awkwardly. 

“Is-is this a prank?”

You smile, shaking your head, “it’s not a prank, baby.”

“There was a reason why I actually brought him out for a real date,” you tell, looking straight in the camera. “we have been trying for a baby for a while now, and Johnny has been wanting to have one for a long time,” you explain, letting out a small laugh. 

“I went to the restaurant to request a personal fortune cookie and told them my plan and everything- thankfully they agreed!” you say.

“oh my god,” Johnny gasps, “r-really? This is not a joke?”

You crack up at your husband, “why would this be a joke?”

Johnny suddenly stood up, you stand up with him. He walks closer to you, holding your arms. 

“I love you so much right now,” was the last thing he said before he pressed his lips on yours. 

You couldn’t help but grin, resulting in him kissing your teeth instead. 

Johnny pull away, pouting at you, “how long?”

“3 weeks, you big baby,” your hands going up to squeeze his cheeks.

“I literally love you so much,” Johnny express, “you make me so happy, baby.”

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

You held Johnny hands tightly as the both of you look in the camera. 

“Were you surprised, Johnny?”

Johnny nodded, “very.”

You snort at his words. 

“I didn’t think much of it at first, then when y/n said she was pregnant, I thought it was a joke. But I’m so happy right now.”

“How long have you been pregnant right now?”

“A little more than 14 weeks!” you tell them, beaming at the camera. You stood up to show the little bump in your stomach. 

“Do you know the gender of the baby?”

You looked up at Johnny before looking back in the camera, “we wanted to keep it a surprise!”

“How do you feel right now, Johnny?”

He hum, “I think, like every other dad out there, I am excited. I can’t wait to meet my newborn and spend all my time with them,” 

Johnny reached out to stroke your belly. 

“However, we don’t want our child to be exposed to the world we live in,” Johnny continued. 

You nodded at your husband’s words, “A world where he or she will live with cameras everywhere,” you explain further. 

“So, we want to thank the cast of this show, and our fans who have shown endless support to both y/n and I,” Johnny says, “y/n and I have decided to leave the show and start focusing on us and our future child,”

“It’s a shame really,” you continued, “it was really fun filming for the show.”

Johnny nodded in agreement, “hopefully our fans can respect our decision and continue supporting us regardless.”

--END--

#johnny #johnny suh #johnny scenarios #johnny drabbles #johnny imagines #johnny angst #johnny fluff #johnny smut #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #wayv #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct angst #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fluff #nct127 scenarios

[egcdeath]

birthdays with the boys

in honor of my own birthday, today i’ll be sharing with you what i think your birthday with many cevans characters would be like. enjoy! <3

steve rogers

he leaves his mission early and unannounced so when you wake up to the smell of pancakes in your house, and a man with breakfast in bed you almost jump out of your skin buuut you couldn’t be happier to see him

breakfast in bed is just the start of your bday because he goes ALL. OUT. 

as you finish up eating, he grabs a folded piece of paper with a wax seal on it and hands it to you

he tells you to open it once he leaves, gives you a wink, then goes

he planed a birthday scavenger hunt for you!!!

for the rest of the day, you travel around the city to a bunch of important places in your relationship, like your fav dates n stuff

at the midway point of the hunt, he meets you for a coffee and makes sure you’re still enjoying everything before he sends you off with the avenger’s company card and basically tells you to get something nice before finishing the hunt hehe

you do in fact get yourself something nice

at the end of the hunt, you end up at the compound where all of your friends and teammates are and you have a very nice birthday party

by the time that you and steve go home, you’re exhausted but wanna spend a lil more time savoring your birthday so steve suggests that the two of you watch that one cheesy rom com that you love (and he hates)

as you cuddle on the couch, popping the occasionaly popcorn kernel in your mouth, you cant help but to feel grateful that you have such an amazing boyfriend

ransom drysdale

his birthdays were always disregarded when he grew up, so he has a very extravagant celebration planned for you

we all know that he can make a pretty airtight and elaborate plan so you literally have zero idea of what he’s got up his sleeve

enter: a whole birthday week

(he sweet talked your boss into some time off  so thats one whole thing you don’t have to worry about)

day one is a whole spa and a shopping day

he can’t stand some of your friends but he invites them anyway bc he knows it’ll make you happy

he’s glaring at your friends while they giggle about some new louis vuitton purse and you’re thoroughly amused by it

you give him extra kisses that night as a reward for not instigating any fights that day (awww bf of the year am i right ladies?)

day two you guys do a museum hop and look at lots of art

ransom rolls his eyes at canvases that have a few drops of paint on them and are called modern art, you think this is hilarious

day three you have a picnic together in a park

ransom knows you have an affinity for charcuterie boards and attempts to make you one himself (and it’s not all that bad), along with a bunch of dainty little sandwiches

later that day, you go to a planetarium together

on your drive back home you have an interesting convo on the meaning of life

day 4 you take a pottery class together

ransom makes the most deformed bowl you’ve ever seen in your life

so naturally you put it up for display in your bedroom (so whenever you see it you can think of him)

day five is a first class flight to some luxurious villa in europe. most of day five is taken up on a plane

ransom lets you lay your head on him while you sleep, even though the position you’re in is making it astonishingly uncomfortable for him

day six you guys explore the city all day together

ransom makes sure not to complain about his aching legs (even though yours are getting sore too, and if he said something you would’ve done something about it!)

on your real birthday (day seven), ransom takes you out to a very nice dinner, and gives you a hand written letter detailing how much he loves and cares about you (because sometimes it’s hard for him to say his feelings)

you’re extremely flattered but have no idea how you’ll top this for his own birthday

andy barber

you and andy aren’t really huge on big gestures, so he does little things throughout the day

while you’re at work, he makes a surprise stop by and brings you your favorite drink & lunch from your favorite food place

he sends a bouquet of flowers to your job as well

after work, he cooks for you then showers you in gifts

your favorite thing that he gets you is a little engraved necklace with yours and his initials on it

at the end of the day, he gives you a nice full body massage and somehow that was exactly what you needed.

maybe not the most extravagant birthday, but a good one nonetheless.

frank adler

you have a pretty chill birthday with him and mary

he brings you a cake that him and mary made/decorated together

it’s kind of hideous but you love it

you guys let mary skip class for just 1 (one) day but tell her to keep it a secret

you call the school and let her fake being sick in the background. it is a hoot

you all go to the zoo together 

you take tons of pictures

your personal favorite is one where mary and frank are posing with a giraffe

after the zoo, you go bowling

when you win, the sore losers that came with you claim they were letting you win since it was your birthday

you end your day at the beach, watching mary and her cat play in the sand in your peripheral vision while you and frank admire the sunset

ah, sweet, sweet domesticity

ari levinson

you go to an escape room to celebrate your birthday

it’s just you and ari, but you’re smart so you don’t expect it to be too difficult

🚨wrong🚨

you’re both so hard headed and stubborn that doing any of the tasks is like pulling teeth

eventually the building had to close, and you’ve only finished like... a few tasks in the hours you’ve been there

this was certainly not a bad birthday though, arguing with ari is one of your favorite pastimes

and this birthday certainly did not disappoint

jake jensen

you and the rest of your team decided to go to a little retro arcade for the first half of the night

you spent way more time than necessary watching jake attempt to beat the high score of some random game

after giving up on beating the highest score on a pac-man machine, jake decided to attempt to win you a prize on the claw machine

like, $20 and a few annoyed humans in line behind him later, it was still nothing

when jake finally gave up, the next person in line won the soft and plushy elephant you had your eye on

and while your back was turned, he may or may not have paid off its rightful owner in order to get it with you

it was too sweet of a gesture for you to even try to be annoyed with jake

a bit later, you decided to partake in a game of laser tag which was going on in the same building

this was fine and dandy buuuut

everyone on your team treated every mission (real or fictional) like the end of the world

this made for a few very interesting matches

jake nearly trampled a child more than one time

good thing everyone was required to sign a waiver before playing

a custody battle over which team got to have cougar seemed to be a consistent theme during the night

when you were on different teams, you couldn’t help but notice that jake was getting a little too much pleasure out of shooting you

it was fine because you were equally enthusiastic about shooting him

you were eventually booted from the game when an employee claimed you were all being too rough

at some point you lost the elephant

but luckily for you, you found it before you went home

you were going to keep that elephant forever

johnny storm

you were genuinely convinced that johnny forgot your birthday

he did not bring it up ONCE the whole day

you’re actually kind of hurt for a while and get all in your head

johnny gets the silent treatment 🙄 (but he deserves it)

you decide to stop moping and go out, since it issss your birthday

you do your makeup and put on a skimpy little dress

as you leave your room and start enter the communal portion of the baxter building, johnny stops you and checks you out

he’s like “where are you going????”

and you’re like “out 😐”

and he’s like “are you sure? 🤨”

and you’re like yes duh

then he gestures to the side really quickly and you’re kinda confused then a whole bunch of people pop out and start cheering for your birthday

you’re kinda embarrassed that you spent so much of the day moping but you quickly get over it because you love a good party

by the time that most of your guests are gone, you force johnny to take you out to the club

and of course you warn him not to ever pull a stunt like that again

lucas lee

he forgot it was your birthday

#steve rogers x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #andy barber x reader #frank adler x reader #jake jensen x reader #johnny storm x reader #lucas lee x reader #ari levinson x reader #headcanon #chris evans x reader

[colossalcriminal]

Inevitable End - s.r

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: After 3 long months of being apart, Spencer and Y/N navigate through their messy relationship.

Part II to  Hopelessly Devoted.

Content Warnings: Character death, swearing, violence, divorce, illness, Prison!Reid. Not proofread and it’s kinda short? 1.2k words.

1 week after Spencer gets out of prison.

After telling him he was coming home and wishing him luck in getting his mother back and catching Scratch, Y/N hadn’t seen too much of her ex-husband besides the 5 minutes they got when he was picking up the kids and vise versa.

In truth, she didn’t know where their relationship stood. Throughout his months in prison they’d openly declared their love for each other during every visit, but never anything more.

She’d grown physically weaker, the stress of managing 3 children getting to her without Spencer’s help. She loved her kids more than anything, but them being at school was the best relief she’d have all day.

Their after school snack was in the making - brownies as a Friday treat - when she heard the lock of the front door jiggle. Gasping, she reached for the nearby knife she’d used to cut chocolate along with a frying pan from the cupboard. If watching Tangled with her daughter a thousand times taught her anything, it would be that frying pans were the best weapon.

Spencer swung the door open, eyes wide when he saw Y/N practically ready for battle. “Jesus fucking Christ, you scared me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He extended his arms, his aversion to touch nonexistent around her. She huffed, accepting the hug by wrapping her arms around his neck. “How are you doing?”

She shrugged, still encased in his arms. “I’m okay. The occasional chest pain here and there but I’ll be fine.”

“I should be here more to help out, I’m sorry.”

Shaking her head, she pulled away, arms remaining around his neck. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re out saving the world.”

He smiled softly, eyes completely focused on her. It was almost as if he could feel the oxytocin flooding his brain. “Marry me.” 

Y/N giggled, confusion lacing it. “What?”

“Marry me. I love you, I sure hope you love me. I want to spend the rest of our lives married to you.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Absolutely. Wait,” He dug deep into his pocket, finally pulling out a small velvet box and opening it to display a brand new ring. Still a man of tradition, Spencer got on one knee, a charming smile begging her to say yes. “Will you marry me?”

3 days later.

The couple didn’t exactly wait, unable to contain their excitement. Their happiness only grew when their children were equally, possibly even more, excited than they were.

Rossi strolled into one of his many spare rooms, a proud grin on display as he saw the woman he watched grow since she was merely 21 years old fix her white dress. “Take it from someone whose been married 3 times, I think this time it’s going to work.”

Y/N turned around, smile stretching from ear to ear. “Really?”

He nodded. “You look beautiful, Bella.”

Rossi wasn’t there for the first wedding that happened 12 years ago, he didn’t witness the union of two young, brilliant people, which resulted in Hotch walking her down the aisle. This time, it was the other way around. Hotch wasn’t there for the union of two wise, lovesick people.

The pair linked arms once the ladies of the BAU had walked down as bridesmaids, along with Morgan as a groomsman. Lyle had taken the position of best man, Alex ring bearer and Diana Jr. maid of honor.

They started with slow steps, Y/N beaming throughout the walk, eyes almost closed from the wide smile. “Hi,” Spencer whispered, taking her hands. “again.”

“Hello.”

Rossi quickly made the switched to priest. “We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of these beautiful, young people. Now, you’d think I know this off by heart considering the amount of times I’ve heard it, but I don’t. You may say your vows.”

“Y/N. I know the first time didn’t end so well, that I made the biggest mistake of my entire life which cost me everything. And I’m so grateful, and honored, that you’d ever take me back, let alone agree to marry me. But you’ve always had a big heart, a golden heart. I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you, taking you around the world, reciting old tales and having dates at the museum. Y/N Reid, you’re my love, you’re my soul. I’ll spend everyday waking up to you, making sure you know that.”

Y/N swiftly wiped a tear that had escaped her eye, chuckling at her own overdose of emotion. “Sorry, my eyes are just sweaty.” The small crowd laughed quietly. “Oh, I forgot what I was going to say. If I could tell 21 year old me, getting ready for our big day, one thing, I’d tell her that it isn’t a fairytale. Love is hard, and complex and quite possibly one of the most beautiful things in the world. I don’t think I could ever live in a world without you, Spencer Reid. My time on this Earth is so, so limited, yet somehow you make me feel like I could go on and on forever. I don’t care if you’re a man of science, and don’t believe in it, but I will meet you in a next life, and I’ll fall in love with you all over again because you’re my forever, Spencer.”

Rossi sniffled, redness present on his waterline from excessive crying. “You may kiss your bride.”

4 years later.

Spencer did fulfill his promise of taking Y/N around the world, the family of 5 vacationing around the world every time he was on his 30 day break. They'd printed out more family photos than anyone can count, savoring every moment, framing and displaying it.

They all knew the day would come soon, it was talked about.

She layed in bed, skin a sickly colour and lips close to turning purple, banishing any rosiness that once was. The beeping of the machines keeping her heart going was echoing in his brain as she attempted a smile.

Diana was 14. At her advanced level, she knew more than enough about her mother’s condition, more than any teenager should ever know. “Please don’t say something cheesy, like you’ll always be in my heart or something.” She croaked. “It’s too early for you to go, you still have a year left.”

“I know, baby. But apparently god takes his favorite people first, so I must’ve done something really good, right?”

“You’re the least religious person I know, mom.”

Y/N laughed at this, though it was strained. She said her goodbyes to her children, heart breaking with every word until they excused themselves, giving the couple privacy. “You took me around the world, Spence. You’re letting me go with some of the best memories one can have. Thank you.”

“You can’t go yet, you still have a year.”

She pouted. “Sweetheart, it’s a miracle I’ve made it this far.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Just promise me you’ll be okay? That you won’t put your entire life on hold?”

He kissed her hand, leaning his cheek on it, a haphazard attempt at trying to warm it. “How can I when you are my entire life?”

“I love you, Spencer. Out of all the people in the world, I am beyond content with the fact that I spent the better half of my life with you.”

Y/N Reid December 2nd, 1984 - August 9th, 2021 The most devoted wife, mother, daughter and agent.

A/N: Fun fact, this was the alternate ending I had in mind for my Wattpad book. Instead of reader, my OC is names Elizabeth and she's the daughter of Ted Bundy. Cliche, I know. The book is still being updated regularly on Wattpad, so if you want to give it a read, go ahead and ask for the title! It’s not my best work, just a side hobby I don’t bother too much with proofreading and all.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fan #spencer reid imagine

[acourtofsnakes]

E’tad - Rogue, Chapter 9| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: You are going about your time in Nevarro, completely unaware of the struggle and frantic journey the Mandalorian is making. Will he get there in time?

Warnings: A bit of violence/swearing, mentions of death/blood, alcohol/drinking

AN: I’m really sorry that this chapter isn’t as gripping as the others.  I’ve been super overwhelmed lately and been struggling to get my ideas down into actual words. I’ve been working on this for way longer than the word count reflects and just wanted to get it out. You can still count on a cliffhanger ending though, of course ♥︎

Also, I’m sorry if there’s parts that aren’t canon. I definitely made up a couple of the planets and potentially bits of Nevarro. 

Not yet beta read.

Word Count: 4832

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss  @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran| 9: E’tad

Mando’a translation: E'tad - seven

You’d been in Nevarro for a few days now. 

Things were going... okay? 

No. Things were going well. Really well. You felt safer here, knowing that Cara and Greef were monitoring who was coming and going and making sure they posed no threat to you. 

There were a few tense moments, times when government officials came wandering past, but you always stayed hidden out of the way. 

No one looked twice at you here – and if they did, it wasn’t for long. 

When you first walked through the town, you found Cara and Greef waiting for you just inside the gates. 

They were kind, welcoming too. Greef took your bag and welcomed you to the planet, whilst Cara smiled at you and shook your hand. You sensed that she was strong, determined and loyal to her cause and friends. She had a kindness in her eyes though, and it put you at ease.

These were Mando’s friends. He trusted them to take care of you, so that meant you’d be able to trust them too. 

They had shown you around, giving you a tour of the places that you might need, like markets and small stores, but also the places to avoid. 

When you’d had your tour, they showed you to a quaint building a short walk away from the centre of town. 

There were only 4 floors to the building, and about 2 rooms on each floor. Stopping on the third floor, they had showed you where you’d be staying. 

Cara had apologised for it being more on the minimal side, but you’d shaken your head quickly. This was more than you’d had in… years. 

There was a little kitchenette area to prepare food, a lounge space with a slightly ragged looking armchair and table. To the right of the space was a curtained off sleeping area, containing a thin, but comfy looking cot and then just off of that a washing area. There was a decent-sized metal tub, big enough for you to be able to sit in and just extend your legs comfortably. 

It might not have been grand, or spacious but it was a home. A place to come back to at the end of the day and be safe. 

The two had left you to get settled, and you couldn’t help that sharp pang in your chest. 

The Razor Crest had become a… sort of home to you over the last few weeks. It’s softly lit corridors and spaces, things crammed in everywhere but all mostly organised… the little compartment that had been your – well, the Mandalorian’s, - bed. The cockpit, where you spent most of your days either bantering with Mando or sitting in comfortable silence. 

The kitchen area… his hands on your skin..

The weight of him behind you..

You missed him. And if you were honest, it still stung. That all of that had occurred between you and he was just getting rid of you. 

No, maybe that wasn’t the right phrase. And nothing had really happened between you. Just an outpouring of tension. Besides, he was so warm, maybe he had been running a fever. 

Mando had said that it was the only way to keep you safe. 

And you knew that you were also attracting attention onto him and Grogu. 

It still didn’t stop it from hurting any less. 

~~~~~~~~~

-----7 Days Left-----

The Mandalorian made it back to his ship in record time. He didn’t waste precious minutes explaining to Peli. Just stating he had to go, thank you for the repairs and the last few days. 

Seven days. He just seven days to get back, grab you, and flee. 

Easy. He could do that easily. 

Right?

He gave her a handful of credits, promising to come back soon. 

He probably came across as rude, but he just couldn’t afford to wait. 

You would have been on Nevarro for a little over a week now. He’d been with Peli for a good few days, and the travelling here had cost him about a day and a bit. 

You were probably settled. 

Maybe even.. happy?

His instincts were always right, and they were telling him that this guy, Haran, the shadow of Hell, had meant every single word. That if he found you before Mando did, you would never return. 

Even if that happened, the Mandalorian would tear apart the galaxy to find you. There wouldn’t be a corner of space that Haran could hide that Mando wouldn’t get to. He would kill anyone who stood in his way, anyone who stopped him from reaching you. 

The force of his determination nearly took his breath away as he switched on the ship, the engines roaring to life

Moments later, he was leaving Tatooine. 

“I’m coming for you.”

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

After that initial first week of settling in, you found that things improved a great deal. 

You knew your way around almost 100%, and frequently took walks around the town. 

Cara had reassured you that you wouldn’t have to hide here, but on busier days it would be best to keep your hood up. 

Just in case. 

Despite the threat of someone slipping through their watchful eyes, you relaxed. 

You worked with Cara sometimes during the days, going along with her for her Marshal duties and keeping things in order.

Other days, you spent time with Greef. You found him to be sort of… like an uncle in attitude. He was reassuring, and you enjoyed spending time with the both of them. 

You’d even begun to help out in the local school. Karga had suggested it one day, mentioning in passing how the teaching droids might benefit with a pair of extra eyes and hands. 

After making a few helpful comments, you had somehow established yourself as a teacher of survival. Not in the sense of, ‘this is how to disarm a bounty hunter who is coming at you whilst you’re sleeping., but more in the vein of, “Here’s how to find fresh water and a place to sleep.” 

The kids loved it, especially when you staged imaginary scenarios for them and had them running about the place or creeping through ‘the undergrowth’.

It felt good. To be using these skills you’d been forced to learn for something positive, something that the kids enjoyed. 

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

-----5 Days Left-----

Of course he had to stop for fuel. 

He had forgotten to ask Peli to fill it up before he left. Mainly because they couldn’t get out there when the sandstorm had hit, and then because he had left so quickly. 

He wanted to punch himself. 

Maybe he would. It might make him feel better. 

The Mandalorian stopped at the next closest planet, barely having turned the engines off before he was climbing out of the cockpit and making his way through the ship, Grogu secured in his little bag. 

He was halfway down the ramp when he looked over his shoulder, to check that you and Duru were behind him. 

Only to stop short, because you were no longer with him. Remember?

He sighed, ignoring the wrench of his heart and he walked through the landing bay. 

A quick search revealed a man in a fuel operatives’ uniform. 

Relief flooded Mando’s senses, and he hurried over, “Excuse me, would you be able to fill my ship? I’m sorry but I’m really in a hurry.”

The man looked up, wiping his hands on his uniform and he came over to Mando. “The Crest that just landed? Sure, I can fill her up right away, sir.” 

Moments later, he had hooked up the necessary pipes and the ship was being pumped full of fuel. 

It didn’t stop him from pacing though, checking the time on the large display inside the landing bay. 

He was full of frantic energy, and he should probably stop pacing because he was going to make Grogu sick. 

The operative looked up, tilting his head a little, “Forgive me, sir, but you look awful jittery. Is something wrong?”

The Mandalorian spun on the spot, looking at the man suspiciously.

Was he working for Haran? Was this a distraction? 

Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. 

Grogu gurgled at his side, and he didn’t need to bother translating. He was being stupid; the kid was right. 

Mando sighed, curling his hands into fists and then uncurling them to try and release some tension. “Have you ever heard of the Shadow of Death?” 

The man cursed, dropping the tool he was holding. He looked around quickly, his colourful face going pale with fear, “Sir! I beg you, please do not speak that name. Even mentioning it can summon him here.”

The Mandalorian couldn’t hide the surprise form his voice, “You believe in him then?”

The worker nodded slowly, motioning Mando over. When he was close enough, the man said quietly, “I’ve seen his… work.”

A chill skittered over Mando’s bones, “You’ve seen… someone he’s killed?”

A green sheen had come over the operatives face, “Yes, sir. I’ve seen it firsthand and I still wake up screaming even today.”

The Mandalorian tilted his head, “Many people believe he’s a myth, thought up by the darkest of people to cover their tracks.”

“That creature is not a myth, sir. He came for my sister and her family. She ran, but he was waiting at the safe house for her.” The man’s eyes became hazy with memory. “I don’t know how he knew. She had told no one where she was going. Not even me. They had never uttered the location aloud, not even to each other. They wrote it down. Just in case he was in the walls, listening.” The man swallowed roughly once, twice.

“When we got there, there was nothing left to bury. Just clothes, a few strands of hair and blood coating the walls. It was like something from a nightmare. There were only a few… chunks left of them. They could never identify who was who.” He heaved a little, then turned grave eyes onto the Mandalorian.

“If you know someone he wants, you’d be best of killing them yourselves. It would be a lot kinder.”

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

-----2 Days Left-----

The Mandalorian was getting frantic. 

And with his frantic haste, came messiness. 

He didn’t know it was taking him so damn long to get to Nevarro. He should have been there three days ago. Hell, he should never have left you there. 

There had been a nebula on the way out of the planet. It hadn’t come up on his radar until the last moment and he had to swerve to get around it, which cost him a detour he couldn’t afford. He couldn’t risk jumping into hyperspeed until he was clear either. 

Though it had taken too long, he eventually cleared it. 

He was close, so close. He’d been about to make the jump when two X-wing’s had come out of nowhere and started to chase him down. He’d tried to get them away, tried to shake them off but they’d forced him down into some icy planet. 

He’d nearly crashed the ship, nearly lost Grogu because the little womp rat decided to climb out of his seat as Mando tried to land and then the engines had cut out because they got too cold. 

And now he was cold. Fucking freezing in fact. 

Tracking through the snow and the ice, looking for the two pilots to get rid of them so he could be back on his way to finding you. 

With each movement of the sun, he became more and more painfully aware of how slow he was. 

He was never this slow. Never this sloppy. He needed to calm down and clear his head, but the words of the fuel operative kept ringing in his head. 

“That creature is not a myth, sir. He came for my sister and her family. She ran, but he was waiting at the safe house for her. 

When we got there, there was nothing left to bury. Just clothes, a few strands of hair and blood coating the walls. 

If you know someone he wants, you’d be best of killing them yourselves. It would be a lot kinder.”

He gritted his teeth as a shudder shook his body, and not from the cold. 

You wouldn’t end up like that. 

He’d find you. You would be fine. 

Noise broke through his thoughts, the sounds of the pilots and he slipped behind a snowpile and sunk down to wait. 

~~~~~~~~~

Okay. So maybe the last few days weren’t going as well as they could have been. 

You were embarrassed to admit it, but at least two of them were spent drunk, and the third was spent in a state of hungover blurriness. 

Pinpointing the exact trigger was hard. 

It might have been the horrific nightmares that begun 4 days ago, or it might have been the conversation you had with Cara that day. 

You’d been sitting in the cantina, just talking after a day of work and she had begun to ask about your past. Nothing invasive, nothing forcing you to answer but something in you had wanted to spill some of the burden. 

She’d asked you where you learned your survival skills, and you thought about lying but… something stopped you. So, you’d told her. At least, as much as you could without revealing the real reason. 

You told her about the murder of your parents. How the market had been attacked that day, and you could do nothing to stop them dying. 

You told her how you’d run, spending two days hiding in a waste dump, crying and vomiting with fear and the horror of what you’d seen. How you’d dragged yourself out, and started your journey of planet hopping and hitching rides. 

Cara had asked what you did to get people coming after you, and you simply told her they thought you’d been responsible for the market attack, and the murders of the friends you’d made because people always seemed to die around you. 

You told her how it had forced you to not be able to trust anyone, to only be able to rely on yourself and how you had to learn to survive. 

It hadn’t been easy. You had made yourself sick countless times, including one really bad week where you ate some questionable vegetables and spent four days in a hallucinating stupor, convinced you were dying. 

She’d laughed at that and returned the favour by telling you about her shock trooper days. The fact they were dumped in on their own to hunt the warlords, being exposed to horrors that only you and few others could understand. 

The pair of you had spent the evening sharing stories, dancing around the subject of a certain beskar-clad hunter and his child. You couldn’t go there, couldn’t talk about it. 

She probably gathered all the information she needed from your lack of response though, by the look in her eye and the smirk when she mentioned him. 

That night might have been the cause of the horrific nightmare where you were convinced you’d just watched the Mandalorian and Grogu be torn to shreds by your own power. You’d woken up screaming, tasting their blood like that night and barely made it to the small bathroom area before vomiting. 

That was the last night you’d remembered before getting drunk. 

You supposed you were ashamed of yourself. 

You were giving in to feelings you’d spent years repressing.

You were wallowing. 

You’re hurting. You’re allowed to let go of the pain sometimes, to feel it. You can’t keep going like the ice queen all the time.  

How you hated that inner voice of reason. 

~~~~~~~~~

-----1 Day left-----

His gloves were soaked with melted snow, sticking to his skin and freezing again instantly, no matter how many times he tried to warm them. It made his movements slow and fumbly as he desperately worked to fix the engine of his ship. 

He’d tried to take off as soon as he’d gotten rid of the pilots, but as soon as he’d started the engines, they died with no more than a puff of smoke. 

They were frozen. 

Snow and ice had gotten into the rotors and they wouldn’t start long enough for him to heat them up. 

He was stuck here. 

Grogu was freezing. 

Mando had left him inside the cockpit with the doors shut, bundled in all the blankets he could find in the ship. The heaters weren’t working, and the backup generator barely provided enough heat to stop the windows from icing over. 

He made a frustrated noise as he dropped his tools, stooping down to scoop them out of the snow. 

He had to get this working. He had to fix this and get to you. 

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you rose, dressed and returned to work. 

You apologised for your previous behaviour and threw yourself into your daily tasks with a determination that might have been bordering on insanity. 

You were eager to wipe away the shame of the past few days, so you spent the day doing every single job you could find and more. Even going out into the town on your lunch break to help around the markets and local small stores. 

It kept the thoughts at bay, the guilt and the shame, and also the relentless longing that plagued you. 

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

-----12 hours left-----

The sun had set long ago. 

He was working by the small light on his helmet now. 

It was barely enough to see in front of his face, but he couldn’t stop. Even though he couldn’t feel his feet, or his hands. Or any of his body, actually.

He couldn’t let you die. 

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

It was the end of the day. 

You had just finished your work, helping Cara with maintaining things around town, dealing with the odd shady traveller that passed through looking for trouble. 

She knew your skills, that you were ruthless, quick and knew your way around a blade well enough to scare someone off. 

It was why you had started training with her a few days ago, before the drunken haze. 

You’d showed up to her office after a night of screaming dreams, shattered, wound up and tense. 

She’d taken one look at you, then taken you out the back to a big empty plot and begun to train with you. And it had worked. Sparring with someone and having to focus had helped you channel that anxious energy. 

It was a regular occurrence now, which was why you were engaged in another session with her. 

Greef had come to watch this afternoon, and sat on one of the huge, jagged hunks of rock that littered the volcanic planet. 

It didn’t put you off, you were too focused as you ducked under Cara’s punch, twirling around her body and delivering a sharp kick to her kidneys that had her coughing. You couldn’t help the chuckle, lightly springing back a few steps as she spun to face you, “Oh come on, you practically invited me to kick you.”

Cara rolled her eyes, advancing toward you, “And you were foolish enough to take it.” She flew into another attack on you, which you matched punch for punch, like you knew the moves she was going to take without her saying. 

You wondered if it had something to do with your power, some instinct from it. You still felt its presence more often than not lately, since that night it had helped you save the Mandalorian. You’d tried to push it back, but it was calling to you more and more recently. 

Shaking the thoughts free of your head, you focused back on fighting, pouring everything into it and letting go of all that nervous energy. 

You practically floated across the ashy ground, moving around her like you were breathing. 

It wasn’t quite the choreographed, effortless fighting you and Mando had engaged in, but it was still something. 

Dimly, you heard Greef laugh, clapping. “I never quite knew what Mando meant when he told us you fought like you were dancing, but I completely understand now.”

You froze, just managing to lift a hand and block Cara’s swing to your face, “What? He said that?” You looked over your shoulder, eyebrows raised in shock.

Karga nodded quickly, “Oh, yes! When he was telling us about the first time you met, and when you saved his life. He said he’d met more fighters in his life than he could remember, but you stood out most of all. ‘She fights like she’s dancing. Like she’s moving to a song of death only she can hear. It was mesmerising’ That’s what he told us.”

Mesmerising.

He’d really said that about you? Complimented you like that to his friends when you weren’t around?

It made your heart constrict and a sort of warm feeling spread through your veins. 

Unfortunately, it also made you distracted. 

Which gave Cara the opportunity to slam her knee into your back and knock you to the ground. “Stop getting doe-eyed over the Mandalorian and focus.” She was laughing, standing over you. 

Your cheeks flushed slightly but you snarled, flipping on your back and pulling out her ankles. “I don’t get doe-eyed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

-----2 hours left---

The Mandalorian had never been this cold. 

He was still outside, and a snowstorm had begun now. 

His poor visibility was even worse, and it seemed to take him twice as long to do anything. 

It was like the commands he sent from his brain to his hands were slogging through the thick snow. 

His armour had long since frozen over, and every time he moved, ice cracked and fell from the crevice’s. 

He didn’t know how long he could do this for. 

He didn’t know if Grogu was still alive. 

He didn’t know if you were still alive. 

Haran may have gone back on his words and come after you anyway. You might have been dead for days already. 

No. 

No, he couldn’t let himself think that. 

He had to keep going. He had to… 

He had to rest…

He was cold. So very cold that he almost felt warm. 

A mournful cry of wind shot through him, sucking the little energy from his body in a sub-zero blast and his knees gave out, dumping him in the snow. 

Get up. 

He couldn’t. 

~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

“Good fighting today. You were a lot more focused. Well, mostly.” Cara leaned against the doorway to your building, crossing her arms and grinning again. 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks so much. The bruise I have on my back will forever remind me of your compliments.” 

She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “And the pain in my kidney’s will remind of yours.” She tilted her head, watching you, “Why did it throw you so much?”

You pretended not to know what she was talking about, “Me kicking you in the kidneys?”

Cara gave you a deadpan look, knowing what you were doing, “No. What Greef said about Mando. You looked shocked.”

You swallowed, looking down and pretending to examine your boots and you pulled out an easy shrug, “I just didn’t expect a compliment like that from him. The first time we fought, we were both trying to kill each other, and the second time he saw me, he was half-unconscious. I didn’t think he remembered.”

Whether she saw through your lie or not, she thankfully didn’t press it. “Well… He can shock you sometimes, trust me.” She stood up straight, pushing away from the wall “I’ll see you later for dinner?”

Relief flooded through you and you nodded, able to meet her gaze now, “Sure, dinner sounds great. I’ll come by after a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

-----0 Hours Left-----

He was too late.

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

You were still thinking about what Greef said as you made your way into the cantina, Duru asleep back in your room.  

It had become a popular haunt for you whilst being here. You wondered if you might be starting to have a problem. 

But the chatter of the different people and creatures provided an ambiance that kept the wandering thoughts at bay. 

When you were alone and still, you had a habit of straying to the Mandalorian and Grogu. 

His last words kept echoing in your head, that you might see each other soon. 

When, Lori? Soon isn’t close enough.

You sighed to yourself as you slid onto a seat at the bar. You seriously needed to have an intervention with yourself. You didn’t pine like this. You didn’t get soft and sentimental. 

You couldn’t afford to, not the way you lived. 

But we aren’t on the run anymore. At least not like we used to be…

You ignored that voice in your head, the one that threatened to speak sense. Luckily, the droid that was serving as the bartender came over, placing your usual drink in front of you. 

You nodded in thanks, pulling it toward you. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that the droid knew your drink without asking. 

Then again… it was a droid. It was probably built into its hardware. It didn’t mean that you were an alcoholic. Although, your drunken stupor went against that argument. 

You brushed your hand over the bar in front of you, getting rid of the layer of volcanic ash that settled over everything. Every night you found it in your hair, under your clothes and even in your boots. It didn’t bother you much though. Over the years, you’d become used to it, being covered in dirt or grime. 

Except when you were on the Crest. 

You shook your head slightly at yourself. You weren’t going to go there. 

You could do what you wanted to on the Crest. You didn’t have to be covered in dirt or ash or mud. You were clean. Rested. Warm. 

Do not go there. 

You had company. Friends, even. 

You blew out a breath, taking a big gulp of your drink. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were here. You didn’t know how long you were to stay for, but this was your new… home. 

But it doesn’t feel like home. It’s not cosy. It doesn’t smell the same. You can’t hear the sounds of the engine, or Grogu or Mando. 

Maker, you had to find a way to shut that voice up. Maybe you’d knocked something lose back when you fought the guy with a tail. Things hadn’t been right in your head since then. 

Since you saved the Mandalorian’s life?

“Shut up!!” You didn’t realise you’d hissed the words out loud until a nearby trader gave you a funny look. 

Brilliant, now you looked drunk or possibly crazy. 

You dropped your head into your hands, rubbing your eyes. You needed to get over yourself.

And the Mandalorian. 

When you lifted your glass back to your lips, you noticed that your drink was already done. 

Whoops. Definitely looking more drunk than crazy now.

You looked up, raising your hand for another drink regardless and when the droid placed it in front of you, you slid over the required credits. 

Only for it to push them back, “Your drinks have already been paid for, miss.” 

You blinked in confusion at its monotone voice, “By who? I asked Cara and Greef not to touch my tab.” You had wanted to pay for it yourself. They refused to take any money in payment for you room, so you had managed to negotiate any expenses you racked up elsewhere – such as here. 

The droid looked at you with its expressionless robotic face, “They were not paid for by Marshal Dune or Greef Karga. Please, take the credits.”

You reached out, slowly dragging them back and putting them back inside the inside pocket of your cloak, “Who paid for it then?” You couldn’t help the insistent tone to your voice, even if it would be lost on the droid. 

Before it could answer, your question was answered. 

“I did.” 

The voice that came from behind you was silken, rising over the din background noise of the cantina. It caressed over your bones, those two simple words dripping like honey. Something tugged inside of you, pulled at that buried kernel of power. 

You turned on your stool, looking for the owner of such a magnetic voice. 

There, behind you, sat a figure. 

Decked in an expensive looking cloak lined with golden thread, lounging back in his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world. You could see the edge of a hilt peeping above broad shoulders, something drawing you to look at it but you couldn’t see it properly. 

You blinked again, raising an eyebrow, “Sorry?”

The figure leant forward, “I paid for your drinks.” He lifted a pair of gloved hands and pushed back his hood. 

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #rogue #force #star wars

[bokutoslittlebird]

Haikyuu Characters as Husbands/Dads [Meian, Osamu]

Semi will be released at a later date (because I lost his and don’t know where it went 😥)

Meian - 2 sons

> I'd love for this man to be my husband, no lie. He's supportive and so attractive, like there is no downside. Plus, he's funny, but can be strict when he needs to be so kids actually like him.

> Husband Meian is one of the best because while he has his own responsibilities, he always makes time to spend with you. He takes care of you (so you don't have to work) and he's a great support system. Also, you visiting him at practice? You're like the team mom because everyone loves you.

> This man, oh my gosh. His dick is big, I know it is. He's one of the few who has to prep you heavily before he gets on with the main course, but it is so delicious when he does. Sex can sometimes be spontaneous, but he usually saves some energy to get back home and please you before bath time and then bed. On his days off, morning sex is common and sometimes he just gets so horny. It's like everything you do is so unbelievably hot.

> Now, children. Children, for him, is not something he necessarily needs in his life. If you don't want kids because you don't like them or you can't, that's fine. He won't push the issue. If you want kids and can't have them, he'll look into adoption places. You want him to get you pregnant? Congratulations, you unlocked the Breeding Kink badge. Collect it once you can walk again! But for real, with the consent to finish inside you, he is in heaven.

> The pregnancy process is a normal one, surprisingly. Once more your pillar, he is there when you feel sick or are in pain. He also promises to share in the responsibilities once the child is born, since he hears you getting up constantly because of the baby. He doesn't go to every doctor visit, but he does try to go to the ones that matter. Also, MSBY loves when you come around because they can fawn over you.

> Bokuto probably fawns over you the most, but Hinata's right there with him. Sometimes, Meian has to tell them to skedaddle because they forgot they're volleyball players and not daycare workers. Atsumu also fawns over you, but he doesn't do it as much. Sakusa.. he doesn't like babies that much. They're kind of gross, in his opinion, but he seems to understand the fuss once he feels the baby moving (after he's gotten used to it).

> The due date arrives and Meian is completely calm. He is aware that it would happen today and is prepared. He seems calm, but is actually panicking. He worries about any complications, but he tries to stay positive for you. When you're squeezing his hand and cursing him for putting a baby in you, he is actually sorry. He feels so guilty, but he kisses your hand and your forehead, telling you how proud he is and how much he loves you. Once the screams of a small child fill the room, you're both crying from happiness.

> You deal with the child most of the time, but you do take your kid to practices and matches. Once the kid can be taken to practices, it's over for organized practices. Everyone's cooing and looking at the baby, telling you how proud you must be and how they're so cute. Of course, Inunaki jokes that the only reason it's cute is because you're the mother, because Meian has no good features. Anyways, everyone does extra work that day.

> Meian can't be there as much as he wants to be, so he often makes up for it by holding his promise of helping out at night. He may be exhausted from the day, but he knows you'd be even more exhausted after dealing with his spawn after the day is over. It also helps the kid get used to him, seeing dad takes care of him as much as mom, you know?

> Meian is also not against a second child, as long as you're okay with it. You might get pregnant again on accident, but he can't say he's upset about the positive pregnancy test. He'll be there with you through thick and thin, no matter what.

Osamu - Twins, 1 boy and 1 girl

> This man is a godsend. I love him, you love him, it all works out. He is also one of the best husbands to have because of his fantastic cooking ability. 

> The wedding was almost as chaotic as Tendo’s, not gonna lie. With his brother there, it was chaos. Suna recorded the whole thing, so get togethers involve the wedding tape being displayed. Watching Atsumu shove an entire cake slice into Osamu’s face is funny, sure, but watching Osamu practically hurl the entire cake at Atsumu is even funnier. Aran picking up Kita before he gets trampled by cake-covered twins is so sweet, it’s the sweeter than the cake (Osamu had a spare in case).

> Now this man, this man will never let you starve. Oh, you're kind of hungry? Food. He's making you Onigiri. Oh, you want something new for dinner? He's whipping out three different cookbooks and his laptop to look up new recipes. Oh, need a midnight snack? He prepared something before bed, so you'd have a midnight snack. The best husband to marry.. if you love food.

> If you are not as crazy about food as him, that's okay, but he will bring food into the bedroom. Maybe once a week if you're okay with it, but if not then once a month. He loves licking things off your body, so food play. I also feel like he loves to feed you, so feederism, but he just enjoys seeing you in the sea of pleasure and enjoying his food. It fills him with so much love.

> Speaking of love, the children. He's gonna have twins if he pops a baby into you. If there is a bun in the oven, some baby batter in the baby factory, you're gonna be seeing double. However, children are not a necessity. He doesn't find joy in raising children like some people, but he isn't heavily against it, either. If you cannot have children or simply don't want to get pregnant, but want them, he will also be okay with that. Looking through options and settling on a decision together brings you guys closer, after all.

> If you choose to get pregnant, he is one of the best to be with you. While there's Kuroo, with big bucks, Osamu can make anything to sate cravings. He's willing to take time off from the shop and focus on you, and he's good at dealing with mood swings. He's lived this long after being around Atsumu, Suna, and Kita. He can handle mood swings. He is also always with you when you go to the doctor, with questions of what he can and cannot feed you. It's his love language, after all!

> The babies, aww. You guys get a set of twins, a boy and girl, who look a lot like Osamu and Atsumu from their baby pictures. Atsumu is there and he jokes that maybe they're his kids, but one look from Kita has him apologizing almost immediately. Yes, Inarizaki alumni have gathered in the hospital to look upon the children. Well, not the hospital, they visit Osamu and you at home, where you're well rested and recovering.

> Osamu is The Man. He is waking up in the middle of the night, either with or without you. If you wake up, he'll heat up some baby formula/milk for the children and also make some food for the two of you. Since it's double the trouble, he makes sure to not leave you to take care of them by yourself. If you don't wanna get up or don't wake up, he doesn't mind. This just means he can spend more time with the kids, since he's busy during the day.

> Atsumu babysits! He babysits with Kita and Aran, but he babysits! He loves being an uncle and loves to play with the twins. He also brings/buys them little toys to chew and drool over because he enjoys them enjoying things. Aran also helps Kita make food/milk for the babies, acting like an actual married couple as they feed the small spawns. Atsumu naps around this time, eventually joined by napping babies.

> When the kids get older, they'll never feel unloved. Between you and Osamu, they have two very loving parents. But then you add in Uncle 'Tsumu, Uncle Aran, Uncle Kita, Uncle Sakusa, Uncle Bokuto, Uncle Akaashi- the list never ends. Everyone that knows you guys is an uncle. Inarizaki alumnis are uncles. MSBY Black Jackals are uncles. Akaashi is always visiting Onigiri Miya and loves to interact with the kids, to the point you've asked if he plans on ever having children because he's so good with them. (He's good at taking care of kids because he's used to taking care of Bokuto).

> I have a feeling one of the kids is going to go into the culinary business. Maybe own a bakery when they're older, showing an interest for baking at such as young age. One of them is of course going to be loving volleyball, with all the volleyball "family" members around them, it's bound to happen. Both of them probably get into volleyball, becoming the new Infamous Miya Twins Duo.

#BB.Requests #miya x reader #osamu x reader #Mr. ‘Samu #Onigiri Man #meian x reader #Mr. Shūgo #Meian.hcs #Meian.Floof #Osamu.hcs #Osamu.Floof #Miya.hcs #Miya.Floof #haikyuu x reader #Meian.Spice #BB.Kinky