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angry-geese · 3 years

Note

Can I request nsfw+fluff gojo x fem!reader? (established relationships) Just gojo being horny and needy after weeks not seeing reader due to work. (Uuuu and may I add breeding kink too <3 ) Lmaooo what's wrong with me✋🏻😔 I love your works btw and just take your time💕💕 here *slides a cookie 🍪 *

YESSSS gojo + breeding kink is top tier. i got a little carried away with this one lol

When We Meet Again

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: shameless smut. oral (fem receiving), creampies, mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, fluff and smut. slight somnophilia (kinda??) fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

jjk masterlist

It's well past midnight by the time he gets home.

Save for a single light in the kitchen, the apartment is dark. Leftover pastries sit out on the counter, covered with a bowl to keep bugs from getting to them, alongside your keys, and an empty mug of tea. A grocery list has been stuck to the fridge. A rack of dishes sits beside the sink, drying.

You're not in your usual spot on the couch. He's not surprised. It's late. And though you don't have work in the morning, you were never one to stay up so long. You must have gone to bed already. You might have stayed up had he bothered to tell you he was coming home. But he didn't. His plans changed at the last moment, and not even he knew he'd be back so soon.

He hates being gone this long. He misses sleeping in his own bed. Sometimes he forgets just how cold a bed can be without someone else in it.

The door to your shared room is open. Though it's dark. There's a faint green glow from the alarm clock on the side table. The moon is full enough tonight to provide a bit of light; a pale silver glow fills the room. And there you are, curled up on his side of the bed. In one of his shirts. A black button up that’s a bit too big for you, with sleeves that hang well past your fingertips.

It's not like he can refuse. If he’s getting called out to help, then there's probably not someone who can go in his place. The strongest doesn't really have time to take a vacation. He’s on call 24/7. Between his teaching job at Jujutsu Tech, and the major clans of Jujutsu society constantly demanding his attention, he’s rather short on free time.

It was a tedious job. Not worth his time. Not particularly tough, albeit time consuming. But the previous two sorcerers came back with nothing. And so he was sent out. Cleaning up someone else's mess.

The first week he called every day. The job wasn’t supposed to take any longer than that. Or so you both assumed. As the second rolled through, your calls grew shorter, and less frequent. He found himself frustrated with the lack of contact. It wasn't either of your faults. Your work called for you to be out during the little free time he had. Overtime. When you did have time to call each other, you were often exhausted, and short with him. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship.

The worst part of it all; he couldn't fuck you. And for a man that could go multiple rounds in a day, that was miserable. His love language is touch. Not being able to hold you was… well, miserable.

You don't really know the extent of the effect you have on him.

He's too tired to change, and he showered before he left, so he strips to his boxers and pulls his side of the blankets aside. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway. You always choose Sundays for laundry day, because that's the day before you have to go back to work. There's just enough room between you and the edge of the bed for him to slip in.

When something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

It's your voice. You’re calling out his name. You aren't awake, and though you do sometimes talk in your sleep, tonight is different. When it does happen, it's usually nonsense. Soft, endearing babble that he can't help but listen to. He says your name, softly, but you don't respond. Enough moonlight streams in through the window to see your face. Your brows are knit in concentration—possibly frustration—and sweat beads in your hairline.

Are you having a nightmare?

The bed dips under his weight as he sits, resting a hand on your thigh. Your skin is rather warm, he notes. You roll over onto your side, burying your face in his pillow. He pulls the blankets up, tucking them around your shoulders, as you’ve kicked them down by your feet in your sleep.

There it is again. You say his name, but there's a level of desperation behind it.

There's no denying the wetness between your thighs. You squeeze your thighs together in an unconscious attempt to get some relief. Your breathing is labored.

It's only a moment later that the realization kicks in.

The grin that splits his face can only be described as malicious in nature.

His hand creeps higher on your thigh, nudging the hem of your—his—shirt up. You’re not wearing anything underneath. The sight of your slick cunt is nearly enough to make his cock stand to attention.

His gaze falls to the curve of your hips, just barely illuminated by the moonlight. He likes the light of you in his shirt a little more than he likes to admit. Though he’s never been quiet about how much he appreciates your body.

Your body freezes the moment his thumb grazes across your slit. So does he. You’re so wet. Must be a real nice dream. You roll onto your back, your legs parted slightly. The soft gasps and moans that leave you are like music to his ears. Gojo takes this as an invitation to continue, his hand moving further up your thigh, lazily tracing circles into it.

You must've missed him more than he expected.

Your body registers that someone is touching you before it registers just who is doing such. In your sleepy, dream-ridden state you don't recognize the figure in front of you. In the dim light of the room, you can make out a mess of white hair, and the reflection of dark, round glasses shoved up into his hairline. Gojo’s eyes practically reflect in the dark.

You jolt awake, sitting up. “Jesus christ-”

“‘S just me, Mochi,” he says, though it does little to settle your nerves.

If you weren't awake before, you certainly are now.

“What? You watch people in their sleep now?!” You scold. “‘Toru- you scared the hell out of me!”

You flop back on the bed. The blankets pool around your hips. You reach to pull them back up, finding your bed colder than usual.

"You were calling out my name." He says.

"Oh," you say, and though there's little light in the room, he watches your face flush, "must have been dreaming about you."

“Wanna recreate what you were dreaming?” He asks. Rather smugly, might you add.

You roll your eyes. “Go to sleep.”

"Scoot over then. I'm gonna fall off the bed."

This prompts an evil sounding giggle from you, followed by a: "fall then."

"Alright," he says, rolling over to lay on you, throwing his arm around your waist. You’re effectively pinned under him, as the awkward angle won't allow you any leverage to throw him off. He attacks the exposed part of your neck with kisses, sucking hickeys into the flesh of your neck and shoulders. His hair tickles your skin.

“‘Toru- stop!” You squeal. “Let me go-”

“Not until you apologize,” he says, planting a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Never!”

“Then I guess I won't let you go.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. One of his hands finds your own, his fingers lacing with yours. His legs tangle with yours in a way that holds them in place. Worming out of his grip in this position would be a near impossible task.

You suppose there’s worse fates than this.

It would be easier to stay awake if he wasn't so warm. Or if he didn't smell so nice. Or if he wasn't softly rocking your body with each breath he takes. His thumb traces soft circles around your knuckles. Gojo’s breath is warm against your neck, making goosebumps rise along the soft flesh. The steady sound of it is almost enough to lull you to sleep.

"I missed you." You say. Your voice is almost too soft to hear.

“I know.” He says. His arms give your midsection a reaffirming squeeze. “I missed you too.”

“How was work?”

“A shitshow,” he says, leaning to nip at your earlobe, “but I get to come home to you, so it’s not all bad. How’s everything been around here?”

“Quiet.” You say. “Kinda boring without you. I wish you told me you’d be home tonight. I would have done something special.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision.” He says. “I didn't expect to be home so soon either.”

“We should do something tomorrow, then,” you say, “a new ramen place opened up down the street. You know where the old bakery used to be? They leased the place out.”

Gojo hums in response. Ramen sounds nice. Especially now. But he’s too tired and too horny to worry about food. Why have ramen when he has a meal right in front of him? Or a snack, as he often likes to call you. To which you roll your eyes, but there's no denying how he makes you blush.

You take back what you said about finding it easy to sleep. He’s moving around a bit too much for that. Gojo isn't subtle about it either. Nothing about the man is. He foregos subtly in favor of announcing nearly everything he does. Loudly. Who would dare stop him?

But you guess it's part of his charm. His dorky, sappy charm. You’ve kind of signed up for it, so you’re not complaining.

You scoot away from the edge of the bed a bit, thinking he needs more room. Gojo pulls you back to his chest, thinking you’re trying to run away from him.

“Quit squirming.” You hiss.

“Sorry Mochi,” he says, “just tryna get comfortable.”

And he really does mean it. But he’s been gone from you for so long that he's forgotten how nice your body feels against his. A little too nice, he’ll admit. Phone sex is nice, but it's not the same as the real thing. It gets old after a while. His hand doesn't quite compare to yours. Or the real thing. Something hard presses against your thigh from behind.

That's when it clicks. You just smell so nice. Your body is so warm against his. You look so nice in his shirt. Can you really blame him for getting hard?

You aren't sure he knows that you know. You shift a bit. It appears you’re only trying to get comfortable. His grip around your waist loosens, allowing you to settle a bit closer to him. You can't help it if your shirt rides up a bit, exposing the perfect curve of your ass. He prefers you in nothing at all, though the sight of you wearing his clothes is certainly a nice one. Any sight of you is. Gojo is shameless in the way he adores your body.

Once settled, his arms return to your waist. His head falls into the crook of your neck. He’s doing little to hide the tent he sports in his boxers. Maybe he thinks you don't notice. Or maybe he’s trying to ignore it.

“Stop that,” he says.

“I'm not doing anything,” you say, with the same evil giggle as before.

“Why do I not believe you?”

His lips find your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulsepoint. The sudden sensation of lips on your neck makes you squeal. In your ear he coos every sappy nickname in the book that makes you blush.

You hardly notice as his hand trails lower. Your legs part just enough for him to slip his hand between them. He does nothing but seek out your warmth. Yet.

A familiar tension returns to your stomach. It's not unpleasant.

So that's what he was doing. Not that you’re complaining.

“Missed you, Mochi,” he says, gasping at the wet feeling of your cunt, “missed you so much. You have any clue what it's like being around all those weird old men all day? For days on end, no end in sight?”

It always surprises you just how bad the man can be with words, yet how good he is with his mouth.

His fingers find your clit, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. Your breath catches in your throat. You can't deny how nice his long fingers feel inside of you.

“Seems like you’ve missed me too.” He says, his breath warm against your ear.

“Whatever you want to think, old man,” you say. Though you have missed him. You always do. But there's some fun to be had by teasing him.

“Old man?!” He sounds genuinely hurt. “Don't be like that. I know you like having me around.”

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

His fingers move to press into the tight entrance of your cunt, his thumb brushing across your clit. The soft gasp that leaves you is practically music to his ears. To give him credit, he is good with his hands.

“Did you think about me while I was gone,” he coos, “did you touch yourself while you did it? I did. Couldn't keep my mind off this sweet cunt of yours. I think I want a taste.”

Your only response is a soft moan. Heat pools low in your stomach, growing in intensity with each skilled movement of his hand. He moves so you can lay on your back. Your hands find the sheets, holding them in a death grip. Gojo nudges your legs further apart with one of his knees.

The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, and needy. He moans nearly as loud as you when you nibble on his bottom lip, hips lips parting, allowing the strong muscle of your tongue to explore his mouth.

Your hands work to undo the top few buttons of your shirt, exposing your breasts. His free hand comes up to grope appreciatively at your tits. Gojo has never been shy about how much he adores them. Or shy ever, to his credit. You’re his, and he would show you off to the world if you’d let him.

But sometimes he prefers to steal you into his domain, and hold you there. Close. Where you’ll always be at his side. The one place in this universe he can truly promise you’ll be safe.

You hardly notice as his kisses trail down your neck. Down the valley between your breasts. Working the last few buttons of your shirt open with his long fingers. What you do notice is the sudden absence of his hand.

Your legs part to give him room to settle between them. His head rests on your stomach. His warm breath tickles your skin.

"You gonna let me have a taste?" He asks, nipping at your thigh.

You swallow hard, eyes locked on him. Slowly, you nod.

You gasp at the feeling of his warm tongue, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. He's not touching you where you need him most. And that frustrates you. You buck your hips up towards his mouth, eliciting a soft laugh from him. He can't tease you too long. His cock is painfully hard, leaking against his thigh in his boxers. He can only hold himself back for so long.

You freeze at the feeling of a hot tongue against your clit.

Gojo eats pussy like a starving man, presented with his favorite meal. He does nothing short of savoring you. How you smell, how you taste, how you sound. He's shameless in how he adores this. Gojo moans nearly as loud as you at the taste of your cunt. Sweeter than his favorite dish. Meant to be savored.

You can't deny that he's good with his mouth. His tongue works circles around your clit, drawing gasps and moans from you.

Heat builds in your stomach, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. One that comes upon you far sooner than expected.

Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought.

Your thighs clench around his head as you cum hard. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, working you through it with his skilled mouth. He’d stay with his head between your legs forever if you’d let him. Which you don't, as overstimulation soon registers in your lust addled mind, and you shove his head away.

The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light, wet with saliva, and your own slick. He’s far from subtle in the way he licks his lips, or groans at your taste. He may have gotten a bit too excited. It's not unlike him to get carried away. How can he resist a fertile cunt like yours?

“I think you should taste yourself,” he says. His hands move to cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss. You taste yourself on his lips. His hardened cock grinds against his thigh.

“‘Toru-” you whine.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos. “Use your words.”

“Fuck me.” You say. “I need you, ‘Toru. I need your cock in me.”

“Why didn't you say so?” He says, though the desperation in his voice is palpable.

He wastes no time in shoving his boxers down his hips, freeing his cock.

He’s not the most intimidating in size, but his cock is nice, and fairly thick, with a slight upward curve. The patch of hairs towards the base are soft, and white. Generally you don't need a whole lot of prep to take him. Which is helpful when he can't keep his hands to himself, and insists on fucking you in the bathroom during dinner. As much as he likes to take his time with you, he’ll take you anywhere you’ll let him. At work, or over every flat surface of your apartment. Not a single room of your home was spared. Not that either of you mind.

“Gotta work you open first,” he says, “don't want you to be too tight, do we?”

Between his saliva, and your own slick, you put up little resistance. He’s able to slide one finger in. Then a second, with no issue. His fingers curve, stroking your g-spot. His thumb works soft circles around your sensitive clit as he works you open with his fingers. Really, this is unnecessary. Your cunt is practically dripping with your own arousal.

He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste of you. Gojo really has no shame.

The moan he lets out as he sheathes himself is truly sinful.

It's another moment before he starts thrusting.

Gojo needs a moment to collect himself. He’s been working himself up for hours if not days. All the nights he spent, thinking of what he’d do to you once he got home. He’s gone over this day in his head about a hundred times.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the room. His taunts turn into senseless babble. Strands of praise mixed with Gojo’s overall dorky remarks. Pleas of your name, calling you mochi, baby, honey, and every other sappy nickname he can think of. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He’s not going to let you leave this bed until you’re thoroughly marked up.

Tension grows in your stomach like a rubber band being stretched tight. Your previous orgasm has left you overly sensitive, and leaves another orgasm creeping up on you sooner than expected. His hand falls to your stomach, working lower until his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub.

He presses your legs further back, shoving them almost to your chest. The stretch leaves a pleasant burn in your hips. Your body isn't really meant to bend this way, though it’s not completely uncomfortable. It's not long before he has you into a full mating press, rutting against you desperately, fucking you into the mattress. The bed frame groans in protest with each of his thrusts. Deep, and unrelenting. Gojo’s cock curves in such a way that hits your sweet spots just right, leaving you writing under him.

“Gonna put a baby in you, Mochi,” he says, “gonna breed this pretty cunt of yours.”

You nod along desperately. You want nothing more than for him to cum inside, filling you completely.

He silences your moan with a kiss, his teeth clashing against yours. His tongue presses past your lips, exploring the wet cavern of your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him.

A line of saliva connects your lips as he pulls away.

“Not gonna ask you to take all of it,” he says, “but take everything I got.”

And with that, he can't hold back any longer, painting your womb white. Gojo’s cum is normally thick, and there's normally a lot of it. Today even moreso. Two weeks away hasn't helped with that. Cum runs down your thighs in streams, ruining your sheets.

The elders aren't going to be happy that he’s so reckless with his precious seed, but Gojo couldn't give a damn. The elders can talk all they want. That's all they're good for. He gets to cum in a warm place, and that's more than any of the others can say.

He practically collapses on top of you.

Gojo shifts so less of his body weight is on top of you. And though the room is rather warm, you find yourself nuzzling into his body, seeking out his warmth. His arms have always given you a sense of security, especially when wrapped up in them. They find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest.

For a moment the two of you lay there, basking in each other's warmth.

You’ll have to get up in a bit anyway. To clean yourself up, and change the sheets. And get a new shirt. Probably another one of Gojo’s. He’s never been against seeing you wear his clothes. They never stay on you for long, though.

You pry his arms off, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, but he notices, and tightens his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding rather offended.

“To get a drink,” you say, “I'm thirsty. Why? Do you want one too?”

“You think I’d let you go after just one round?” He asks. “You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve fucked you full of my cum.”

You're in for a long night.

#jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #not osha compliant #goose answers #ask!#anon #gojo is just very breedable

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || soft!dark baron zemo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : he’s a baron, you’re just the maid. you literally can’t afford to say no to him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (dubcon, oral m receiving, fingering, loss of virginity), innocence kink, ‘sir’ kink, quid pro quo harassment (raise in exchange for sex), zemo being kinda mean but then Soft again c:, slight degradation but it’s not verbal it’s like... with actions?? idk, sensual candy-feeding, more reconstructed sokovian (this time I used the cyrillic, latin and translations at the bottom)

You really, really needed this job.

That was what you reminded yourself when your boss, the Baron himself, came out of the master bathroom in only a robe, carrying a glass of vodka and staring down at where you were cleaning his floor.

He seemed to get a kick out of making you slightly uncomfortable like this, in those little ways that you were too naïve to really understand, but being a member of a Baron’s house staff was an opportunity too prestigious to squander.

Perhaps some would never see a maid’s job as prestigious, but compared to your other options, it was easily the best choice.

You didn’t look back up at him, afraid to see more than you bargained for, but his gaze made you want to tug down on the hem of your dress uniform… yet left you feeling paralyzed so you couldn’t actually do it.

He lingered there, standing right beside where you were polishing the hardwood, and the moment lasted far too long until you just had to say something.

“Should I stop, sir?” you asked awkwardly, your own voice sounding weaker out loud than it did in your head.

“No, keep cleaning,” he encouraged, finally stepping around you to take a seat in his lounge chair.

Even though you felt a bit odd about it, it wasn’t the first time he had watched you clean (just the first time while wearing so little), so you did your best to shrug it off and keep going, which you managed to do for a few minutes.

It got slightly more awkward when the area you had to clean was right by his feet, which made his staring all the more conspicuous as you tried to hold up your neckline so he couldn’t see down the uniform.

A crinkling sound caught your attention, and you looked up to see him toying with a wrapped candy, the lid off of the decorative silver vase on a credenza nearby. You’d always wondered what he kept in there...

He caught you looking, a smirk tugging at his lips as he raised an eyebrow. “A Turkish delight,” he explained as he waved the candy between his fingers. “They’re rather exquisite, and an unfortunate vice of mine. Would you like one?”

It seemed like an offer in earnest though you couldn’t imagine what would motivate him to share candy with his staff. His motives were always quite mysterious anyhow, and you didn’t see any harm in it, so you reached out to him and opened your palm to accept the candy.

He shook his head, his eyes getting a bit darker as their gaze pierced right through you. A sinking feeling filled your gut as you realized what he wanted, and you slowly opened your mouth.

He delicately placed the candy on your tongue, the flavor of the powdered sugar coating hitting you first.

When you closed your lips and hesitantly began to sink your teeth into it, the texture wasn’t what you expected at all— nor the flavor, which you were a little too poor to recognize as rosewater though you still appreciated the delicate floral notes.

It was delightful; you couldn’t help but smile as you continued to chew, and he smiled at you as well— significantly less mischievously than he could have. “Do you like it?” he asked.

You nodded, but froze when he reached up to wipe sugar off your lips with his thumb.

“I suppose you could never afford candy like that before,” he posited, sitting back again.

Swallowing the sticky remains of the sweet, you replied, “I don’t think I could afford it now, either, sir…”

For a second the glimmer in his eye made you wonder if you’d spoken out of turn, and you anxiously looked down to your hands in your lap as he leaned in a bit closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “Maybe you could, if you got a raise, hm?”

Confused about what he wanted from you, you simply nodded slightly.

“Would you like to earn one?”

Suddenly the aftertaste wasn’t so sweet anymore, and you got that strange icky feeling when you knew something was wrong but you didn’t know exactly what. “If… if a raise is a sign of a job well done,” you finally managed to form an answer, “then I’d like to do my job well, sir.”

“You do your job very well,” he assured, “I’m talking about a new job. Consider it… an opportunity for advancement.”

His hand reached down to slip around your wrist, gently pulling you up a bit until you were kneeling between his legs. You jumped a bit when your fingers grazed over his leg, and he kept moving your touch higher as he stared down at you. “I… um, don’t know how to do anything else, sir,” you stalled, heart racing slightly as you watched him guide your hand higher and higher up his leg, under the hem of the fluffy robe, past where you could see.

“I’ll teach you, don’t be afraid,” he whispered right against your ear, and you tried not to be but it was a bit scary when you felt him wrap your hand around his cock, so much warmer than the rest of him and growing harder in your palm.

A little, uneven exhale left your mouth when you didn’t mean it to, and he breathed along with you which helped to calm you slightly. “I’ve never… I don’t…” you stammered. “I’m not good at this.”

“You will be, it just takes practice,” he promised, sounding a bit more hoarse; you felt his precum smear over your fingers as he helped you stroke him, and it made your movements a little easier even if it made your gut twist harder.

He leaned back and relaxed in the chair, letting go of your hand to let you keep going on your own. It gave you a bit more room to breathe, but it left you with no excuse for your actions, no one else to blame when his legs spread and you saw his cock fully hard in all its pride and glory, flexing slightly in your hand whenever you reached the tip and moved back down.

Taking it as a sign you were on the right track, you kept going and occasionally gathered the bravery to look up at his face in search of approval. Each time you found him staring back at you with dark eyes, and it made you feel this most inexplicable feeling… almost like fear, but with something oddly pleasurable about it.

“You can use your mouth now,” he said like it was an offer, an allowance, but you didn’t even really know how to do that. You’d definitely heard about it before, from your more worldly friends, but your cheeks were heating up at the idea of trying and doing it totally wrong.

“Show me how, sir, please,” you requested weakly, and much to your relief he grinned widely.

“Okay, кошеня, I’ll show you,” he breathed, reaching up to cradle your face in his hand and guide you closer. “Open your mouth and I’ll put it in for you.”

You did as you were told even though it was definitely more intimidating this up close, thankful that you didn’t really taste much of anything when he put his swollen head on your outstretched tongue.

“Now close your lips and suck, not too hard, just like a candy,” he explained, hissing when you did your best to recreate what he said. You pulled back right away with wide eyes, thinking you might have hurt him.

“Am I doing it right?” you asked quickly. He seemed a bit irritated as he pulled you back down roughly, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

“Yes, you can’t stop until I tell you,” he explained. You wanted to apologize but that would’ve required stopping, too, so you just kept going and humming a bit whenever you tasted that slight saltiness at the back of your throat. “Блять, that’s right, see? I knew you’d be a quick learner.”

Happy to hear you were doing it properly, you sucked a bit harder and kept your lips slack so he could bob your head however he wanted.

When the tip bumped into the back of your throat, you gagged right away and figured you were definitely doing something wrong. But either he didn’t notice or didn’t mind, because he made you do it again and again— perhaps he even liked it, considering you heard a tense groan from above you and felt him hold your face a bit tighter.

“I’m going to come, кошеня,” he grunted, “and you need to swallow it all, okay? It’s worth a lot more than that expensive candy, I assure you. But don’t swallow it until I say so.”

You tightened your fingers where they clutched his thigh, since you couldn’t respond any other way. Not being able to breathe was beginning to make you light-headed, and the sounds of his quiet moans made a rare (but not entirely unfamiliar) feeling burn between your legs.

He swore a few more times, sometimes in English and sometimes in Sokovian, as he roughly used your mouth, and you didn’t realize he was coming until you felt it all threatening to spill out from your lips and around his member.

But you, being diligent as ever, were careful not to let a drop go to waste as he sighed and slowed down, guiding you slowly off of him.

As tempting as it was to swallow it already, especially since the taste was a little odd, you kept your lips sealed tight and blinked up at him, hoping the tears running down your cheeks wouldn’t bother him and waiting for further instruction.

“Open your mouth, show me,” he breathed, nostrils flaring as if he was angry (though you really hoped he wasn’t). He groaned proudly when you did so, sticking your tongue out and letting his seed gather there. “Блять, good job… you can swallow it now.”

You put your tongue back and swallowed, but you were a bit too slow and some of it dripped onto the floor first. He leaned forward slightly to look at it, tutting disapprovingly.

“That just won’t do, you need to clean that up,” he explained. You turned back to reach for your cleaning supplies but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “No, sweetheart, not like that. With your mouth, same way you made the mess..”

“Oh,” you whispered, leaning down and lapping up the drops with your tongue, noticing that it was a bit closer to room temperature now which made it taste worse such that your nose crinkled at the flavor. Still, you swallowed it, too, and sat back up to look at him.

You wanted to ask if you did well, but considering the way he was smiling at you while he caught his breath, his exposed chest rising and falling along with that necklace he seemed to wear all the time, made you confident enough that he was happy with your work, and you smiled slightly.

“I think you’ve almost earned your raise,” he broke the silence, and your smile fell. There’s more?! “Why don’t you get up and bend over the bed.”

Your throat was a little sore now, so your shocked and empty swallow stung a bit, but you couldn’t help it; for all your inexperience you had a few ideas about what that meant.

“Sir, I—”

“Did I not speak clearly?” he snarled, making you cower slightly. “Get up. And bend over the bed. Pull up that little skirt for me, too.”

Even though an uncomfortable shudder crawled up your spine, you nodded and stood up, finding your legs a bit shakier than they should’ve been.

You’d made his bed a thousand times but never thought to lay on it, so you felt a little strange bending yourself over the edge, and you tried to avoid meeting his gaze as you reached back to pull your uniform up to your hips. You heard him hum but didn’t hear him get out of the chair, and you wondered if he was going to do anything at all.

“Are you… just going to look?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” he answered quickly, “I’m going to fuck you. But I’m going to do it on my own time. You can wait.”

And he sure did take his time, eating one more candy and finishing off his tumbler of vodka before he finally stood up and shed his robe; you felt his hands on your butt first, fingertips slipping under your panties delicately only to roughly tear them off. You squealed slightly at that, biting your lip to keep it down, but he heard you and chuckled as he slapped your bare ass.

“I knew you were hiding something lovely underneath your uniform, кошеня,” he sighed, “I may need to make sure you never hide yourself from me again. I always wanted to make you clean the house naked.”

Another spank made you wince and lurch forward, but another pang of heat hit between your legs, too— you hadn’t expected to enjoy this so much, but after all the anticipation you just needed him to get it over with.

Even if you honestly didn’t know that much about the ‘it’ he intended to do to you.

“How much do you know about sex?” he asked bluntly, apparently reading your mind somehow.

“Sex,” you repeated shakily, “is… something husbands and wives do…”

“Right,” he agreed, “but is that all you know? Do you even know how good you can feel?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, reaching down to slide his fingers slowly over your pussy, your legs quivering right away. When he focused on one spot, rubbing in circles gently, your back arched of its own accord.

“Have you ever touched yourself here? Made yourself come?” he continued, pressing down a bit harder until you whimpered.

“N-no, sir,” you breathed, squirming as you felt yourself approaching the edge of… something, something you never knew you needed.

But of course, he had to stop just then and push his two fingers inside you as you cried out. “Just that hurts you?” he realized, watching you nod and pout. “Oh, кошеня, you have no hope of taking my cock… you may not be able to get your raise after all.”

“Please, sir,” you whimpered, “I can take it, I’ll be good— please…”

He twisted his fingers inside you and your legs quivered but you were determined to prove you could do this, so you ignored the sting and kept on breathing, hardly capable of believing how deep his fingers reached.

A third finger made your eyes start to roll back in your head, especially when all of them curled against a spot that made your toes curl inside the sensible heels you were made to wear at work each day. Oddly enough, you found yourself rocking back onto his fingers in search of more, wanting him to push harder on that spot until you could finally reach that feeling you were blindly searching for.

“You need it so badly, кошеня,” he growled, “I’m trying to be gentle with you. Is that not what you want?”

“J-just a little more, please,” you begged, whining when he instead pulled them all out and left you painfully empty.

“I’ll give you more, don’t you worry about that,” he promised cryptically, and you gasped at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your opening. You were so wet that as he slid his length over your folds, you coated him with your arousal in mere moments. “I think you’re ready for me, sweetheart.”

You, meanwhile, weren’t so convinced; your gut sank as you tried to imagine how something as thick as his cock would ever fit inside you, but he didn’t consult your opinion on the matter before he lined himself up and pushed forward.

He was kind enough to move slowly, leaning down to wrap your body in his as he filled you. His hands slipped around and clutched yours, and you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was meant to soothe or restraint you.

“Бля, ти така гарна,” he breathed, squeezing your fingers between his. You turned to rest your face on the silky comforter, a tear still making its way down your cheek which he tenderly kissed away. “Don’t cry, it’s all right,” he whispered. “I’m not going to move yet, just breathe. It’s not going to hurt much longer.”

Tightening your jaw and breathing through your teeth was the best you could manage at the time, trying your best to relax since every time you tensed up, it hurt more.

“Так тугий,” he hissed against your ear as he finally found the end of you and his hips met the back of your legs, “і все моє.”

He stayed still until the pain faded, though you still winced slightly when he eventually did move again, pulling back only to push forward and fill you deeper, if possible, than before.

You felt him hitting that spot again, the one he found with his fingers before, and your whines started to soothe into moans and gasps.

“See? I knew you would like it,” he whispered proudly, “I knew you’d take me so well.”

He trailed kisses in abstract patterns over your neck and shoulders, gentle at first but soon enough becoming wet and sharp with his tongue and teeth, the pace of his thrusts picking up along with it.

“Так добре, така добра дівчина,” he groaned, “fuck, do you feel how deep am I inside you, sweetheart? That’s how deep my come will be when I’m finished.”

Honestly, it was starting to feel so good that you couldn’t find the will to protest that.

“And then you’ll be mine forever,” he added, under his breath, so quiet that you could barely hear it. But you did hear it, and you couldn’t explain why it made you moan louder, or made your walls grip him encouragingly.

Your toes curled again, your legs even started kicking a bit, when he slammed into you every time, the sound of his skin on yours and of your drenched channel being filled echoing around the ornate bedroom. Thoughts of everything wrong about this were banished as your mind became a blank slate, you couldn’t even form words anymore (not that you were trying to) as your mouth fell slack and your body became a pliant vessel for his desire.

The edge was so close now, and you wondered if you should try to stave it off— but before you could even consider it, he bit down on your shoulder and you were pushed right over all at once, gasping his name as pleasure overtook you from your head to your toes.

“Good girl, keep going,” he instructed roughly, “don’t stop coming for me.”

You couldn’t if you tried.

Tears fell again, but for entirely different reasons than the first two times. He whispered praises in your ear, in a few languages you understood and a few you didn’t, keeping you falling into it as long as he wanted you to. You were so helpless to him now, your body going limp and your eyes fluttering shut, and you didn’t even mind it at all.

It went on for quite some time, it seemed, and though his stamina was impressive it was entirely unnecessary since you had already exhausted yourself of whatever maximum number of orgasms you could have in a row.

Finally, his desperation started to kick in and you could feel him getting rougher and losing his rhythm as his moans got louder yet deeper. “I’m about to fill you up, кошеня, are you ready?”

You barely managed to nod through the fog, and it only took him a few more seconds before he squeezed your hands just a bit too tight and stopped moving. There was a little delay before you felt the heat of it inside you, the feeling impossible to describe but instantly addictive. As if you weren’t already feeling full before, now you felt stuff to the brim, and even when he pulled out you could still feel it— even when most of it seemed to drip down your thighs.

“There you go again, making another mess,” he sighed, “and this time on such a lovely comforter… I won’t make you lick it up this time, you look too pretty laying there fucked-out and braindead.”

Those words probably should’ve encouraged you to move and prove him wrong, but instead you were happier than ever to just lay there and soak in the afterglow.

He laid beside you on the bed, pulling your body to rest on top of his, stroking your hair while he caught his breath. “You won’t just be getting a raise, sweetheart, but a very important promotion,” he mumbled.

As enticing as that sounded, up until that moment you’d forgotten about the raise entirely.

кошеня = kitty/kitten

Блять - fuck

Бля, ти така гарна = fuck, you’re so beautiful

Так тугий, і все моє = so tight, and all mine

Так добре, така добра дівчина = so good, such a good girl

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #dark!baron zemo x reader

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spectaclespencer · 3 years

Text

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Note

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

Payback | Dean Winchester

✦ pairing — Dean Winchester x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.2k

✦ request — I was wondering if you could do a dean winchester imagine that is like the reader is like young and has been with the boys since she was 18 and now she’s like around 21 or 22. She lives at the bunker with them and helps with research. So, basically she’s fallen in love with dean and has been in love with him for years. She never says anything because she watches him go after all these skinny girls and thinks she will never be good enough since she’s big and doesn’t think he’d ever like her. Then one day she basically just reaches a breaking point and it comes out to dean, and after some angst they get together. Then maybe some fluff or smut?

✦ warnings — angst, age gap (reader is in her twenties while Dean is in his forties), reader is kinda insecure at times, language, mentions of past sexual partners, mentions of a past ilegal relationship, a twinge of jealousy, suggestive stuff, some fluff.

════════════════════════

You heard laughs on the other side of the bar, right under the Bud Light neon sign. Unable to stop yourself, you looked that way.

A small friend group had erupted in laughter. There was a tall guy in the middle of two redheads — you couldn’t see very well, but you could tell he had caught you staring.

So you deviated your eyes to the right, where the bartender served one of your companions another beer. A couple of beers in fact. Dean was talking to a woman, undoubtedly charming her as he rested his elbow on the bar and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

You couldn’t look any longer, you would be sick if you did. He should’ve been doing that to you.

Realistically, you were probably twice her size or more, but you still could dream.

That was the problem, truly — you only could dream. Dean would quit hunting before even considering seeing you as a potential conquest. By this point, you should have been used to it.

Your eyes went back to the friend group from earlier. The tall guy held your gaze for a moment — you couldn’t figure out his eye color, or what his eyes showed under the uneven light, but you damn well could see he was handsome.

Not wanting to give him the wrong impression, you turned to your side and picked up your jacket.

Maybe you should also start to pay attention to the men who were actually interested.

But they weren’t Dean Winchester.

Comparing every man you met to him was a reflex, just like comparing yourself to the women he picked up at bars.

The Bunker was eerie every hour of the day, but there was something especially uncanny about an empty Bunker in the middle of the night. Devastatingly so.

Turning on the lights as you made your way towards the library, you made a beeline towards the kitchen. You weren’t in the mood for drinking anymore or for food, but you knew you needed to drink water.

Taking refugee in the library, you looked around a few news sites to see if you found something. It wasn’t difficult to find something shady or weird going on, but filtering out conspiracy theories was a pain in the ass.

Eventually, you found just what you were hoping you would. Dean and Sam rarely took you with them for hunts, but perhaps you could convince them this time to at least let you watch from the car.

Sam came home a little later, tipsy enough to be in a good mood. You told him about the case you had found, he said he would check it out in the morning and wished you a goodnight.

Dean didn’t come home. Why would he when he could have literally anybody he wanted?

You didn’t get any sleep. You had hoped that listening to an audiobook would lull you, but like most things, it wasn’t enough to even entertain you.

You were sick of this, of being into somebody who would never be into you. And who the fuck loses sleep for somebody who doesn’t see them as anything more than a sibling? You, apparently.

You needed coffee and a hug, but coffee by itself would have to do.

To your luck, Dean was already in the kitchen when you entered. His hair was wet which meant he was, thankfully, fresh out of the shower.

Instead of greeting you, he asked, “Where’s Sammy?”

You shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“He took the car.”

You didn’t even know Sam had brought the car home the night before. “He must have found the case interesting.”

“There’s a case?”

“Kind of. It’s not too far away from here,” you explained, “but I wasn’t sure it was something up our alley. I guess Sam thought it was.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you weren’t here.” You could tell your answer offended him. Good.

“You should have called.”

“Babying you isn’t my job, Dean.”

“Funny you say that when babysitting you isn’t mine and yet...”

“Can you stop treating me like a fucking child for two seconds?”

“Stop acting like one and I might.”

“God, you’re fucking insufferable. I can’t believe I’m in love with you!”

You didn’t know whose eyes were wider, if his or yours.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

He tried to be nonchalant, but Dean couldn’t even move. “Sweetheart, come on. It’s okay.”

You effusively shook your head. “It’s isn’t.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me what to do or how to fucking react.” You were yelling now. Why were you yelling over this?

“I— well, I don’t know what to say.” He stuttered. “I mean, you are a kid. I could be your dad who had a kid at a young age, okay? This is fucking crazy.”

“You weren’t supposed to know. It’s humiliating.”

“I’m not going to give you shit about it.”

“No, you are. And then you’re gonna go and fuck somebody who’s actually hot and interesting and you’re gonna make me feel worse.”

“Hey, you’re interesting.”

“I’m not. And even then, you don’t go for them because they’re interesting, do you?”

“What do you want me to say?”

You wanted him to say that you were attractive too, that he would go for you in a heartbeat.

“Nothing.”

Both of you remained silent then. He had many chances to make it right, to have enough pity for you to at least apologize for not realizing you were in love with him sooner.

“ I’m gonna go,” you announced, having decided that this wasn’t worth it. The humiliation hurt, but his reaction stung.

He reached over and stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait.”

“What now?” Your voice broke and your lip trembled. Not now, you thought. But now it was.

“Don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it.”

He hugged you to his chest. “I hate seeing you cry.”

His arms were tightly wrapped around you, a hand on the back of your head and the other on your upper back.

“You’re making me feel even more stupid,” you admitted through tears.

Dean sighed heavily. His hand twitched against your clothed skin as he tried to keep himself from rubbing his face. “You know, maybe you need a break.”

“Are you really trying to get rid of me already?”

He didn’t deny it. So you pushed him off you and stormed out. You couldn’t even get a fucking consolation hug.

════════════════════════

You liked to think you were doing a good job avoiding him. It wasn’t like he spent that much time at home either way.

Expecting him to care had been too much, it seemed. You hadn’t wanted him to beg, or even fantasized about him chasing after you — you just wanted him to care, to at least told you he would forget about it or pretend you hadn’t said anything.

Sam entered the library, feigning interest in the stack of books you had piled on the table two nights ago.

He stalled, opening the one on top as though he hadn’t seen it before.

You shuffled in your seat. Waiting for whatever he would say.

He cleared his throat so you’d look up. You did.

“Dean and I are going out for a drink or two. Want to come?”

“No, I’m gonna watch something on my laptop and go to bed early.”

Sam gave you a worried look. “Well, if you need anything...”

“Have fun.”

Maybe Dean had been right, maybe you needed a break, and maybe —just maybe— this wasn’t the place you were meant to be at.

But you wanted to be there, and you wanted him. It fucking sucked that you would never get what you wanted just because you weren’t thin.

Story of your life.

You stayed in the library longer than you planned and eventually your tv marathon was held there. You had everything you needed and the chairs were comfortable enough.

Your laptop rested on the other side of the table as you leaned onto said table with your forearms and laid your head on your arm.

A knock on the thick door startled you. Looking up, you found green eyes.

“Did I scare you?”

You pressed the space bar to pause your show. “I wasn’t expecting you guys to come back early.”

“Sammy left with somebody so he’s not coming home tonight.”

You hummed, unsure as to what you were supposed to say. Should you say that you were happy for Sam? Should you ask why he hadn’t left with somebody too?

Dean spoke before you could come up with something. “Can we, uh, talk?”

Seeing you nod, Dean approached the table. He didn’t sit down, forcing you to crane your neck.

“I’ll find somewhere else to live,” you assured him.

He frowned, looking down as he searched for your now shifty eyes. “You’re leaving?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” He rubbed his palm against his forehead. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

You twisted your mouth. “It’s a little late for that.”

He hurriedly said, “I don’t want you to leave. You’re part of the family.”

“I think I deserve space to move on.”

A groan slipped past his throat and lips, rumbling in his chest. He was growing desperate. “Look... I’m trying to be the responsible adult here because God knows you won’t be.”

“So now I’m an adult?”

“It was never my intention to treat you like a child. I just wanted to put some distance between us.”

“You could have said so.” You didn’t think you would need to state the obvious to somebody as smart as Dean.

“I didn’t want things to be weird or to give the impression that I could take advantage of you if you were too close. I would never do that.”

Not proud enough to pretend you knew what he was talking about, you admitted, “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“You’re pretty,” he blurted. “Really fucking pretty and interesting and so attractive that’s kinda unfair. And you’re also too young.”

“Dean.”

“Mmmh?”

“Kiss me.”

“Weren’t you listening to me?”

“Just kiss me,” you insisted. “We’ll forget about it if it doesn’t feel right.”

Dean took the chair beside yours out and pulled it to the side. His eyes didn’t meet yours as he leaned in, but they did when his nose brushed yours.

He softly placed his lips on top of yours. You saw his eyes screw shut before you closed yours. It was short and sweet, and when he parted from you, you feared you would have to go back to hide the way you felt about him.

Grabbing you by the waist, Dean made you stand up. He wrapped an arm around you while you rested your hands on his sides as a reflex.

He kissed you again, hard. So hard he unintentionally pushed you against the table. His tongue tasted of whiskey and those bacon-flavored chips you had never had the heart to tell him weren’t that good.

You brought a hand up to the back of his neck, kissing him deeply.

Dean took advantage of the fact that he had you trapped between the table and his body to caress yours. He started with your back and dragged his hands down to your ass.

His hands traveled to your torso, where he could surely feel your belly up, fingers toying with the hem of your black t-shirt.

You stopped his fingers from lifting your top and pulled away from the kiss. “Wait.”

“Having second thoughts?” he breathlessly asked.

“I’m not what you’re used to,” you explained through ragged breathing. “At all.”

”Really?”

You nodded, ashamed. One thing was him knowing how big you were and other was him seeing it for himself.

“Don’t take this the wrong way...”

“That’s a great way to let me know you’re about to insult me.” Fuck. You were getting defensive again — what a way to kill the mood.

“I’m not!” he defended himself. “I was going to point out that you’ve been around for a relatively short amount of time to know what I’m used to.”

“I’ve never seen you with a fat person before.”

“And I’ve never seen you with somebody older than you before.”

Was he playing dumb? “Of course you have.”

“Huh? When?”

“That guy in Texas was well in his thirties. And I dated somebody in their twenties when I was 16, I’m not too proud of that one, but—“

He interrupted you. “Nevermind. Shut up.” Dean kissed you again, bringing you flush against him.

You smiled against his mouth. “Is somebody jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. Serves you right.”

“You’re evil.” He bit down your bottom lip and pulled on it.

“It’s just payback, I promise.”

Dean snorted. “Can’t say I don’t deserve it.”

You remained silent, allowing him to dissipate the tension. You would let him do whatever he wanted, regardless of the outcome, but you were too scared to say it.

You didn’t have to.

“Hey.” He cupped your face. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he assured you. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “We can take our time.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

It’s a book Steve’s actually read.

Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.

His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.

It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.

He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.

Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.

Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.

But, whatever.

He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.

Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.

Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore.

Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-

He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.

One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and

“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”

Hargrove.

Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.

“Can it, dickhead.”

To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.

Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.

Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.

“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”

“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”

“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”

“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”

He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.

It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.

“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”

“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”

The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.

He needed Kate now more than ever.

“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”

“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”

Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.

“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”

Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.

You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.

“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”

“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”

Billy just stared at him.

Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.

“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.

And then Billy did something very unexpected.

Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.

He lit up a cigarette.

And then passed it to Steve.

Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.

Which was really long.

Swimmer’s lungs. And that.

He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”

“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”

“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”

Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.

Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.

Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.

Domesticated.

“You’re staring at me.”

Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.

Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.

Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.

He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.

“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”

Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”

“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”

“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”

And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.

Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?

No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights

“She’s not worht it, y’know.”

Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.

“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.

There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.

Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.

“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”

“Hey.”

Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.

“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”

Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence again.

Kate was back to the chorus.

The song was almost over.

“You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”

Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.

Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.

“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.

“Good. Very good.”

Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.

“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.

Steve thought they were going to kiss again.

He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.

But Billy just grinned again.

And skipped the song.

#yes i know when nancy and steve break up billys only been in town for like three days but its my fic and ill make up a timeline if i want to #yeah i call people dumb dumb all the fucking time so i had to put it in #this idea came from me listening to this song on a loop for fifteen minutes in the parking lot before work and crying before going in to wor #k #also i've never read wuthering heights everything i know abt it is from the song and this one fic i read that mentioned it #also the way that this is probably technically a song fic #i hate it #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #this is so self indulgent omg

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please-buckme · 3 years

Text

The View From The Fire Escape. (1/3)

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: alcohol? Kinda fluffy.

A/n: Inspo. Came from @buckysm3talarm and *wink wink* *nudge nudge* it’s her birthday! Love you girl! 💖 Also, depending on the feedback I may do a part 2!

Part 2 // Part 3

(Not my gif! I’m sorry @detectiveupton ! I tried to do it the proper way and I couldn’t find it!)

Working at a dinner in Brooklyn sucked. It really sucked. Especially when you work the late shift and don’t get home till just before the sun was about to rise. Luckily, tonight your boss decided to be nice and cut you a bit earlier- 3am instead of 5am; what a gem.

When you finally twist the key to your front door, feeling the air of your apartment on your skin, a loud sigh escapes you. There’s a high or maybe more of a rush you get when you first get home. It’s comparable to taking your socks off in bed; relaxing.

You shrug your jacket from your shoulders, kick your all-stars from your aching feet and change into something comfy. Once you’re dressed down and into more comfortable clothes, you go to the fridge. The feeling of opening your fridge was always underwhelming, since you were barely paying rent you hardly ever had a full fridge. Spotting one of the two beers you had left, you grab it and head to your fire escape.

This had become a nightly thing over the past few months. A rather attractive guy moved in directly across the street from you. He was always up, like you. You honestly started to think he was a vampire or something. There were lights always on, and if they weren’t on the tv was. You checked your watch, 4:30. You should be right on time tonight.

The guy, who you learned’s name is Bucky, woke up every morning from a dead sleep at 4:30am. Had to be nightmares. He was always a little psyched out when he’d wake up. You never asked why. You loved having company at this hour, so you didn’t want to scare him away by asking too personal of questions.

4:31am hit and you sigh, taking a swig from your beer in defeat. You were about to call it a night when he suddenly popped up.

His breathing was heavy, clearly panting. Of course you were curious as to why these nightmares happened so often, but at the same time you knew if he wanted to tell you he would.

Once he calmed down, repositioned himself on the floor, put his arms over his knees, and steadied his breathing, you called out to him.

It was the coolest thing, so you thought. You’d whistle as low as you possibly could, getting louder and louder until he’d hear you. You never go past the first pitch before he’d shoot his head up towards you.

He smirks, walking to his fridge for a beer and then heading to his fire escape as well.

“That never ceases to amaze me.” You laugh, taking another sip of your drink. “How the fuck do you do that.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” He grins, “You’re home early.”

“Ah, you noticed.” You say, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Boss decided to be nice and cut me two hours earlier than usual.”

“Wow, what’d you do with those two whole hours?” He asked, smirking and leaning against the railing of his fire escape.

“Waited for you to wake up.” You admit, laughing into your bottle before taking another sip.

“I guess I’m sort of a creation of habit.” He chuckles. His body relaxes, now sitting in the chair behind him as he fiddles with his bottle.

A silence falls over the both of you, which is normal. Sitting out here in silence just knowing he’s there is more relaxing to you than going in and watching tv. It didn’t hurt that he was half naked either. He is yards away from you but you could still see his perfectly chiseled features. Of course you also noticed the metal arm, but never brought it up. You felt like the arm and the nightmares go into the ill-talk-about-it-when-I-want-to-about-it file, never to be mentioned.

“Why’d he cut you early?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh.. uh, it’s my birthday.” You say sort of nonchalantly. “Well, it was my birthday. I guess it’s technically over now.”

“Ah, someone who works on their birthday has a good work ethic. That’s sexy.” He grins. The deep rasp of his voice makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Happy Birthday, y/n.”

You giggle, a little caught off guard, to say the least.

“Or just shows you how broke I actually am. And thank you.” You both laugh now. It’s a little awkward now because- FUCK DID HE JUST CALL ME SEXY- is all your brain can process at the moment.

Bucky was a natural flirt, that was obvious. Sometimes you’d be able to spit something back at him, but tonight you were almost desperate for him to flirt with you. You’d never seen Bucky up close or anywhere but his fire escape, but you’d come to have a small crush on him.

The nights when he’d sleep in bed you wouldn’t see him. There was internal conflict there. You were glad he’d be sleeping in an actual bed, you assumed, rather than the floor, but he was the only thing that made your dreadful late night shifts worth working. Sometimes you hoped he’d come in to see you, but he never did.

You've been waiting so long for him to make a move that you’re now chomping at the bits. Fortunately, it’s your birthday and you were feeling ballsy. You drank that beer way too fast, meaning you were slightly tipsy and you craved meeting him. Craved knowing how good he probably smells after a morning shower. Craved feeling the cold metal of his fingers against your skin as he ran them along your side, Dirty Dancing style. So, you broke the silence this time,

“You know, I’m off tomorrow if you-“ you trailed off, losing your confidence towards the end.

“Oh, you don’t wanna waste your free time on me.” He sighs, smiling but it’s filled with conflict, pre usual. Such a pretty face to be hidden behind so much remorse.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

“I suppose.” He says bluntly.

“Nothing crazy, Buck. Just beer and football or ballet. Whatever you’re into.” You chuckle at yourself. You expected to see Bucky laughing with you but when you looked up, he wasnt. He’s up from his chair and leaning over the railing again, seeming almost freighted? You couldn’t tell.

“Buck?” He asks. “Oh shit, it just kinda slipped out. I’m so-“

“No, please,” he interrupted. “Please don’t apologize. I’ll be out front of your building around 11am. Sound good?” He seemed to be on the brink of tears but also happy.

You wanted to know everything about this man. The closer you got, though, the more you realized you’d probably know everything and nothing at all about him. He was those knotted up earphones that were a pain to unravel but worth untangling in the long run.

“11am sounds perfect.” you give him a half smile, not wanting to come off too eager. “I should probably get to bed then, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. Me too.”

You got up, stretched then turned towards your apartment, but not before whispering, “Goodnight, Buck.”

You didn’t know what the nickname held for him and he knew that. It just felt so good and sounded so sweet coming for your lips.

“Goodnight, y/n.” Bucky whispered.

Masterlist

A/n: I hope you enjoyed whatever this was lol depending on the feedback I may do a part 2!

Taglist: @haydens-moles @animefangirl425 @valkyrieofthehighfae @aurora-sweet @dinos-lavapit @hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sebbystanlover-vk @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @nebulastarr @meegggoooo @skylerrae-solo @alyssa-skywalker @blondekel77 @gogolucky13 @buckysm3talarm @heavenlyseb @writersbuck @badassbuchanan @buckyownsmylife @buckysdolls @notwithoutbarnes @cherryblossomskye @ladyfallonavenger

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inlovewiththefictionalcharacters · 3 years

Text

SURPRISE

Request: Have you ever seen Defending Jacob if so I would like to request for a sugar daddy Andy Barber x reader please and thankyou ☺️

Pairing: (Sugar daddy) Andy Barber x Reader

Warning(s): Language; Smut (kinda); 18+; Angst; Spanking (sorry bout that); Not proofread; Mean Andy Barber (kinda); Reader is of age (18+).

To the Anon who sent me this: I hope you like this one. I’m so sorry it took a lot of time to write this, but I was preoccupied with some other stuff. I hope this meets your expectations. I can only hope that you will like it.

A/N: I don’t know what monstrosity I wrote. I apologize in advance... I never wrote anything with sugar baby - sugar daddy settings and I didn’t find many fics on it either. I hope you guys will like it.

*****

She never thought that she’ll end up doing this in her life. Becoming a sugar baby to someone. She didn’t want to do it. She didn’t like decision, but she don’t even have any other options left. With having no support from her parents, just because she chose to take an entirely different career path from what her parents wanted her to, her parents practically disowned her, kicking her to the curb.

That left her juggling two part time jobs along with college that left her so exhausted that sometimes, all she wanted was to never get out of her bed. Her paychecks barely met her rent and other expenses, apart from the tuition fees. But here she was, being a sugar baby to this man - Andy Barber.

She met Andy Barber in the most unconventional way when compared to how many other sugar babies met their sugar daddies. The first time she met him was when she was working on her shift at the diner and he happened to be at the place then. She ended up serving him for that night. The first time, Andy was polite and smiled at her whenever their gazes met. He was all alone by himself.

The second time she met him, was once again during her shift at the diner and coincidentally happened to serve him, yet once again. He was alone again and the diner didn’t have many customers that night. Andy started conversing with her, asking her how her day was and other random stuff that none of the customers she served to did.

The third time she met him was once again at the same diner which was practically empty that night, apart from the the cute teenage couple that was all googly eyes at each other. Instead of her, her coworker walked towards him to take his order and serve him, but then returned back to the counter with a confused expression, making Y/N look at her with a frown.

“He asked for you, today. You can cover him. I’ll take care of the teenage lovebirds” Tara said.

With a smile, Y/N walked towards Andy to take his order.

That night, Andy asked her to join him. She stilled hearing that. That’s very unusual and she didn’t know what to do. A quick glance at Tara who also happens to be near enough to hear what Andy asked received her a nod from Tara.

Nervously, she looked at Andy and said “Let me just place your order. I’ll join you after that.”

Andy smiled in response. After spending some time with her, Andy paid for the both of them, much to her disdain and walked out of the diner after thanking her for giving him company. But what surprised her the most that day was finding Andy outside the diner when she completed her shift. He was just standing there, waiting for her and she blinked at him, flabbergasted and slightly taken aback to see him there. With a gentle smile, he approached her and convinced her to let her take him somewhere else.

They ended up in a quaint little ice cream parlor with a scoop each of their favorite ice-creams and yet again, he managed to pay the bill before she could. The place was empty, given the late hour and they still took their seats far away to not be heard or disturbed by anyone who could pop in.

That’s when Andy broke the news to her, him propositioning to be her sugar daddy. Y/N was shocked to hear this. She didn’t know what to expect when he took her there, but she definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Look, I just want you to give me company, that’s pretty much it. I don’t expect anything else from you. It sucks going home to no one, living alone for these many years. I just want you to be with me whenever I want to” he told her.

He told her that he wanted to spoil her, shower her with gifts. He told her that she wouldn’t have to worry about paying rents or making ends meet and he’ll be the one to worry her, also popping out that she’s going to live with him rather than that shitty hole of an apartment she lived in. He told her that she wouldn’t have to juggle those part time jobs anymore and can invest that time on her career and him.

The career aspect of his speech must have been what made her think about the deal. If not for that, she would have probably said a flat out no. But still, she asked him some time to think about it to which she agreed. But that didn’t stop him from meeting her everyday, giving her a glimpse of how her life could be if she agreed to be his sugar baby, adding his charm to everything he did.

That must have been it and within a week, she agreed to the deal and by the end of the month, Andy had her settled in his house. It felt odd, still did to find most of her favorite things handed out to her, without even asking for it. All she had to do was just be with him whenever he’s home and let him take care of her. That included going shopping, buying gifts and taking her out to places in and out of the city, impromptu included. But the best part was hanging out with each other that slowly turned into cuddle sessions. Both of them loved those.

It was during one of those moments when she first kissed him. It was a spur of the moment kiss. Both of them were cuddling, looking at a cheesy romantic movie that she put on. They were talking about a scene in the movie and turned their heads to look at each other while talking. She didn’t even know when they stopped talking and gazed into each others’ eyes, glancing at each others’ lips too. Without even thinking, she pressed her lips against his.

Andy was still for a moment. When she realized what she did, she was quick to break apart from him, apologizing profusely, but got cut off by him when he dragged her back to him and kissed the hell out of her. One thing lead to another and the both of them ended up rolling in the sheets on the bed.

She didn’t notice when things got complicated on her part, but when she did, it was too late. She caught feelings for Andy and didn’t even know when she fell in love with him. She loved everything about him, inside and out. That’s when her fear started too. She feared about the time she had to part ways with him. She wasn’t a fool. Arrangements like these almost never lasts long. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to mend her broken heart and live with it.

That’s when she started holding herself back, going reserved and formal making Andy frown every time she did it. When he asked her about it, she just brushed him off, saying it was just the stress due to college. But that continued even after the exams, days after the summer break has started. That’s when Andy thought that it was about time they go somewhere out and took her to the Caribbean. A getaway from all their worries where all they have to do is enjoy the sun and themselves.

It didn’t escape Andy’s scrupulous observation - the way she was behaving, like she was holding back, scared of something. He knew something was bugging her and he made a resolve to fix that before they leave, back to Newton.

Andy was sitting in the balcony of the room they were in, enjoying the gorgeous sunset that it offered along with the glorious view of the beach when Y/N awkwardly walked out, to the balcony.

“Hey, you” Andy greeted, looking at her and was met with a shy and awkward smile and a small hey was told to him.

She was about to sit on the chair beside him when he grabbed her hand, saying “Sit with me,” and pulling her into his lap.

She was stiff for a moment but eventually leaned into him, the both of them enjoying the sunset while he kept caressing her hair, her back and her arm. He smiled when she nuzzled into him, but it quickly turned into a frown when she suddenly stilled.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking down at her.

“N-Nothing” she replied and quickly stood up.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting straight when he saw her leaving.

“Inside” she replied and walked back into the room.

Cussing under his breath, he stood up and followed her.

“Look, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me” he told her.

“Nothing’s bothering me, Andy” she told, letting her hands run through the non-existent creases on her sundress.

Andy narrowed his eyes at her.

“Seriously, Y/N?!” “Now you’re lying to me?” “Is it something that I did?” “Tell me what’s bothering you!” he kept asking and telling her but she didn’t say anything, dodging all of his questions.

“I said nothing’s bothering me, Andy!” she exclaimed.

“Bullshit!” he called out her bluff.

She just huffed rolling her eyes and he narrowed his, looking at her.

“I need some air” she muttered and turned around to leave, but he was quick to walk towards her with huge steps and grabbed her arm.

“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s bothering you so much” Andy said.

“Seriously, Andy! Let go!” she exclaimed, tugging her arm from his grip, but he tightened his hold on her and walked towards the bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and within the blink of the eye, she was across his knee. He raised the skirt of her dress, bunching it up by her torso and pulled her panties down her legs, puddling them on the floor.

“Andy! What are you doing?!” she gasped.

He just caressed her naked butt, squeezing it every now and then while she kept wiggling, trying to get out of his hold, but his grip was tight on her.

“Y/N” he said, his voice calm, reminding her of the calmness that comes before a storm.

“Now, tell me what’s bothering you” Andy told her.

“Nothing!” she exclaimed, lying through her teeth, still wiggling.

Andy’s eyes hardened and he grabbed her arms by the wrists and held them at her back, obstructing her movements.

“Fine then. If you don’t tell me, I’ll get it out of you, myself” he said coldly and his hand left her butt but her breath was quickly knocked out of her lungs when his hand met her butt-cheek with a sharp slap.

That was the first time he ever did that to her. The cheek burned while her lips parted in shock and her entire body stilled for a second. Andy caressed the other cheek and slapped it too, with more force than the first spank and a low whimper got caught in her throat. He kept delivering the spanks to each cheek alternatively. She didn’t know how many times he did that. She didn’t bother to count. Her mind was too much in shock to even register that.

After some time, Andy stopped spanking her, seeing the tears that pooled in her eyes. He hated doing this, hurting her but he didn’t like it one bit when she withdrew herself from him. He knew that he had to fix whatever that is bothering her. He can’t bear it when she’s troubled.

He softly caressed her but cheeks and asked “Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you, now, sweetheart?”

Y/N scowled, with tears in her eyes and replied a resonating “No!”

Andy chuckled hearing that.

“Well, at least it’s a no this time and not a nothing” he said and her eyes widened hearing it.

“That’s progress” he added and hummed letting his fingers go down to her folds.

“Someone’s been enjoying this” he said, his fingers playing with her with folds while she squirmed.

His fingers soon found her clit and kept rubbing tight circles on it, making a coil form in her stomach and just before it was about to snap, he stopped, making her whimper.

“Are you going to tell me now?” he asked her slowly.

She just turned her head away is response.

It wasn’t long before he started playing with her folds again, dipping his finger into the wet hole, thrusting into it. He edged her four times like that, stopping right before she could climax and asking her if she’s gonna tell him and she’d just whimper or groan in response, shaking her head. The fifth time he edged her and stopped right before the orgasm hit her, she kicked her legs, crying, her lady parts sensitive, her body flushed.

“I don’t like being mean to you, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s bothering you” he told her softly, leaning down and kissing the back of her head.

And she told him, bearing her heart out to him. She told him that she loved him and was scared that in the end she’d end up with a broken heart and was trying to protect herself from it, that she knew that these type of arrangements - what they had usually don’t last and was scared that she’d end up trying to mend her heart back while sobbing. He eventually let her hands go, but made her sit in his lap while she cried into his shoulder, all the while he kept caressing her back, her hair while kissing the side of her head. He waited till her cries stopped to break the news to her.

“You had me worried there, baby. And I thought it was something that I did” he said, making her sit straight in his lap and look at him with a frown etched on her face.

“You’re not calling off the arrangement?” she asked him, looking dumbfound.

Andy laughed in response and cupped her face, saying “And let you go? Never! I fucking love you and I’m never going to let you go. You’re stick with me sweetheart, and got me wrapped around your finger,” and kissed her passionately, pouring all his love and feelings for her.

#Defending Jacob #andy barber x reader #andy barber #sugar daddy andy barber #sugar daddy! andy barber #sugar daddy!andy barber #smut #mean andy barber

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad.

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return.

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land.

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly.

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great).

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman best wingman obviously #not really he just couldnt bear to see the both you be so painfully awkward with eachother bye #but hey he helped at the end of the day

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babymilkawa · 3 years

Note

Can you do the haikyuu captions with an S/o who is in their first year (fluffy)

yayy finally have a reason to write for kuroo and bokuto

first year s/o headcanons with:

oikawa tooru, sawamura daichi, kuroo tetsuro, bokuto kotaro

gn!reader :)

oikawa tooru

at first, you were a little hesitant on letting your relationship out

because some of his fans could be second or third years yk, we don’t want no bullies bullies b gone whoosh

but he is almost always by your side and has even acted annoyed to his fans if they were ever mean to you

having a third year as your bf means that you can get homework help whenever you want

and all your teachers love him

so they don’t mind if he hangs out in the classroom sometimes, as long as he doesn’t distract you

he’ll gush about how you and your little friends are so cute

pull that old man shit and be like “I remember those days, we were young and free~”

dramatic king

whenever you go to one of his games, you’ll always try to cheer louder for him compared to his other fans and he’s got like this big surge of pride

but afterwards he’ll be like “don’t lose your voice honey”

will want you to be the team’s new manager soooo bad

like will beg you on his knees because if you accept the current manager’s offer, you can see your bf even more and he can impress you

the manager totally doesn't use that to try to convince you

oikawa really just loves how the slight age gap means he has more the reason to take care of you

your first time during a class sports event? he’s right by your side, making sure you don’t feel awkward or lost

yes he’s that type of person who looooves it when you ask questions and he can show off his smexy brain

a lot of times Iwaizumi will hit him in the back of the head if he’s talking with you too much and he’ll just sulk and slump his head on your shoulder

sawamura daichi

he’ll always bop his head into ur class

he’s obviously also a teacher’s favorite have u met this guy

oh wait no u haven’t, rip sucks to be u *sobs*

so the teachers don't mind

ur teachers prolly even gush about him with you, yk like those teachers who lOVE drama/gossip yea them

Nishinoya and tanaka always try to get ur attention bc your Daichi’s s/o and every time, Daichi will yell at them, telling them to not scare you off

but they still do it

tis a cycle

plays 128489x better when you’re around

wait gotta round that so 130000x

we know he’s very encouraging to his teammates but with you around? he’s like Yamaguchi’s personal cheering squad

will go to your house in the mornings, walk you to class, wait there at lunch, walk you home, ugh this man can’t get enough of u

he loves it when you lean against him when u guys walk together, he’ll wrap a secure arm around you and you nuzzle in his neck SHDFKJHDKS

u always help them shag the balls and he’s like “no, no, y/n let tanaka and Nishinoya do it” and those two are giving you puppy eyes

cue Daichi chasing them down

if tanaka and noya are puppies, he’s your bulldog

omg random but y'all know that one parks and rec episode where they’re picking people’s spirit dog? yea Daichi is like a bulldog

but once he turns to you it’s all 🌈🌟💫💝

but he’s genuine

no fakes we don’t want them

if you read my sick s/o hcs you’ll know how much of a “handsome boy” to elderly people he is

hehe sry for the self promo

kuroo tetsuro

u already know what ur dates are gonna be like

he’s gonna smexy study with you *bites lip*

yea that’s right Kuroo just leave ur brain and go

this man,,,again I know,,,is adored by your teachers

“Kuroo you’ve still got that same hair!”

yea he’s def like a teacher assistant or smn during his free period

he’ll pick ur class and just wiggles his eyebrows whenever y'all make eye contact

when you’re done with a presentation, he’ll be the first and loudest when clapping

alwaysss is there when you need a pencil or an eraser

this man will literally prepare protein bars for you the morning u have a test, will give you a pep talk, y'all like huddle outside the classroom or something LMAO that’s cute tho

“you’re gonna go in there and you’re gonna kick that test in the ass ok?”

gives you a dad pat, a kiss to ur head and gives you two thumbs up when you glance at him at your desk

p sure everyone in your class wants him to hold a study session

but no ladies & gentlemen, he’s reserved for y/n and y/n only good day ☺️

its kinda impossible for u to fail

to thank his brain, you always show up to his practices and games

you give the team their water, towels, etc and he’s just yea that’s right they’re my s/o

now shower them with praise *holds them at gunpoint*

his schedule is busier than yours and he always feels bad abt it

which is why he’s soooo clingy if y'all sleepover or after hw

it’s hard for him to resist u cuddles during hw tho

OMIGOD WATCH THIS VID

bokuto kotaro

ok at this point we know that all our captains are angels so

*deep inhale*

he’s a teachers favorite

there I said it sue me

so yes he WILL hang around your classroom and talk to the teachers

p sure he does that with akaashi buttt 👀

and if u can’t come out during break he’ll just mope by the doorway while akaashi nom noms on his snacc boccuto

he won’t rly help u with hw, he’ll try but go off topic and whoops why did a pillow hit my face

yea y’all don’t get much studying done so hopefully ur smart

ACTUALYYYYY you just call akaashi

DuH

bokuto will litrally be like “ur bad at math? Babe just jump in the pool with me rn with ur clothes on, take a shower and then we’ll call akaashi!!”

it was 1 am 💀

he’s a good distraction whenever you’re stressed out

literally sunshine in human form

if ur there during his practices and matches he almost NEVERS goes into Emo mode bc gotta impress my s/o

ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ!!

will randomly call out to you when he’s on the court

“HEY Y/N HI HELLO”

“this ones for you” *hits it into the net*

every time he gets a good play he’ll immediately look into the crowd and ur there jumping for him and he’s jumping back and awww

some ppl r wondering if he’s even older than u like y’all look abt the same age 🤔

he’s just 🍗🍗🍖🍖🍑🍑

if ur not there during practice he’ll definitely just slouch and swing his arms around “where’s y/nnnn”

someone lift his face up and kiss him on the nose

THATS U Y/N GET UR MAN

but he knows he can’t act like that during games

he’ll just have to suck it up

and pretend like ur there, pretend that ur voice is there

literally he can only pick out your cheers from a whole stadium of people

but obv u get the best seats ;)

a/n: aaah this was fun to write ^3^

haikyu!! masterlist

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Double Date

(a blurb from the Flatmate series)

…in which “I don’t want whoever I end up dating to feel second to you.”

Word count: 2.4k

This is inspired by the song ’gold rush’ from Taylor’s new album ‘evermore’. This song reminds me so much of the flatmate babiesssss.

Harry didn’t believe in his own ears.

His flatmate?

Going on a date?

No way.

But why would she lie about that? And he knew she hadn’t made that shit up, because the guy existed, and Harry had spoken to him and seen Y/N have a conversation with him several times before. However, never would Harry have thought that the two of them would go on a date. He couldn’t even imagine them holding hands. It was just bizarre. Also, Y/N never went out, and she hated people. Did she know that ‘dating’ required being around a person all the time? It would never work.

“You’re going on a date?” Harry asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

“No,” she answered flatly.

“Okay, then can I come with?”

“No!” cried Y/N as she shoved him aside to get to the fridge.

Harry huffed like an angry child as he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “If he’s just a friend, why can’t I come with you?”

“Because it’d be weird! You don’t know my friend.”

“Not true. I had two classes with him last semester.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

Harry’s mouth froze as he opened it and realised he didn’t know the answer. Y/N shut the fridge door and started drinking her milk slowly with an eyebrow raised, waiting for the answer that he didn’t have.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed. “Who the fuck cares what his name is? It’s shady that you don’t want me to hang out with him.”

“He didn’t invite you.”

“But he wouldn’t mind if you did because we’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She didn’t comment and just brushed right past him. Harry knew it was her way of ending the conversation, so he hurriedly followed her out of the kitchen. She flopped down onto the couch and he came to sit beside her. She grabbed the remote to turn the telly on. He snatched it away, forcing her to stay in the conversation. He wasn’t going to let this end so easily. His need to win all the time was his most toxic trait, according to Layla. But oh well, nobody’s perfect. He had to have at least one flaw.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.” Y/N scrunched up her face and reached for the remote. Harry immediately sat on it. “Hey!”

He ignored her reaction. “Then why don’t you want me to go with you and your ‘friend’ to this concert?”

“It’s not a concert. It’s an acoustic night at a cafe.”

“I still wanna go.”

“You’re annoying.” Y/N aggressively hugged a pillow to her chest and turned away from him.

Harry felt guilty. He might have said too much. If he was aware of him being annoying, it must be worse for her. And he never wished to upset her. He just didn’t want her to go on this ‘not really a date’ date.

“What if I bring someone?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N glared at him. “Like...a girl?”

“Or Niall.” He shrugged. “Depends.”

He expected her to be jealous or at least showed that she was jealous. To his disappointment, she gave a nonchalant shrug and said, “Okay.”

“Okay I can go if I bring someone?”

“Sure, then you’ll have someone else to annoy.”

Harry chuckled as he looked at her while she looked somewhere else. “You could be so mean sometimes.”

She rolled her eyes and gave a smirk. “Thank you.”

AJ. That was Y/N’s date’s name.

Why would anyone want to name their child AJ? It was like his parents didn’t even try. Harry hated to be an arsehole. Well, not really. But yeah, he fucking hated this dude.

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” Layla mumbled and shot Harry a glare as they followed AJ and Y/N to their table.

“It’d be embarrassing if I’d gone with Niall,” Harry whispered to Layla as they took their seats facing the other two, who were too caught up in their conversation to pay attention to all this shady whispering.

“Just pick another one from your long list of hoes,” Layla said.

“Well, I don’t want to make anyone think I’m taking them on a date.” He flashed her a smile. “So I picked you.”

Layla rolled her eyes and picked up the menu. “Wait. They don’t have anything with alcohol?” she asked aloud.

“Try this vanilla drink. So you wouldn’t be so fucking bitter all the time.”

Layla smacked Harry on the arm for his comment. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Y/N holding back a laugh by biting her lip. If only she knew how cute she looked tonight wearing that babydoll dress and her hair up in a ponytail. He wanted to tell her, but it’d be weird, wouldn’t it? They never complimented each other. And knowing how anxious he’d get, he’d probably say some dumb shit like comparing her to a ghost or something.

“The drinks aren’t the best,” AJ said after the waiter had left with their orders. “But the music is great. My favourite band is playing tonight.”

“Oh, what’s the band’s name?” Y/N asked.

“The Muse.”

“Never heard of them,” Harry said nonchalantly and received a glare from Y/N. He gave her a subtle shrug.

“Well, they’re a small band. But they’re great,” AJ said, smiling.

Layla tapped Harry on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper to him, “He’s handsome and respectful. You don’t stand a chance.”

“You don’t think I’m handsome and respectful?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Layla scoffed. “Handsome, yes. But you’re a hoe.”

Harry was so used to Layla’s sense of humour, he didn’t find these comments offensive at all, just funny, and kinda true. He was far from a saint. “Is that coming from a certified hoe?” he jokingly asked.

Layla smirked and pushed his face away. “Shut the fuck up.”

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. When he looked up, he caught Y/N staring. She turned away as quickly as she could but was unable to hide her blushing. Had she been checking him out? He wasn’t complaining. It was flattering, to say the least. With her date sitting right there.

“Stop.”

He flinched and turned back to Layla. “What?”

“Stop looking at AJ like he murdered your cat. You’re being embarrassing right now.”

“We’re not actually on a date, Layla.”

“I know.” Layla sighed. “That’s why I’m tolerating you.”

Their drinks were served just in time the opening act - a lady singing Taylor Swift songs - ended, and the main act arrived. Four men stepped on the stage and started setting up their instruments. The main singer introduced themselves as The Muse, and the first song they were going to sing had some weird symbolistic name that Harry forgot as soon as he’d heard it. He was too busy watching Y/N. AJ whispered something into her ear, making her giggle and Harry’s blood boil.

He was most familiar with that laugh. He’d made her laugh like that all the time. Well, yes, it was kinda weird to be gatekeeping someone’s laugh. But the fact that Y/N found this boring bloke funny made Harry’s skin crawl.

Suddenly, Harry caught Layla’s warning stare, so he swallowed his jealousy and took a sip of his coffee, which had already got cold.

The Muse sang two or three songs in a row and interacted with the audience in between little breaks. Meanwhile, AJ entertained Harry, Y/N, and Layla with his boring stories about his academic achievements. Also, he kept bragging about him being able to cook. We get it, Ratatouille, Harry thought. Go open a restaurant in Paris or something!

What Harry found more annoying than this guy having all the qualities a woman would look for in her future husband, was the fact that Y/N was completely infatuated. If she was just being nice, she should win an Oscar for Best Actress.

“Question,” Layla whispered to Harry when AJ and Y/N were lost in their own world again. “Will I be your plus one to their wedding?”

“Shut up,” he scoffed.

Layla shrugged. “I hear wedding bells ringing. Don’t you?”

Fuck bells. Fuck weddings. Fuck AJ. Fuck Layla. Harry wanted to say fuck Y/N, too. But he had a crush on her so he couldn’t hate her. Fuck this whole place. Fuck everyone except for his Y/N.

“Would any of you like to come on stage and perform with us?” asked the lead singer of The Muse.

“Ooooh, this is my favourite part!” AJ said, his green eyes twinkling.

Fuck this dude, Harry thought bitterly, for being handsome.

“You’re gonna sing?” Y/N asked AJ.

“Nah, I suck at singing,” AJ said. “I play the drums, though.”

“I bet you do,” Harry muttered, but it seemed like everyone had heard him. He responded to Y/N’s questioning look with an awkward grin.

“What about you, Harry?” Layla suggested, obviously wanting to start some shit as always. “Would you like to sing?”

“Harry can’t sing,” Y/N said quickly.

Harry blinked at her in surprise. “Hey, I can sing. It’s just I don’t want to.”

“Oh, it’d be fun.”

“No, thank you, AJ,” Harry said between gritted teeth.

AJ looked quite offended. Fortunately, Layla came for the rescue. “I’ll do it,” she shouted with her hand raised. Everyone broke into applause as she got up and made her way to the stage.

“Can she sing?” Y/N asked Harry.

He sighed and lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “We could only hope.”

Layla strutted up the steps and waved at Harry, Y/N, and AJ. Suddenly, her heel was caught by a wire, and she tripped, falling headfirst into the lead singer. She knocked them both right off the stage against one of the tables and had the drinks spilt all over them.

Harry was frozen in shock until Layla’s cries snapped him out of it and sent him to his feet as he rushed up to help her.

“You got drunk on vanilla?” Harry asked while trying his best not to laugh at Layla being covered in strawberry smoothies.

“Shut the fuck up!” she cried. “I wanna go home!”

“Is she okay?” Y/N asked.

“No, bitch. Do I look okay to you?!”

“I’ll take her home,” Harry said, helping Layla up and receiving angry looks from the other band members, who were checking up on their friend. The lead singer didn’t break any bones. Thank God. Sighing, Harry turned back to Y/N and AJ. “You two...stay. Carry on with your date. Don’t worry about us.”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but AJ didn’t let her. “No, we can’t just stay when Layla’s hurt,” he said, eyeing Layla up and down in concern. “You live in the dorm, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So do I. I’ll take you home.” To Y/N, AJ said, “I’m sorry, Y/N. Next time?”

Y/N pressed her lips into a smile. “Sure. Drive safe, all right?”

“He seems nice,” Harry said as he walked home with Y/N. She’d been so quiet since they’d left the cafe, he was afraid she was mad at him or something.

She gave a nod. To his surprise, she said, “I’m sorry about Layla.”

He gave a dismissive wave. “She’ll be fine. That was probably karma for pushing Liam off the stairs.”

Y/N looked horrified. “On purpose?”

Harry shrugged. “We don’t know. Possibly. I mean, it’s Layla.”

They both laughed together and suddenly went quiet.

“I’m kind of mad at you, though,” Y/N said after another moment.

“Why?” Harry chuckled.

“You shouldn’t have asked to come with us.”

“You said I could if I brought someone.”

“Yes, I didn’t think you’d bring Layla,” she said and rolled her eyes. “Are you two like...hooking up?”

“Ew no, she’s like a sister to me. An awful one.” He laughed and nudged her with his shoulder. “Why? Are you jealous?”

She glared at him. “No. But you two are both attractive. It’s weird that you don’t find each other attractive.”

“You think I’m attractive?” Harry smirked, loving how quickly her face turned red.

“I mean, conventionally attractive.” She cleared her throat, refusing to look at him as they spoke. “Your hair’s always so nice. It falls into place like...dominoes…”

“Dominoes?” Harry chuckled. “Aww, someone’s flustered. Just say you have a crush on me.”

“No,” Y/N said timidly, as if she was unsure. “But...you should stop teasing me like this.”

“Why? It’s fun. I like teasing you.”

“People would think I have a crush on you for real.”

Harry maintained his nonchalant expression, but the butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. “You don’t?” he asked with mock surprise. “And what’s wrong with people thinking you have a crush on me? Everyone has a crush on me.”

That was meant to be a joke. Harry didn’t expect a serious answer from Y/N.

“I don’t want whoever I end up dating to feel like they’re second to you. Because sometimes I–” Her mouth clamped shut. She squeezed the strap of her handbag and walked a bit further away from him.

Harry found it amusing. “You what?”

“No.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say something and never finish it.”

Y/N gave him a glance, biting her lip. “Sometimes I feel like...I care about you too much. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Why’s caring about me makes you uncomfortable?” He smiled, unable to hold it anymore.

She said nothing and only walked faster to get ahead of him. Harry sped up and fell into steps beside her again as he cleared his throat into his fist. “Just so you know,” he said slowly. “I care about you a lot, too. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t look at him, but he could see her cheeks turning red. He loved it. Her shyness when she was around him made his heart swell. Maybe that was why he enjoyed teasing her. He wanted proof that he could make her feel something, no matter how insignificant it was.

“Okay,” was all she said.

It made him laugh. “You’re being mean.”

“Only to you,” she replied.

“Good,” he said, hoping she’d heard him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #flatmate!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #flatmate series

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doyumacy · 3 years

Text

ʜᴀᴇᴄʜᴀɴ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (fwb) pt. 2

ɢɪꜰ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍɪɴᴇ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴏʜʜɴʏ, ᴍᴀʀᴋ, ᴊᴇɴᴏ, ꜱɪᴄʜᴇɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇɴ. ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ. ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx.) ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏʀᴇ; ɴᴏꜱᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀʙᴏɴᴇ, ʜᴏꜱᴘɪᴛᴀʟ.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7,7k

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ʜᴇʀᴇ

Doghyuck doesn't call you the next day as it was expected. You are walking to your next class when you see him talking enthusiastically to a girl; she has her back leaning against the wall and he has one arm at the side of her head. You sigh and keep walking without being noticed by him.

You know Donghyuck and know the playboy he is. You know it might don't mean anything. Donghyuck is a flirty person by nature, and you can’t even begin to list the number of girls who’ve had their hearts broken by him. And yours might get added to that list.

You shake your head and enter the classroom placing your backpack on the floor. Someone sits next to you and you see Johnny. He smirks at you. “Hey, baby girl.”

Johnny is also a natural flirter, but not a player. You smile. “What’s up, Bravo?”

“Ha! Johnny Bravo,” he beams. “That’s a nice one.”

You shrug, smiling. “You know, my birthday is this weekend and you’re of course invited to the party.”

“I’ll be there,” you nod.

Johnny tilts his head in surprise. “Wait, really?”

You laugh. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“Because it normally would take me 5 hours to convince you to go…” he glances at you.

“That’s not t…” you frown. “Okay, maybe it’s true, but this time I really wanna go.”

He raises his hand and places it on your forehead. “Are you sick?”

You giggle and remove his hand. “I’m okay. I just need a distraction.”

“You okay?” He looks at you.

You sigh. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You know, if you ever need to talk to someone about anything I’m here,” he smiles at you.

“I know, thank you.”

(...)

"Hey Soo," you call your roommate.

She turns to you, taking her headphones off. "Yes?"

"Can I borrow your white dress?" You ask.

She nods. "Sure, where are you going tho?"

"Johnny's party," you smile. "He invited me and I haven't gone shopping in months."

"Oh, then no. You can't borrow that one," she gets up from the bed walking to her wardrobe.

"Okay..." you frown.

"You better wear this instead," she pulls out a long-sleeved pink latex dress, with a deep neckline ending at the waistband enriched by a hexagonal buckle. Your mouth drops open. "Woah, that's so..."

"I know," she beams.

"Aren't I going to look like a dominatrix?" You laugh.

She giggles. "Of course not. You will look very hot."

"Fuck it," you say, grabbing the dress. "I'm gonna wear it."

“Donghyuck is gonna lose his shit,” Soo laughs

“Huh?” You look at her confused. “What do you mean?”

“I might be dumb but I’m not blind,” she smiles. “You always sneak out and the way you two look at each other pretty much say you two been fucking….”

You choke a whine. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” she pats your shoulder.

(...)

"Wow..." You sigh as you compare this amazing mansion to your house in your mind.

"Impressive, yes yes, whatever," Johnny grabs your hand, walking through the people inside the mansion.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You need a drink," Johnny smiles, "Goddamn, you look so hot tonight."

You fiddle with your hair and your necklace, hiding your face so he can't see you're blushing. "T-thanks."

When you enter the kitchen, all eyes are on you, or rather in your cleavage. You recognize a few people that are there and you greet them, smiling. "My, my, aren't you pretty!" A boy practically sings, flipping his dark hair as he talks.

He's gorgeous. Johnny hands you a drink and you have a sip. "Ignore Yuta, he can't keep his hands to himself."

You giggle. "It's okay, I came because I wanna mingle."

Johnny tilts his head in surprise. "Weren't you dating Donghyuck?"

You almost choke on your drink. "What? W-where did you get that from?"

Johnny scratches the back of his neck. "Taeyong is Donghyuck's neighbor in the dorms and I once saw you, or heard you two doing things."

You blush and cover your face. "Oh, my God."

Johnny laughs at your reaction. "Taeyong didn't see you, don't worry. So, is your boyfriend coming?"

"He's not my boyfriend," you sigh. "We are... fuck buddies. We have been fucking our souls out."

"Nothing wrong with that," he quips.

You laugh. "It is when you catch feelings for him."

"Oh..." Johnny wiggles his eyebrows.

"Yup," you shake your head. "Whatever, I'm done. I can't keep doing it."

“Okay, lets go dance and hopefully I can introduce you to someone,” Johnny grabs your hand again, leaving the kitchen.

After Johnny and you dance a couple of songs, he invites you to play beer pong. You have one ball in one hand and a drink in the other, trying to land the damned thing in one of the red solo cups arranged across from you. You shoot and you miss, which you swear loudly at. Yuta, who is your partner, laughs. "You're the worst beer pong player I've ever seen."

You groan. "Give me a minute."

After everyone shoots and misses, it's your turn again. You take the ball in your hand again and suddenly your sight gets lost in Donghyuck and the same girl he was flirting with days ago in the hallway. Is she his girlfriend? Was he fucking you and dating her? You wanna throw up.

You drop the ball and leave the dining table trying to find the closest bathroom. Someone grabs your arm, making you turn. It's Johnny. "Hey, you okay?"

"You invited him?" You give him a questioning look, almost angry.

"Who? Donghyuck? No!" He looks at you. "I did invite the girl he is with... she's in my marketing class. I didn't even know they were together."

You growl and yank yourself free. "I need a drink."

Johnny shakes his head in disagreement. "Come with me. I want you to introduce you to someone."

"I don't need more guys, Johnny!" You glance at him.

"He's not a guy, he's a man," he smiles, dragging you to the living room. "Hes our age, but hes everything but a guy."

"You sound whipped for him, you should date him instead," you mock him.

Johnny chuckles. "Not my type."

In a matter of seconds, you're in front of a 'man' with round eyes, small mouth, a lot of cheekbone. Small nose too, with a sort of endearing hint of crook at the bridge. Permanently surprised eyebrows, one half-hidden under black hair, styled back but for a curl coming down on the right side. He's truly beautiful.

"Hey Mark, this is y/n. y/n this is Mark Lee," Johnny smiles. "You both like ice cream and sushi. Mingle, bye!"

And Johnny disappears from the scene. You stare at Mark for a couple of seconds and then laugh. You scratch your forehead and you can tell Mark is trying to keep his eyes up from for cleavage. Nice.

There's an awkward silence until Mark breaks it. "I actually hate sushi. Anything raw."

You sigh in relief. "Me too. I hate it."

You both laugh again. "Anyway," Mark continues, "it's cool to like, actually meet you finally? Johnny talks about you a lot so I feel like I kinda know you already, haha."

"Oh really?" Which means Mark spends significant time around him. You wonder where.

"Yeah! I mean, I don't go to the same uni as you guys but we met when we were on an exchange program in America," he smiles.

"Oh that's great!" You smirk. "So you're the guy who kept him away from me when he was away?"

"I think I am? I apologize," he places a hand on his chest.

"You're forgiven," you sigh and he smiles.

Your favorite song Pour Up by Dean ft. Zico starts to play in the background and you look at him. "I love that song. You wanna go dance with me?"

"You kidding? That's my favorite song too," he grabs your hand walking to where the rest of the people are dancing.

It's not like you wanted to give Mark a lap dance, but the song is too sexy for not to do it (or maybe you did, but that is an advanced level of courage and you are not known for being a bold person). It's not like Donghyuck didn't see you with a stranger, dancing so closely and got jealous of him because that could be him.

Mark rotates his hips, running his hands up his sides and swaying. He glances over you, who are doing the same.

You roll your body provocatively, remembering just how tight the dress looks on your ass. The next move prompts him and you to face each other for a moment as you rise back up, rocking on your heels and swaying. He winks at you jokingly and you smirk.

Donghyuck finds the scene repulsive. He wants to drag you out of the house and beat the shit out of Mark. Who the hell did the guy think he is? Donghyuck gets pulled out his thoughts when his date grabs his arm. "Babe, I want another drink."

Donghyuck gives you a last glance and sighs turning to his date. "Let's go."

When the song's over, Mark and you step out of the crowded 'dance floor' and you lean against the wall. He stands next to you. "Uhm, did you hear he's having a concert next weekend?

You nod. "Yeah, I wanted to go but tickets got sold out."

He bites his lips. "I have an extra ticket, would you like to go with me?"

You look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, you seem to enjoy his music and you're nice. And of course, I'd like to know you better," he smirks.

You beam. "Okay, I'd love to. Thank you, Mark."

Back in your dorm, you text Mark you've arrived safely and he wishes you a goodnight. You take off the dress and put on your pajamas.

Right when you're about to turn off the lights, you get a text message from Donghyuck.

𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛?

And just like that, minutes later you open the dorm door finding him on the other side of the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes then turn into slits as he glares at you.

“Had fun with your date?” He questions and you can see his jaw set: muscles clenching tight.

"I did," you reply.

Donghyuck gets inside your dorm and shuts the door behind him. He attaches his lips to your neck which draws a soft moan from you, he harshly sucking and peppering soft kisses on the expanse of the skin of your neck. His hands running at your sides smoothly and gradually getting closer to the underside of your breasts with each pass, when he finally cups your breasts you arch in his palms further pushing yourself closer to him. "Look at you, you're all needy by me just kissing your neck."

You want to slap him, but he's right. “Why can’t you understand that I am the only one who can make you feel this way?"

You taste the residue of vodka on his lips when he kisses you and walks to your bed without breaking the kiss.

You find yourself lying naked on your bed where you two have laid your back many times but he never stayed over the night. As he slips your pajama pants down your body, your eyes water and pools in your eyes ready to spill over. ‘This is the last time,’ you tell yourself. He discharges his clothes at the other side of the bed. You manage to swipe the tears that gathered in your eyes and look at him.

Placing himself over you, he is a sight to behold and you trace the line of his body with your eyes, caressing the dips on his collarbones and the line that leads down to his cock as his face coils into a smirk smug with the knowledge that he can turn you into a whimpering mess.

His thumb is drawing circles on your clit which make your moan and your pussy clench on nothing. You hate that he is the only one who can make you feel this way, reducing you into a pleading mess as you move your hips to the rhythm that he has set.

He inserts his length into you slowly, while you grip your sheets until your knuckles turn pale. He always feels good. So good.

He knows your body so well; putting the right pressure and hitting the spots that makes you throw your head back repeatedly, moaning. You can feel his quick thrusts and knows that he is near his climax. Donghyuck makes a sound at the back of his throat when he orgasms and you follow him when he falls.

He snuggles into your neck, trying to catch his breath again. You rest beneath him and hug him, placing kisses on his shoulder. "I came inside," he tells you, rolling next to you.

"I'm on the pill," you stare at the roof.

He nods. "I should go."

You laugh. Of course he has to go. He always has to go. "Whatever, lock the door when you leave."

You cover yourself with your sheets, turning on your back. He frowns as he gets dressed. "What's up with you these days?"

"What do you mean?" You turn to face him.

"You're acting... weird," Donghyuck shrugs.

You want to yell at him and tell him that you're over heels for him. That you love him. That you've been in love with him for a year and being cold to you only hurts you more and more.

You shake your head. "Just... go."

He finishes putting his clothes on and grabs his phone. "Is this too much for you? Us fucking?"

Yes. "No."

"Great, because we're supposed to have a great time," he leans closer to you and gives you a kiss. "You know where to find me."

You nod and right after he shuts the door, tears plops down your cheeks. He doesn't love you the way you love him. And he might never do. You hate him, but you even hate yourself more. You don't want to ever see him again.

(...)

“y/n! Mark's here!” You hear Too call you.

You smile, grabbing your jacket as you hurry out the door.

Mark is standing in the doorway and you draw closer, he smiles at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” You smile back taking in Mark's attire. He is dressed in black ripped skinny jeans, a white shirt and a denim jacket. “You look great.”

“You do too.” Mark offers you a charming grin, head tilted slightly to the side, “You always look great.”

“Oh he’s good.” You hear Soo murmur teasingly, “you two have fun.”

Mark flashes the tickets to the security guy at the entrance of the venue, the music is pumping in your ears and the flashing lights of the stage. A crowd has already found their seats.

You know how to maneuver through a crowd almost completely undetected. You seem completely in your element, the multi-colored lights dancing off your hair, as you two of them maneuver through the people. You finally find your seats and Mark sighs, relieved.

Minutes later, the artist finally gets on stage. You two are moving to the beat, the show is so good.

You catch yourself staring between songs, Mark is truly beautiful.

You're surprised when he glances over and notices you are mouthing the lyrics. He smiles watching you. "That's our song."

"Wanna dance with me again?"

"Definitely," he smirks.

You two dance to "Pour Up" again, grinding to each other. Mark feels good pressed against your back.

After the concert is done, you two stay still waiting for the rest of the people to leave the venue. Someone lets out a roar from somewhere on your left, a second later something collides with your face, hard enough to knock you more into Mark. Mark catches you before you end up face first on the floor. The second you gain your footing back, Mark turns towards the guy that hit you, furious.

“Watch it!” Mark's voice comes out harsh as the other concert attender snorts and waves him off. You feel something hot run down your face from your nose. You reach up your hand in time to catch a few drops of blood. You feel Mark shift his weight before tugging you through the crowd away from the stage, you try to follow your movements, having some difficulty with the daze of being hit.

Mark helps you over to a more secluded part of the venue. After a while Mark sets you down on a bench. You let out a groan as you raise your hand to your face, trying to keep the flow of blood from staining your clothes.

“Wait here.” Mark turns on his shoes and dashes across the venue. You look up to the roof, after some time you hear Mark's hurried footsteps behind you. He kneels next to you in the flow, handing you a handful of paper napkins for your nose.

“Thanks,” You murmur as you take the pile. Your blood easily soaks through the first few layers of paper before you get it under control. You try to pull your head back when you feel Mark's hand on the back of your head directing you forward.

“Lean forward, not back.” Mark directs as you do as told. After a few seconds you feel Mark's hand move down to your back, rubbing gentle circles as the two of you sit in silence. After a few minutes you feel the blood flow slow down.

“So, think my nose is broken?” You ask as you gently wipe the blood from your face.

“Nah, definitely not broken. You’re going to have one heck of a bruise though.” Mark warns. After a few seconds you feel something ice cold touch your cheek. You let out a surprised yelp as you lean away from the touch. You look over to see Mark handing you a cup with ice in it.

“Here, so it doesn’t swell.” You sit back up and take the cup with your free hand and gently press it on your face where you were struck.

“You’re… kinda good at this first-aid thing.”

“I've been playing hockey for years, you learn these type of things.” Mark scoffs. His eyes soften as you move the napkins from your nose, showing the bleeding has almost stopped. “Sorry you took an elbow to the face. I didn’t even see that guy come up to you.”

“Neither did I.” You admit as you pull the bloodied napkins away from your face, using one of the clean ones to clean any extra blood from your hands and face. “So, be honest, how bad does it look?”

“Like I said, you’ll be bruised tomorrow, but, it doesn’t look that bad.” Mark offers with a small smile. “The ice helped, at least your face isn’t swollen.”

“Thanks for the ice.” You offer as you look down at the cup of ice Mark had handed you, you frown a little when you see the logo on the side of the cup. “Did you…run all the way to the other side of the venue?”

“… Yes.”

“Thats-” Mark glances in the direction of the hallway, “At least two hundred meters away.”

“… Yes.”

“You ran.”

“…I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“You-” You can't help but break into a little laugh, “You, are trying to be modest about running across the arena just to get something for my nose and face.”

“You were bleeding,” Mark points out.

“Yeah, but I could’ve used my shirt or something. You didn’t have to run like…half a mile to get something for me.”

“I run on ice pretty much everyday" Mark scoffs, shaking his head at you. You smile, standing up and reaching out for Mark.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

Mark stares at you for a second before taking your hand. You pull him up and tug him along the arena, finding the exit. "So you say you play hockey?"

He nods, "Yeah. I'm the captain of the team," he smirks.

"No shit," you say.

Mark laughs. "What?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, "its just curious because my best friend is the captain of the hockey team in my uni."

"Cool, what's your friend's name?" He asks.

"Uhm Lee, Lee Donghyuck," you say.

He stops walking and he stares at you. "Dickhyuck is your best friend?"

You burst out laughing at the nickname he has given him. Oh boy, he indeed is a dick. "What did he do to you?"

"Sorry for the nickname, I was just shocked you're friends with him," he scratches the back of his neck. "He is an asshole."

"He is," you nod.

He cocks an eyebrow. "I thought you were friends."

"We are, and we might stop being friends. Long story," you sigh.

He nods. "So, uhm, next week is the playoffs, would you like to come?"

"Uhm yeah, of course. I just need to tell you that I know nothing about hockey." You giggle a bit.

"I'll explain anything you need to know," He beams at you.

(...)

𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝.

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

𝙸’𝚖 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚘?

𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

White hot jealousy surges through Donghyuck as he reads your last text. Why is he jealous? He has no right to feel jealous when he has been clear to himself you're just his friend and his fuck-buddy. He's into Yujin, right?

He throws his phone to the bed and sits in front of his computer. Why is he so upset? Is it because he's horny and you're not around? Or is it because he likes you?

Bullshit.

He shakes his head, removing that thought. He is not in love with you.

Donghyuck stands up and goes to his bed unlocking his phone. He texts Jeno asking if he's busy, who replies back saying no. He needs a beer.

Donghyuck meets Jeno at the regular bar they used to go to. They're sitting next to the bar. Jeno stares at him and Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "What?"

"You're grumpier than usual, what's wrong?" Jeno inquires.

"Nothing," Donghyuck has a sip of his beer.

"Is it... maybe y/n?" Jeno hums.

Jeno is tired of it. It seems everyone around you knows that you two are in love, but apparently the two of you can't open your eyes. Or at least Donghyuck.

"No idea what you're talking about," Donghyuck murmurs.

Jeno sighs. "Why do you keep denying it?"

Donghyuck growls. "I'm not denying shit."

Jeno rolls his eyes and crosses his arms on his chest. "You have to be an idiot to not see the way you two look at each other. And the way you two... you know... shagging, you could say it's love. Real love."

"What are you on, Jeno?" Donghyuck glances at him.

"I'm sober, but thanks for your concern," Jeno smirks. "But you my friend, you are high off your ass on feelings."

"Shut up," Donghyuck groans and finishes his beer. He makes the waiter a signal to bring another one.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Jeno dares him.

Donghyuck stares at the beer bottle, thinking. Is Jeno right? Is he high off his ass on feelings for you?

He thinks of you: Donghyuck loves your hair and adores the way you raise your eyebrows when you're talking about something that excites you. Your lips fascinates him and the ease you have when speaking in front of many people seems incredible to him. His heart starts skipping a beat just of the thought of you: you have too much effect on him.

Shit.

Donghyuck is really in love with you.

(...)

Donghyuck sighs as he pulls off his helmet and wipes at his sweaty brow. The air is cold against his skin and he can see his hot breath. He is tired as the second period ends, he skates across the ice towards the exit. He has 5 minutes before the third period starts.

Donghyuck drinks water before sitting on the bench. The ice hockey arena is full, with both schools attending the game. He sees some people he knows, some of his friends: Jungwoo, Renjun, Yangyang and Jisung. Jeno is in the team with him.

Then his sight freezes on someone that looks like you. Donghyuck stares at her for a couple of seconds to later realize it's you. You're there with Johnny and someone he doesn't know.

He frowns. You hate hockey, what are you doing there?

He follows your face, smiling to someone and he curses when he sees who you're waving your hand off.

Fucking Mark Lee.

Of course he had seen his face before and the day of the party, when you were dancing with him he thought he had seen him before.

That's who you are dating.

Donghyuck feels sad, knowing that you never accepted to go to one of his games and there you are, cheering for someone else.

"I swear that girl looks like y/n," Jeno tells him.

"It's y/n," Donghyuck states, grabbing his helmet.

"Huh?" Jeno gives him a confused look.

"She's dating Mark."

“The Mark Lee we hate?” Jeno shakes his head. “That’s… unexpected.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck puts on his helmet.

You would lie if you say you haven't been seeing Donghyuck. He's so smooth the ice, he moves as if he had been born on the ice. Then you would cheer for Mark's team even tho, deep down, you want Donghyuck's team to win.

Jeno chases the puck behind the back of the net. Shovels it out to Donghyuck, past the waiting stick Sicheng's stick. Donghyuck takes it up the ice, looking for an open. Ten shakes free of Mark, makes himself available. Donghyuck takes the open, approaching the blue line, passes the puck to Ten, but Mark takes the puck up the right—oh! And Donghyuck goes down hard! He deals out a devastating hit. There's a whistle. Oh, this is not good. He’s not getting up.

The entire bench is on their feet in an instant. Jeno has ripped his helmet off and skates over with as much speed as his bulky pads could muster, shooing away the circle of their concerned team mates.

Donghyuck hasn't moved since he has fallen, his limbs locked in the same position they had been just before the hit.

"Why is he not moving, Johnny?" You ask.

"I don't know," he states.

You leave your seat, almost running towards the ice rink. They don't let you in and you argue you need to make sure he is okay.

Jeno kneels beside Donghyuck, he can see that his dark eyes are unblinking, wide and blank.

“Come on, Hyuck breathe for me,” Jeno says insistently.

"Hyuck!" He hears you scream. "Hyuck!"

Donghyuck draws a few stuttering breaths as he slowly swims towards something resembling consciousness. It becomes readily apparent that he can't move his left arm. "Let her in."

"What?" Jeno frowns.

"y/n," Donghyuck tries to lean forward.

Jeno turns and sees you arguing with the security guard. "She can't get on the ice without skates, she could get hurt."

Donghyuck groans and watches the paramedics bring the backboard out.

“I can walk off,” Donghyuck slurs.

“Hell no, you're no—“

Jeno is interrupted as the crowd erupts all around them. Lifting his head quickly, he spots Mark and Sicheng throwing their gloves off and locking together. Helmets are ripped off, jerseys pulled and punches thrown wildly. Before Donghyuck can shout at his team partner, the cry from the crowd goes up again. Ten and Taeyong (a guy from Mark's team) separate them.

Donghyuck leans over the backboard as they prepare to carry him off the ice. "We're so doomed."

(...)

“A five minute penalty for interference and game misconduct? That’s a fucking disgrace,” Ten grouses.

“The board’s reviewing it. With a hit like that, he should get a harsher punishment,” Jeno adds.

“If he’s not suspended for the rest of the games, someone’s getting my stick shoved up their arse,” Sicheng says.

A murmur of agreement goes around the room.

“I thought the nurse said only three visitors at a time,” Donghyuck rasps, not bothering to try to lift his head. He can't even keep his eyes open. It makes the room spin. Everything seems… too loud. And the pain on his right collarbone is too much.

“Oh, so you are awake. Here we were all worrying about you and you’re faking,” Jeno says teasingly.

Donghyuck can't bring himself to rise to the bait. Keeping himself awake is hard enough work as it is.

“…Hyuck?” You call as you open the door slightly.

The room is silent for a few moments and the guys look at you. Donghyuck opens his eyes and spots your head between the door. "Leave. Now." He's talking to his team mates.

Jeno, Sicheng and Ten leave the room. You say goodbye to them as they leave the room. You walk standing next to him and realize he's wearing a triangular sling. "Hey."

"Hey," he greets. "Disappointed to know I didn't die?"

"Shut up," you look at him. "I was so worried."

"You pushed a security guard," he cocks an eyebrow at you.

You giggle. "He wouldn't let me in. I wanted to make sure you were okay," you place a hand on his.

"And I appreciate that, you could've gotten hurt," he takes your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss.

You sigh at the scene. "I don't care."

"I do," his eyes dart to you.

"Why don't you get some rest?" You sit next to him.

"I’m having surgery in a bit," he rests his hands interlocked with yours on his chest.

"What? Why?" You ask worried.

"Broken collarbone," he sighs.

"Oh, Hyuck," you lower your head sadly.

"I'll be fine," he squeezes your hand. "And I'll be right back in the ice to beat your boyfriend up."

"Mark's not my boyfriend," you say quickly. "And after today, I don't want to see him ever again."

"It was an accident; these things happen y/n."

"He knows about us, he heard me talking to Johnny about it today before the game," you don't look at him in the eye. "I’m sorry, Hyuck."

"Hey," he frees your hand and cups your face. "This isn't your fault, okay? Don't torture yourself, it's not your fault he couldn't handle it."

You nod. A nurse enters the room telling you they need to prepare him for surgery. You say goodbye to him and kiss his cheek.

"Just lay there, Hyuck," Jeno helps him to lay on his bed. He has been discharged from the hospital that morning and his friends are taking turns to take care of him.

"I'm so fucking high, dude," Hyuck laughs, squeezing his eyes. "What are on these meds? I feel like flying."

"Those are your painkillers, my friend," Jeno shakes his head, "enough of them for you today."

There's a knock on the door and Jeno walks to it. He opens it and he sees you with a bag of food. You smile. "Hi, Jeno."

"Hey, come in," he says.

You thank him and follow him. As you reach Donghyuck's room, Jeno stops. "Now, I should warn you, he’s pretty out of it,” he says.

“That’s fine,” You reply . “I think I can handle it."

He nods. "I have practice, I'll be back later, okay?"

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," you say.

You enter the room and you are greeted with the sight of Donghyuck reclining on his bed, looking a million miles away. You walk over to peer down at him.

“Hey Hyuck. How are you feeling?”

Jon tilts his head to look up at you. “y/n? Issat you?”

You smile. “Yeah, it’s me. Those pain meds did a number on you, huh?”

“I’m so happy to see you too,“ he says, smiling at you.

You beam wider, his dark eyes are unfocused but still shining brightly. It is unfair, how gorgeous his eyes are.

"Get some rest, Hyuck," you grab a blanket to tuck him.

He stares at you, looking a bit like a kicked puppy. “No! I wanna cuddle with you!”

"Okay okay," you say and you manage to get him tucked under the blankets. As soon as you're finished, you sit down and he rests his head on your chest.

"This is my favorite place," he states, tracing his fingers on your skin.

"Because my boobs are close to your face?" You mock him.

"Because I can hear your heart beating for me," he smiles.

You choke a sound. What is he saying?

"Cheesy," you mock him again.

"I love you."

You chuckle, nervously. "You're so high."

"I am high but I love you." He stares at you. "I fucking love you, y/n."

You press your lips together. "Let's talk about this when you're not high up on meds."

(...)

It's been two weeks since you have seen Donghyuck. Two weeks since he told you he loves you. You don't know if he is regretful for what he told you or he didn't mean it.

Of course your pride won't let you text him and you learn from Jeno he has gotten his stitches removed and he will be back in practice in 8 weeks since he has some recovery to do.

You're exiting the library when you feel someone grabs your hand. You turn to see who is there and you see Donghyuck smiling. "Hello, baby cheeks."

You cross your arms on your chest. "And finally the devil shows up."

"Devil? I'm hurt," he places a hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and turn on your heels. He sighs and grabs your arm. "Okay, I deserve that. But hey, I want to talk with you." He says as he stands in front of you.

"About what?" You cock an eyebrow. “Or you wanna fuck me and don't talk to me for days?

He lowers his head. “No. I wanna talk about us.”

"We're not fucking," you state.

"We are not," he nods.

That is a lie. Back in his dorm, you two are kissing, desperately. You walk over towards the bed, still kissing. It's a soft loving kiss that makes your heart melt. His kiss is sweet, probably from something he ate, and slow. He breaks away to look at you, "I love you" he whispers.

"So do I" you say.

He smiles and goes in for another kiss, this time a little more fiery, it's still slow but now he's using his tongue to lick at your bottom lip, eyes fluttered closed.

You tug on his hair ever so slightly, you know he likes that. He moans quietly and you bite his lip. He gets on top of you, and you can start to feel the start of an erection on your leg.

At this point both your tongues are swirling together. He slowly brings his hand up from your waist, to under your breast and cups your breast with his, squeezing it, all while looking him directly in the eye. His erection feels stronger now. You push your knee upward to create some type of friction between him and your thigh and he groans.

Donghyuck plays with your nipple through your bra, right hand still gripping your waist, tight. He pinches and pulls your nipple in a way that causes you to roll your hips forward and moan his name.

He flips you over and now he's beneath you and you're sitting on his lap, feeling his cock in your clothed ass. You start to grind on his hips, the outline of his cock can be felt even through the layers of your clothing. You can feel the heat emanating from it and you can't help but rock your hips against his gently. “Look at me,” he orders.

You look at him, his pupils are dilated and his cheeks up to his neck and shoulders have the prettiest blush on it.

You are gripping the edge of his shirt, looking so utterly innocent. He dives for your next and start nipping, placing light bites and kisses as he abuses that one sensitive spot

“Hyuck please” you feel tickling sensations that feel really good. That gasses Donghyuck up because he loves nothing more than hearing your groans and moans.You feel the slight moisture gathering on your underwear.

“Use your words, baby. ,” he says while he continues sucking and licking on that sensitive part of your neck. His hands start wandering and are now placed on top of your breast, kneading and lightly brushing your erect nipples through your bra.

“Please,” you ground your hips on his growing erection. He answers back by gripping your exposed thighs, putting a stop to the teasing he did on your breast.

“Please what baby?” he teases. Donghyuck is doing little circles with his thumbs as he grips your thighs. You feel him smiling against your neck before he bites hard on the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You moan. “Please fuck me,” you finally answer.

“Why should i?” Donghyuck asks, very visibly teasing, letting his teeth run through your shoulder.

“Please, I'm so wet for you and I missed you so much. Please Hyuck."

Donghyuck has the audacity to chuckle. Remove my shirt then,” he challenges.

Obedient as you are, you hurriedly take off his shirt and start pressing bites and kisses on his exposed chest. You give a soft kiss on his scar where he had surgery weeks ago. He can't help but let out his groans of pleasure. His large hands are back on your chest, massaging your breasts through the fabric, gently running his hands through then and giving them a squeeze, the cycle repeats again. Then, with a little help from you, he unclasped your bra. You take it off. You kiss him again.

“Wait baby,” he starts, eyes scanning the expanse of your chest. “I want to eat you out." He finishes.

You nod at his proposal. You get off from his lap (your arousal slightly darkening a patch on his light jeans) and you lay on your back. Donghyuck goes in front of you and plops on his stomach. You are buzzing with anticipation as he spreads your legs open, hands caressing your thighs and ghosting over that area where you want it the most. Donghyuck lifts his head a little to admire you: breathing heavily, erect nipples and the undeniable arousal drenching your pink lace panties.

Donghyuck's arousal is straining through his sweatpants so he decides to discard it. He is left in his white, skin tight boxers with a faint outline of his dick. Then, he situates himself between your thighs. Instead of removing your panties, he decides to tease you a little through them, gently sliding his middle finger up and down your clothed wetness.

“So fucking wet, baby” he muses.

You bite your finger as he torturously drags his long finger up and down your clothed cunt.

“Ah shit,” you moan. "Fuck me good, Hyuck."

He pulls your underwear aside and starts dragging his finger on your cunt for real. He does small shallow thrusts and proceeds to drag his finger out. Donghyuck is doing this repeatedly almost in a torturous manner.

"Fuck, go faster,"

He doesn't go faster. Instead he situates himself between your legs and puts his tongue on your soaked cunt. You can't help but moan as he licks a stripe up while spreading your lips, maximizing the sensitivity you feel. You are gripping his sheets hard and moaning his name along with strings of “oh fuck, yes please”. He moves his mouth upwards and starts licking your clit, putting harsh but enjoyable pressure. Donghyuck proceeds to put a finger inside you slowly, up to his second knuckle, then another one, drawing out a moan.

“Look at my fingers baby, so fucking wet.” he lifted his fingers up for you to see.

“I want more, faster, Hyuck, I’m going to cum.”

He smiles at you. “No. you’re not allowed to cum until I fuck you with my dick.”

You groan. You look at him and he is now kneeling, a hand situated on his now somewhat translucent boxers, outline of his dick now visible. He then strokes himself through his boxers as he stares right at you. Donghyuck is biting his lip softly as he takes out his dick and starts playing with the tip.

“You like it when I stroke myself while you watch, baby?” His eyes are hooded and he is already sweaty.

“Yes,” you said. “fuck yes.”

“Put it in your mouth,” Donghyuck motions for you to come closer.

You put his dick in your mouth and start engulfing his dick. His abdomen becomes taut as he groans and starts threading his hand on your hair.

“So good, baby. Always so good,” he rasps.

You continue hollowing your cheek and putting him in your mouth as deep as you can. You bob your head up and down and when you look up, Donghyuck looks absolutely

“Baby,” Donghyuck's voice is husky. “Baby stop, i want to cum inside you."

“Lie on your back,” Donghyuck commands as he strips himself of his boxers.

You waste no time and you lay on your back, waiting for his instructions. He props a pillow under your head and by doing so, you feel his erection on your thigh. He takes one last glance at you: nipples fully erect, cheeks flushed, your body sweaty, and your pussy absolutely drenched. He then starts inserting his dick in your aching pussy.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he chants. “you’re so fucking tight and wet.” Then he pushes himself up to the hilt.

“Full,” you whisper and meet his eyes, “so dman full.”

Donghyuck groans and starts thrusting at an erratic pace. It feels so full and hot that you can’t stop moaning his name over and over again. You can feel his cock slide in and out of your soaked cunt. He clasps his hands just above where your ribs end firmly as he starts fucking you faster, hips snapping up and you can’t help but arch your back.

Donghyuck is definitely enjoying the view and he reaches his hand out to pinch your nipples. You moan. You can definitely feel your impending orgasm.

“Hyuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum,” you look at him and his thrusts go harder. “oh god I’m gonna cum Donghyuck.”

“Cum, baby.” He puts his hand on your clit and starts rubbing with his thumb, hoping to bring you closer to orgasm.

You feel the coil getting tighter and hotter. Then you come, long and hard and your body feels like jelly.

"I'm almost there baby, fuck," he chants as he trusts so deliciously in you and your body can't take much longer. You know he has the full intention of overstimulating you and it feels good. His cock feels so raw in your pussy and you can't help but feel another orgasm.

The feeling of his cock sliding so smoothly inside of you then out then in again while your chests were in such close proximity and he is directly groaning in your ear. Donghyuck seems to be enjoying himself as his groans are becoming huskier and more prolonged as he told you, “Baby you’re so fucking tight, so tight around my cock.” He goes back to kissing you sloppily, your teeth biting his lower lip as he glares at you so menacingly and hot.

“Hyuck, baby I’m g-going to cum again.” you inform him as he lifts himself and wipes with drool on the edge of your mouth.

“Let’s cum together, eh?” he asks and you nod.

Donghyuck pulls out of you and you are about to protest until he speaks “Ass up for me baby,” he says.

Your body sings in anticipation as this is the first time, after a long while, he is going to take you from behind. You stuck your ass out and you feel him slap your cunt then insert his finger in your pussy and slaps your ass this time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he starts. then he suddenly thrust his dick inside your pussy and moans in your ear, “So fucking good.” Donghyuck then starts to grip your breasts from behind, pinching your nipples as his thrusts became more erratic.

“’Gonna cum, shit shit” He groans. The rhythmic slapping of your bodies is so sinful it turns him on.

You moan gripping his sheets, you can swear your knuckles are so white from the grip.

“I'm so close baby, so close.” Donghyuck is massaging your breast.

“Hyuck, please, Hyuck I'm so close.”

Donghyuck's thrusts are getting more erratic and you are positive that you’re going to cum soon. Then, you feel Donghyuck hugging you from behind. The act feels so intimate that you can't help but clench and then both of you are cumming. Donghyuck gives one last thrust then he pulls out. He look at your backside: his cum dripping out from your cunt, then to your thighs and that looks absolutely erotic.

“I'm gonna clean you up, okay baby?" He says, “Just lay there and I’ll take care of you.”

He goes to get towels and you lay on your back. He comes back and passes the small towel over your thighs and then your pussy carefully, knowing you're still sensitive. “Feeling okay?” he asks when he finishes it up, throwing the towel somewhere in the room and laying on the bed next to you.

You hum, smiling lazily at him. “just sleepy.” You reply and he moves to press a small kiss on your lips.

"Then sleep, baby," he surrounds you with his arms, you resting your head on his chest.

You raise your head a bit, looking at him. "Are you sleeping with me?"

He nods. His finger touches the tip of your nose and he smirks. “I never notice you had a mole here.” He says.

"Yeah, you're kind of a dick," you giggle, tracing his abdomen with your fingers.

"I am," he sighs. "I'm sorry. I was too selfish denying my feelings for you and thought behaving like a dick would push you away."

"And I almost did," he kisses the top of your head. "I'm sorry, y/n."

"It's okay," you say. "As long as you don't do it again because this time I'm gonna be the one breaking your other collarbone."

He laughs. "I'm not ever letting you go, baby. I love you."

"I love you."

#Donghyuck smut #Donghyuck x reader #donghyuck imagine #Haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan imagine #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct haechan #nct haechan x reader

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