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chrzzboo · 2 days

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(Un)forgettable Birthday

Summary: You've never been a fan of your own birthday but that changes thanks to a certain F1 driver.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

Note: I'm back from the death 🤪 I know it's been a while and i deeply apologize for it 🙏 but school has been a mess with deadlines everywhere. to make it up to y'all I'm back with a new fic. Enjoy!

Loud music drilling into my eardrums, colorfull lights decorating the place and people’s chatter filling the room. I’m currently at my close friend’s Kika’s birthday party, accompanied by my boyfriend Lando. Speaking of him I don’t know where that guy is but he’s probably doing Lando things somewhere so I couldn’t care less. Right now I’m talking with a few of my friends and the birthday girl herself.

“Wauw Kika you planned this party so well!” “Yes, honestly one of the best ones I’ve been to in a while!” Was heard from Carmen and her sister. Kika smiled “I know right! All thanks to Pierre he helped me plan most of it!” I smiled seeing her happy. “You’re very lucky Kika!”

We continued chatting spilling the tea that we hadn’t told each other yet and were just joking around as well.

I was feeling so comfortable until the topic of birthdays came to light again.

“Y/n your birthday is in a couple of days, what are the plans?” I started moving around a bit uncomfortably on my feet before replying. “Euhm I don’t know birthdays aren’t really my thing.” All the girls looked at me with frowns on their faces. “What do you mean? Celebrating your birthday is one of the most important things in your life!”. I looked at her not very convinced. “I mean it’s just like any other day it’s not like I’ve ever celebrated it. It’s just a normal day for me tbh.” The girls looked at me with a sad smile before Carmen broke the silence. “At the end of the day it’s your birthday so it’s up to you what you do.” I smiled at her thanking her for understanding me.

I quickly changed the subject because it was making me kinda uncomfortable since I don’t like it when other people feel bad for me. So we carried on talking and without noticing that Lando had heard everything despite the loud music.

~~~

Later that night Lando had found his way back to me and we were currently enjoying each others company. Lando had his arms wrapped around my waist from the back while I rested my head on his chest enjoying the vibe around me. Lando kept thinking back about your words from earlier it all makes sense now. Because every single time he had asked you what you wanted to do for your birthday you declined it stating that you were too busy with work. He shook of those thoughts and decided to bring it up again.

“Are you enjoying yourself love?” I looked at him smiling. “Very much!” Lando hums meanwhile trying to figure out how to ask you about your birthday.

“Babe question but don’t get angry please”. I look at him confused “Baby what did you do?” Now fully turning to face him. He pulls me closer and holds me tighter.

“Nothing nothing don’t worry about it! But first promise!” I roll my eyes at him. “Alright I promise!” “Babe say: I promise I won’t get mad at you!” I looked at him annoyed “Lando!” “Alright alright” he took a hold of my hands and started speaking again. “What do you want for your birthday?” I sigh looking at him. “I told you already my birthday is just like any other day so I don’t need anything.”

Well that’s kinda a lie the only truth is that I don’t need a gift from him since I don’t like him spending money on me. But to be honest I’ve never had a birthday party or anyone caring about it. When I was younger my parents didn’t pay attention to me at all so why would they even bother giving me a nice birthday. At uni people only congratulated me with their words nothing much and the same goes to my work colleagues. So that’s why I always told people I didn’t like my birthday simply because I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never had the birthday experience everyone else had before.

“Babe I don’t know who put those words in your head but you’re important and so is your birthday! I mean we’ve got to celebrate the day that my amazing sexy gorgeous girlfriend was born.” I laughed at his words “I appreciate that love but there’s more to that than a simple birthday party.”

Lando looked at me confused before I decided to tell him the truth. He looked at me with wide eyes. He knew that my bond with my parents wasn’t the best but forgetting about their child’s birthday was something he didn't understand.

“Anyways we’re at a party we have to enjoy our selfs and not mop around.” Before he could reply to me I was swept away by one of my friends to go and get some drinks.

Lando kept staring at me watching me disappear in the crowd. “Yo bro what are you doing here all alone? People are gonna think you’re a weirdo or sum staring at everyone like that.” Was heard from his bestfriend max.

Lando stared at max for a few seconds before getting an idea. “I want to throw a surprise birthday party for y/n” Max looked at him confused. “Birthday party? Doesn’t y/n hate them?” “Well yeah but there was a reason for that and all I know is that we can heal her inner child with throwing a birthday party for her. So are you gonna help me?”

Max looked at him surprised, he knew that you two had an amazing relationship but he didn’t expect Lando to do this much for you.

“Alright bro I will but stop staring at me with that creepy smile as if you sitting here alone wasn’t already creepy enough.”

~~~

The following days Lando kept himself busy with all the arrangements for your birthday. Even though he was busy with his work he always found a gap to fix stuff for your birthday surprise.

Currently he was at home on the phone with Max deciding the last few things to finish off the secret birthday party.

“Alright so you have the invitations ready right?” Lando asked his best friend. “Of course all we have to do is sent them out without y/n noticing.” Lando hums “Yeah exactly we have to be extremely careful because y/n always finds out about the smallest things.”

He laughs remembering one time he had planned a surprise date but it was all ruined because you had figured it out, all because you heard him make a reservation on the phone for a restaurant.

“Alright Max send me the invites and I will send them out.” “What invites?” Lando looked at you nervously. “Euhm Max I will call you back.”

Without letting him reply Lando hung up the phone. “Oh baby you’re back early?” You looked at him confused “what do you mean ? I always come back around this time?” Lando gulped hoping you didn’t hear the entire conversation. “But answer me Lando what invites were you talking about.” Lando looks around trying to find an excuse. “Euhm a friend of Max needed invitations and he asked me where I had gotten mine done from my party last year.”

You look at him not very convinced but decided to let it slide. “Okey… anyways let’s go eat I’m starving.” Lando sighs in relief happy that you fell for his lie. “Alright baby you go first I will come right after.”

Later that night laying in bed Lando was occupied by his phone. “Babe can you put that phone down for a second and give me attention please.”

Lando looked at me for a second and quickly turned back to his phone. “One second babe this is important” “But that’s what you’ve been saying all day long.” Without sparing a glance at me Lando replied with a quick “Please baby I will give you all my attention after this.”

Suddenly his phone starts ringing and he goes out of the room to take it but not without quickly kissing my forehead. I huff and turn to the other side to sleep.

The next day when I woke up Lando was nowhere to be seen, so I figured that he went to the gym.

Getting up I went to wash up and get ready for the day. While I was getting ready I got a sudden thought. It’s kinda weird how Lando went from bugging me about my birthday to radio silence in a few days. I brushed it off figuring it was probably because he’s so occupied with racing and all.

Going into the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself, the calendar on the board in kitchen caught my eye. Checking the date I got a little sad knowing that it’s my birthday tomorrow.

“Honestly I would sell my kidney to be able to skip tomorrow.” (Dramatic much innit) Sighing I go back to what I was doing.

The next day I woke up without Lando next to me again. I hoped that he would’ve stayed a bit longer in bed to wish me at least a happy birthday.

“Maybe he left a message or something.” I grab my phone but I see nothing. Only a few congratulations from my co-workers and friends but that’s it. Not even from my own boyfriend.

I’m used to be disappointed on my birthday but even then when my boyfriend would congratulate me it would make me a bit less sad but I guess today is going to be full of disappointment. I got out of bed to get ready for the day.

While I was making breakfast I got a text from Kika.

I smile at her message. At first I wanted to decline her offer but then I thought about the fact that my own boyfriend didn’t do shit for my birthday so why not.

“This is the least I could do to get that birthday feeling I guess.” Sighing to myself I reply to her and started to get ready.

~~~

“There she is the beautiful birthday girl.” Kika immediately engulfs me in a hug followed by the rest of the girls.

“Hey why do you look so sad girly cheer up it’s your birthday!” I looked at here with a forced smile deciding not to tell her the truth about Lando and all that.

“Nothing nothing let’s go bestie your wallet needs to spent some money on me.” I smirk winking at her. She gives me a fake angry huff but it's quickly replaced with a laugh since she can’t stay serious for a moment. “Alright girly let’s go!”

~~~

I was having an amazing time but I kept checking my phone with hopes for a message from my boyfriend. But every time I was met with disappointment. I didn’t want the girls to question it so I put on a fake smile and carried on with the lunch date.

“Alright girls it was a nice lunch but I have to go.” “NO!” Kika yelled panicked making me confused.

“Euhm you can’t leave yet we have to get you a cake first girly.” She looked quite nervous.

“You know that you don’t have to right.” I looked at her with suspicion. “Euhm.. I know but we wanted to so let’s go!”

And with that I was pulled into Kika’s car heading to what I assumed was a bakery.

“Francesca we’ve been driving for a while now how far is this bakery actually?”

I stared to get annoyed because we had been on the road for half an hour now and the rest of the girls that were with us during lunch also disappeared but I was too annoyed to even ask about them.

“We’re here girl calm your tits yeah.” I stepped out of the car but I was met with a big building. Looking at Kika confused I decided to ask her about this.

“Girl I ain’t no baker or anything but this is for sure no bakery.” She looked at me sheepishly. “Doesn’t matter girl let’s go in.”

Before I could even reply she dragged me in. The place was dark but I could tell that it was big.

“Kika what in the world is this?” Without saying anything to me she pushed me forward. And before I could question her even more the lights suddenly turned on.

“SURPRISE!!!”

I was shocked I stood there frozen trying to process everything. Everyone that I knew was there: my friends, family, colleagues and most importantly my boyfriend.

I was pulled out of my shocked state by Lando pulling me into him. “Happy birthday beautiful you deserve all of this.” I couldn't contain my emotions and soon the tears started pouring down my face.

“You did all of this?” I looked at him still shocked. He smiled and wiped my tears away.

“Of course baby like I said before you deserve it.” “I thought you forgot.” I tell him with new tears pooling in my eyes.

“I could never baby I’ve been planning this all week long, I told you we had to celebrate the day my sexy and gorgeous girl was born.”

I smile at him slightly pushing his shoulder laughing at his words. I pull him by his collar and connect our lips together.

“Thank you so much Lan this means the world to me.” Before he could reply Kika came in between us.

“Girl c'mon we have to celebrate properly you can eat each other’s faces later.” She winks. “C’mon beautiful let’s enjoy this day.” I smile taking his hand. For the first time in my life I enjoyed my own birthday.

~~~

I had a blast we danced, sang, drank and I even got presents! This day was simply amazing but also a bit overwhelming so I went to get some fresh air outside.

“Here you’re birthday girl, I was looking for you beautiful. What are you doing here alone?”

I smile a the voice of my boyfriend. “I wanted a bit of fresh air it was all a bit too overwhelming.”

He smiled sitting down next me. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to his chest.

“I understand pretty girl, but you deserve all of this you know?.” He said kissing the top of my head. “It’s just nice to finally have a real birthday. Thank you so much baby.” “Of course beautiful today is all about you and I just wanted to show you that you also matter.”

I smile looking up at him. “Thank you handsome for making this an unforgettable birthday. I love you.” He smiles grabbing my face with both of his hands and joining our lips together. “I love you too baby.”

He gives me one more kiss before standing up. “Let’s go back inside pretty girl, and enjoy the rest of your special day.” He holds his hand out for me to take. With our fingers laced together we head back inside.

It’s safe to say that for the first time in my life my birthday felt like an actual birthday and all it took was an amazing man that drives cars for a living to fulfill my wish.

The end.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #formula one #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando fanfic #lando f1 #f1 fluff #f1 fic #Spotify

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imaluckygirl · 1 day

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⭑ tastes better because of you

( enhypen reaction )

synopsis: why does his orders always tastes better? — where you ask or get them to switch drinks/food after tasting his ; because his orders are always better.

( 엔하이픈 ) - hyungline!fem.reader ( maknae ver. ) ; fluff & some domestic content

୨ৎ back to the bookshelf . . .

note: hi . . . me after disappearing and appearing all of a sudden hehe ,, didn’t really checked this one ( just took a quick look as i was adding some stuff ) so it might have some grammar errors ; forgive me ><

warnings : mentions of food.

i can picture heeseung's brows going up, because he couldn't understand what you just said. however, the first time it happened he acted like it was completely normal.

when heeseung and you started dating for a month, he decided to celebrate his free time with you, asking you to go out with him to a cafeteria, get a coffee, kiss, hug, hold hands and take pictures. that was the plan. heeseung was a frequent costumer at that cafeteria, so when he walked in with you, he already knew what he wanted to order — even receiving greetings from the workers ( and not gonna lie, you got a little bit jealous back then ). “yeah, and for her is... what do you want to order baby?” your boyfriend whispered at you while he gazed at you looking at the coffee options. pouting at some options, you finally decided what you wanted to order. he then proceeded to finish the order and respectfully thanked the cashier, holding your hands once again after you thanked the cashier as after him.

waiting for his order, heeseung spent this minutes talking with you. since it has been just one month you two began to date, he was still a bit shy and hesitant, afraid that he might make you uncomfortable. when the barista called that familiar name, heeseung — still holding your hands — walked to the counter, handed the man the receipt and handed you your drink; taking a sip of his after thanking the barista with a smile.

walking out of the cafeteria, you took a sip of your drink and it was good. “what do you think?” he asked you. “it's good.” you shrugged with a smile, shyly nodding. “do you wanna to try mine?” oh, our naive boy... you remembered hearing his drink of choice and you kinda scrunched your nose, not really impressed or interested. however, when he insisted for you to try it — yelling in the middle of the street “just try it babe!” — and you took a hesitant sip, your mind was blown. “it’s so good.” your eyes were widen and your brows went up in surprise. your boyfriend chuckled, asking: “did you?” smiling widely. and then you nodded and he asked the fatidic question: “wanna switch?” “no, i’m okay...” you shyly answered, feeling your cheeks burning because of your exaggerated reaction over a drink; embarrassing yourself in front of your one month love while you enjoyed your blend boring drink.

nowadays things are completely different. a new kind of intimacy had bloomed, steps forward from puppy love to a more mature one. with that, the level of shyness was close to zero and you felt more free to talk to heeseung without blushing every single time, or feeling like you were being inconvenient. so, whenever you go out with your boyfriend and he orders something, you ask him for a bite or a sip — saying that you were saving him time. “is it good?” you asked heeseung, your mouth slight watering at the sight of his ice cream. before he could answer, you said: “can i have some?” you blinked your eyes at him, sending your puppy eyes directly to his heart. he just handed you his spoon and moved his arm closer to your hand; so you could scoop some of his ice cream, and obviously his ice cream tasted so much better. but oh well, i think he would rather sharing both ice creams than actually switching with you, still, every time you order something you don't like, heeseung is there to save you.

let's talk about jongseong now. we know that he's very caring and loves to pamper you, so you expected he would just say “sure.” and give you some of his coffee. however, when you asked your boyfriend if you could try his drink, probably he would chuckle a little, exposing his beautiful smile and playfully take a sip of his drink. “i thought you said you don't like coffee?” he cocked a brow, teasing you. “yeah, but i want to try it now.” you pouted. “you can try some of mine if you wan-” “here, try it.” he handed you the drink with a soft grin, like jongseong was mesmerised by your cuteness. — how did he get so lucky to have you for himself?

okay, let's say you didn't like the drink, what would he say? “i told you so.” or something, laughing at your scrunched nose and squinted eyes, all of that because of the strong coffee flavour; you thought you would get familiar with — at least you hoped so. but, in the other hand, if you actually liked his drink he would simply say: “let’s switch them then.” and just shrug. and, don't you dare saying no to him. if he baby likes it, his baby gets it. — couple goals...

another situation that this can happen is when he’s off work and goes get you take-out like you were craving the whole week. i mean, he cooks for you, but sometimes you just want a greasy industrial food; and not a homemade soup or something. and honestly, if you are feeling guilty about it, brush this feeling away, jongseong is just like you: he has these times where he just don’t want to cook, but he DENIES to see you in the kitchen. you still don’t know if this was an excuse to make him feel better for not feeding you 'real' food or if he was honestly scared to see you making a mess at the kitchen and accidently blowing up the house...

alright, let me get straight to the point! he text you saying that he was going home. once he walked in the living room, he was met with the cutest scene — you wearing your cozy pyjamas with your fringe slipped back by the pink headband you bought last time he went at daiso with you. “you look so cute.” and when you saw him your body jumped, surprised by him and embarrassed. “h-hi...”

“did you like it?” your boyfriend asked if you liked the burger you ordered. “yeah...” feeling your unsure and disappointed tone he smirked. “want to try mine?” and when you slowly nodded and pursed your lips, getting closer to him across the table and hesitantly taking a bite of his burger, jongseong could tell your eyes shined. “good?” he asked while you sat back on your chair, enjoying the savory burger. this time you instantly nodded, making your boyfriend smile. “here.” and surprisingly he had ordered another one, just for you because he knows you so well. although he bought you a brand new one, you insisted that you preferred the one he was eating because it tasted somehow kinda different — even though it was the same burger, it wasn’t the same flavour.

i can imagine how long it would take for jaeyun get your hints that you didn’t like your drink/food that much and wanted to try his. you remember the scene of both of you just sitting on a park bench, and keep in mind that this encounter was in the very beginning of his relationship with you. i mean, jaeyun is not dumb because let’s be real, back then his favorite subject was physics and math; numbers, letters and all of that math things we’ll never use in our daily life. anyway, you got my point. however, even though you knew jaeyun since middle school, when you started dating him you really thought he was kinda dumb, when he actually was just too focused on you. for an example, one day you were holding hands with him and when you were about to cross the street, jaeyun almost got ran over by a car. don’t even ask me how this happened, it just happened.

okay, let’s continue: as you sat on the bench by your boyfriend’s side, and you were clearly NOT enjoying your drink and trying to give him hints by making a disgusted face after taking a sip of your drink while replying to one of his random questions. you couldn’t tell if he was ignoring your hints or actually not realising. you preferred to believe he wasn’t getting them. nowadays you would probably distinguish in a second and tell him what you want right away; and jaeyun is less stupid because he matured and became an adult. “baby,” he called you with a frow, and your eyes shined, thinking he finally realised. “what if we moved together in the future and get a dog?” you sigh, but still replied him calmly.

after a few minutes taking small sips of your drink, you got the courage to ask your boyfriend if you could have some of his drink. “of course baby!” he would flash his head at you the second you call him, moving his focus from the little boy petting his dog’s head and handing you the drink with a sweet smile. you smiled back, taking a sip of his drink and damn he’s drink of choice was MUCH better. actually, you found out later that it was the same coffee but he added something different ( like an extra ) and that little something changed the entire drink’s flavour. of course he knew what was better, you remember how much you’ve seen that coffee’s shop logo back in high school.

“did you like your drink?” he would ask you after you took a long sip from his drink. “yeah, it’s okay...” when he saw how your lips pouted and you shrugged; speaking in a low tone voice, he asked you softly: “did you like mine better?” and when you nodded he smiled. “okay, give me yours and you can have mine.” you definitely wasn’t expecting your boyfriend to kiss your cheeks and lips after taking your ordered drink out of your hands. he was trying to hide a smile and hold in a giggle, ending up in some weird mouth/guttural sounds?

nowadays, as i previously mentioned, jaeyun got more mature as expected and got to know you better for a long period of time. even though you were his best friend a long time before both of you confessed to have feelings for each other in your late days of high school — close to the graduation day where he asked you. your boyfriend kept being kinda silly around you but he’s more observant. not completely because he still has that unique and authentic puppy personality you always cherished, and sometimes you can tell when he’s pretending to not get your hints just to see your cute frustrated frown and kiss that pout out of your lips, saying that he understood that you didn’t like your drink/food that much.

sunghoon would be completely silent. like, he would immediately realise you didn’t like your drink because he is more of an observant than an speaker. it’s funny how jaeyun and sunghoon contrast with each other.

usually he goes out with you, and one day he decided he wanted to book a fly to japan with you, to spend a whole month exploring tokyo, osaka, and spend time with you at the best restaurants and cute coffee shops he could find in the internet. even though, as i always say, sunghoon doesn’t show or look like an affectionate person, he is, but he loves in silence, and waits for the right time to let it show. he feels safe with this type of love/relationship, and you never showed signs of being uncomfortable with how he deals with his feelings. i think it was always a lot for him to process, but we’ll talk about those feelings in another opportunity.

in japan your boyfriend told you he knew a cute coffee shop in tokyo, and he was definitely not admitting too soon he was following a account named: ‘best of japan restaurants’ ( with an underscore between japan and restaurants ) — he also followed some of riki’s advice.

arriving at the cute coffee shop — that looked more like a chic boutique if someone passes by the place in a rush —, sunghoon had already planned everything, so there was an booked table just for both of you. right after he walked in — with your with your hand attached to his and warmed up in his coat’s pocket — hearing the sound of a bell ringing and an feminine voice exclaiming ‘WELCOME!’ in japanese; and watching an young lady approaching. — “こんにちはようこそ！テーブルは予約しましたか、それともテーブルを選びたいですか?” “sunghoon, call riki to help us…”

okay, this is a funny story so i’ll probably tell you later, but after spending a good minutes trying to explain the attendant that he had an table booked under his name, she finally gave both of you a green light. as the menu got placed onto the table by the japanese lady, you began to look for something and your boyfriend seemed to do the same as you, but asking: “what did you liked in the menu pretty?” and you would blush. when you told him what you wanted and he struggled once again to order in japanese, a few minutes later your drinks and pastries arrived. “looks good.” sunghoon hummed and took a sip of his drink, waiting for you reaction after trying yours. and when you smacked your lips twice he knew you didn’t liked it.

with that information, he looked at you and sighed, switching the drinks and proceeding to take a sip of your order. “it’s good, keep this one,” he pointed to his order. “i like this one better.” and you pout, but still tries really hard to hold in a big smile — even though he can still see your cheeks getting red.

and he did this every time since then, already being able to tell if you liked something or did not. — and that counts at social events too.

extra note: maybe i should post an sunghoon headcanon about this trip to japan + a ot7 enhypen scenario/thoughts — what do you guys think?

taglist: @jakesangel . . . ( wanna join? send me an ask ! )

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starlostseungmin · 3 days

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husband!changbin

✰ notes: finally a changbin fic after 2 years omg and i apologize for posting this late as i was busy studying !! special mention to @l3visbby for giving me ideas <33 not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

ꔛ

Husband Changbin who proposed on a random Thursday evening when you were on a car ride home. He suddenly parked the car by the sidewalk and asked the million-dollar question that would determine your relationship in the future.

Husband Changbin who would always ask you to hold his hand while driving.

Husband Changbin who is tough on the outside but sweet and soft inside. He’s the cutest human being in your life.

Husband Changbin who would send pictures of him while he’s at the gym making you giggle and blush every time. Sometimes he would ask you to work out with him as a form of bond, “You need to exercise to be healthy!”

Husband Changbin whose muscles you want to bite (he would say yes) that you would often ask him to headlock you but he’d refuse because he might choke you later.

Husband Changbin who loves taking an interest in your hobbies and asks you to teach him. (e.g. if you happened to like crocheting then he would gladly pick up his favorite colors of yarn and crochet Dwaekki). At first, he would mess it up and complain playfully but he gets it later on.

Husband Changbin who spoils you A LOT and lets you use his card.

Husband Changbin who’s loud and gets even louder when he’s with his friends.

Husband Changbin who has the most precious and contagious laugh.

Husband Changbin notices everything subtly and gives you the things you want without you asking for it.

Husband Changbin who loves showing you off, enjoys writing songs about you, and telling everyone how great you are, how much he loves you, and how he is so proud of having you in his life.

Husband Changbin whose love languages are words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gift-giving.

Husband Changbin who loves taking photos of you. He would often ask you to pose on a pretty scenery/background so he could choose something to be his home screen later on.

Husband Changbin who takes you on a trip once a month and goes to your favorite places when you need to get off from work.

Husband Changbin who is protective and makes sure you don’t get hurt. He takes care of you diligently, tells you to eat on time, and nags you (lovingly yet strictly) like a mother when something he doesn’t like happens.

Husband Changbin who would put you first before everything and let the world burn just to save you.

Husband Changbin who panics when he sees you crying and sad. He would automatically capture you in his arms as he whispers how much he loves you and that he’s always there when you need him.

Husband Changbin who’s calm when you’re having an argument and tries his best to make up with you. He’s the type to never let anyone sleep in this household unless everything is fine. He may lose his temper sometimes but apologizes a few minutes later.

Husband Changbin who refuses to leave your shared apartment without you giving him a sweet kiss and showers you with kisses when he gets home.

Husband Changbin who loves cuddles on random nights after having a very long day until you two fall asleep on the couch or your shared bed.

Husband Changbin who loves to joke around but when he noticed that you weren’t laughing he’d turn away out of embarrassment and sulk at the corner making you baby him.

Husband Changbin who acts cute and makes questionable noises to get what he wants which you would immediately give in to.

Husband Changbin who would bring up the topic of having kids in the most subtle way but just like the other members, he doesn’t pressure you and lets you decide whenever you’re ready to have one or two with him.

Husband Changbin who never misses a call or text from you and updates you a lot whenever he can despite his busy schedule.

Husband Changbin whom you promised to love to the moon and back no matter what challenges come in your way. You never said your vows for nothing and will love him to eternity.

Husband Changbin who loves you more than anyone and promised to stay with you until death do you part.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍��𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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hgfictionwriter · 14 hours

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High Definition

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie travels a lot and if she can’t have you with her, she wants the next best thing, some high def photos and videos of you. Jessie gets carried away as she starts to build her collection.

Warning: Smut. Masturbation, strapping, rough sex, mentions of breeding (sorry folks!). And language, of course.

A/N: LOVED this request. Thank you so much to whoever submitted it. Hope you all enjoy.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your kiss with Jessie as you ran your hands through her wavy hair. She moved a leg upwards, nudging yours further apart. You obliged with a small chuckle and wrapped them around her.

Jessie tilted her head and began kissing you deeper. Her hips subconsciously rolled against you as she felt herself growing wetter as you two carried on.

“How much do you love me?” Jessie asked between kisses, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You kissed her again and caressed her cheek. “A lot. Why?”

“Enough to try something for me?” Jessie continued as she kissed along your jawline.

“Mmm, such as what?” You asked a smile in your voice.

Jessie pulled back enough to look you in your eyes. “I want to take pictures of you. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to record you as well.”

You paused as you processed her request. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. She held your gaze as she awaited your response. You were about to open your mouth when she spoke up.

“I know that’s a big ask. But, I’m away so much it would be so amazing to have that kind of thing with me. I know privacy and security is probably a huge concern - I have a whole plan for how I can make sure I am the only one who ever, ever sees it. And if you ever want me to get rid of it, I’ll delete everything - no questions asked.”

“Jess.” You said her name as you thumbed her rosy cheek. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t be flippant or careless about this.” You took a small breath. “Sure. Okay. Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed her freckled face.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” you assured her, though you felt a blush start to form. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

“We don’t have to if-”

You held a finger up to her lips. “It’s okay, babe. I want to. But, you have to tell me what you want. I’ve never done this before.”

Jessie beamed again and she kissed you eagerly.

“Me neither. But I’ve thought about it more than I care to admit, so, don’t worry. I’ll direct you,” she finished with a wink.

“Okay, stud,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you playfully shoved against her shoulders.

Jessie began kissing you again and soon she had lifted your shirt over your head and discarded it. She sat back on her heels momentarily before hopping off of the bed and retrieving her phone.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” You asked, suddenly nervous and self-consciously wrapping an arm across your chest even though you still donned your bra.

“Don’t worry, you look stunning. Always,” Jessie assured you. “And honestly, if you feel uncomfortable and want to stop at any point. Just say so.”

“Okay,” you nodded. You let out a small breath. “I’m ready - what do you want?”

Jessie stood up on the bed, now towering over you phone in hand.

“Okay, put your arms behind you and lean back. Look up at me,” she instructed. You did as you were told. “Mm. You look gorgeous, baby. Okay, now tuck your legs under you - yeah, like that.” She took a couple more pictures.

“You’re a natural,” she said with a wink. “Okay, take your bra off.”

“Oh gosh,” you said though you took it off and tossed it aside. You instinctively cupped your breasts and looked up at her.

“Oh fuck,” Jessie said as she began taking more pictures. A shiver went through her as you bit your lip and pushed your breasts together. “That’s perfect.”

“Yeah? I wish they were your hands,” you told her with a smirk. She dropped down onto the bed and kissed you.

“All in good time,” she promised before sitting back. “Okay, can you lean back into the pillows this time? And, here,” she moved with you and leaned down, kissing your stomach, trailing kisses downward until she got to the waistband of your jeans. She gave your skin a short lick and she reached up to undo them until she could see your underwear. She smiled and sat back taking another photo.

“Kay.” She looked at you, studying you for a moment before continuing. “I want you to put your hand down your pants and touch yourself.”

You couldn’t help the short laugh that came from you and your cheeks began to burn.

“It’s okay, baby,” she told you soothingly. “I’ll help.” She climbed up your body and kissed you deeply as she laced your fingers together and brought your hand to your pants. She unlaced them and laid her hand on top of yours before guiding your hand under the band of your panties and exploring downward. She brought your hand to your clit and used your fingers to circle and then slip through your folds. You moaned and your head fell further back into the pillows.

“Just like that, baby,” she whispered as she pulled back and retrieved her phone once more. She chewed the inside of her lip as you spread your legs and slowly ground your hips up and down into your hand, your eyes closed. “Christ, you’re so hot,” Jessie praised as she took photos.

“Mmm, Jess,” you moaned, eyes still closed as you played with your clit and rolled your hips.

“Oh fuck, babe,” Jessie breathed, her own core pulsing with arousal now. She didn’t realize how her breathing had both quickened and deepened as she continued to photograph you.

“I need to see more of you,” she went on, lust heavy in her voice. You opened your eyes to look at her and she reached up and began shimmying your pants down your legs. “Mmm,” she voiced as she tossed them aside and leaned forward, her hands on your thighs as she kissed her way up towards your core. She could see how soaked your panties were and your scent was driving her wild.

“Mmm, Jess,” you repeated, your voice more desperate this time. You bit your lip at the growl she let out.

“I want to film you this time,” Jessie told you as sat back and held up her phone again. She didn’t hit record until she got a nod of affirmation out of you.

You dipped your fingers down through your wet folds again, tracing around your entrance before retreating back up to circle your clit.

“Jessie,” you breathed.

“Yes, baby girl,” she responded as she filmed you, her jaw slack as she watched you work.

“Do you know how wet you make me?”

Jessie grunted. “Let’s see, baby girl,” she said as she reached out with her free hand and moved your panties aside to see your slick entrance. “Fuck,” she breathed in reverence as she dipped two fingers inside, pulling a high moan out of you as your hips lifted to follow her fingers. “You’re so gorgeous.” Jessie’s jaw fell further as you pushed two fingers in alongside hers, stretching you out. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

It took concerted effort for Jessie to keep you in frame as her eyes were fixated on your core. She shook out her head and withdrew her fingers to tug at the waistband of your underwear.

“I want to see you fully,” she told you as she sat back to get your face into frame again. You gave her an impish smirk and lifted your hips off the mattress to remove your panties.

You traced your fingers through your folds once more, now totally exposed. “See what you do to me?” You asked.

Jessie groaned deep in her throat as you dipped your fingers back inside of you and withdrew them, your cum glistening on your fingers. The wet sounds that came from each movement had Jessie aching between her legs.

She continued to film you while you softly moaned as you played with your clit. It took concerted effort for Jessie to not start feeling herself up and relieve at least some of her tension.

She noticed you quickening your pace and ended the video, setting down her phone right away and walking over to her nightstand.

She grinned when you tilted your head to follow her with your gaze, but you didn’t slow or falter your movements. Your body slowly gyrated, hips rocking into your hand and head pushing into the pillows behind you as you continued to please yourself and watch her.

“Let me help you,” Jessie announced as she slipped on her harness. You gave her an appreciative look as she climbed back onto the bed and retrieved her phone once again. Your expression turned curious.

“Are you going to film this too?” You asked, your voice hitching as a jolt of pleasure went through you.

“If you’re okay with it,” Jessie answered as she reached down and overtook your fingers, rubbing your clit for you instead. You released a loud moan and you buried your head into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as she took over. She smirked. “I need a ‘yes’, baby.”

“Yes,” you nearly gasped, your hands urgently clutching the sheets as Jessie dipped a couple of fingers inside again. You moaned once more, but eventually managed to open your eyes to look at her. “How are you going to do it?”

Jessie curled her fingers inside of you as she withdrew before pushing them back in. She bit back a smile as you writhed under her touch. “As much as I’d love to see your face, I think I’ll have the most control if I’m behind you and you’re on your hands and knees.”

You laughed through a moan and gave her an affectionate look. “Most control in more ways than one.”

Jessie’s smirk turned a bit coy for a second before she shrugged and gave you a nod. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” She withdrew her fingers and sat back.

You returned her smirk as you rose up and turned over so you were on your knees in front of her. “You know I’ll enjoy it.” You looked over your shoulder at her. “Why don’t you set the phone up on a stand of some kind? I want footage, too, but of us, not just me.” Jessie blushed.

“That’ll be the next stage, and for another time,” she said. She knew it wasn’t fair that she was filming you and she, herself, not being on camera, but she was going to have to work her way up to that.

“Mmm,” Jessie hummed, momentarily distracted as she grabbed your ass and kneaded it with her hand. She started rocking against you, the strap rubbing your clit and sliding through your folds. “You ready?”

You dropped down onto your forearms, your back arching before her, and you shifted your hips back to meet her, grinding yourself on her strap. “I’m all yours.”

Jessie drew her bottom lip between her teeth, a wide smile tugged at her mouth. She held up her phone so her torso, the strap and you were in view.

“Okay, here we go.” She hit record.

She ran the strap up and down your slick folds a few more times, relishing the way you were sensually grinding against it.

“Look at how gorgeous you are,” Jessie said, mouth slightly agape as she took you in. She wasn’t really intending to speak during these videos, but she couldn’t help it. You brought it out of her and seeing you like this made her feel intoxicated.

“Mm, stop teasing me, babe. I want you inside,” you pleaded as your leaned your shoulders further down, your arms stretching out and palming the bed.

“Mm, fuck,” she voiced as she lined herself up at your entrance. “Anything for you, babe,”

She shifted her hips forward and watched as the strap slowly entered you. Your drawn out moan was like a siren call to her.

She laid a hand on your hip as she rest inside of you, the strap as deep as it could go. She waited a moment before slowly drawing her hips back until just the tip was stretching you out. She tilted the phone a bit to fully capture how you were stretched tight around her, your entrance gripping her as if urging her not to pull out.

“Mm. Can’t wait to show you how good you stretch for me. How full you are with me inside you,” Jessie said, her voice hoarse with lust. You let out a needy moan, turned on by her narration. Jessie’s jaw hitched as she saw you flex around her, trying to draw her back in.

“You are so sexy,” Jessie said as she sunk in again to the hilt, slightly faster this time. She reached forward and ran a hand along the curve of your back, waiting a moment before withdrawing once more.

She continued like this for several more strokes. Taking her time to appreciate the different views and angles as she pleasured you. You mewled as she patiently fucked you, clenching and releasing the covers as she painstakingly slowly helped you ascend your peak.

“You’re so wanting, baby,” Jessie teased, knowing fully well what you needed.

“Baby, please. I need more,” you whined as you pushed your hips back into her, urging her to go faster and harder.

“Hold on, Princess,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cumming around my cock in no time.”

Jessie had really not been planning on this being part of the audio. But, hey, this is what sex was like with you two. She just had to be extremely sure this video never ever went beyond her own possession.

Jessie kneaded your ass again, grinding her teeth as she did so. She gripped you so hard your skin flashed white and then red when she released you. She wasn’t going to be able to hold back for much longer either.

She ran a hand along your side and leaned forward to cup your breast, massaging it in time with her slow strokes. She adored the way you arched your back, pushing your chest into her hand as she did so.

She pinched your nipple, drawing a gasp out of you before she leaned back once more. She watched on the screen as the strap pulled out of you, glistening with cum, before sliding back inside.

Jessie picked up her pace, and from the way your moans grew louder, you were more than ready. The sounds of her strap moving in and out of you filled the room and caused her to grow even wetter.

Your arms were outstretched in front of you, your head nearly resting on the bed and you began throwing your hips back to meet Jessie’s thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against hers now accompanied the wet sounds of the strap penetrating you.

Lust started to really take over for Jessie now. Her pace increased even further and she was starting to lose control as she grew even more transfixed on you.

She gripped your hips with her free hand and shifted so she planted a foot next to you, now only on one knee and bringing her hips further forward. This new angle let her generate greater force and leverage each stroke and sink even deeper inside of you.

Sharp, high pitched moans fell from your lips with each renewed thrust and Jessie grunted from both exertion and arousal. You looked incredible bouncing back on her cock like this. A loud clap echoed through the room as she slapped your ass. You let out your most heady moan yet as you threw your head back.

Jessie didn’t waste her opportunity and she reached out and grabbed your hair, tugging your head back as she continue to rail you from behind.

Wild, unhinged moans rose from your throat as Jessie pulled at you and hammered herself inside of you.

“You like that, babe?” She asked through grit teeth. “You like when I make you mine like this?”

“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breathy and high with need. “I love when you make me yours. You fill me and fuck me so good.”

“I love the way you groan for me,” Jessie grunted as she continued her relentless pace. The way you were taking her strap right now, the sounds you were making, the way you moved, everything, had Jessie teetering on the edge without you ever laying a finger on her.

“Fuck it,” she muttered as she dropped the phone onto the bed and released your hair to reach down with both hands and grab your wrists. She pulled your arms behind you and she leaned back again, pulling you with her, lifting you and suspending your upper body off the mattress as she continued to pound into you. Holding you like this anchored her to this spot and she fucked you senseless.

“You’re absolutely perfect. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel you around me. I’d never last.” She said, her voice shuddering with each movement.

“Oh god, Jess,” you moaned. “I wish you could cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” Jessie grunted, feeling a tidal wave of desire crash over her. She released your arms and wrapped her arms around your waist as she sat back on her heels, holding you now in her lap as she rut into you.

You reached down immediately to grip her forearms as you sought contact as she bounced you up and down on her cock. She reached down with one hand and began to rub your clit, drawing a cry out of you.

Jessie let out a light huff and kissed your back.

“Baby girl. You’re lucky I can’t cum inside you.”

You let out a small huff of your own, your head thrown back as you rode her.

“You act like I don’t want to be knocked up by you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie said through gritted teeth as she thrust into you harder. “You’re so sexy. Imagine how good you’d look carrying my baby.”

“Oh God, Jess,” you cried louder this time, your arousal dripping far beyond the strap by now and onto Jessie. “Give it to me. Give me your baby.”

Jessie let out a guttural moan and tilted you both forward, her cradling you until you were on your stomach on the bed, her still deep inside of you.

Before you could register anything further, Jessie pushed herself off of your back, planking over you, just the tip of her strap inside of you now. The next second her hips slammed down into you and she was soon thrusting into you repeatedly with an expert roll of her hips, sending unrelenting waves of pleasure through you with every stroke.

You cried as your orgasm swept over you. You clawed at the bed, your whole body writhing as your climax went through every fibre of you, from your toes to your fingertips, to your head. Jessie didn’t miss a beat and continued to pump into you, driving you further into the mattress.

Your vision was white as you rode the waves and Jessie prolonged your orgasm. As your moans and whimpers ceased, she slowed her strokes until she simply lay on top of you, buried inside.

“I love you so much,” Jessie panted, breath hot against your ear. She shifted her weight so she wasn’t fully on top of you, but made a point to not pull out.

“I love you, too,” you breathed, unable to open your eyes yet as you tried to catch your breath.

You both lay there in silence for several seconds before Jessie suddenly jerked upwards.

“Oh shit,” she said, her head swivelling left and right as she searched the bed. When her eyes landed on her discarded phone she carefully lifted herself out and off of you before she snatched it up. “Oh fuck,” she laughed, seeing it was still recording and she quickly tapped the button again to stop.

You managed to lift your head to peer over at her curiously. Your eyebrows lifted as the realization hit you.

“Oh my god. I forgot,” you told her, a dazed smile forming on your face.

“I did for a moment, too,” Jessie laughed. She glanced at you as she held the phone tentatively in her hand. “I’m afraid to play it.”

She hit play on a random part of the video anyway and the room immediately filled with moaning, heavy breathing and other lewd sounds. She immediately went beet red and turned it off as she looked at you. You stared at each other wordlessly for a second before both dissolving into laughter.

“Okay.” Jessie eventually said, face still radiating heat. “I’m going to have to be extra sure to never ever open this video unless I have earbuds in.”

You gave her a series of exaggerated nods. “And double check what your Bluetooth is connected to.” Jessie raised her eyebrows even higher.

“That said,” she went on. “You look fucking stunning.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #smut fic #lesbian breeding #woso smut

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luveline · 5 hours

Note

hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!

love u thank u for requesting<3

—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k

“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?”

You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold.

“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?”

Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!”

“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says.

Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out.

Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.”

You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”

“You do?”

“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder.

“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says.

“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”

You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?”

“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.”

“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.”

“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly.

Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?”

You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.”

He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin.

“You can’t kiss me,” you say.

“Why not?”

“We’re friends.”

“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.

“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, you’re reluctance clearly fading.

“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.”

You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod.

Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours.

It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs.

“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.”

“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face.

He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips.

This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air.

Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you.

You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.”

Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?”

“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?”

You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you.

James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.”

You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.”

“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters.

Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured.

“Between friends?” you ask.

“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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mouvs · 2 days

Note

My last uni final exam is in 2 days and I’m actually stressed the fuck out, so to take my mind off it I’m requesting this because the longer I keep starting at my lecture notes the more I’m getting the urge to cry soo here I am anyway can you do joost with female reader and she’s been a more distant towards him and when he asks if she’s ok she lies saying she’s fine but he knows her better than that so he comes over to find her studying knowing she hasn’t gotten sleep or properly eaten in days and she starts crying from the stress and just comforts her, maybe runs her a bath, gets her food, and then plays with her hair till she falls asleep. Don’t feel pressure to do it if you don’t want to and make sure to take care of your self!

Aawww thanks for the request sorry im a bit late to it hope your exam went well love🩷

Take care - joost klein

Its been a few days since joost has had a proper conversation with you as he looked at your latest text messages, he was quite busy himself so it took him a second to see how dry and short you were over texts. He got the sense something wasn’t right, making him feel a little anxious as he decided to stop by.

With a bouquet flowers in his hands he rang your doorbell, shuffling on his feet and playing with the string of his earbuds as he waited for you to open.

He heard a load groan on the other side of the door before it opened “oh joost hi” you sounded surprised “i didn’t know you were coming” you said as you looked at the flowers in his hand.

“I wanted to come check on you ya know see how you are” he said, presenting you the flowers “for you” he said with a big grin showing his theet as he gave you the biggest smile.

“Aw thank you love” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close “thats really sweet” you whisper in his ear.

As you let him in you went to put the flowers in a vase as joost looked around your appartement.

“Are you sure your doing okay?” He asks, looking around to see your place.. kind of neglected as clothes and other stuff spread around everywhere. You sigh sitting at the kitchen counter bend over your laptop again as you cover your face in your hands. “Ive been busy” you mumble.

“Whats up?” He nonchalantly says as he hovers over you. You lean your head on your arms as you sigh again. “Its to much stress these exams, i have to study so much and i feel like i cant do enough or im to dumb or ill have a black out, did you know i have to do a whole ass presentation?” You sounded more upset by the second as you raised your head to look at him in disbelief.

“Thirty fucking minutes joost what the fuck am i even going to do and i cant even take care of myself at the same time i haven’t eaten a meal in days i mean look at this place” you let out frustrated as you stare at your laptop again.

“Hey babe no” he shushes as his hands caressed your shoulders “your not dumb we’ve been over this you got this dont let the stress cloud your head like that, you gotta stay positive and ask for help when u need it alright i can help you out with… this..?” He said questionable as he pointed at all the words on your screen, making you let out a giggle as you pouted at him.

You sighed “no your right im not dumb its just to much joost” you mumble as you lean into his chest.

“Look since i know you pretty well, lets go over your exam for tomorrow and THEN take a break alright ill take good care of you” he said firmly kissing your cheek before he sat on the chair beside you sliding the laptop infront of him.

He squeezed his eyes and made a few faces as he looked at all of it. “Okay tell you what you explain this shit to me and if i understand it then you pass” he said flashing you his signature grin as he gave you the laptop back making you giggle while you rolled your eyes.

Lets just say it took a little while… joost couldn’t possibly focus on all those hard terms coming out of your mouth as he just mindlessly admired you and giggled when u scolded him to pay attention.

“Hmmm why don’t you take a nice bath while i try to make dinner for us” he said as he looked in all the cabinets of your kitchen.

“What if you blow up my house?” You said raising an eyebrow while turning to him. He gave you a mad face “no i will not blow up your house y/n” he chuckled “if you say so sweetie” you sang as you joined.

The evening ended with the two of you in the couch eating pasta joost made that was actually quite good. You gave him lots of compliments making the boy blush and smile at you like a little boy.

You laid in his lap as you watched your favourite show, his hand in your hair as you enjoyed the comfort and warmth of your boyfriend finally feeling relaxed. “Thank you” you whispered

“Anytime sweetheart” he said, kissing the top of your head.

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clusterbuck · 14 hours

Text

you and i (have storms we'll face)

7x10 coda

The first day is the hardest—

Until the minutes tick past midnight and through the slow slog of a grey morning, and Eddie wakes from an uneasy half-doze to an empty house, and that’s harder still.

Buck texts, somewhere in the long haze of the empty morning, to ask if he needs anything. If he can do anything. But there’s only one thing Eddie wants, and Buck can’t give it to him. So he doesn’t answer, and barely five minutes later his phone lights up again, Buck’s face buzzing somewhere in the nest of blankets he’s been pretending to sleep in.

Eddie lets the call go to voicemail, but fishes the phone out once it falls silent. If he doesn’t react at all, Buck will show up, and he doesn’t know if he could handle that right now.

No, he sends, and then, after a moment, Thank you.

Are you okay? Buck asks. A noise bubbles out of Eddie, low and hollow, and it takes a moment for him to realise it’s supposed to be a laugh.

Sorry, stupid question, Buck says, less than a minute later, and then: Let me know if you change your mind. About needing anything.

Eddie doesn’t reply, but he knows Buck doesn’t need him to.

The phone is warm in his hand, and for a moment Eddie considers calling Christopher. Of texting him, just to remind him he loves him.

But he doesn’t think he could survive watching Delivered turn into Read turn into nothing at all. So Eddie gives him space. For now.

—

He goes to work on the third day, because it beats sitting alone in his empty house. And, as it turns out, because he would have been expected to report for duty anyway. Gerrard isn’t much for compassion. But he puts his head down and he works, because it keeps his mind off everything else and keeps him from obsessing over Christopher’s every move.

—

On the fourth day, Eddie breaks and sends a text. I love you. Then he lets Buck pry the phone out of his hand and hide it in the breadbasket, and pretends to watch the basketball game Buck puts on.

When he retrieves his phone at the end of the night, Christopher hasn’t replied.

—

It gets—

It doesn’t get easier, but he gets used to it. Accustomed to the way the empty house echoes, to the way he feels his son’s absence like a constant gnawing at his ribs. Inured to the way his world shrinks, as all he does is go to work and go home. His world is the firehouse and his house, and the text chain with Christopher that he is learning, slowly, not to open just to stare at.

And Buck, who sits with him and doesn’t try to get him to talk about it. Doesn’t try to get him out of the house, or to try to look at the positives.

Buck, who sits with him and lets him ignore whatever is playing on TV. Who, after the first time, only takes his phone away when Eddie hands it over, sick of staring at the screen waiting for words that will not come.

Buck, who seems to know what Eddie needs when he can barely put it into words himself.

—

He gets used to it, and three weeks after Christopher left he texts his son I miss you and the sight of the read receipt only stings a little, pain he’s so familiar with that bearing it seems easier.

And then his phone buzzes, and the bubble on the screen says Christopher.

Eddie’s heart climbs into his throat, and he almost drops the phone trying to unlock it.

i miss you too, Christopher has typed, and as Eddie stares at the screen it buzzes again.

i still need time, Christopher says, and the typing indicator pops up one more time.

but i miss you.

#911 spoilers #911 7x10 #911fic #shush emma #emma writes #anyway i will be rehashing this so many times come hiatus but here is one take on it #brain empty no thoughts only eddie is alone

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etherealyoungk · 10 hours

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into the night | jeon wonwoo

SUMMARY: when you call wonwoo late at night telling him you're stranded, he drops everything to make his way to you (and bring you home safe)

PAIRING: biker!wonwoo x reader

THEMES: biker au, established relationship, terms of endearment, comfort fluff

WARNINGS: speed, fluff, kissing, a little suggestive (only at the end)

WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

A/N: just another very self-indulgent fic

the cool wind blows in your hair as you stand next to your car on the verge of tears. you really don't know how you ended up here - well you do actually. you were upset, overwhelmed from work and exhausted. you just wanted to run away for a bit, get away from life. but right now it seemed like life had caught up and was showing you the reality of your situation.

you pull out your phone from your sling bag and unlock it, your hands opening your contacts, your finger hovering over wonwoo's number. it was late, almost going to be midnight and here you were in the middle of nowhere because your car decided to break down. you wonder whether you should bother wonwoo tonight, having second thoughts, but your finger taps on his contact anyway, dialling his number. you don't think he is going to pick up after a few rings and you move your phone from your ear. that's when you hear the line pick up on the other end, wonwoo's voice floating in your ear.

"yn?", he asks, his voice tinged with a little sleepiness. "i-sorry did i wake you up?", you ask softly, looking down at your feet.

"no, i was up. are you okay?", he asks you, and that question gets you. you bite your lip in an attempt to not cry, feeling overwhelmed all over again.

"wonwoo", you say softly, feeling like an idiot for getting yourself in this situation.

"my love, what's wrong?", his voice comes through, concern laced in his voice and you can hear the sound of some shuffle on the other side.

"can you come get me?", you finally manage to choke out, your voice cracking, betraying your composure. "where are you?", he asks, his tone more alert now.

"i'm kind of stranded", you confess softly, and wonwoo catches onto the tremor in your voice, getting worried. "i don't know where i am, i was just driving and the car broke down", you try to explain softly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek.

"driving? why were you driving so late", he presses, to which you don't respond. you bite your lip in hesitation, unsure whether you want to tell wonwoo the truth or not.

you can hear him sigh softly on the other end before he speaks again. "send me your location and wait in the car, okay. i'm on the way", he says before hanging up.

after sending wonwoo your location, you settled into the quiet of the car, exhaustion weighing heavily upon your eyelids. despite your best efforts to stay awake, you unintentionally dozed off, unaware of the passing time and wonwoo's frantic attempts to reach you, the phone on silent.

in wonwoo's mind, each unanswered call heightens his worry, his imagination conjuring the worst-case scenarios, thinking something might have happened to you. it was unlike you to not respond to his calls. you'd usually reassure him with a quick call or text, but right now you were unreachable and panic ignited in his chest, propelling him to rush towards your location on his bike, each passing moment feeling like an eternity.

he finally reaches your location, finding your car on the side of the road with the blinkers flashing. with wonwoo's heart pounding with every step he takes, he approaches your car, his knuckles knocking against the window, startling you awake.

jumping up at the sudden noise, you blinked groggily, confusion clouding your senses. a figure stood outside, casting a silhouette against the darkness. fear momentarily gripped you until clarity dawned, and you recognised the familiar leather jacket that belonged to wonwoo.

with a shaky exhale, you reached for the door handle. as you stepped out into the cool night air you heard wonwoo say something like "thank god" under his breath as you stepped out.

"are you okay?", he asks, worried, his hair a touseled mess, falling over his forehead and eyes, blowing gently with the breeze. he looks you up and down, looking for any signs of injury.

"i'm okay, i just dozed off", you tell and relief seems to flood in his eyes. "you got me worried there, i called you but you weren't picking up", he says, looking at you, relieved to see you safe and sound.

a gush of wind passes, making you shiver. you cross your arms over your chest to offer some sort of warmth to your body. you stand there in front of wonwoo, avoiding wonwoo's gaze, dreading the question he might ask you about why you were driving out so late in the middle of nowhere. but the question never comes.

"let's go home", he says softly, reassuring in a way, holding out his hand for you to take, making you finally look up at him. you take his hand, walking along with him. he holds your hand gently but there's something comforting about his touch.

that's when you finally spot the bike - wonwoo's sports bike parked on the side of the road, making you turn your head to him.

"it's gonna get cold", he remarks, his voice gentle as he retrieves another jacket from his bike. he holds it out to you and waits patiently as you slip your arms into the sleeves, his touch tender as he settles the jacket over your shoulders. though it was slightly oversized, the garment seemed to embrace you in its warmth, a comforting shield against the biting night air. wonwoo's heart swelled with pride at the sight of you wearing his jacket.

"we're going home on this?", you question, apprehension evident in your voice as wonwoo zips up the jacket around you.

"why? are you scared?" he teases lightly. he knew all too well of your unease with riding on his bike, a fear you had yet to conquer since the beginning of your relationship. the whole thing seemed so intimidating to you, but wonwoo never pushed you to overcome it, understanding you and respecting your space. but tonight, it seemed like you were finally going to face your fear.

"it was the fastest way to get to you", he adds softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear as your eyes dart around nervously, still grappling with the idea of riding on his bike.

"do you trust me?", he asks, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. you lift your eyes to meet his, and nod slowly. "then let's go home".

wonwoo sits on the bike, manoeuvring it into position. he extends his hand, helping you to get on the bike and take a seat. once you're settled in the seat, you can't help but notice its height and weight, a realisation sinking on what you were about to embark on.

wonwoo hands you the spare helmet he brought along with him, and you accept it, your fingers tracing the smooth surface nervously.

"okay, some ground rules," he began, his gaze turning serious as he turns back to look at you.

"hold onto me no matter what or else you're gonna fall off", he says, his gaze turning amused when he sees the flash of panic in your eyes.

"woah not like that, i mean, it's better to hold onto me you know", he adds, chuckling softly and you make a face, smacking him lightly.

"tap me once to tell me you're comfortable, tap twice if you want me to slow down and tap thrice if you want me to stop or you don't feel okay", he instructs carefully. you nod at his intrusions.

"okay?", he asks again and you nod again.

"words, i need words my love", he prompts and you finally speak, squeaking out a small yes, still scared about being on the bike and the corners of his mouth tug up in a small smile.

you watch as he puts on his big biker gloves before taking the helmet from your hands and placing it on your head, adjusting as needed. he puts on his helmet too and waits. you're confused and hold onto his jacket to brace yourself. he opens the visor on his helmet before speaking.

"love, you gotta hold onto me", he says, startling you for a second. "i-i-am", you stutter out in surprise.

"that's not going to work", he says and wordlessly reaches out his hands to yours, guiding them around his waist and you hold onto him now. "that's much better", he remarks, satisfied before telling you he was going to start, putting down his visor.

the bike starts and wonwoo pushes off, riding in the direction home. and fuck, you had underestimated the speed that you'd be going at. your grip around wonwoo tightens and he smiles to himself. wonwoo's grateful for the helmet because gosh, he was melting under your touch truly. he finds you cute, so so cute and all his.

he still remembers the day he first met you. it was at the convenience store where he found you feeding a few of the stray cats that he usually feeds. he'd just gone in to buy some food for them and when he came out walking around to the back, he saw you. you were crouched down as you handed the cats some food and watched them eat with a tender smile on your face. it's was only a few seconds later that you had finally noticed his presence, standing up in a rush.

seeing the strange man in front of you all of a sudden, you panicked, taking a step back until wonwoo spoke.

"you feed them too?", he inquired, tilting his head to the side with geunine curiosity. he remembers the way you nodded your head shyly and the way you took him in, your gaze lingering at his tattoed arm that was exposed, the sleeves rolled up a bit.

from that moment on, your paths seemed to cross more frequently. wonwoo found himself drawn to your presence, often finding excuses to linger around the convenience store in hopes of encountering you once more. you'd get so nervous and shy every time he'd come around on that big bike of his, wearing that leather jacket that made him look so cool and his hair that had grown into a mullet that was a little long and shaggy and fell over his forehead and eyes, making him look hot, paired with the tattoos that covered his one arm, he looked irresistible. and not to forget his towering height - oh he was hot.

it had been almost six months into dating and you'd still never ridden on his bike before, until now. wonwoo gestures his hand in a thumbs up, asking you if you are okay and you tap his chest once. he smiles, glad, but really, you were scared, hanging onto wonwoo for dear life. you feel his hand gently intertwine in yours to reassure you as he slows down at a signal. you sit up a little straighter now, allowing your grip around his waist to loosen just a little.

he starts up again, accelerating again. you clutch onto him a little tighter than last time, closing your eyes. the rush of speed and nerves overwhelming you. you tap him twice, indicating you want him to slow down a little and he does, slowing down at a manageable speed for you but still going at a steady pace. as the minutes pass, you find the courage to open your eyes, lifting your head to take in your surroundings. to your surprise, you realized that you were in familiar territory—the neighbourhood where wonwoo lived. with his home now just a mere ten minutes away, a sense of relief washed over you, tempered with a newfound sense of accomplishment for conquering your fears, if only for a moment.

the rest of the ride is smooth. once wonwoo reaches his home, he parks the bike, turns off the engine, mountings his legs on the ground. your arms are still around his waist, gripping him tighter than ever because the bike was now leaning towards the left since he'd put it on the stand. you were somehow convinced that you were going to fall off if you didn't hold onto wonwoo. he takes off his helmet and sets it down in front of him on the gas tank.

"you okay love?", he asks when you haven't let go of him yet. "yeah i'm okay", you manage out softly, your voice muffled through the helmet.

you reluctantly take your hands off wonwoo and move your hands up to take off your helmet. wonwoo gets down first, his height and long legs making it easier for him than for you. he takes both helmets, placing them on the small bench in his yard.

as you remained perched on the bike, a hesitation rushed through you, with the sudden reluctance to dismount the bike. gazing down at the ground beneath you, you tried to steady yourself, despite knowing there was no real risk of falling. with a nervous gulp, you raised your eyes to meet wonwoo's, finding him regarding you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

wonwoo shakes his head a little, letting out a soft exhale, letting his hair breathe finally. he runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, the strands falling in an adorable mess around his face. he continues to look at you, wondering why you haven't gotten off yet.

"need help?", he prompts. "how am i supposed to-", you trail off, feeling embarrassed. you manage to swing your one leg to the other side and now you're settled in a sideways position, holding onto the bike so you don't slide off entirely. wonwoo walks forward and wordlessly holds onto you, his hands finding your waist to steady you as you peer up at him.

"i'll pick you up, just wrap your legs around my waist," he says calmly, and you furrow your brows for a second before nodding in understanding. wonwoo lifts you up effortlessly and you instinctively encircle your legs around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck for support. his one arm supported you, securely wrapped around your waist as he held you up. the proximity made your heart rate rush and you lean more into him so you don't fall off.

he grabs the bike keys before heading to the door, unlocking the door with ease and walking inside with you, holding onto you securely. you admire wonwoo up close and gosh, he was so handsome and pretty.

wonwoo sets you down on the kitchen island countertop, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment as you look at him. as you meet his eyes, you can't help but notice how your height almost matches his towering height now. he gives you a small but comforting smile before his hands move off your waist. he unzips his jacket, taking it off, only to expose his tattoed arm as he slides the jacket off, making you gasp ever so softly at the sight. you'd seen wonwoo's tattoos plenty of times before, but they never failed to leave you in awe every time you saw them. despite wonwoo's intimidating appearance - for someone who looked cold, badass and was so buff, he was so soft, sweet and gentle. it was a contrast that never failed to captivate you, drawing you closer to the enigma that was wonwoo.

wonwoo's wearing a sleeveless compression shirt and as you look at him, it's slowly turning your brain to mush with the way it was hugging his body perfectly at all the right places, showing off his build and muscles. the way the fabric hugged and accentuated every sculpted muscle of his sent your thoughts spiralling in a whirlwind. you have to tear your eyes away, opting to look at your lap instead, feeling the rush of heat flood your cheeks. wonwoo smirks to himself when he catches you checking him out and stealing glances at him, a little boost to his ego.

he takes off the gloves, placing them on the counter and finally, his attention is back on you. he looks at you, stepping forward so that he was closer, standing between your legs as he lifts your chin up so that you can meet his gaze.

"what's going on?", he asks softly, his hand caressing your cheek as he looks at you sweetly. your eyes dart to the side before returning to his unwavering gaze.

"i-i don't know", you confess as you look at him. "i just needed some space i guess, everything got too much", you tell and his gaze softens as he looks at you.

"next time you want to escape, at least call me, i can take you", he murmurs, his words carrying a sense of reassurance and comfort. you gulp at the closeness and his words as he stares into your soul.

"yeah-okay", you mumbled softly, blinking at him, getting nervous again. the way wonwoo could render you a shy nervous mess in mere seconds was something that needed to be studied.

before you can dwell on your response more , wonwoo closes the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender and gentle kiss. a rush of warmth floods your body and in that moment, everything seems to stop. he pulls away and you hope he can't hear how loud and fast your heart is beating.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him forward as you bury your face in his chest, engulfing him in a hug. wonwoo's arms instantly wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him, letting you bask in his embrace, the comforting weight of his presence grounding you as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. at that moment, amidst the warmth of his embrace, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of quiet intimacy.

bonus: the intrusive thoughts really won here

you riding the bike with wonwoo again, the wind is refreshing as he glides on the roads. after that day, you'd gotten a little more confident and okay with riding on wonwoo's bike. but now, it was like second nature to you. your hands are around wonwoo's waist before you have a little mischievous thought and you smile to yourself. your hands slowly creep up to his chest, your fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as you slowly undo them. wonwoo has no idea what's happening until he glances dow n at the feeling of your hands on his chest, seeing what you are doing.

"what are you doing?", he asks, his voice filling your helmet and you suppress the urge to laugh.

"i'm showing the world how sexy my boyfriend is, though i should be gatekeeping you actually", you tease, undoing another button as wonwoo's shirt now hangs on for dear life. your hands creep up under his shirt and you hear the soft groan he lets out as your hands caress his abs and you grin, satisfied knowing the effect you were having on him.

"oh love, you are so in for it when we get home", he says making you chuckle as you hug him tighter.

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exhaslo · 22 hours

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Over-Time Ch6

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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"Slow and steady wins the race,"

You whispered repeatedly to yourself as you carried Miguel's coffee, snack and your smoothie. You knew well enough that if you rushed then something was going to spill. This was your first official week as Miguel's secretary without Lyla.

You had to be perfect!

It was nerve wracking. Especially with that small incident you had last week. Sure, Lyla reassured you that everything was fine, but it wasn't. You had started to dream about Miguel-your boss! You've heard of workplace crushes...

But Miguel was the CEO?

If your feelings were to ever come out, Miguel might see you as a gold digger. It frighten you. Miguel was kind, handsome and worked hard for his company. You would hate to see him give you a disgusted look if he found out you liked him.

"That's the new secretary. We might actually be able to get away with shit now that Lyla's gone."

"Shh, she might hear you."

"It's fine. She bumped into the CEO on day one and almost cried during the interview I heard. She's a pushover."

Biting your lower lip, you hurried into the elevator. You had just started and there were already rumors. You always were the easiest one to bully. Was this place really going to be any different than your last job?

Once you reached your floor, you couldn't stop thinking about the rumors. Everyone already thought of you as a crybaby and pushover. You knew they were going to intimidate you for favors now.

Taking deep breathes, you knocked before entering Miguel's office. You forced a smile as you placed his coffee and snack on his desk.

"Good morning, sir. You have your first meeting at 9am. Until then, you have received multiple proposals from new business partners who want to collaborate with Alchemax."

"Perfect score," Miguel smiled as he grabbed his coffee, "(Y/N), you don't have to be so tense. Relax."

"S-Sorry."

"Don't apologize. When we're alone, you can just be yourself." Miguel reassured you.

And just like that, all of your worries went away.

"Thank you. Um, I know I won't be of much help, but is there anything I can help you with?" You offered.

"Your company is more than enough,"

---------

Miguel had noticed the grim look on your face when you entered his office. He wanted to ask you what was wrong, but it might have been strange. He wasn't to that level with you yet. Miguel wanted to be more forward, but you still needed to adjust to the job.

Just having you by his side was enough for now.

The day went pretty well, Miguel had to make sure you knew that. Since it was your first day solo, Miguel wanted to keep reminding you of how well of a job you were doing.

"Hehe," You hid your smile behind your tablet.

Miguel was in awe. You were so cute. With all the bullshit in his life, Miguel had to wonder how someone like you just landed on his lap.

"Our last stop is just the labs, correct?" Miguel questioned. You pressed the elevator button, nodding,

"Yep. Just a usual check up on some of the projects. Some of our partners want an update by the end of the month so this would be a good start on reviews."

"Perfect."

Unable to resist, Miguel reached forward and patted your head. He loved the dazed look you gave him. Quickly moving his hand away as those dirty thoughts returned, Miguel cleared his throat. He had to behave himself.

Watching you enter the elevator first, Miguel had ever thought to press the emergency stop and fuck you then and there. How sweet would those moans of yours be? How good would your feel squeezing against his dick?

"Um, it was floor 18, first, right?" You asked, double checking.

"Hm?" Miguel followed you inside, glancing down at your tablet, "I forget how many floors are dedicated to labs. Yes, we can start there."

He HAD to stop thinking like this. Standing beside you, Miguel just inhaled deeply. There were many things he did as a CEO that he wasn't proud of. Treating you like a fuck doll was not going to be one of those things.

KABOOM

"Ah!"

Miguel flinched as the elevator shook. He quickly grabbed you as the two of you fell on the floor, the lights shutting off and the elevator freezing in place.

Holding your head against his chest, Miguel groaned as he slowly looked around. The power was off and it seemed like the two of you were stuck. Rubbing your back, Miguel resisted a groan as he got a good whiff of your perfume,

"(Y/N), are you alright?"

---------

Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you sobbed quietly. The explosion had spooked you to your core. The only thing that was comforting you was Miguel's embrace as he kept you safe. Honestly, you could stay like this forever.

"(Y/N), are you alright?" Miguel asked softly. You raised your head, sniffing softly,

"Y-Yea...What...What happened?"

"Not sure, let me make a quick call," Miguel said.

Right as you were about to leave his embrace, Miguel pulled you back in. You squeaked, glancing at him, but Miguel kept you firmly in place, his hand rubbing your back as you trembled.

"You're shaking," Miguel whispered as he was on the phone, "Yes, what happened?"

You could faintly hear the other person on the line. Apparently there was an explosion in one of the labs and it shut off the power.

"Tch, get it back on. I'm stuck in the elevator." Miguel hissed before hanging up, "Just relax for me, (Y/N), it's going to be okay."

"I-I know...I-I know....but...A-Are you sure it's okay....for me to be like this?" You stuttered against his chest.

You felt Miguel's chest rise as he scoffed.

"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." He said softly, "You're still so nervous around me..."

Miguel's tone was so gentle. His hand stroked your cheek, wiping away any tears you had. Did Miguel not know how he was making you feel? This just made you want him more.

"Sorry," You whispered, "It's...It's just weird...you know....You're the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world...I'm just a clumsy worker."

"You're more than just a clumsy worker," Miguel said with a chuckle, his grip tightening around your waist, "You don't give yourself enough credit, (Y/N)."

"Y-You know...it's embarrassing" You whispered, smiling softly, "To be complimented by someone as great as you. It makes me feel better,"

"I'm not that great," Miguel hummed lowly, focusing on your lips, "I'm still one of those greedy and scummy CEOs."

"Not to me,"

"Hn," Miguel tilted his head as he made eye contact with you, "You know, (Y/N). You're different than the other girls. I like that about you, but it also makes me want to make selfish demands."

"Like what?"

You weren't sure what came over you. The atmosphere this elevator was giving off was throwing your sense of judgement out the window. You and Miguel were so close to each other, enjoying each other's embrace.

Both of you unsure of when this elevator was going to turn back on. Honestly, you felt the tension. You only thought this moment happened in movies.

"If I say...you might hate me," Miguel sighed, his lips inches away from yours before pulling away, "I enjoy what we have."

"So do I," You rolled your lips inward as you thought, "I won't hate you, Miguel...I just...I just want to do the best I can...So make whatever selfish request you have."

"Hm, don't regret it then."

You gasped softly as Miguel swapped places and pinned you against the elevator wall. His body hovering over yours. You could feel your heart racing as his hands stroked your cheeks, drawing you closer to him.

The look in his eyes were lustful. As if he was already swallowing you whole before even doing anything. Your body was starting to grow hot from just the eye contact.

Right as you thought he was about to kiss you, the elevator turned on. Miguel cussed lowly, helping you up,

"Guess this is fate telling me to wait," He said with a hurt chuckle. You furrowed your brows and squeezed his hand,

"J-Just....let me know...when...." You whispered shyly.

You knew damn well what was going to happen. Miguel was going to kiss you and you were totally ready for it.

Feeling Miguel squeeze your hand back in response, you glanced towards your boss. He gave you a smile before letting go of your hand as the doors open to the floor you needed to be on.

"Until then, business as usual." Miguel hummed. You followed behind him, smiling softly,

"Mhm,"

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Next Chapter

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neil-gaiman · 4 hours

Note

Hiya Mr Gaiman!

It's probably unlikely that you'll see this, since ofc you're probably busy rn, but incase you do see this in your inbox but don't have time to answer due to other stuff, i just wanna let you know that i still appreciate you somehow having time to read this lil ask I've sent you! Again, thank you Mr Gaiman!

Anyway, so this would probably sound *kinda* weird in terms of the ask i'm writing to you, but do bear with me!

Ok, so uhh Mr Gaiman, if you were to have the ability to time travel to alternative dimensions/universes, would you go to an alternative universe where Monty Python member Graham Chapman never got throat cancer and was still alive and well and happy in his 80s and living his best life in said alternative universe? If so, why? If not, why?

Again, sorry if it sounds a bit out of league and sorta philosophical in terms of the question for you to answer, Mr Gaiman, but I've been thinking about this for quite a while now and it does make me both happy and emotional to think about if Graham Chapman was still alive today, and if he was still alive today, what kinda projects he would've been in, both in terms of writing and acting? Would Graham still be in contact with the other Pythons? Would Graham probably also have a Tumblr account? (ok that's a bit of a stretch but it's a bit funny to imagine imo).

I certainly think that, if Graham was still alive today, he would've been absolutely happy that same-sex marriage was finally made legal plus many other achievements for LGBTQ+ rights, and that he would've probably gotten legally married to his partner David Sherlock, with the other Pythons being the guests of honour for the wedding ceremony!

I also wonder that, if Graham's adopted son John Tomiczek (who unfortunately died from a heart attack in 1992) were to also live, would've Graham finally become a grandpa/great-grandpa?

Idk, it's just some thoughts that I've been thinking about. Thoughts about the many upon many possibilities of Graham doing lots of stuff today if he were still alive. Things he *would've* and *could've* have had the opportunity to do......that is.....if the universe didn't decide to be a dickhead one day and give Graham throat cancer for no absolute reason, and to make it hurt even more, have him pass away on the eve before the 20th Anniversary of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" airing on the 5th October, 1989.....

Again, I understand if you can't be able to answer rn due to other stuff, but I thought I'd ask you this rather hypothetical (rather philosophical of sorts) question cuz I have been thinking about it for quite a while now, and I wanted to hear your personal thoughts on this hypothetical AU situation!

Thanks Mr Neil Gaiman ❤️

It's a lovely idea. I never knew Graham (although I've met most of the other Pythons, and am friends with Terry Gilliam). I like thinking of worlds in which wonderful people didn't die.

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sickslimez · 2 days

Text

STILL IN LOVE! #3 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You anxiously put on your mascara, nervousness building in your chest when your date texted that he was less than five minutes away. It’s been forever since you’ve been on a date, the last one you ever went on was with Toji. You began to grow anxious, a million questions running through your head, self doubt and everything in between. The kids were with Shoko, thankfully she was free for the weekend or else you might’ve had to cancel entirely no thanks to Toji.

You screwed the mascara shut, tossing it back in your makeup bag as you took one last look in the mirror, hands running over your dress to make sure it was flattened out and tight fitting. “Okay.” You took in a deep breath in, trying to calm your nerves. Though all came flooding back once the doorbell rang. “Shit! Okay, okay, be calm,” you spoke to yourself, striding towards the front door, heels hitting the wood below you. You gulped, fingers fidgeting with the lock before you opened the door to finally reveal your date. “Hi!” You smiled.

“Hi…wow,” he looked over your figure, “you look…amazing.” He couldn’t stop staring at you, a small smirk on his face. “These are for you.” He handed you a bouquet of followers.

The smile on your face grew wider as you grabbed the flowers from his hand, sniffing them. “Thank you so much, Nanami.” You averted your gaze towards him. “You look really handsome as well.” It felt like you were back in middle school again, talking to your crush for the first time ever. He wore a black button down, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pair of classic black slacks. His outfit rightfully complimenting yours. “Please, come in.” You grabbed the empty vase that sat on your countertop, filling it with water and placing the flowers in. “These are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them, they were one of the very few left,” he chuckled. He bit the inside of his cheek when you looked over your shoulder and flashed him a smile. He cleared his throat as you walked over to him.

“Well, thank you again. Shall we get going?” You asked, staring up at him through thick lashes.

Your faces were only inches apart as he held the stare, your perfume filling his lungs each time he took a breath. It was quite intoxicating. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be late.”

It was already an hour into the date, you and Nanami were already making great conversation, finding out that you two had a lot in common. He was a hard working man, but always tried to find time for himself when it was necessary. He had his whole life put together, very obvious from the car you two drove to the restaurant in. He was such a gentleman, opening the car door for you, pull out the chair for you. It had you swooning. He had you swooning.

“How’s your pasta?” He asked, slightly leaning forward on the table.

You covered your mouth as you finished chewing. “It’s amazing!” Your eyes swelled up in joy. “Is this your first time here?” You asked.

“It is! I wanted to take you to somewhere new. I’ve driven by this place a few times and it looked pretty interesting. Glad my instincts are paying off,” he laughed, placing his fork down.

“Well, sir, you have excellent taste.” You smiled at him. “How is your food? It looks delicious.”

“It is! Would you like to try some?” He asked.

“Oh, no, no, please you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“I insist. Come on, I know you want to!” He picked up the crab cake he had ordered, breaking off a piece before placing it on a napkin and handing it to you. “Go on, tell me how good it is.” He watched intently as you ate, waiting for your reaction.

“Oh my gosh! It’s so buttery with a slight sweetness,” you let out a satisfied moan. “I’m jealous, Nanami.” He laughed at how serious your face turned once you finished.

He stared at your smile, finding himself mirroring it. You were very lighthearted and fun to be around, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. He was already starting to think about the second date. “Call me Kento.”

“So, how’s the new girlfriend doing?” Gojo asked as he sat on the couch next to Toji, a beer in his hand. Toji glanced at Gojo before averting his gaze back to the television in front of him.

“She’s fine,” he answered, no emotion in his voice. He took a swig of his beer, letting out a sigh. Gojo poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“Just fine?” Gojo questioned. “You haven’t told me one thing about her since you two got together.”

“Don’t need to,” Toji bluntly stated. Immediately, Gojo could tell something else was plaguing Toji’s mind. Even with a few beers in his system, Toji wasn’t opening up. He knew exactly what it was. Him and Toji have been good friends for years, it’d be shame if he couldn’t tell what was on his mind.

“Okay, so how’s y/n and the kids?” Gojo raised a brow, staring Toji down. There was silence where there was supposed to be answer. He swore he could see Toji’s jaw clench at the mention of your name. Something happened that Toji didn’t tell him about. “Let me guess, you and y/n had some sort of argument and now you’re being pissy about it cause she was one hundred percent right like always?” Gojo batted his eyelashes, giving a cheeky smile.

“Shut the hell up, Gojo,” Toji warned, putting the beer bottle to his lips and taking a big gulp.

“Ah, so I’m right.” There was smug smile on his face as leaned back into the couch. “What is it this time? Did she finally find someone else?” Toji sucked in a breath before exhaling, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Gojo let out an audible gasp, “she did, didn’t she? Holy shit.”

“I don’t know for sure, but we got into an argument about me not taking the kids this weekend, she asked if it was because of yoko and I told her it wasn’t her business and that she was jealous. Then, she told me she had plans, but wouldn’t say with who. So…yeah. You happy?” Toji turned his head towards the white haired man beside him.

Gojo let out a small giggle, before stopping himself. “I’m sorry, you called the mother of your children jealous of your new girlfriend because she asked why you couldn’t take your children? What an asshole you are.” Gojo slowly nodded his head, brows raised in amusement.

“I get it, Gojo. Shut the hell up.” Toji had a firm grip on the beer bottle in his hand, afraid that if he squeezed it any harder, it’d shatter.

“Don’t get me wrong, Yoko is cute and all, but y/n,” Gojo let out a whistle, “y/n is where it’s at. She’s dealt with your ass for eight years, birthed two kids, and is hot as hell..I’d take her over Yoko any day. I see why you couldn’t stay away from her.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Toji glared at Gojo, using what restraint he had not to punch his friends teeth in.

“Just saying.” Gojo shrugged.

Toji’s phone began to ring, quickly grabbing it to see that Shoko was calling. His brows furrowed before he got up from the couch and answered it. “Hello?”

“Yo, Toji, your kids wanted to say goodnight,” Shoko stuffed some ice cream in her mouth, ready to hand the phone off to Megumi, but Toji spoke before anything.

“My kids? You’re the one babysitting my kids? Where’s y/n? Is she there?” Toji leaned against the kitchen counter, brows still knitted together.

“Jeez, you’re full of questions. Yes, I’m watching your kids, and y/n is…on a very, very nice date. Anyway, here are your children,” said with a chipper tone.

Megumi grabbed the phone from Shoko, putting it up to his ear. “Hi, dad, I just wanted to say goodnight. Naya already fell asleep.”

“Hi, buddy, goodnight to you too. Tell your sister I said goodnight if she wakes up, okay?” Toji spoke, placing his beer on top of the counter. He was trying to avoid sounding upset, the information Shoko just told him had his blood boiling.

“I will. I love you, bye!” Megumi quickly hung up the phone before Toji could even respond, leaving his father standing in silence.

The cold night breeze blew past your exposed legs as you walked up to your front door with Nanami, his hand holding yours as he helped you up the steps, making sure you didn’t trip in your heels. “Thank you so much, Kento. I had a great time with you,” you said with a smile, avoiding his gaze.

“I had a great time with you too. Must I say, once again, you look really beautiful tonight. I know you must be tired of hearing me say it, but I can’t help myself.” You took notice of how his eyes scanning over your body, focusing on the tight dress that you wore.

“Trust me, I could listen to you compliment me all night.” It was sort of bold of you to say such a thing, but with the way this man was flirting with you since the moment he laid eyes on you, it was only fair.

“Oh yeah?” His broad body grew closer to you, closing in the small distance. “Maybe we can do that on the second date then?”

You found the courage to look him in his eyes, not daring to pull away, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “I was thinking the same thing,” you responded.

“Good, glad we’re on the same page. Same time next weekend, better be ready.” A smirk tugged at his plush lips.

“Don’t worry, I will. Goodnight, Kento.” You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on his cheek. His hand slipped from yours as you pulled away, unlocking your front door and walking inside.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He took one last good look at you, taking in your smile before shutting the door. Nanami stood on your porch for a while, hands in his pockets, biting down on his bottom lip. He turned to walk down the steps only to stop himself, looking back at your door. Without thinking, he knocked on it.

You opened the door. “Oh, did I forget something?”

“Forgive me.” He cupped your face, planting his lips on yours, a feverish kiss shared between your two. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, gently biting on it. “I couldn’t resist,” he pants.

You were taken by surprise, but still kissed him back. Deep down, you were hoping this would happen. All night the tension was so thick that you could cut with a knife. The way he’d look at you, undressing you with his eyes, only for you to be doing the same. His hands ran up under your dress, squeezing at your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss to speak, “I was waiting all night for you to do this.”

“Yeah, sweetheart? Better not disappoint you then.” His hands ran up your thighs and to your ass, pushing you against the front door. Your hands tangled in his blonde locks as he left wet kisses down your neck. “You looked so good all night I was finding it hard to contain myself,” he admitted. He pushed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge forming in his pants.

“Just fuck me already,” you moaned. The wetness pooling in your panties was obvious, your cunt throbbing.

“Where?” He quickly asked.

“Anywhere,” you breathily replied.

“Anywhere?” He questioned.

“Anywhere.” You nodded. All while Nanami was stripping you of your dress, you were blissfully unaware of your phone vibrating in your purse for the third time in under two minutes.

“She’s not answering the fucking phone.” Toji tossed his phone on the counter, Gojo standing there with his arms crossed in amusement.

“She’s probably getting the best fuck of her life. Leave her be, she deserves it.” Gojo pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“If you say one more thing, I’m gonna kill you,” Toji threatened. Gojo loved to piss Toji off, especially when he rightfully deserved it. And in this case, he did. “I’m gonna go over there.”

“Don’t go over there! You annoy her enough!” Gojo easily snatched the keys from Toji’s hands. “Wait until tomorrow, okay? Let the woman enjoy her night, she doesn’t need you ruining it.” He stuffed the keys in his pocket.

“Fuck off.” Toji grabbed his beer, chugging it like it was water. He had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t deny these feeling brewing in his chest. The thought of someone else seeing you like he has, learning your body the way he has, treating you the way you deserved to be treated, and treating his kids with respect, he fucking hated it. He sounded like such an asshole, but deep down a part of you was always his.

“I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be too happy to hear you still care so much about your ex wife getting fucked.” He stared at Toji through his glasses.

“Yeah, well, surprise, she’s not really a girlfriend. I was just seeing her,” he explained.

“Like fuck buddies?” Gojo questioned. Toji answered with a nod. “Interesting that you choose your fuck buddy over your ex wife. Now look at you, lonely and jealous.” Gojo walked off back into the living room.

“You’re insufferable,” Toji muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He’ll let you enjoy your night, but he was definitely going to have a talk with you tomorrow morning whether you liked it or not.

series masterlistf

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon

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thelastofhyde · 2 days

Text

a mercenary named time.

pairing. jackson!joel x fem!reader

synopsis. as joel begins to age, memories of sarah are beginning to fade. though he wants nothing more than to talk to you about his troubles, there's something standing in his way: he never told you about sarah.

warnings. this is more joel x sarah centric than joel x reader oops, hurt/comfort, ageing + difficulties that come with it, grief, mentions of death/religion/afterlife+ generally other sensitive topics, fluff, does this count as whump? (v minimum editing/proofreading)

word count. 4.9k

hyde’s input. wrote this as an attempt to distract myself from the fact i was on a plane (i hate flying). not much happens plot wise, and it just becomes me analyzing joel (in my own way) halfway through but hey, i wrote it and, though it's nowhere near perfect, i'm gonna post it!

due to the ties tlou has with zionism, here are helpful posts/links regarding the ongoing genocide in palestine. from the river to the sea. ( post, link, post )

Aging has become a threat again.

A part of him wonders if the threat ever truly left, or if it simply migrated south of his brain, chasing a warmth only leisure possesses, to make way for a survivalist winter’s cold. With the safety of walls and the sanctity of the commune, at last he’s caught on to the passing of time, the slow-crawling spider who spun its web into his skin.

During the cold, there'd only been movement. Pacing down streets divided by those who live in fear and those who brandish riot gear, and tip-toeing past fungal-faced mutations, and stumbling in a daze of pain through snow to find her. A safety distance of unmarked miles, away from that hospital, is what it took for him to finally pull over, cut the engine and exhale. Out with the panic, and the urgency, and the fear. Ellie was there, laid across the back seats, a paper gown as blue as any April sky, a cursed relic upon her sleeping form, terrorising him with images of what could’ve been, had he failed to save her too.

In the warmth, there’s tranquillity. Stretched out legs upon worn out sofas, quiet hums of forgotten tunes on rescued guitars, tangled limbs on love-stained sheets. A home, a daughter, and a you, whatever you may be. A fallen angel, a summer fairy, a ray of sun. Any form you come from, he accepts it, welcomes it. Thanks it for bringing you to him, smelling fresh as a daisy, riding up next to him on his first patrol, smiling as sweet as the honey he’d eaten with his breakfast when you asked him if he needed help reigning in his horse.

No, he’d grunted more than spoken to you. And wound up flung off its back, ten paces later. From the ground staring up, he’d watched your face appear above him. Bitten back laughter, a stretched out hand, and a question of if he wanted to swap rides, take your mare for the day.

She’s far friendlier, you’d assured him, after he let you think it was your strength that pulled him back to his feet. Takes to strangers a little easier than him, you’ll be safe.

And he’d believed it, against his own nature.

Tommy had been the one to notice, to nudge him hours later and nod his head in your direction. Real sweetheart, ain’t she? Joel’d said nothing. Shrugged his shoulders, dipped his head, sipped the whiskey out his cup. Tracked your movement across the room like a hunter stalks its prey. Or, maybe, it was more like a bee examining a flower, wondering if the pretty vibrance of your outsides carried a match to your insides, if the taste of your soft petals was a great enough sweetness to satisfy a craving he’d long foregone.

Four months of observing later, spring came and he stung.

Since then, you’ve been his, whatever that may mean anymore.

He’d already been yours.

And yet he finds himself unable to tell you of his recent trouble, the emerging signs of his age that the needle of time has begun to stitch into his seams.

The greys that curl upon his head grow more frequent. Blink, and they seem to double. His skin stretches differently than before, at times it feels he wears it more than owns it. There’s aches, and pains, and cracks from his joints, where before there’d been numbness and tiredness. A back that refuses to straighten like it used to, no matter how hard he stretches under the fleeting warm drops of his morning shower.

A guilty conscience whispers in a voice much like Tess’, a memory of her telling him ageing means he’s still here, even if she’s not. It’s harder to find the good in it, anymore, when he has so much to lose again.

It’s his memory that scares him most. Like a photo album, the images within seem to fade with time and, the more he grabs at them, the more they wear away.

It started with something small. Forgetting you’d told him you would be heading over to visit Maria and the baby after your patrol shift, leading his heart to near beat out his chest as he raced down to the stables like some crazed man, rambling about how something’s happened to you, you’re not back, only for some kid- Jessie, a friend of Ellie’s- to tell him you came back hours ago. He’d pulled you a little tighter against him that night as you crawled into bed, the earlier unnecessary fear a little too visceral in his racing heart.

Then, it happened more often.

Ellie asked him to help her clean out the garage space for her, he forgot and agreed to cover someone’s turn cleaning the stables.

You told him of your love of mint tea, and instead he found you green.

Tommy asked him across the dinner table- a double date, a cause to debut Ellie’s first solo babysitting duties- if he remembered the name of that old bar they’d liked, and his mind was blank. Empty.

All of it, inconvenient. Yet he could brush it off, let it affect him only like a bruise: momentarily, till it faded.

Until recently.

Until the memories of her began to fade.

He’d woken up one morning, earlier than you like always. Kissed your sleeping face, creeped down the creaking staircase, switched on the stove to boil some coffee. And realised he could no longer remember what she’d liked better: pancakes or waffles.

A few weeks later, he tried recalling what shade of blue her soccer team’s kit was. Was it light blue? Or a darker blue, like fresh denim? Was it even blue at all?

Ellie asked him, the caution she used to bring towards mentioning her name long gone with the changing of seasons, if she’d liked any comic books. The sound of a runner, itching and twitching behind some fence interrupted before she could notice he didn’t have an answer.

Sure, she read. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d caught her curled up in bed, the light of her torch illuminating more than just the pages of a book, but her face, too expressive for her own good at times, reacting to each twist and turn of the story. Sometimes, he’d stand in that doorway, unnoticed, till her eyes dropped shut and the light rolled out her hand. Other times, he’d clear his throat, catch her off guard, and tell her get to bed, kiddo, or I’ll tell Mrs. Atkinson you’ll be round after school tomorrow.

What use is it, however, remembering all that, if he can’t remember if she liked comics?

He should talk to someone about it, he knows. He’d tried to, at first. Had tried to drink the courage into him, sat across Tommy one late night, sat around a fire as they settled in for a night in the ski lodge, stranded by some heavy snowfall. He failed then, just like he failed when he tried to tell Ellie, till she raced off to throw snowballs at some kids and he remembered she was too young to listen to his burden, too beaten by life already to deserve stress within the respite of Jackson’s sanctuary. When he failed a fourth time to speak to Tommy, the real issue dawned on him.

He wants to talk to you. You’re the one he talks to, the one he goes to bear his wounds to, trusting no other’s love but your own to patch him up and calm him down. There’s only one issue, however.

He’s not told you about Sarah.

It was never a conscious decision, some secret he’d chosen to hide. Speaking about her simply hurt and, after the arduous months of crossing the country with Ellie, finding a place to call home in Jackson, and learning to hold somebody close again, he’d wanted to get away from pain, for a little while.

Then came the first anniversary of her death spent inside the commune. He’d drank himself blind, like every year before. There’s a hazy memory of that night he’s glad to suppress, one where he’s covered in his own vomit and you’re struggling to hold his weight up under a pouring shower, the sounds of his sobs muffled into your soaked sweater. He’d awakened, and awaited the questioning. Expected to open his eyes and find you stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Seeing the room empty was a shock, but drifting slowly down the stairs and finding you scrubbing the stains out of his shirts near floored him.

The very same shirt you wear now, curled up on the sofa. Your eyes are shut, legs are bare, and there’s a gentle breeze that blows at the curtains you’d hung up, your first act upon moving in with him.

With a careful step, he avoids the creaking floorboard as he crosses the threshold. Slow as he can, he lowers the bag off his shoulder and props it gently against the wall, careful it doesn’t slip and let its contents spill out. Then he works at his laces, undoes them one by one, loosens them so his feet meet no resistance as he steps out of them. The summer’s heat affords him the liberation from heavy coats, less layers to shed now he’s returned to you at last.

You lay right, he strays left. Towards the kitchen, footsteps light as he can manage. Two chairs are pulled out at the table, two bowls sit drying neatly by the sink. Ellie must’ve stopped by for dinner. He’s glad to know she’s eaten, glad to know you kept each other company, glad to know the light is off in the shed and her snoring fills the hollow space. And he’s glad to find some food for him. He takes a bite, lifts the plate, finds a note beneath. Your handwriting, what do Joel Miller and breakfast have in common? followed by an arrow, urging him to turn the page around. The answer’s there, weakening his ageing knees. I can’t start my day without them.

Back by the sofa, a book sits split open, spine broken and pages pressed into ageing wood. Its cover is faded, frayed, much like he feels himself becoming.

He recognises it as one he’d gifted you, seasons ago. If he tries hard enough, he can remember the snow collecting in his unruly hair as he waited at your doorstep, and the way your smile melted the chill away, and the mumbling fool he’d made of himself upon handing the present over to you, some version of said you were bored, so I found this for you all he managed before turning on his heel and striding back to his own home, ignoring the teasing smile upon Ellie’s face.

After all this time, you still have it. Still read it. The fact slows his heart, soothes his aching back. Suddenly, he’s more than ready to head back out there, beyond the walls of Jackson, if it means collecting more books for you to remember him by when he’s long gone and withered away, no more than a familiar smell stained into your sheets and a fading warmth in the palm of your hand.

Two loud pops sound out of his knees as he crouches down by your side, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses the closer he grows to your sleeping form. There’s a want, nestled deep inside his bones, to pull you into his arms and deliver you upstairs to a bed made for two, in search of a peace his soul has not found since he’d left for his shift in the early hours of the morning. It would be cruel, however, to wake you when you’re so beautiful.

Joel once thought he’d liked you best when you were smiling, till you’d fallen asleep on his porch one night, after hours of talking his ears off. Since then he’s liked you best sleeping, resting. Comfortable enough to trust his watchful eye to keep any harm away while your body takes back its much needed rest, even on days like this when he’s not physically there. You’ve got his shirt, his scent embedded into every thread of it, and that’s enough to keep you safe.

The rough of his fingertips reach out to graze the soft of your cheeks, gently dancing up to comb a few strands of damp hair away from your face. It seems you’ve gained your own spider, the faintest of lines beginning to take shape upon your skin. You wear it better than him, Joel thinks, the passing of time upon your body a picture of love, and prosperity, and hope for more time to come. He wears it like a burden, however. A death sentence, a timer on how long till the cold hand of Death takes the place of your warm one clasped in his.

Adjusting to a life he fears to leave has not been easy. There’d been a time where the promise of death was a comfort. To wake each day, reckless with his time and mindless to his body, a thought of all the pain, and all the sorrow, and that overwhelming, heavy, overbearing loneliness that hung over him like a storm cloud at last coming to an end and ceasing to exist, it had kept him going. Though faith died alongside her, a dream of reuniting with his babygirl on the other side was one he clung to on nights when no drop of alcohol and no unlabeled pill was enough to send him off to sleep. Death now, however, means parting from you, from Ellie, from Tommy. It no longer comforts so much as it disturbs him.

Would you comfort yourself, in the wake of his death, with dreams of reuniting someday, down the line, when Death takes you by the hand and guides you back to Joel?

He can only hope his babygirl can forgive the way he now longs to keep living, in spite of her waiting patiently for him in whatever comes after this life. Perhaps his failing memory is a consequence of this, a punishment she sends for making her wait even longer to feel his embrace again, slowly stealing away the only parts of her Joel has anymore.

Even in guilt, he can’t bring himself to believe his Sarah would do such a thing. Her heart was never touched by the bitterness that had hardened his own, her soul pure a freshly fallen snow.

I want you to be loved, dad. Echoes of her voice in his mind, words she’d confessed to him with teary eyes, a half-eaten birthday cake sitting between them, two candles, one in the shape of three, the other a zero, tossed messily on the table. There’d been no real fuss for his thirtieth, at his own insistence. Just his parents, his brother, his daughter. Those he loved, gathered around one table, eating away at food he’d made.

I’m already loved, kiddo. I got you, don’t I?

Joel knew what it meant to feel unloved. For a long time, that’s all he felt. The love only a child could gift died just as quickly in his arms as she had, under the watchful teary eyes of his brother. Grief he dragged around with him, dedicated to both her and the love he no longer felt.

First came denial. A steady 48 hours post-mortem, in which he walked ahead of Tommy and convinced himself she was there, a few feet behind him, talking her uncle’s ears off as he made sure to clear any oncoming threats The denial culminated in him bleeding down the side of his face, a missed bullet somewhere left behind, and Tommy’s pleading voice trying to move him forward, dragging him to tents set up by the army.

Eleven stitches, each one imbedding loss and cowardice into his screaming skin. The anger settled in a few days later. It made a home within Joel, latched onto his heart and began to beat in place of it. It changed him, aged with him, convinced him it was the only partner he’d ever need. A hopeful glimmer of bargaining came in the shape of Tess. But anger and all its roots were too deeply burrowed within Joel, unwilling to be weeded out, no matter how firm the hand.

Complacency was far easier than any fight. Tommy left, the buzz of a firefly seducing him with the idea of better, of more, of a cure. Joel convinced himself things were easier without Tommy and his morals around. The routine of waking, struggling, drinking, passing out was one he practised well and thoroughly. Till Marlene and her suicide mission.

Then, the strangest thing happened. Ellie, with all her snark, and her crass words, and her humourless puns, reminded Joel how it felt to be loved. Laid upon his chest, a need for warmth and a plea for him to survive, she became the closest thing that felt like Sarah in twenty years. How could Marlene expect him to walk away, to leave her in that hospital?

Pain rushes in like a wave meets the shore, dampening him in a melancholy he saves for whiskey. Still resting peacefully on the sofa, your chest rises slow, steady, and constant. He tries to mimic it, matching his own breathing to it. It reminds him of dancing with you in the kitchen, barefoot and bare chested, arms entangled and forehead pressed to forehead, doing his best to stay in sync with your gentle sways.

The floorboards creek the further his aching body sinks to the floor. Like a man meets the altar, he’s on his knees. Blunt fingernails dig into the worn out brown leather of the couch, the only grip he has on reality.

A discombobulated memory dances across his mind. One of a much younger him, with a head full of brown locks and a sleeping daughter upon his couch. Outbreak night. He’d been peacefully unaware of the happenings outdoors, happy to turn another year older next to his Sarah, when a call came through. His brother, dumped in some jail-cell and begging for release. He’d not thought it through much, sighing in frustration yet rising slowly to his feet nonetheless. If he’d known how that night would end, he’d have held his daughter a little tighter as he carried her to bed, he’d have left every kiss he could afford against her forehead, and speak every I love you he had left in him.

Grief is a river that travels the mountain of his mind. Strong, cold, descending upon a downward slope. Its currents are unforgiving, grabbing a hold of anything that blocks the path. Too easy is it for him to slip and fall into the rapids, losing hold of his footing on reality before he realises he’s struggling to breath and there’s a whole new river carving a way for itself out his eyes and down his cheeks.

His eyes close. His breath halts. He tries to remember those breathing exercises, the same ones he uses any time the pain swells too much and the panic begins to attack his nervous system. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. Choke down a sob. Slow breath out. Joel. He pictures you, feet upon solid ground, hand stretched out as you try to goad him out the trepid waters of his grief. Joel. This image of you reminds him he’s got a name, got a life, got a purpose. To help Tommy on patrols. To make sure Ellie always has a place to call home. To keep you warm in the winter, and kissed during spring, and safe no matter where the sun may sit. Joel. The tears fall faster. Messier. He’s no longer a quiet companion at your side, but a mess of ragged breathing and nose sniffles.

“Joel?”

Skin to skin. Soft hand to wet cheek. You’re awake faster than he can process, too quick to wipe tears or feign smiles. Legs scramble off the couch, parted and bent at the knee on either side of him. Musk, and lilies, and every scent that makes him feel safe and close to you envelop the shared space between you.

“Joel, baby, what’s wrong?” Your thumb swipes uselessly at his cheeks, fresh waves rolling out his eyes before you finish wiping the last. Sleep is written all over you, woven into your breathy voice and weighing down the bags of your eyes. He feels a whole new wave of guilt, waking you from such a peaceful slumber with the sight of him and all his ailments bursting out the frayed seams that hold him together.

He thinks he says your name. It’s hard to tell. The blurred image of you through his teary eyes inspires a heavy burden of disappointing you that he can not cope with, and so he ducks his head between your legs, forehead pressing on the inside of your left thigh. His breath is short, his heart is sore, and he’s staining your delicate skin with his pain. You let him grieve upon you, pull him closer. A hand soothes up his back. Your voice tells him it’s okay, and you hum a sweet tune he’s sure he’s played you many a drunken nights, when the confidence kicks in and he’s serenading you with his country twang and guitar strings.

There’s no prying, no demand to rightfully know why you’ve awoken to your lover, steadfast and stoic at his worst, collapsing into your hold. You let him cry. He lets you hold him. You’re all he’s been missing, this feeling of support he’s denied himself for far too long. No fear of your judgement, but fear of pulling you in amongst the dangerous currents alongside him.

An anchor comes in the shape of your fingers carding through his unruly hair, a tether that pulls him back into the living room, into your home, into you. With the patience of any saint, you let him move at his own pace, head slowly rising from your thigh, back straightening to the best of its abilities. His hand, rough and hardened by time and grit and survival, paws at your thigh, clumsy in its attempts to dry his tears off of you, a fear of it sinking into your skin and some part of his sadness taking root inside your bloodstream.

Your hand stills his, gently, coercing his fingers to thread with your own as your other hand cups his face and guides him to look at you. You're beautiful, in a way that makes Joel wish he was better with words so he could spend the rest of his days finding new ways to tell you so. Instead, he has to settle with a simple, “my pretty girl.” You smile, bashful, as if that’s enough, as if you don’t deserve more.

“Hello to you too, handsome.” You peck his cheek, he chases after you with his mouth. Two small pecks, a third he fails to achieve as you hold him back. “Don’t think you can distract me with those perfect lips of yours, Miller. I’m worried about you, and no amount of kisses are gonna change that.”

He refocuses on his breathing exercises. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. No sob this time. Slow breath out. Your gaze, soft as a cloud, rests over him gently, your own chest rising and falling in sync with him. With every night he’d lay awake, trying to think of how to bring up Sarah and the details of her he’s failing to hold onto, never did he imagine the weight to fly off his chest so easily with just a supportive smile from you.

“I had someone before, who I loved.” He pauses. Clears his throat, shifts his weight. His knees are beginning to ache the longer they sit digging into the hard floor. He should have listened to your advice of scavenging a rug. “Not how I love you. Like I love Ellie.”

Silence.

Not the kind where you hear a pin drop, but one that allows the laughter of children playing down the street to blow in with the breeze, and the creaking of the old house you’ve both made a home, and the squeaks and chirps of wild-life continuing on outside, unaffected by the end of civilisation.

Then, “I know.” Joel’s eyes widen, disbelief painted across them. “Tommy’s let it slip a few times. Just when we’re on patrol and he sees something that reminds him of her. Or he’s telling me a story that’s sole purpose is to embarrass you.” A part of him wants to feel angry at his younger brother, stealing his right to reveal such a large part of who he is. The other part of him feels for him too, a reminder that Sarah’s loss is not one he tackled all by himself. She was his daughter, but she was also Tommy’s niece. How could he blame him for feeling comfortable enough to share his grief with you? “Ellie also mentioned it, once. Back before you and I were really…” You fall silent, trail off, as you both usually do when faced with tackling the task of labelling what exists between you.

“Why,” he chooses to distract himself from it, scared of a world where he asks for the right to claim himself as your husband. Those things don’t matter anymore, with the world gone to shit, but a man could still dream. “Didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s your story to tell, I didn’t want to force it out you. I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

He may not know how to label what you are to him, but he knows he loves you. God, does he love you.

“Thank you, darlin’, I really-” He’s getting choked up, caught between his grief for Sarah and his love for you. You seem to understand, as you always do, hands slowly pulling and coercing him up onto the sofa, occupying the space next to you. “Can’t thank you enough.”

“You’ve nothing to thank me for.” You promise, sealing it into his skin with a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t like to see you cry, Joel, but I prefer you do it in front of me. Don’t hide parts of yourself. I want all of you. Good, bad, and everything in between.”

There’s the urge to let himself fall into the river again, now that you’ve pulled him ashore and attached yourself to him like a life vest, an oath to never let him drown. He feels his eyes well-up, but doesn’t let them fall, as his mouth runs ahead of his mind and at last confesses the troubles he’s been keeping close to his chest.

“It used to be like this every day. Tears, unless I numbed myself free of consciousness. Then, things got better. With Ellie and you around. Anytime I felt the anger or the pain swelling, you’d be there and there’d be room for laughter. But I’m getting older, darlin’. Memories’ not the same. There’s things about my babygirl, my Sarah, that I just… can’t remember. And it scares me. Scares me so bad that I don’t know how to cope with it. If I ever woke up and couldn’t remember her face, it would kill me. I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

He speaks slowly. You cling to every word, a gentle nod lets him know you understand. A part of him wonders how deep that understanding runs, if you too had lost a child. He wants to afford you the same grace you’ve given in, and so he doesn’t pry. If you have a story to tell, he can only hope to still be around to listen.

Oblivious to the thoughts of you holding a faceless child swirling around in his head, you pull Joel into you, encouraging him to let you hold his frame. You’ve told him countless times he needs to let himself be cared for, a spark that ignited many arguments in the early days of your love. It feels nice to comply at last, head drifting down to rest on your steady shoulder. Your legs curl up onto the couch, lay gently over his own, as an arm wraps itself around his aching back.

Only like this does Joel feel he’s finally arrived home after weeks of wading through the depths of his own sorrows, evading a bounty placed upon him by time.

Joel is ageing. Everyday, a new line appears on his face. Every year, a new ache burrows in his bones. But, if each moment he can feel your love in acts of kindness, and left-over meals, and sleepy limbs upon a shared mattress, it doesn’t feel as daunting. He wonders what awaits him in the afterlife, when he and Sarah reunite as he so hopes. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that she’d be proud of him for finding solace in a heart like yours.

“Tell me about her.” You plead to him something he’s spent years longing to do.

Without missing a beat, words flow easily and memories play on in his head, his precious daughter no longer blurry in a haze, but fully in focus, smiling wide at him with a mouthful of food.

“She loved pancakes.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller oneshot #pedro pascal x reader

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totheblood · 1 day

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shiver | s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.

warnings: angst, avoidant!reader

a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!

wc: 3.1k

"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."

The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.

It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk.

He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting.

When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated.

It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away.

Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily.

He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears.

His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why.

Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you.

And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you.

Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of.

6 months ago - November

“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you.

“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”

“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke.

“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”

“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk.

“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her.

“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”

“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,”

“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”

“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest.

Present Day

Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work.

The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.”

As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms.

“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.

“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”

It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low.

“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.

“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”

“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.

“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine.

“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”

“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,”

“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”

“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”

“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things.

“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror.

“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”

Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”

The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off.

“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road.

“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”

“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”

“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”

“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest.

“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”

You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked.

Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back.

You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input.

Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls.

Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first.

You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could.

As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly.

Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close.

And everything went black.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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01zfan · 23 hours

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vice | p. wb

stylist!wonbin x actress!reader | 5.7k words

why was this so fun to write LMFAOOO maybe i’m insane for real you guys. this was a request kinda but i went off on my own. needy lil freak wonbin we love you.

contains: metaphors and allusion to drugs, power imbalance (wonbin works for the reader)

at first to wonbin you were like dessert. a sweet treat for the end of the night to take the edge off of his long days.

he first met you after a long bout of unemployment, something that was common in his line of work. stylists were in an abundance these days, and each time wonbin thought he had a gig it fell through. because of his desperation for work, he ended up agreeing to take a job offered to him by his friend. the pay was shit, the photoshoot was in a studio that would take an hour to get to on public transportation, and wonbin was taking a professional step backwards by joining the team as an assistant stylist. he knew he couldn’t afford to say no so he agreed, not even bothering to ask who the subject of the photoshoot was.

when wonbin arrived the next day, he was greeted by the friend that got him the job. like always, wonbin got the rundown of the day and heard that several things had already gone terribly wrong. he nodded and followed closely behind shotaro, trying to understand what the concept of the photoshoot was and what brands they were allotted to use.

wonbin saw you for the first time when shotaro guided him behind the wall where he saw flashing lights and heard camera shutters. he barely got a glance at you, his view obstructed by a photographers and the makeup team that swarmed you between each camera click. wonbin was amazed at the amount of people, nothing like the low-brow photoshoot he was expecting. when he finally weaved through the crowd of people he caught up to shotaro and asked him who you were.

shotaro was taken aback by his question. wonbin saw his friend stop going through the clothing rack to turn towards him with his eyes wide. wonbin was informed through a tight-lipped whisper that you were an up and coming actress, one of the biggest new names on the scene. shotaro told wonbin that he was lucky to land such a good gig and if he was able to get a permanent role on the team he would be more than well off. wonbin looked back to you as he got a fast explanation and rundown of all the things you were featured in. he could see your side profile, how your hair blew in the artificial wind of the fans.

“you know i don’t watch movies.” wonbin said, still looking towards you.

“i suggest you at the very least watch hers.” shotaro looked back to the clothing rack, pulling the next outfit off its hangers to have it ready. “she’s pretty talented.” shotaro says.

wonbin found himself more interested you the longer he looked. you knew your angles, working them well for the camera as the raw photos appeared on the prompter. wonbin watched each one come out flawless, how you took the photographers pointers and acted on them immediately. he had seen too many actors in his time know nothing about posing for a camera, treating every photoshoot like it was a movie. but you did it well, maybe a little too well.

wonbin was only pulled away from you when he heard the director of photography call for the next outfit. wonbin turned to shotaro quickly, recalling all of his prior experience as the assistant stylist. shotaro carefully laid the clothes across wonbin’s outstretched arms and wonbin made his way over to you.

when you looked up at wonbin from the white block you posed on, he was taken aback. he could admit he wasn’t the best judge of character but something about you just seemed to pull him in. you tilted your head and thanked him for the clothes, motioning for him to lay them beside you. wonbin complied immediately, letting the clothes rest in the free space before bowing away back to shotaro.

the rest of the day was spent like that. wonbin running around like he was a newbie again, doing everything shotaro needed. the only relief he felt was when he would steal your attention for a moment and when he would be your only focus for a second. each time you thanked wonbin he could feel the heat across his cheeks. he didn’t know what it was, everyone else seemed to be fine around you. you had even built up a rapport with shotaro and the rest of the crew. but when it came to wonbin he was a mess, reduced to deep bows and nods of acknowledgment anytime he got your attention.

wonbin pat himself on the back when the work day was over. he came to the conclusion that being in your presence was inherently embarrassing, that he would never be able to overcome his reddening cheeks or hesitant movement when it came to you. wonbin was excited to go, but when shotaro asked him to come in the next day per your request, something in his mind shifted. he suddenly remembered your lingering looks, the way you grazed his hand and said a shy sorry afterwards. wonbin agreed faster than he should’ve, reasoning that he was just grateful to have a job for another day.

when wonbin first saw you outside of work he was experiencing another late night scouring job listings and watching youtube videos to play in the background. you came on his television due to autoplay, something only slightly related to what he was watching prior. regardless, you came on his screen bright eyed with a wide smile, and a bubbly lift to your voice as you introduced yourself to the camera.

wonbin tried to ignore you at first, to banish your voice to the backburner of his mind as he focused on more important things. you were meant to purely be white noise to occupy his overactive brain but he kept hearing you. the sentences wonbin typed into his job applications turned into whatever you were saying on his television. so he took a break, closing his laptop as he turned his attention to you. he watched a full thirty minute video of you breaking down scenes of a movie you were in. wonbin watched the whole thing intently with zero prior knowledge of the film. the way you spoke was sweet and expressive, the complete opposite of how you treated him.

he reasoned with himself that he pulled out his phone to figure out more about you. shotaro’s advice to watch a movie of yours played in his mind as he saw the prices to rent your most recent film. he spent twenty dollars he didn’t have to rent it, and he watched the whole thing curled up on his loveseat.

he was becoming obsessed and before he knew it, wonbin’s whole day started revolving around you. the next day wonbin came to work early with a new appreciation for you. he found himself desperately wanting to make a good second impression, to show you that he was really grateful for the opportunity to work under you. wonbin didn’t know why he wanted to show the good side of himself to you so badly, but he arrived to the studio long before your team came. he found himself lingering outside of the studio waiting for shotaro to park his car, but his friend was forgotten when your sleek black car pulled up to the curb.

wonbin watched you hop out of the car in an outfit to match. he watched you walk through the parking lot with your entourage huddled around you like fans. you were unbothered with your black shades that you only lifted when you made it past the entryway of the studio. you casted a glance to wonbin at the last second, and he continued to turn his head to follow you. he understood in that moment why you were up and coming, you had something that could only be described as it. wonbin realized the second day how refined you were, how much you advocated for yourself. you could wear anything, from the all black street style to the colorful designer brands they had you dressed in for the photoshoot.

when he got home after working for you he would scour the internet looking for things about you. in an effort to figure you out wonbin had seen your entire filmography within the month and he could recite almost all of your interviews. it had gotten to the point that you were getting in the way of the work he was trying to do and he was almost alarmed that he didn’t care in the slightest. he was lucky that he had been offered a position as your permanent assistant stylist after shotaro put in a good word for him.

as time went on, whatever wonbin had with you had gotten out of hand. he was able to convince himself that he was just learning about you, but he found that he needed more and more. niche interviews didn’t cut it anymore, he was searching the internet high and low for deep cuts of you. that’s when wonbin began to admit to himself he never had much of a sweet tooth. something as sugary as icecream sated his need after a bite or two. if he had to compare his relationship with you now he would compare you to the bottles of liquor or the powdery white substances that he always saw at the parties you steered clear from. you were something he got hooked on and by the time he realized it was too late.

he couldn’t blame you for being addicting, you were simply existing the same way all vices did. if anything it was wonbin’s fault. he wasn’t diligent enough, he didn’t administer you in small doses. drugs weren’t necessarily was bad if you did it in moderation. but your personality and proximity to wonbin made that impossible. he was all in, up to his neck in you and he was only sinking lower and lower.

you were just so much like him and you didn’t even know it. wonbin blamed it on the fact that he couldn’t wear the clothes he actually wanted to wear at work. he had to make sure that he was comfortable, that he could move the way he needed to when gathering clothes or running around on set. what wonbin really wanted to wear to work was the clothes he had in his closet that you also happened to own. he was able to convince himself that it was always completely by coincidence that the clothes you would wear would appear in his closet in his size. like there was someone else blowing his paychecks to have your exact wardrobe. but wonbin wore it well, and he believed that you would agree with him.

you were mysterious just like him, a little off-putting but alluring nonetheless. you were his carbon copy—if only he could get the words out to tell you that. wonbin was only able to confess to you in his moments of solitude, when your face would flash through his mind like a bolt of lightning. he got used to whispering your name over and over again at night, just to take the edge off. you were all consuming and you didn’t even know it, the same way all vices were. wonbin believed that if he didn’t have you it would only be something worse.

as wonbin stayed on your team as a stylist, you eventually took off. you booked important movies projected to be blockbuster hits, you were constantly booked for photoshoots and interviews. he was able to stave off his addiction to you by working for you. he was forced to be the most respectful version of himself to be in your good graces. he was lucky you had taken a liking to him to the point that he became your personal assistant. this meant wonbin got the privilege to follow you around all day like a lost puppy, doing your chores and walking your dog when it visited you on set. he fetched your food when you didn’t feel like getting up. wonbin had become your servant, and he didn’t want anything else.

being your servant meant he got to see the most intimate aspects of your life. he knew who was in your phone, what you wore and where you ate. he was able to see the things you shared in common and the things he suddenly felt himself taking a liking to.

the best perk was that he was able to sit in your trailer with you while you napped. after everyone else on the stylist and makeup team was shooed out of your trailer for lunch he had the unspoken permission to stay. truthfully it was because you needed someone to be there to wake you up in time. but you were nice enough to let wonbin take a nap on your tiny couch. you retreated to your bed in the back of the trailer while your manager reminded wonbin what time he needed to be back on set. wonbin nodded gently, settling deeper into the couch as his phone vibrated in his hand.

right as the door closed wonbin slid down his notifications bar to see what it was. a new interview of yours had just dropped, a picture of you in thumbnail smiling wide with your things spread out in front of you. wonbin looked into your area of the trailer over his shoulder. he saw your feet gliding across the mattress as you laid in bed. he wondered if you were on your phone watching videos like he was. whatever you were doing, he just hoped you were distracted enough.

wonbin knew better than to watch your videos while you were in the other room. he had picked up the nasty habit of losing himself when you appeared on the flat dimensions of his phone. it was like you were in the palm of his hands, the adrenaline of feeling you talk right to him made him lose all self control. he would’ve been able to talk himself out of doing something so bold especially when you were less than a yell away. but that’s what happens when people have addictions—they do stupid things because enough is never enough. that’s why even when wonbin was on the job where you were the topic of every sentence you weren’t talked about enough. in the moments when he would literally on his knees fixing your garment he wasn’t worshipping you enough. he needed his fix and he couldn’t wait another moment. so while wonbin chewed on the nail bed of his index finger he clicked on the video with his thumb.

the orientation lock was already off from the night before and automatically went to landscape mode. the intro music crackled through his speakers in the split second it took him to turn it all the way down. wonbin looked behind him quickly to see that your motions had ceased on top of the bed. he sunk further into the mattress and spread his legs trying to keep up appearances for the invisible audience in front of him. wonbin was solely just doing his job, looking closely at your eyes to make sure the makeup came out well on camera and that your hair was styled right. he cursed himself for letting his bluetooth earbuds die, he needed to hear your voice even though he had been hearing it all day. he was forced to settle for the subtitles and reading your lips. glossy and plush, drawing into a smile each time you sheepishly explained another item in your bag. wonbin felt the urge to look over his shoulder again but he didn’t want to miss a moment.

he abused the rewind ten seconds button while he pushed down on the tent that always formed in his pants like muscle memory. he brought his leg over the other when he saw you pull out the same sunscreen he owned.

wonbin was always in a negative feedback loop when it came to your videos. he would find a part he liked the most, a little moment of you looked at the camera with big eyes when you were asked a question or a small reaction where you would chew on your lip while in deep thought. no matter how short it was wonbin became obsessed, he would rewind it again and again. he saw you look up to the staff behind the camera for approval a million times, rewinding the video just to have it seared into his eyelids. he watched your delicate hands fiddle with each item as you pulled it out of your bag, how you took the time to sincerely explain each one.

he was too distracted by you that he didn’t know you were right behind him, watching him rewind the same part over and over again. as soon as he felt like something was behind him he heard your voice right next to his ear.

“you really are obsessed with me, huh?” you said.

wonbin instantly let his phone drop to the ground and yelled. it was the loudest he had ever been, the sound bounced off of the walls of your trailer and even made you jump. wonbin stood up from your tiny sofa quickly, rubbing his sweaty hands down his pants as he tried to think of an explaination.

“i was just making sure…” wonbin stammered.

all the excuses he had made up in his head for this exact moment were leaving him. he couldn’t think of anything when you cocked your head to the side with that knowing smirk.

“just making sure what?” you mocked.

wonbin felt red hot shame bloom over his entire body. his eyesight felt like it was blurry even though he wore his glasses and he felt short of breath. he was sure you saw the tips of his ears turn red and his hands instinctually clenching.

you only watched him, not saying anything else as wonbin pathetically tried to think about anything else other than the churning feeling in his stomach. being underneath your scrutinizing gaze only made everything worse. when wonbin tried adjusting his pants your eyes immediately flickered down to what he was so desperately trying to hide.

he didn’t have the time to decipher the look in your eye. he just knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible. wonbin got up from the couch and headed to the door, pulling down his sweater as low as it would go.

“wait.” you said calmly.

wonbin turned around to see that you held his phone in your hand. he could see your video still playing on his screen, your demeanor on the screen completely opposite of your expressionless face. you held out wonbin’s phone slightly, moving it back and forth for emphasis.

“don’t forget this.” you said casually.

when he reached for his phone you let it fall from your hand. wonbin watched his phone fall to the floor, making a dull thud when it made contact with your carpet. he looked up to you, trying to figure out what you wanted from him. the shame coursing through his veins turned to fire as he watched you settle into the same spot wonbin was in on your couch. his phone was right by your foot, a silent dare for him to come closer.

wonbin wasn’t sure if he was still reeling off of you causing his mind to make up things. was your hand that moved to rest on your knee beckoning to him? were your eyes staring at him with intent or disgust? he didn’t know what to do anymore. he felt himself getting weak, getting closer and closer to the ground until he was on his knees in front of you.

he couldn’t mistake the smile that spread across your face as your eyes followed him all the way to the floor. wonbin remembered seeing that exact smile in the first interview he ever watched of you. it was even more intoxicating in person, the different intent in your curled lips made the churning in his stomach worsen. you looked down quickly to his phone that was by your foot and back to his widened eyes.

“come here wonbin.” you moved your foot to lightly hit the edge of his phone where the video of you still played. “come get your phone.” you said.

your words were innocent and you had genuine curiosity across your face when wonbin stayed in place. you’re one hell of an actress wonbin thought to himself. you played the role of someone who was as non-assuming and confused. he tried to figure out what his role in all of this was, who you needed him to be in your movie. he remembered that he was your loyal servant who heeded your every request. so wonbin slowly started closing the space between his body and his phone, crawling on his hands and knees slowly.

when wonbin was close enough to reach his phone he was beside your leg. he kept an eye on you the whole time, now afraid to move an inch underneath your gaze. when you leaned back on the couch wonbin drew in a breath. you opened your mouth and his body straightened and his eyes widened.

“what do you want to do to me?” you ask.

when wonbin didn’t have the words you tilted your head to the side and batted your eyelashes. you looked so perfect from down here. pure and unsullied like snow. wonbin wanted to lean forward and take you in deep through his nose.

“i want to smell you.” wonbin sniffled.

when you spread your legs further wonbin couldn’t stop himself from shuffling forward on his knees, almost falling to his hands in desperation. before he could touch you, you put up a hand. wonbin stopped instantly, his shaky gaze going up to you.

“you have to be quiet.” you said, holding up a single finger to show that was your one rule.

when wonbin went back on his haunches to nod eagerly. you waited a beat before nodding to wonbin, hands creeping up your legs until they rested on your waist.

instantly wonbin closed the space between your legs and his body. he attached himself to one of them, kissing your jean clad knee before breathing you in deeply. he couldn’t stop himself from groaning, knowing exactly which perfume you had over your body.

“you smell like me.” wonbin murmurs.

“no.” you lift wonbin’s chin so he looks up at you. you see the blush across his cheeks when you shake your head. “you smell like me.”

you lean back on the sofa and wonbin lets his head drop, cheek resting on your knee. you can hear the whimpers bubble from his mouth, how they turn into whiny little groans when his crotch makes contact with your leg.

“i can’t tell if you wanna fuck me or be me.” you scoff.

wonbin knew he was told to be quiet but he couldn’t help himself. not when he could feel the patchwork of your jeans rub against the most sensitive part of him. he remembers scouring the internet high and low for your pants only to find out they were custom made, one of a kind. something that was previously so unattainable was in the palm of his sweaty shaking hand.

wonbin pressed his fingers deep into your leg as he shuffled forward to straddle your foot. he felt your skin dimple underneath his grip and you hissed before jolting your leg. the sudden movement made wonbin cry out pitifully, the pleasure of your leg moving against his crotch was so intense it was nearly painful. he moved his head to hang between your two knees as he stilled to catch his breath. he panted while pressing his forehead into the cushion of your sofa, trying his best to regain his composure. you only watched him and laughed, reaching down to manually loosen the white knuckle grip his fingers had on you.

“don’t leave a mark.” wonbin instantly loosened his fingers at your order. “i have a photoshoot tomorrow.” you said.

wonbin nodded because he knew. vogue italia. you were going to be on the cover, you and your costar were going on the spread. they were dressing you in missoni. the direction was were going for was young and fresh, marking a new generation of actresses and you were the leader. he knew and here he was, holding onto you so tight you could break.

“sorry.” your hand wedged between wonbin’s chin and the couch cushion to lift his gaze again. he looked into your dark eyes, having to swallow to try and mend his meek voice. “sorry.” he repeated.

wonbin didn’t move his hips against your leg again as a way to punish himself. he wanted to show you he had some semblance of control, that he was able to follow orders. he didn’t mind acting becoming your dog—by the way he was panting and whining he was already half way there.

“it’s okay.” you said after a beat.

he was positive you liked torturing him. the glint in your eye never went away, and your lips were stuck in a permanent smirk at his state. wonbin was sure you tsked at him just to see the dejection across his face, that you responded only after short silences to see his pupils shake. he was sure that you unbuttoned your shirt just to watch the color drain from his face and to see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nothing. you took the underside of your chest in your hands, pushing them upwards for wonbin to see.

you were making a show of it just to see him become even more pathetic. you started slowly raising and lowering your leg and pressed your shin into wonbin’s crotch. he looked down at your moving leg, resisting the urge to move his hips by biting his lip.

“keep going.” you said after planting your feet into the ground.

you leg went back to not moving, but wonbin didn’t mind. he made up for it three times back, dragging his crotch on the bottom of your foot and then against your shin.

it wasn’t long before wonbin was unraveling again, humping your leg like the dog you were turning him into. he didn’t remember what he was like before this, if he was always this desperate. he didn’t remember ever needing something as bad as he needed you. even though he would eventually get off he could tell that he would need more. you opened wonbin’s world simply by sitting in a chair, he knew that he would leave your trailer he’d be thinking about his next high.

the thought of you declining something like this happening again made wonbin want to savor it. he listened well this time, one of his hands clutched the armrest of the couch and the other gripped the cushion between your two knees. he looked away from your chest, afraid that too much of you would lead to an overdose. with his cheek pressed into your knee again wonbin started rutting his hips against your leg, trying to find any stimulation possible.

“look at me wonbin.”

he brought his chin to rest on your knee, eyes closed as the even tone in your voice made him feel even more pathetic. it was as exhilarating as it was embarrassing, wonbin switched from rutting is hips back to the slow circular motion he started out with. the pain in his pants made him shudder, his straining dick had at some point made it out of the fly of his boxers and pressed into the cold metal of his zipper. he needed to keep his eyes closed, atleast long enough to focus on only one sensation so he didn’t start crying.

“i said look at me, bin.” you ordered.

wonbin opened his eyes, he could tell they were watery by the stinging feeling of tears threatening to break past his waterline.

his face must’ve been pitiful, because he saw the smirk go away as you tilted your head affectionately. you even looked at wonbin like he was a helpless dog. your hands went to his face, and wonbin preened his head off your knee towards your hands to feel your touch faster.

“i bet you would’ve fucking killed anyone who got the job if it wasn’t you.” you cooed.

wonbin closed his eyes to remember the feeling of your fingers holding his face then opened them just as fast. he was nodding at your statement even though your question was fuzzy in his mind.

“that’s what you wanna hear?” wonbin nodded again, not sure what he was agreeing to—he just needed you to keep talking “you probably shouldn’t even be near me.” you say.

for the first time wonbin found himself disagreeing with you. he didn’t know where he was meant to be, he lived day to day and paycheck to paycheck as a freelancer in a highly competitive profession. but he had no doubt in his mind that he was where he was meant to be, desperately humping your leg in your hotel room biting his lip to stay quiet. he just wished he could’ve articulated this to you—or at the very least shook his head. but wonbin was so caught up in that familiar tightening in his stomach that he continued nodded as he started rubbing against your leg faster.

wonbin nestled into your soft hands. he could smell the shae butter and the minty smell of the medicated ointment your coated on your nail beds. he took in another shaky deep breath that he let out when you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

“i can’t deny that you’re cute though.” you said.

you pulled your hands away from wonbin and propped your elbows on your thighs. you looked down at him, how he was so close to tears. you could see his large eyes begging you for more, not even bothering to hide it. there was no way this was the same quiet, elusive, and mysterious wonbin shotaro talked about constantly.

wonbin watched you lean forward until chin rested in your hands. his breathy pants got louder and he dug so hard into the cushion he felt his nails starting to bend. as you leaned closer wonbin strained his neck to get closer to your face before letting it fall back to your knee. you were testing him by bringing your face so close. wonbin could see the blemishes in your skin and the eyebags that were beginning to set it from lack of sleep. wonbin wanted to reach out and caress the apples of your cheeks that glowed in front of him.

“you’re beautiful.” your voice is sweet, and wonbin’s eyes look like they are shimmering for you. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen actually.” you coo.

wonbin kissed your knee and you can see the drool seeping past his lips in between his heavy moans. you can tell he’s close, his desperate hips move even faster than before and you can see his knuckles turn white from the way he grips the cushion. you rack your mind for the final blow, trying to think of the thing wonbin needs to hear to get him to make a mess in his pants. he parts his swollen lips, a tiny exhale slipping past before he strings his declaration together.

“i’m close.” he whimpers.

“mhm.” you lean close to wonbin, adjusting yourself off the couch so you can whisper directly into his ear. “we’d make a pretty cute couple, don’t ya think?” you smirk.

almost instantly, a prolonged whine erupts from wonbin’s throat. it’s high-pitched and bounces off the walls of your trailer. you feel his hips still against your leg, and wonbin pulls away from you to press his face into your leg. he muffles out the rest of his whines in your denim, and you can feel the drool filtering through the thick fabric to wet your leg. you would tell wonbin that they’re custom made and he needs to be careful, but your sure he already knows that. you only pull away and lean back into the couch to watch the man get lost in pleasure. he gives your leg a few final thrusts, and then he slumps completely against you.

when wonbin pulls away from your leg to look back up at you, his eyes are still blown out and glassy. his chest rises and falls quickly, but he doesn’t move himself from against your leg. you start buttoning up your shirt and you can tell so clearly that wonbin wants to help you. when you let your hands rest at your sides wonbin gets the hint quickly. he stands up from his spot on the ground with shaking legs, and puts his fidgeting hands to your blouse. he focuses on the fabric as he buttons up your shirt, and you laugh at wonbin finally showing you a shred of shame. when you look up to him you purposefully bat your eyelashes and bring your hands to gently hold his bicep. he freezes against your hand and bites on his bottom lip quickly. when his unsteady hands successfully button your blouse he pulls his hands away quickly and stands in front of you. you can see the small dark splotch in the front of his pants. you motion towards the spot and wonbin looks too, awkwardly shifting on his feet when he notices.

“do you want me to send you home early?” you ask.

wonbin shakes his head no and adjusts his pants but pulling at the material gathered at his upper thigh.

“i’m okay.” wonbin says.

“you know.” you cross your legs and look wonbin up and down. you’re sure you could eat him whole and you’re positive he would let you. but you’re better at hiding your desperation behind smirks and shoulder shrugs. “maybe if you’re good we can do a little more next time.” you say nonchalantly.

wonbin adjusts his pants again when there’s a knock at your door. a moment later your shotaro comes in, takes a look at the both of you and checks the time on his phone.

“lunch is over, are you ready?” he says.

you get up quickly, shaking yourself off and casting one more look to wonbin before looking to shotaro.

“i’m ready.” you say, grinning ear to ear.

#requestz #01zfan: wonbin #wonbin smut #riize smut

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