#also The Boy is calling me Friday. less nervous than before but still nervous

[sailforvalinor]

In other news, my church sign has been hit by a car for the *checks notes* fourth time

[ccalhoun]

hi so i’m trans, ftm and not out :< maybe a steve harrington x reader where reader comes out to him and he’s super accepting and supportive

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steve harrington x trans!male!reader

req?: yep!

wc: 2.0k

warnings: male reader, trans/ftm reader, reader works at the family video, reader and robin are friends, reader has a crush on steve, reader lives with his parents, kind of ooc steve, reader explains what trans is to steve, steve has a crush on reader, dysphoria, talk of misgendering/deadnaming, talk of homo/transphobia, "birth name" in place of "deadname", "m/n" used, takes place after season 3 but before season 4, crying, kissing, hugging, coming out, establishing a relationship

note: aaa nonnie i am soo sorry i couldn't get this out sooner </33 also i hope you can come out when your environment is safe enough to do so !!

cut for length!

You stood at the desk at work, wearing the typical 'Family Video' work attire (aka just a green vest over your normal clothes). Keith was stocking shelves and never trusted you to do more than check overdue movies and check people out, so it's the only place you ever got assigned to.

You heard the store door open and looked up to see Steve walking in, heading for the back so he could punch in and start working. You were relieved, watching with glee as Kieth headed to the back as well to put his vest in his locker and punch out. It was about noon so it wasn't too busy, you got off at 4:00, a couple of hours before Steve got off (3 hours, to be exact).

"Hey!" Steve greeted, still pulling his vest over his arms as he said it. Keith sludged out of the back room, his feet dragging on the floor like a small child being forced to leave his best friend's house. "Bye Keith," Steve called out as Keith opened the door to leave the store. Steve turned back to you, his mouth curling upwards in a small smile.

"Thank God I don't have to work any shifts with him, huh [birth name]?" You cringed at the usage of your birth name, just hoping everyone would finally realize that you're a boy by themselves so you wouldn't have to come out and risk being hurt or kicked out. You idly nodded and smiled at Steve, you two were close but you could never even begin to imagine coming out to him.

"He's not that bad, just a misguided nerd," You spoke, your voice breaking the short silence that filled the air. Steve laughed after you spoke, his laughter soft but not faked.

"Keith? Misguided nerd? Did he even let you do anything but sit at the desk all day?" Steve said. laughs breaking up his speech. Everyone knew that Keith was an asshole but no one ever really spoke it, just accept it as the truth.

"Well, no, but he can be nice when you get to know him a little more," You defended. You were being playful, not really caring if Steve thought less of Keith than anyone. "I think we've been talking about Keith for too long. Subject change?" Steve looked surprised at the suggestion but nodded and smiled.

"Yeah sure, how has your wonderful Friday been?" He asked sarcastically, every Friday working at the Family Video was terrible.

"It hasn't been too bad today, but it will be terrible later tonight. I hope you and Robin have fun working it." You joked, Robin was a mutual friend between you and Steve. In fact, after she told Steve she's a lesbian, she came out to you next. You two were in a lot of classes together in high school and have stayed in contact since. You and Steve only had 1 class together and barely interacted at school but Robin brought you two together.

"About that," Steve started, his face shifting from his usual smile to a nervous look. "Robin called out of work sick, can you help me tonight?" He anxiously trailed off at the end, he was never the type to ask for help. You let out a sigh and thought it over in your head.

"Sure, but only if we hang once we get off," You agreed, Steve's face lit up and he engulfed you in a hug.

"It's only for a few hours until Marge gets in, I promise," Steve rushed out as he pulled back from the hug.

After a couple of hours had passed it was 4:15 pm, the time you were used to getting off. Some people came in and checked out movies throughout the day, primarily romcoms and horror movies. There were always the people who went in after school to beat the usual Friday night rush of people. You sighed dramatically and laid your head on the desk. Steve looked to where you were before going back to making sure the shelves were organized correctly.

"You know you don't have to help me tonight. You can go home right now and we can still hang out after work." Steve's voice was calm and soft. He understood the tiredness of a long day of work, going home and unwinding was a great feeling and he couldn't blame you if you wanted to change your mind about the extra hours.

"I'm just being dramatic," You laughed out, "It's sweet that you'd work a night alone just to let me nap a little," You added.

Steve blushed and stared forward at the cases full of VHS tapes. He had a major crush on you and Robin was the only person who knew. Robin had faked sick knowing you'd agree to work with Steve for the night.

Conveniently, Robin also knew that you had a crush on Steve. She didn't tell Steve that you liked him, but she did say that there was no way that him telling you that he likes you could end wrong. Robin reassured Steve that it would end fine and convinced him to go through with it tonight.

After a couple of hours had passed the rush had really started to come in, You and Steve were both at the front desk working on checking people out.

The faces of Marge and some other coworker you couldn't care about learning the name of emerged from the crowd, Marge telling you two that you would just need to work for a few more minutes while she and what's-her-face got clocked in. You let out a sigh of relief, briefly smiling at Steve before focusing on a customer and scanning the tapes they had chosen.

Once Marge and your coworker replaced your spots, you clocked out and put your vest in the locker, making small talk with Steve as you did. Steve closed his locker and waited by the door for you to catch up. You walked out together, your heart beating quickly in your chest as you thought over your plan for the night. While working you decided to come out to Steve as transgender, waiting for the perfect moment to do it.

You got into Steve's car, he was your ride to work since you didn't have a car so you didn't have to worry about leaving your car in the parking lot. The car ride to your house was quiet, but not tense. Some music from the radio played quietly as you thought over what to say, how you would you explain it to him, what you would do based on his response, stuff like that.

You arrived at your house and hoped out, unlocking the door to your house and waiting for Steve to follow. He locked his car and walked to your front door.

"Movies and snacks?" You offered, taking your shoes off at the door and closing it when Steve walked in.

"I'll grab the movies from the living room, you get the snacks," Steve said when he finished taking off his shoes, heading towards the living room. Most of your hangouts went like this. You two were used to the routine. You always picked out the snacks and Steve got the movies. Your family was big on movies, so every few weeks you were bound to have a new VHS to watch. It was nice, but it was also nice to be able to rewatch your favorite movies.

You had a tv in your room, you had saved up for it for years (since 16, at least) and your parents are always fine with you using the family tapes as long as you put them back in their spots. You walked to your room, seeing Steve putting the first movie that he chose.

"Hey! Right on time!" Steve chuckled and sat down on your bed, waiting for you to sit down and hand him some snacks. You had gotten some chips, some sodas, and a few different kinds of candies. You got comfortable in your bed and focused on the movie, the thought of coming out to steve distracting you so much you couldn't even focus on the movie. You stood up, paused the movie, and sat back down on your bed.

"Steve, I need to tell you something," You started, there was a lump in your throat and your heart was racing. "I'm transgender, which means that I was born a girl but I'm a boy," Your voice was shaky, tears in your eyes as you looked everywhere in your room but Steve himself.

"Oh, so you want to be a boy?" Steve asked innocently, though the question wasn't meant to sound mean, your heart dropped as soon as he said it.

"No, no, I am a boy. I was just born as a girl." You felt tears in your eyes as you said this. You just wanted to be seen as a boy, even if it was just Steve.

"Oh," Steve said before thinking for a moment, "So, does anyone else know?" The question surprised you. You knew Robin explained some stuff about the queer community to Steve but you didn't think he'd know that you had to keep it a secret.

"No, but I want to tell Robin," You mumbled, trying to cover up the fact you were trying your hardest to not cry. Steve took notice and gently cupped your face with his hand, encouraging you to look at him.

"Robin explained some of this stuff to me, I know what transgender is and I can call you a boy if that's what you want. Robin also mentioned that some transgender people change their names. Is there a name you want me to call you?" Steve was careful with his wording, he didn't know if what he was saying was offensive or not and was praying that you wouldn't take it badly. You were shocked at how much he knew, but also relieved that he was accepting of you.

"Yeah, I do want you to speak of me like a boy and, I do have a name I like, m/n." Your voice was still a bit shaky from almost crying. You quickly wiped your tears with your hands and smiled to yourself.

"m/n," Steve repeated to himself, "It fits you," Steve smiled and hugged you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting manner.

"Thank you," You said, your voice barely above a whisper but Steve heard and just smiled in reply. You two stayed hugging until you pulled back, "Should we finish the movie?" You were much more confident now, not stuttering when you spoke.

"I have something to tell you as well," Now it was Steve's turn to be nervous, twiddling with his thumbs. Once you nodded for him to go on, he spoke. "I think I like you, like that. I was going to not tell you tonight but after you told me something so intimate I think I would like it if we could be, you know, boyfriends." His eyes were looking down at your carpeted flooring, expecting the worse. You were surprised but filled with Joy. Steve liked you and he called you a boy.

"Yes!" You blurted out, Steve's wide eyes shot and looked you in your eyes. You both were blushing immensely. Steves' face erupted in a smile, leaning in and kissing you out of excitement. The kiss surprised you but, you kissed back regardless. Steve pulled back from the kiss, his blushing calming down a little.

"Sorry," Steve started, "I probably should've asked first," He was slightly embarrassed over the fact that he forgot to ask to kiss you, he just hoped that you wouldn't get mad at him over it. He was relieved when your face showed kindness instead of anger or disgust. He expected you to tell him to just not do it again but was pleasantly surprised when you kissed him for a quick few seconds before pulling back.

"Now we're even, so you don't have to worry about it," You jokingly said, Steve just smiled and hugged you, his grip not squeezing you but holding you in a comforting manner.

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[venusiangguk]

gold rush pt. 3 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 9.9k um?

>>warnings: pegging!!!, butt stuff!!!, sexy anal!!!, sub jk, soft dom oc, crying why do i always make everyone cry, fingering (m), strap on, dildos, vibrators, sex toys, sex shop adventures, explicit sex, like so explicit this bitch is basically 10k, mutual masturbation, coming untouched, kisses, aftercare in the form of snacks, titty squeezing, dirty talk, excessive use of pet names, yoongi exists

>>notes: i wasn’t gonna write this bc ur girl does not know the first thing about pegging, but jk sucking the strap came to me in a dream and i had to do it. it was highly requested so i hope u like it! i wrote and poorly edited this whole thing today so im sorry for any mistakes !! 

>>summary: jk wants the strap, and jk gets what he wants !!

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

The sun is shining, and there’s just the perfect amount of breeze to cool Jeongguk as sweat runs down his temple. The soccer pitch just got cut, making the ball much easier to control, and therefore much easier to aim at Jimin’s ass. It’s cool-down time, so the team is in groups of three, idly kicking the ball between each other, for the last few minutes of practice. All in all, a great day to talk about getting pegged with his best friends.

Jeongguk glances around the field, making sure the other groups are far enough away from him and his friends before clearing his throat. “So… do you guys like… get pegged?”

When Taehyung passes the ball to Jimin, Jimin completely misses it due to the fact that he is looking at Jeongguk like he is the most pitiful human on the planet. Jeongguk adjusts his shin guard to avoid the scrutiny.

“Gguk… honey… are you dumb?”

Taehyung’s jogging back after retrieving the ball that ran astray. “No, Mini. He’s straight.” He kicks the ball to Jeongguk. “If by ‘pegged’ you mean fucked in the ass by a real dick, then yeah. We do.”

Jeongguk receives the ball with a ‘rainbow’ and juggles it from his thigh to his laces, balancing the ball for a second before kicking it to Jimin. He nods, contemplative. “Nice.”

“Okay ace.” He passes to Taehyung, before throwing Jeongguk a teasing look. “You thinking about taking it up the ass, Gukkie?”

“Perhaps I’m contemplating.” He sniffs nose in the air.

Taehyung laughs. “Got your button milked once and now you wanna take a phallic shaped object? Proud of you.” He places his hand over his heart, like the mere thought of Jeongguk getting railed makes his heart warm.

A whistle blows, and Jeongguk kicks the ball up to his arm, tucking it into the curve of his trim waist. “Why does everyone call it a button? And it hasn’t only been once.” He sounds exasperated and so so tired.

His friends jog to bump shoulders with him as they make their way to the locker rooms. “Hey, jokes aside, I think it’s cool you’re like comfortable enough, or whatever, with __ to explore the things you like.” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Okay Dad.”

“No seriously!” Jimin insists, holding the locker room door open for them. Fuck the rest of the team. “She seems good for you. Babys you like you need.” Jimin laughs.

Jeongguk’s shirt gets caught on his head as he squawks. “I don’t just like being babied, fuck you.”

“Okay so she also entertains your sadistic side. She’s the full package.”

Jeongguk looks down with a blush. He shrugs his shoulders lightly before bending over to get out of his gear. “She’s pretty cool I guess.”

Taehyung knees him while he’s still bent over making him stumble a bit. “Awe, Jeonggukkie is in love.”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk smacks him in the face with his smelly sock.

“When you gonna do it?” Jimin asks, buttoning his new pants. 

Apparently they aren’t showering today. Jeongguk will just have to stop at his dorm before heading to yours to help you study. That reminds him that you have a test on Friday, but are free this weekend. He just so happens to be free as well. The team they were supposed to play had to forfeit because their coach got caught sleeping with one of the cheerleaders. Sucks, but good for Jeongguk and his little asshole.

“Maybe this weekend.” With their backpacks on, they start the trek back to the dorms. It’s nearing night now, the sun just starting to set in the sky. Jeongguk pulls out his phone to tell you he’s stopping by his place before heading to you. You reply quickly.

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

okie

wanna have sex instead of helping me study 

me:

yeah but im not gonna 

just think about how good the sex will be when u get an a 

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

🙄

When Jeongguk pockets his phone, Taehyung speaks up.

“You think she’ll be down?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since the first time you made him cum untouched, butt stuff has been a moderately regular occurrence for you both as a long-term, healthy, pro-ass eating couple. Honestly it was mostly him getting his butt played with, but he supposed it made sense. Like Jimin explained to his once naïve self, it was just biological- or something. Whatever. He wonders if three fingers will be enough to fit a fake dick in his ass. He asks his friends.

“Eh…” Jimin starts, looking up like he’s thinking. “Maybe, but you might wanna try to get to four, maybe five if you're using hers, since she’s tiny.”

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open and he pales. Taehyung notices and laughs.

“Don’t get scared. It’s just better to over-prep than under-prep. And like obviously you work up to it, she’s not just gonna shove her fist or her cock up your ass.”

Her cock. A little tingle settles in Jeongguk’s lower belly at the statement. He’s been thinking about this for a while, looking at porn in his free time. Seeing the way the guys moan on their girls’ strap always gets him hard. Seeing how hard their cocks get when the toy hits them just right. He throbs when he sees the guys cum just from the strap, no hands. Maybe he should fuck you when he gets to your dorm instead of helping you study. His cock is feeling a little plump.

“Alright well… Bye, thanks for being gay and answering my anal questions!”

As he’s pressing the button to his elevator, they lived on opposite sides of the athlete dorm and there were different elevators for each of the wings, Jimin chirps, “Don’t forget to empty your asshole really well, and don’t eat the day of! Also buy extra lube and put a spare blanket down!”

Jeongguk winces. Valuable information indeed, information he mentally pockets, but did he need to yell it in the dorm common room?

“Noted!” He yells back at the elevator dings and opens up. Jeongguk pretends like he doesn’t meet the curious, kind of confused gaze of one of his teammates. He must have walked in while Jimin was yelling and only caught the end of the conversation while waiting for the same elevator. Jeongguk gets in and immediately closes the doors. He can catch the next lift.

~~~

Jeongguk’s got his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through his long, silky hair. He showered today, so waves of his aromatherapy lavender shampoo are wafting up to you. Sweet boy. He seems sidetracked, occasionally sighing and subtly twisting, but is still more or less purring on your thigh, feet tucked up onto the cushion of the couch. Netflix is on the small tv that was left by the last person who lived there, you’re mac book connected via HDMI. You’re not really paying attention. Mind kind of tired from all the studying you had done this week. Jeongguk fidgets a tiny bit again, wiggling like he’s trying to get comfortable. He huffs a sigh.

“Hey,” You say softly, getting his attention.

His body curves at the waist, causing his t-shirt to bunch up and show off the dip of his hip bone. He looks up at you with wide eyes. He seems surprisingly awake. Must have some busy little bees buzzing around his mind. He makes a little questioning noise.

“You okay? You’re kinda fussy.” You murmur.

He groans. “I-  am just thinking.”

“About?” You drag the word out in a singsong-y manner.

The way Jeongguk’s face flushes is so pretty, you have to stop yourself from cooing. 

He moves himself from your lap and sits facing you. He looks like he's thinking about what to say, or how to say what he’s thinking so hard about. 

Eloquently he states, “I’m horny.”

You glance at his cock. Not quite hard, but a little happy and excited. You chuckle, leaning towards him, giving him a playfully sexy look. “Okay, let’s fuck baby.”

Jeongguk blushes even more, cheeks tinted red, while he leans away from you.

You pout. “What?”

Again he pauses, a small pout on his lips. He seems to be in a soft, needy, difficult mood. You’re probably going to have to pry what he wants to say out of his mouth.

With another uncalled for exasperated huff, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and moves closer to you before catching you by surprise and swinging a leg over your lap. He’s facing you while he straddles your thighs. His arms are looped around your neck, he’s playing with a little bit of your hair, twirling the long length around his fingers. You smile up at him, gently. Your palms squeeze at his narrow hips encouragingly.

“I want to try something new…” He says. He sounds nervous and looks at you the same.

“Mhmm.” You say, fighting a smile. 

“Really bad. Like I want it really bad.” His hips roll, probably unconsciously from the way he closes his eyes to ground himself. 

You peek at his lap, and his cock is bulging, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to help hide it. You bring your hand to it, and massage him through his pants.

He whines and pushes against your palm before a hand comes down and grabs your wrist, stopping the movement. “Quit it, I’m trying to talk.” He’s so petulant and whiny.

You move your hand away and place it back on his hip, giggling a little. “Well spit it out, then.”

He scowls. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle in his brow before trailing it down and cupping his cheek. He softens immediately, melts like butter in your hands. His eyes close and he lets out a soft sigh, body relaxing a little.

He’s whispering, kinda giggling out of embarrassment, when he says, “I want you to fuck me.” He pauses, peeking at you through his lashes. “Like for real.”

Almost instantly a little spark ignites in your belly, and you feel your pussy get that telltale heartbeat. You didn’t want to push Jeongguk into anything, but you’ve been thinking about taking the ‘next step’ with your… ass-plorations for some time. But you figured he would get to the same point on his own, and would come to you when he was ready. Turns out you know him as well as you thought you did.

“Yeah?” You rub your free hand up his side. 

He nods quickly, eagerly. You pinch his cheek lightly, and he retaliates by trying to bite at it. To avoid the attack it finds his way back to his waist.

“When did you want to? Tonight?”

He wiggles impossibly closer to you. Kisses you quick before nodding again. “Yeah. I um. I already like prepped… mostly. I prepped what I could by myself.” He pauses with a cute thinking face. “You will probably have to help me a little. But yeah. I got ready for you just in case.” He nods.

You hum, glancing at the old clock on the wall, another gift from the prior tenant. 11:52 pm. 

“If we hurry, we can make it to a sex shop? They don’t usually close until 2 or 3 in the morning.” You suggest.

Jeongguk bites his lip, smiling excitedly. “Really? Can we?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, duh.” You lean up and give him a speedy, but thorough kiss, smiling into it. “Been wanting to peg you for so long.” 

His face scrunches endearingly. “Don’t call it that.”

He hops off your lap, and goes to grab the keys, wasting no time. He stands by the door expectantly. His cock is, extremely obviously, sticking out. Someone didn’t wear his briefs today.

“Can you like… kill that?” You’re laughing as you tug on some sweats of your own, having only been lounging in your panties and one of his shirts. Your usual at home attire.

He looks down, and has a smug grin on his face when he looks at you again. “It’ll go down in the car. Hurry up!”

~~~

A dildo looks so much bigger when one is looking at it knowing that it will be inside of them within the next few hours. And there are so many options and colors. Some vibrate, some have fake pubic hair on them. Some have balls that are squishy and feel eerily… accurate.

Jeongguk isn’t having second thoughts, no. But he is having thoughts. Very overwhelming thoughts. 

You’re next to your boyfriend, glancing between him and the varying selection of fake cocks displayed in front of you both, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks a little pale, but tentatively excited. Curious at the very least.

“Which one do you want?” You ask.

“No idea.” He responds, eyes wide.

Like most store clerks, one shows up, almost like they have a built in ‘customer needs help and has no idea which dildo to get to peg her super hot boyfriend’ radar. 

“You guys need help?” He is a small man, with a monotone voice. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at 12:30am on a Saturday night. 

“NO!” Jeongguk says quickly and loudly. Very loudly.

Both you and the store clerk flinch, looking at him shocked.

Jeongguk shifts on his feet. “No.” He says in a more socially acceptable tone. “No- I’m sorry. But we’re uh-” He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “We’re good, thanks.”

The clerk looks between you and Jeongguk and the dildos. “Um… Alright.” He starts to walk away before he turns back around. “Well if you change your mind, I’m Yoongi and I’ll be at the counter. If your toy is electric I’ll test it in the back before you leave… We uh- provide batteries with your purchase if needed…” With one last glance, a very judgmental one in Jeongguk’s opinion, Yoongi takes his place at said counter. His eyes flicker to you guys every once in a while.

“Baby,” You grab Jeongguk’s face between your palms and make him look at you. You squeeze and his lips poke out making him look like a guppy. He blinks. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay.”

He rolls his eyes, guppy face and all. “Well obviously. I just- We don’t need help.” He wiggles out of your grip, much like a… guppy.

You grin, trying not to laugh, and just be the supportive girlfriend you are. “Okay, did you decide which one you want?”

A side glance. “Not yet…”

You walk up and go to grab a pink sparkly one.

“Uh, not that one.”

You quirk an eyebrow and move your hand to a larger one.

“No.”

You play a little game of dildo hot or cold until you have a better idea of what Jeongguk wants. His preference seems to be skin tone, close to his own, with a more realistic feel. Normal balls though, not squishy. Also no faux hair. You thank him for that. If you actually had a penis it would surely be waxed. Bless Jeongguk for doing the same. As for size, he leaned more towards a very normal, moderate size. Maybe 5 or 6 inches at most, not too thick. Smaller than himself. One last option.

“Do you want it to vibrate?” You ask, holding one in your hand testing the numerous different settings.

He shakes his head, answering quick. “No.”

He pauses.

“Wait.” He thinks. “Maybe. Should we? You could use it too?” 

Sweet, kind, considerate angel. Always thinking about you and your pleasure. Couples who share the strap last the longest.

You shrug, pointing out, “I could use one that doesn’t vibrate too.”

He looks offended and sounds snotty. “Uh, you don’t need to.”

“Whatever. Why don’t we get both?”

You had a point. He pretends to ponder it, before nodding, already persuaded. “Okay.” 

“We need the harness now.”

You begin the harness hunt, walking through the store, coming across many a things, but for some reason you both keep missing them. They’re nowhere to be found. 

“Maybe they’re sold out?” He tries.

“Doubt it. Let’s go ask.” You grab him by his pinky and try to drag him to the counter. He resists. 

“Let’s not.”

“Koo.” You say giving him a look.

He whines, throwing his head back. Borderline throwing a fit. You hold your ground, smiling.

He’s easy to give in. Being a brat just on principle. “Fine but you’re talking.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Of course, baby.” With his pinky in hand, you make your way to the counter.

The store clerk, Yoongi, if you remember correctly, is sitting behind the counter hunched over smiling at his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re there.

You clear your throat gently, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi jumps, almost throwing his phone. “Fuck!” He exclaims. His fists come up ready to fight before he sees it’s you and Jeongguk. He then places his hand over his heart. “Shit, you scared me.” He chuckles, recovering quickly. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before speaking up. “Um yeah, I was just wondering where your harnesses are?”

He leans on the counter, head in his hand looking kinda bored. “Hanresses? What kind? Hanging harness? Body harness?”

You glance at Jeongguk and he looks like he’s going to die.

“The um- strap on harnesses?” Your voice goes to a whisper when you say it, despite it just being you guys in the store.

Yoongi sits up, and looks at you, and then looks at Jeongguk. A look of understanding comes over his face along with an amused smile. He nods to himself, while getting up to help you. “Nice. Follow me.”

Jeongguk gapes at the ‘nice’ and looks at you in disbelief. You pat his butt telling him to get going. 

With some help from Yoongi you pick out a harness that looks supportive and comfortable, the ring that holds the dildo, compatible with both the ones that you plan on getting. It’s a simple adjustable black one. Yoongi recommended wearing something under it if the straps dig into you and irritate. He seems bored, but he’s actually very good at his job, and very knowledgeable.  

Finally you’re at the counter. You place all the items in Yoongi’s reach and he’s just about to tell you the total when Jeongguk perks up.

“Wait!” He says before scurrying off.

It’s quiet for a split second. Before the clerk speaks up.

“He’s cute.”

You smile, “Thanks, he’s mine.”

Yoongi laughs, small little fish teeth and gums on display. Must be a Pisces. You know Pisces teeth. “Does he have any cute friends?”

You nod. “Yeah, but they are dating.”

He shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Uh… I can give you their Instagrams?”

He pulls out his phone, and follows them right there after a quick glance at their pages. Confidence is nice.

There’s a short lull in the conversation. And Jeongguk seems to be taking his sweet time getting something you guys must have forgotten. Or the poor things lost. It’s a big store. You speak up this time.

“Do you have like a manager I could leave a review for? You were really helpful, and seemed like you really knew what you were talking about.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I own the place. You think I would be here on a Saturday night if it wasn’t obligatory? Thanks, though.”

“Oh.” You say. That was pretty impressive. The store was quite successful based on the reviews. You would make sure to let Jimin and Taehyung know Yoongi was a business man.

“Okay, I’m back.” Jeongguk announces. “Sorry I forgot where it was.”

He places 2 (two) large bottles of lube on the counter. You cough out a laugh.

“Baby, we have lube at home.”

“But do we have enough?”

“I think maybe one more would be more than enough.”

He ignores you, looking Yoongi in the eyes for the first time tonight. “Add both please.”

Yoongi nods, looking a little scared of Jeongguk’s seriousness, and does as he’s ordered.

After Jeongguk pays, and you both are making your way to the exit, Yoongi calls out, “Good luck, tell your friends to follow me back!”

“Uh- Okay?” Jeongguk yells back. When you’re in the parking lot, he asks, “What the heck was that about?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

As soon as you get back to your dorm, the atmosphere is thick, full of tension and nervous anticipation. Jeongguk’s fidgety, eager to get started. You’re not far off, but contain yourself a little more. Need to keep control of the situation in case Jeongguk gets deep into his mood.

You guys are in the bathroom now, each one washing a toy before you use it. You make sure to unwrap the harness and the lube as well, both at Jeongguk’s insistent request, ensuring you don’t have to stop and deal with it later. 

“Let’s just get undressed in here, it’s where my hamper is.” You say already tugging your shirt over your head, tits bouncing freely. Jeongguk went without briefs today, and you went without a bra.

Jeongguk quietly follows suit, and you don’t miss the way his hands are trembling a little in anticipation. When you’re both naked he kisses you quickly, and jiggles your boobs a little just because they are there and because he can, before saying, “Okay, lets go.” He’s out the bathroom before you can even respond. You laugh to yourself and gather the stuff he forgot in his excitement.

When you walk out with your hands full, you see Jeongguk spreading out a blanket over your comforter.

“Whatcha doin?” You ask curiously, placing the items on the nightstand.

“Gets messy. Wanna save your bedding.” He states.

You squawk, grabbing the blanket he set up on your bed. “Not my baby blanket you monster.”

He laughs, abs tensing. You notice he’s already hanging a little heavy between his thighs. “Sorry. Was the first one I saw.” He walks over to the couch and replaces the blanket that’s hanging over the back with your baby blanket and resets up. “Better?” he asks, extended his arm towards your bed to show off his work.

You nod, and take the few steps needed to close the space between you both. Your hand runs down his belly, and you feel his muscles jump, and you see little goosebumps sprout all over. His hands come up to cup your tits. You kiss softly where his heart is. You look up at him.

“I love you.” You smile.

He blushes. “Love you.” He whispers, before he leans down and slots your lips together.

It’s eager from the start. Your bodies press together, as your hands roam. When he takes a breath and surges back in, your teeth click together is his haste, before his tongue slips into your mouth. He groans into you, his hand going down to cup your ass, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer. 

You feel his cock against your belly, almost fully hard already. You reach down to wrap a hand around him, wanting to help him get there before you get started. He hisses, thrusting forward instinctively before pulling away. He looks like he hates that he does.

“No- I,” He’s already short of breath, chest rising and falling a little bit faster than normal. “I wanna watch you cum. With the toy.” He reaches around you, grabbing the vibrating dildo. “Please?” He asks. His eyes are fervent.

You take the toy in your hand, and kiss him again softly. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you. It’s all about you tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Always about you too.” 

Your heart beats, happy in your chest. You thought about it earlier in the night, but Jeongguk really was the best lover. He always, always made sure you were taken care of, before, during, and after sex. He was so vocal and communicative, genuinely wanting you to know it was always about both of you, even if one was receiving more attention. He was caring like that in and out of the bedroom. You were so lucky to be his.

“You’re too good to me,” You laugh, climbing onto the bed. You settle back against your pillows, propping some behind you so you can see him, and watch him while you get off. He takes his place in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

He’s impatient, placing his hands on your knees, spreading you open so he can see your cunt. You let him get you into position before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself now, okay?”

He nods, eyes never leaving your pussy. He licks his lips. “Okay.” It’s said in a distracted kind of far away tone.

You hum as you bring the toy to your mouth, getting it wet. You wouldn’t need any lube, you would be dripping in no time. You don’t waste any time putting your free hand down between your legs and spreading your pussy lips, so your clit and the pretty pink center of your cunt are displayed for Jeongguk. You glance at him through your lashes, when you hear a small gasp fall from his lips. He’s already got a hand around himself. Just the tips of his fingers stroking his length, at a leisurely pace. 

“She’s so pretty… You’re so pretty.” His eye flick to your face before zeroing in on your center again.

“Tell me how to do it baby. Tell me what you want to see.” You say, voice salacious and soft. You circle your finger slowly around your nub, dipping inside just a bit to spread your slick around.

When he swallows, it’s audible, his Adam's apple jumping. “I want you to turn it on low, and put it on your clit. I want you to feel good.”

You smile, and drag the tip of it down your body to just above your clit, turning it on the lowest setting before making contact with your sensitive nub. Your legs jolt, almost closing when you feel the vibrations. Even the lowest setting was strong. Your head falls back, and your legs spread more for him once you get used to the strength of the toy. “Fuck…” You breathe.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, greedy for your pleasure.

You nod, eyes still closed, focusing. You move the vibrator in small circles over your clit. You can hear Jeongguk’s breaths speed up.

“Turn it up.” His voice gives away that he’s speeded up his hand on his cock too.

You do as he says, looking at him as you do. He’s sin personified. He’s on his knees, sitting back on his feet, so his thighs are flexed and bulging. His abs tense when his palm twists under the crown of his cock. His eyes almost look black, pupils blown so wide, lust taking over his face. He’s got his plump bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He looks up from your pussy and catches you staring. He smiles shyly.

You keep your eyes on him as you bring the toy back down to your core. A short high pitched moan falls from your lips, as your brows knit together, before your eyes roll back. He groans, your expression enough to make his cock start to leak.

“Feels so good, Jeongguk.” You moan. The vibrator is right where it feels best, pulsing against your clit, causing pleasure to bleed into your veins. 

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, he’s breathless, sounds like he’s in love. With you, your cunt. “Tell me.”

“‘S just right Koo, could make me cum just like this…” 

He curses, and you open your eyes just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, keeping himself in check. “Not yet, baby. Little longer, please.” Still so polite and good for you, even when he’s the one telling you what to do.

He has you keep the vibe there, for a while longer, right in the spot that’s gonna make you lose it. He watches as a tiny clear drop leaks from you pink little pussy. It looks like it’s heavy and about to drip down to the blanket under you. He doesn’t notice your legs shaking until you’re gasping, “Koo, I’m almost- I’m gonna-”

“No!” He says quickly, his hand reaches out to pull the vibrator from your cunt just before you get your high. Your pussy aches and throbs, wanting to cum so bad. 

Your chest is heaving when you ask, “Are… are you edging me?”

He shakes his head, even though your eyes are closed, trying to catch your breath. “No, no! I just. I got distracted.” He looks at that small drop of slick again. Fuck, he wants to lick it up and drink you down. “You’re leaking.” He states.

You laugh, breathing getting back to normal. “Yeah?” You reach your hand down to collect the distracting little droplet and bring it in front of you. You press the sticky finger to your thumb and then pull them apart to see the clear strings stay connected even as you pull. You hum, before offering your hand to Jeongguk. He sucks in a breath.

“Want some?” 

He’s quick as he crawls between you legs, cock fully hard now. He watches you as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around getting every last bit, before he sucks off with a pop!

He crawls farther up your body to kiss you deep, wanting you to get a taste of yourself too. He pulls back just a bit, and whispers against your lips, “I want you to fuck yourself with it, okay? Just for a little bit, then you can cum?” He’s phrasing it as a question, knowing he really doesn't have the final say, not tonight. But his voice is shaking from how turned on he is, how could you ever say no?

“Sit back.” Is all you respond. He does as he’s told.

You buzz the toy over your clit again, just because you can. Wanting to see how long Jeongguk can be good before begging. Turns out it’s not long at all. 

“Put it in…” He moans. You look at him and his mouth is parted, and his eyes heavy as he watches you. His hand is moving fast over his cock, sticking straight up to his tummy. “Please.”

You drag the toy down to your slit, and tease it there before just barely pushing it in just a fraction of the length. Jeongguk whines, high and desperate. Apparently you’re moving to slow for him.

“More,” He begs. 

You sigh, “You’re so needy tonight, baby.” He nods, agreeable.

When the toy sinks inside of you all the way to the hilt, you and Jeongguk both moan a quiet, “Fuck.” simultaneously. You’re coherent enough to laugh a little at the jinx, but he seems to barely notice, too focused on watching the toy sink into you, and then come back out to vibrate your clit again. You keep up this teasing pattern, again waiting to be told what to do by him, waiting to see how long he makes it this time.

“Harder, do it harder,” He’s panting. Moaning every word that leaves his lips.

You do as he says, and finally push the toy in at a pace that gets you climbing to being close again. You won’t be able to come like this though, and he knows that. Knows that you can only cum from penetration with him. He leans over and grabs the other toy from the end table, spitting on it and spreading it around until it's covered well.

“Use them both, want you to cum for me.”

With two toys in your hands, one in your cunt, filling you up, and one on your clit, making your legs shake, you do your best to make yourself cum. But it’s not enough. A soft whine falls from your lips, you’re so close, but you need more. More than you can give yourself.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re so close.” He whispers. He got both hands working now too, one stroking and one down tugging on his balls. 

You whimper, “I can’t my arm hurts. It’s tired.”

Immediately he stops pleasing himself and gets right to pleasing you. Your pleasure taking priority. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll help you baby.”

Jeongguk sits between your legs, and takes over the toy fucking into you, and turns up the one on your clit. With him pushing the toy in at a pace that you couldn’t do yourself, and the other toy vibing your clit incessantly, it takes barely any time at all for you to cum. You were so close already, just needed him to push you over. 

Your legs are shaking and your toes are curling, when you cry out, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby. Wanna watch.” He’s quiet, paying close attention to your body and the reactions he’s helping pull from it. He’s part of the reason why your face looks so pornographic as you finish. He’s part of the reason why your back is arching off of the bed. He’s part of the reason why your toes are curling, and why your legs are shaking, and why your pussy is contracting over the toy he’s still thrusting inside of you, working you through every last second of your orgasm. He reads your body cues, and slows down and pulls it out when you start to come down. You look blissed out, and you bring a hand to your hair and fluff it a little before laughing.

“That was good.” You sigh smiling, and when you look at him an image forms in your head, and you have every intention of making him carry it out.

Right before your eyes, Jeongguk wraps his lips around the toy that is going to be inside of him in just a short while, sucking off your slick. He laps his tongue around it trying to get it all. He’s obscene. 

“Gimme,” You say sitting up with an extended hand. 

He pouts at being interrupted, but does as he’s told. He takes your spot on the bed, and you head to the bathroom, stopping by your dresser on the way.

When you get to the bathroom, you close the door and get to cleaning the toys once again. After, you get to the stuff you grabbed from the wardrobe. A lacy pair of black panties, and sheer black thigh highs with matching lace adorning the tops. You slip into them, and then move on to the strap on. You hold it in front of you and try to make sense of which part goes where, and which holes your legs go into. It takes a second, but you get into it, adjusting it so it's nice and snug. Your outfit probably won’t help much with protecting your thighs, but at least the little part above your pussy will be safe. You look at yourself in the mirror. Not too weird or scary yet. You glance at the dildo on the counter.

It’s not too big so hopefully it’s not too… jarring when you see yourself with it. You get to work, slipping the suction base of the non-vibrating toy into the ring that’s meant to hold it in place. You look at it sticking out from your crotch and take a deep breath before turning to the mirror.

You gasp, before cackling quietly. You knew it was going to be weird. Like you knew. But actually seeing yourself with the whole get up is funny. Right now at least. You know it’s going to be sexy, once you get used to it and into the moment and inside of Jeongguk. You wonder how he’s going to react. Only one way to find out.

While you're walking to your bedroom from the bathroom, the dildo bobs, and you're giggling distractedly until you lift your eyes to let your boyfriend know you're ready. Again you’re met with a scene so indecent it belongs in a porno.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed and soft moans are falling from his lips as he strokes his cock. He’s got three fingers in his ass, opening himself up for you, for your cock. Such a good good boy. He was so patient and productive while you got ready for him.

“You’re so good baby,” You murmur softly.

Jeongguk blinks his eyes open slowly, and rolls his head to the side to look at you. He doesn’t even falter in his movements at all, hand still moving, fingers still thrusting. He smiles a little when he sees you, but his eyes are hazy and he sounds lust drunk when he simply says, “You look sexy.”

You blush and a fond smile graces your lips, any embarrassment or self consciousness you were feeling prior to seeing him spread out for you on your bed, quickly vanishing.

You settle on the bed between his legs and watch for a moment as his hole takes his long fingers in. “Want me to help?” You ask quietly.

“Mhmm,” He nods, eyes closed still, tongue peeking out from between his lips. He doesn’t take his fingers out, though.

You grab the lube next to him, and flip it open. “You gonna get out so I can get in?” 

He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Put one in with mine.”

Something about that makes your body tingle. Inside of him with him. Opening him up. You can’t explain it, because you don’t really even get it yourself, but it makes you buzz and feel almost high.

You slick up your middle finger, and drizzle some more on his for good measure. He jumps slightly, and then giggles softly.

“Cold.” He says.

“Sorry,” You say distractedly. Your finger is lined up with his now.

“I’ve never done 4 before so you… have to go slow…” He pauses as he speaks, letting himself moan freely when his fingers graze over that secret spot that he’s grown to love so much.

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

He doesn’t reply, just stops his fingers so you can wiggle yours in next to his. At the first push against his hole, there’s resistance. Very much expected. He’s quiet, teeth gritted, but he never says stop, knowing his body wants it, and knowing it will accommodate what he wants. After the second knuckle, your finger sinks in, almost gets sucked in, by his hole.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay, baby?” You check in.

“Yeah just… full.” He moans when you wiggle your finger experimentally. “”S good. Move it some more.”

You do, and his start to move with yours. You can feel his fingers curl inside of himself to reach his prostate, and it’s pleasant in an out of body way, knowing when his face is going to contort in pleasure, and when he’s going to cry out, when you never really knew before. You’ve milked him before, of course, but feeling him do it to himself from the inside? It’s kind of thrilling.

“Pull, stretch me out.” He moans, voice impatient and needy.

He gets kinda slutty when something’s up his ass.

He swears when you do, his finger rubbing insistent circles on his prostate to distract himself from the minor sting of the stretch. His moans, start to raise in pitch and his hand that’s on his cock, still jerking it, starts to speed up. You can tell he’s close. He clenches against your finger that’s still stretching him open.

“Fuck,” He says, on a breathless giggle, “Take them out. Or I’m gonna cum.” He’s still stroking his cock, like he doesn’t wanna stop.

“You c-” 

“No. Out.” He demands, hand finally pulling away from his cock, and his fingers inside stop. You gently ease out of him.

When Jeongguk’s fingers slip out, you gasp. His little pink hole is clenching on nothing, still open just the tiniest bit, thoroughly stretched.

“You know how you always say my pussy is pretty?” You ask, fingers tracing around the puffy stretched rim.

He makes an affirmative noise, watching you with hooded, lazy eyes as you touch him. He even spreads farther so you can touch and see better. You marvel at the difference between the embarrassed boy you made cum untouched a couple months ago, and the one in front of you now, so comfortable and relaxed. It makes you happy.

“Well, your butthole is pretty.”

He snorts, and kicks you lightly. He smiles at you, soft and sluggish. “Just fuck me.” 

He sounds so wistful and just ready.

But you’re not.

You grip the base of your cock, and stand up. You walk to the head of the bed, next to his confused face. You stay there waiting for him to get it. He doesn’t.

“You want me inside of you right baby?” You ask, voice gentle.

He nods, eyes no longer hazy, but wide and confused. He looks between you and your cock.

“I think that means you have to get me ready. Get me nice and wet, right?”

You can physically see when Jeongguk gets it. When it clicks for him. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “Yeah… You’re right. I should… help you.” He whispers, sitting up. You back up enough for him to have a place on the floor.

Jeongguk on his knees for you isn’t a new sight. He’s eaten your pussy like this before, you either grinding onto his face, or him holding you still and making quick work of your clit. But Jeongguk on his knees for you to suck your cock? New, and lewd. 

He looks nervous, kind of hesitant. A hand is raised midway, like he isn't sure if he should grab it. 

“Lick it, baby.” You encourage.

He glances at you, doe eyes seeking approval as he leans forward and gives a kitten lick to the tip. You nod, letting him know he’s doing well. His hand comes up and replaces yours at the base and he opens his mouth enough to wrap his lips around the head, and he swirls his tongue.

He pops off, and strokes up to where his mouth was and spreads the little bit of spit. The silicone is still dry though, so he spits on it more, straight from his mouth. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby.” You whisper a breathy moan as his hands move up and down your cock. He adds his mouth again.

He hums a little, before backing up and looking at you again. “Does that feel good?” He asks.

You laugh lightly, in pure awe of him. He’s so sexy, and so sweet, and so incredibly lust inducing. Your pussy aches behind your cock. “Feels so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He hums, still stroking you off. “I really want it inside me…” He says, hinting that he’s ready.

You have mercy on him, having fulfilled your newfound personal fantasy enough for the night. Maybe you could revisit it another time. But now it was time to fulfill a mutual fantasy.

“On the bed, hands and knees.” You tell him.

Excitedly he hops back onto the bed, and gets into position, his hole on display for you. His back is arched and you can see the plush swell where his lower back meets the top of his cheeks. You settle behind him, and his shoulder to waist to hip ratio, is sinful. He’s always had the daintiest waist, strong, but still so small. But at this angle, it’s cinched and the way his legs are spread makes his hips look wider, accentuating the dip at his middle. You rub your hands over the narrow curve, all the way to his cheeks, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. There’s a slight give when you squeeze your hands.

Jeongguk’s head drops, and he lets out a shuddering sigh, he’s got the chills again, and he’s got a constant thrum coursing through his body. “Please…” He moans, so quietly, so desperately.

You kiss the small of his back before grabbing the lube left abandoned on the bed. You lather 2 of your fingers, and push them into Jeongguk’s hole making sure he’s nice and slick. There’s no resistance at all, hole loose and ready enough for them to slip right in. Then you lather your cock, probably with too much lube, honestly, but you wanted to be so sure that he didn’t feel any more pain than absolutely necessary. You knew the first initial push in would be the worst, but you were hopeful you both had stretched him out enough to at least minimize or diminish it altogether. 

You grab the base of your cock and line it up with his hole. It flutters, when you barely press against his rim.

“Ready?” You ask, giving a heads up.

“Yeah.” He says softly.

He’s tight. His hole sinks in with the tip of your cock before the rim gives and swallows around it. Jeongguk tenses and his hands grip the blanket under you. 

“Shit…” He groans. He sounds like he’s clenching his teeth.

You rub soothingly at his lower back, fingers dipping when you run them over the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You’re doing so good baby.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t really hurt, I’m just stretching.” He says through his teeth. “I can take it though, keep going.”

You grab the lube and drizzle more directly onto his hole. He doesn’t mention the cold this time, too focused on taking your cock. You push against him, and feel yourself sink deeper into him. It’s like after the tip was in, his body knew what to do to take the rest. The slide wasn’t a swift, fast stroke, but it was a smooth and slow glide. When you bottom out Jeongguk’s arms give out from under him, his face going to the bed. 

“Holy fuck.” He keens, resting his head on his arms. Your hands are constantly on him, soothing him in any way that you can.

“Tell me when.” You whisper patiently. He nods. With his head turned to the side and pillowed on his arms, you can see his eyes are squeezed shut. The inhales and exhales you can see in the expanding of his ribcage, tell you that he’s taking deep breaths working through the stretch, getting himself used to it.

“Okay… Ready.” He murmurs.

You pull out just a bit before pushing back in. Jeongguk moans softly. Spreads his legs even wider, arches his back even deeper. He’s pushing his ass out for you, his body begging you to make it feel good.

You keep a slow pace, kind of nervous to speed up. 

“You can go faster, feels nice.” He says. He’s been puffing out little gasps of air every time you bottom out with your slow pace.

With his consent, you grab at his hips and pull out to just the tip, before swiftly pushing back in, fast and hard. His cheeks bounce on the impact. You grab one and jiggle it a little, thrusting into him again, drinking down the whines that slip out.

“You’ve got such a bubble butt, I never noticed before. But it like… bounces.” You say, wonder in your tone. 

“Thanks, can you like tell me about it later?” He asks, voice strained.

Point taken. 

Your thrust game is kind of shitty, in reality. It’s hard to find a rhythm, your hips not used to moving this way. But Jeongguk is moaning freely underneath you, just happy to have something inside of him after thinking about it all week. So you keep going, and eventually, the pattern comes to you, still kind of messy, but now you’ve got him cursing beneath you. You’ve got one hand on his ass, the other braced on his arched spine.

A particularly good thrust has Jeongguk burying his face into the bed, teeth biting at the bedding. “Yeah fuck-” He groans with his mouth full of blanket. With his hands now free, he brings them behind him and settles them on his cheeks and spreads.

You watch clearly as your cock sinks into Jeongguk’s ass. You’re out of breath, but you make sure to tell him how good he looks, how pretty his hole looks swallowing your cock, like it was made to take it.

“Wanna ride you.” He says. His voice is pitifully wrecked and he sounds so thoroughly fucked, you feel a little proud. Still, you’re grateful for a break. You don’t know how he fucks you like he does. ‘Topping’ is tiring. You pull out of him, and realize that when you were in awe of his hole at taking your fingers, it was premature. Jeongguk’s hole after he takes your cock is vulgar. It’s properly gaped now. Not huge, but around a fingers width.

He rolls over, and settles on his back like he just needs a moment. His chest is heaving, similar to yours. You hop off the bed, and a needy keen comes from him. You glance back at him, and he looks like he’s going to get up and follow you, but you hush him gently.

“I’m just getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back.” 

He huffs flopping back onto his back. “Hurry please.” He whines.

You get back as soon as possible with a glass of water for you both to share. He sits up onto one elbow and makes a grabby hand for the cup after you’ve had your share. You swat his hand away and hold the cup to his lips. He hums, gulping the water down. He’s happy to be coddled and taken care of. When he finishes with a cute little gasp, you place the cup to the side, and brush your hand through his sweaty hair. 

He butts his head against your palm and laughs. His eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners. His water break seems to have perked him up. His cock hasn’t deflated one bit. Rock hard and red, throbbing against his tummy. It’s messy and wet too.

You’re about to ask if he touched himself while you were inside of him, but before you can, you’re getting manhandled until he’s on top of you. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, and he smiles at you playfully, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and slow. He sucks on your lip, and slowly grinds his cock onto your belly, soft whines spilling from his tongue. He brushes his nose against yours as he sighs into your mouth, finally allowing himself the pleasure of paying attention to his cock. 

He doesn’t allow himself relief for long, however. He’s sitting up and looking from side to side for the lube before finally spotting it. His movements are quick and hectic, like he’s too excited and overly eager.

You rub your hands over his strong thighs. “Hey, slow down. You don’t have to rush. We have all night.”

He sighs at your touch, and nods softly. He whispers. “Yeah… okay. I love you.”

The little affection makes you swoon, absolutely smitten. “I love you.” You squeeze at his legs, tenderly.

He hums. “Gonna ride you now.” He opens the lube and continues with eager actions, almost like you didn’t even slow him down just a moment ago. You smile fondly to yourself. Jeongguk’s too busy slicking up your cock again to notice the mushy look.

He’s got a hand reaching behind him and he’s gripping your cock to line it up with his hole. He wiggles to get into the right position before slowly starting to sink down. His eyebrows are pinched, and his mouth falls open. But his eyes roll back when he bottoms out. His hands are braced on your stomach.

“Oh, I love it like this.” He whimpers. His legs tense at your sides, almost like he’s trying to close his legs at the pleasure he feels from your cock being tucked inside of him, hitting all the right places. He starts to grind on your cock, soft pleasured little mewls just tumbling off his tongue.

He looks so good, whining, grinding on you with his weeping cock displayed. But you wanna see him lose it on your cock. See him fall apart at how good it feels, not watch him bask in it.

“Bounce on it.” You say, voice sounding almost as fucked out as his. You know your panties are soaked through at this point, pussy pulsing and neglected, tucked away behind the strap.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, wanna.” 

He’s lifting himself off your cock to the tip before sliding down on it again, hard and fast. It punches a sharp gasp from his lungs. He finds a pace he likes and keeps it up, his thighs tensing, and his abs flexing as he tests his stamina, chasing that euphoric feeling he wants so so badly. He’s so strong and fit, bouncing up and down on your cock as loud unabashed moans fill the room. 

The force of him riding you makes your tits jiggle, bouncing around until they catch his attention. He groans before his hands find them, squeezing hard, using them as leverage as he pulls and drags his hips over yours. Your cock must be rubbing over his prostate because he’s losing his mind. All kinds of noises leave his mouth, and the expressions he makes are filthy.

“Fuck baby. You make me feel so good. The best- I-” He eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent moan, overwhelmed, before a guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest. “God. Wanna cum on your cock, baby. Fuck me-”

You laugh, wonderstruck, and kind of deliriously high on the satisfaction and fulfillment you get from seeing Jeongguk feel so just…. Good. “Yeah baby? You’re gonna cum for me? All over my cock?”

He whimpers and nods as he gets back to bouncing, a desperation to his movements that wasn’t there before. His cock is slapping against both of your stomachs with nasty wet noises due to his precum getting everywhere. You feel some fly and hit your neck, his cock just dripping, weeping and begging to cum. 

It won’t be long though, before he cums. You feel the way his thighs tense, and he gets that confused look on his face, and he’s got that puzzled pitch to his moans. It’s the way he always gets when he cums untouched, always in awe that he can do it himself, without a hand around his cock. His whole body is flushed and hot to the touch, sweat making him glow in the soft light of your bedroom lamp.

He throws his head back, neck extended, and veins bulging, before looking down at his bouncing cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s so whiny and noisy when he moans.

“Yeah?” You ask again, “Do it baby, show me how. You can do it, cum for me.” 

He’s nodding frantically, “Yeah- I’m gonna... Fuck, yes- Yeah, I’m-” He bounces a few more times, silent aside from the obscene squelching noises of your skin meeting, before his body tenses one last time before that string in him snaps. “Cumming-” He chokes it out. His moans don’t stop the whole time his cock shoots out his load, landing on your tummy. The moans even turn into cries, actual tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. His body jerks and twitches with his orgasm. But still, he’s grinding on you, your cock still rubbing that spot inside of him, it’s like he never wants the feeling to end, even if it’s devastating, bordering on too much to handle.

You smooth your hands all over his sweaty body, before firmly placing them on his hips, stopping him. “Hey. You’re good, you did so good baby, you don’t have to keep going.”

Jeongguk’s cries are quiet, and he takes a few deep stuttering breaths to try and calm himself down, nodding with your soothing words. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, trying to dry them. It doesn’t help much, he’s calmed himself some but a few silent tears still make their way out, along with some soft hiccupping breaths.

“Lay down, and wait for me, hmm?” You whisper gently. He nods and lifts himself slowly, wincing at the sore ache in his hole. It’s more prevalent now that the pleasure has subsided. He all but collapses onto your pillow. 

“I’m gonna get some more water, and a towel okay?”

He grunts in response.

Before you go, you strip out of the gear, just tossing it on the ground, eager to get back to Jeongguk after getting the things you need.

When you get back, he is in the same exact position, and you laugh lightly. 

“Baby?” You ask, making sure he didn’t fall asleep.

Another grunt.

Good, he would hate you in the morning if you left him to sleep being so messy.

“Sit up, I have water and snacks and cleaning supplies.”

His head pops up. “Snacks?” His hair is sticking up on one side.

You laugh, endeared. He’s not crying anymore either, a good sign that he will be okay in just a little while after some kisses and love.

“Yeah, I got some of those seaweed chips you like, and some water.”

He sits up, leaning back on the pillows knowing the drill for after butt stuff. You hand him the water and the chips. He eats first.

“You hungry?” You ask, fitting yourself between his legs with the warm washcloth. He opens easily, munching away. You both are far past after sex shyness.

He talks with his mouth full. “Yeah. Jimin said not to eat the day off.”

You hum curiously, but don’t question it. Jimin partakes in butt stuff much more than you both. 

You’ve got all the lube cleaned off his thighs and cheeks, now all that’s left is his hole. You do it as gently as you can, knowing he’s sore just from how red and swollen and puffy it is.  But he still winces.

“How bad is it?” He mumbles.

You hesitate. “Um… You’re gonna be a little sore.” You tell him simply.

He groans, before downing his water. When he’s done, he says, “Practice is going to suck.”

You nod in agreement. It was. You wrap the used cloth in the blanket you used to protect your sheets, once again just tossing the bundle to the floor.

“Worth it though,” He smiles, pleased.

You chuckle as you find your place by him. He’s set his refreshments aside and lets you curl against him. His body sags with exhaustion when he feels your warmth press into him. You plant kisses on every inch of skin you can reach. He purrs.

“Why’d you keep going?” You ask, between smooches.

“I don’t know… it just felt so good. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.” He’s quiet, and his words are said on a sigh.

You nod, your kisses making your way to his lips. You just kiss him, slow and easy, for a few minutes until he yawns into it. He giggles.

“I’m so tired man.”

“I bet man.” You tease.

He kisses you one more time before asking, “Will you tickle my back until I fall asleep?” It’s hopeful and so sugary sweet.

“Yeah roll over.”

It’s barely a few minutes before you're met with his soft snores. You kiss his shoulder blade, before following right behind him.

~~~~

you ask for pegging and you shall receive :] i hope you liked it and that it met ur pegging standards askdkhjd as always, comments and feedback and asks and notes are loved and appreciated. thank you for reading friends ily :* 

[angeli-marco-writes]

∘◦ ♪ ◦∘ Timothée Chalamet - Concerto ∘◦ ♪ ◦∘

A/N - I wrote and posted this almost a year ago on my Wattpad. My writing has evolved a lot since then, but I’m still proud of this piece, and hope you enjoy it. I do not know Tim, nor do I claim to in any way. This is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 

Warnings - smut. Detailed (but protected and consensual) sex, slight BDSM, overstimulation. Cursing. Legal alcohol consumption and smoking. Also 10k words of sickening fluff though, even the smut is fluffy.

Summary - At a classical music concert, the last person you expect to meet is a young man as charming and suave as Timothée. And the last thing you expected is for him to invite you back to his flat. Turns out music really is food for the soul, and other things...

IT’S A FRIDAY EVENING IN NEW YORK CITY. The sun is setting behind the towering silhouettes of undulating buildings all across the city, the moon casting shadows all around au contraire to the luminescence of building lights, beaming all around as well as the street lamps, bringing colour and light to people’s faces in the dark.

You’re standing on the pavement outside Symphony Space Concert Hall on the Upper West Side, people watching. Nothing more or less conspicuous, just observing everyone flooding into the hall, though none of them seem to be under 50 years of age. After checking the time, you take your phone out of the pocket attached to your delicate silk jumpsuit you’re wearing for the night, the one reserved for classy parties and sophisticated concerts only (though very handy). You open the email holding your ticket for the evening, a Poulenc appreciation concert, and you show it to the bouncer who grants you entry to the auditorium.

The room looks incredible. Photos of Francis Poulenc, as well as some old parchment sheets of his music spread out delicately over the usually bare walls. The lights create a perfect ambience in the hall for what's sure to be an incredible evening. The red velvet seats are half full, dotted with people at least twice your age, except from one seat near the front where you can see merely a defined jaw and brown curls. On the stage stands two glossy black grand pianos, slotted beside one another with plush velvet stools and their lids propped up, allowing one to see the inner workings of such wonderful instruments. Behind the pianos are seats enough for an entire orchestra, creating a crescent moon shape. A couple of the seats already have instruments atop them, aching for their owners to play beautiful melodies with them. You make your way down to where your seat is, familiar with the layout of the auditorium. You’re on the right hand side of the centre stalls, third row back, but as you arrive, there’s a boy you saw earlier, not much older than yourself.

“Hi, do you mind if I squeeze past?” You ask him, watching his head jolt up from the programme to reveal a mop of beautiful dark brown curls framing his chiselled face, piercing green eyes with flecks of hazel when the light changed direction. You recognise him, an actor, you simply can’t place him.

His look of incredulity melts into a smile. “Sure.” He says, moving his legs so that you can squeeze past and take your reserved seat on his left. He turns to face you, smiling. He’s wearing a crisp navy suit with a pale blue shirt and a matching tie. He looks well presented, and by his nervous and lopsided smile, you guess that he’s rather nervous to be at the concert alone too. “Timothée.” He tells you, holding his hand out.

You return his gesture, smiling right back at him, and tell him your name. “You here alone?” You ask him, turning in your seat to get a better view. He nods.

“Thought I’d be the only under fifty here.” He laughs, “I’m 24 by the way, but I shan’t ask your name since you're a lady.” You can't help but laugh at this, just a little giggle at how sweet he is, but your interaction is cut short as the lights turn down in the auditorium but shine brighter on the stage, and a full orchestra enters the stage, accompanied by their instruments, two pianists and a conductor. Murmurs in the hall settle down to a faint hum while the musicians tune to the sound of the oboe, and then begin to play.

The music is mesmerising, starting with orchestral pieces with faint piano accompaniment, then just a nocturne for piano, split between the two lead pianists. You could listen to it all night, but an interval has to come. As the lights slowly turn back up, you see an infantile smile on Timothée’s face, as though he’s just watched the most excellent thing in the world.

“Come on,” you say to him, smiling sadly while you tap his knee, “let’s get a drink.”

He reluctantly stands up to follow you out of the auditorium and to the small bar area. You order two margarita’s without consulting him, but he seems grateful as you sit beside each other on a high table, people watching once again.

“What's your job then?” He asks you, making small talk.

“I’m a piano major at Juilliard, teaching piano on the side though.” You respond, and he seems really taken aback. His jaw falls a little slack while his eyes bulge a tad.

“Wow, you must be excellent!” You blush a little at his words, elegantly taking a sip from your drink while he eyes you carefully. You feel awkward under his gaze, though flattered nonetheless. He’s gorgeous, and he’s complimenting you and accepting drinks from you, what a night.

“What about you?” You inquire. He's an actor, you know that, but asking means that you may be able to get some more context and maybe it’ll click where you’ve seen him before. He clears his throat, and you can see some older people walking by who pull faces, judging the pair of you, but you brush them off.

“I’m an actor, mainly small films though.” He says, remaining vague. You don’t push much more, realising that he probably likes not being fawned all over for once, so you simply ask of the favourite names he’s had the honour of working alongside, which must be an uncommonly asked question because a light flickers behind his eyes.

“Selena Gomez, Steve Carell, Armie Hammer, Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Robert Pattinson, Maia Mitchell…” He begins to list, but only when he mentions Maia does it click. You aren't huge into films, but you have seen him in a film with Maia Mitchell and Maika Monroe a few years ago.

“Hot summer nights, right? You were in that?” His cheeks turn a magnificent crimson and he bows his head as though embarrassed. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘not my best performance’, but you disagree. “I think you were wonderful, and did you mention Armie Hammer?” He nods again, seeming a little brighter. You take another sip from your drink, and he follows suit, watching your poised movements.

“Call Me By Your Name.” You nod in recognition, you remember watching the film when it first came out and loving the music from it.

“You’re excellent you know, at piano I mean, and the intimate scenes aren’t half bad either, you make them better.” You say with a teasing smirk on your painted lips, making Timothée’s eyes widen again. You chuckle and grasp his hand, dragging him into the auditorium for the second half.

The second half is a whole concerto, Poulenc’s Concerto For Two Pianos And Orchestra. Ten minutes in, Timothée’s hand finds your thigh and seems very comfortable, so comfortable in fact that you don't dare move it. As the concerto flows further on, his hand slides further up your clothed leg and squeezes your upper thigh a little You tense under his touch, infatuation and lust filling every cell and exiting through your pores, just waiting for more passion to fill your body and make you drunk on the feeling.

When finally the concert ends, both of you stand to applaud the musicians for a solid few minutes, and you could swear you see a tear leaving Timothée’s mysterious eyes and rolling down his heavenly made, painfully defined cheekbones. While you clap, you surreptitiously edge closer together, millimetre by millimetre until you’re hip to hip with elbows nudging. Your head comes up to his chin, making you feel a little small, but you’ll feel even smaller once your heels come off. Once the majority of the audience have filed out, you grasp his hand and pull him through the crowds where you stand on the corner of the pavement, only metres from the venue. You’re reluctant to loosen your grip on his slim hand, as he is with yours.

“Cigarette?” He offers, holding a half full box out to you. You half smile and shake your head in refusal.

“I don’t mind if you do though.” You say, meeting his gaze. “I love the taste of smoke when I kiss someone.” You add in a whisper, leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He goes rigid, making you smirk to yourself. This is going to be a good night.

He lights his cigarette and takes slow drag, only looking away to blow the smoke in an opposite direction to you. How respectful, you think, as your stomach fills with butterflies and bubbles with anticipation. He puts it out on top of a bin and throws it away without littering, and just that small and helpful gesture makes you crave his touch, having his fingers trace your sweaty skin and making your body tingle, your back arch with desire and pleasure.

“Wanna get a drink?” You ask, pointing to a nice bar across the road. You’re desperate to sleep with him, but not without pleasantries first. He, however, shakes his head and intricately entwines his fingers with yours.

“I’ll do you one better than a drink.” His smirk sets off a different kind of longing in you, forcing your body to follow him wherever he takes you.

As you walk, he starts conversation, but you’re so breathless from the desperation speed walking that your answers are brief. He asks you why you attended the concert, only to remember that you’re a music student and piano teacher; so in turn, you ask him the same question.

“When I was doing Call Me By Your Name, I had to learn the piano, and while I was learning classical pieces, I kind of just fell in love with classical piano music, I don’t know.”

His nervousness is sweet, making him appear far more humble than anyone of his stature would usually be.

You get to his building after a twenty minute dash in heels, and he pulls you flush against him while entering through the revolving doors, allowing you to lay your weight on him for a moment while you gather your breath. You feel his heartbeat thudding and racing against his ribs, reverberating against your own chest. You turn around to face him and place your hand on his chest.

“Breathe.” You say to him, allowing him to release a long held breathy chuckle. You leave the doors, both laughing, and fervently press the buttons to wait upon a lift. “So,” You then continue, breaking the silence where only your breaths were heard. “Favourite piano piece from the Call Me By Your Name soundtrack?”

“Hallelujah Junction!” You both answer at the same time, just as the lift doors open. You fall into the lift in a fit of giggles, clinging onto each other. You find yourself with your back pressed against the cold metal handle bar in the elevator with Timothée’s face inches away from your own. Your breath mingles together. As soon as he presses the button to his floor, he nudges his nose with your own.

“God, you're so beautiful.” he says seconds before his mouth is pressed hotly against your own, kissing you with an unrivalled passion. Your lips mould and move together like it’s second nature. His one hand holds your waist while both of yours grip his face, feeling a slight stubble.

The lift dings and he drags you out, unlocking his apartment door and leading you inside.

“Welcome to Casa del Timmy.” he says while hugging you from behind, allowing you to get a full view.

His apartment is stunning. Sleek, yet also vintage. Your eyes follow across the perimeter through a door to the left, where he has an office area containing a sleek white desk with a mac and a stack of papers and pens, next to it is a vintage white bookcase stacked as high as possible with novels of all shapes and sizes, and even an indie style rug underneath a colourful modern dining set..

The door next to the office is a kitchen, white countertops with wooden cupboards and a beautiful view of the city out of the window. To the right is a set of glass doors that open onto a small balcony where you can see the whole city, even Manhattan and Brooklyn depending which way you look and how the moon beams down. There’s a closed door right in front of you and through the entry hall and living room which you assume is his bedroom held behind a golden doorknob.

His living room, where you remain standing, holds an array of house plants with a couple of very comfortable looking plush sofas, his TV stand as well as his coffee table look like polished vintage items, refurbished from a flea market maybe, while his book shelf and rug are grand and modern. The best part of all though is a grand piano in an oak wood, matching the wood from his television table, and you become instantly entranced by the instrument that you don’t even notice the velvet stool or the perfectly organised cabinet of music, with a guitar propped up against it.

“Wow.” You breathe. Timothée grips you tighter, trailing kisses across your shoulder and up the side of your neck, inhaling every few seconds to treasure the scent of your perfume. Gardenia, rose champagne, grapefruit, davana; heavenly. You grip his hands with your own, holding them tightly where they’re settled on your tummy. You roll your head against his shoulder to give him better access to kiss you, but he stops abruptly and leads you to the piano stool. He opens the cabinet and pulls out a well loved piece of music.

“I know it’s for two pianos, but let's have some fun.” He says, grinning at you, an infectious smile that you can’t help but return. Hallelujah Junction, first movement. He puts the music out on the piano and takes a seat beside you, your thighs touching and hands overlapping as they begin to glide over the keys.

Playing this piece is second nature to you, allowing you to find your way easily, slipping your fingers between Timothée’s, and the white and black keys. You begin a harmonious melody spanning the whole of the piano, but after only a couple of pages, you realise that its not working as your notes cross over, making it very difficult to play on just one piano. You laugh together, but only for a moment before he is trailing his tongue up your neck, then your lips, and delving inside your mouth. You gasp, moaning into the passionate kiss that he’s giving you, and within seconds you find yourself straddling his lap on the piano stool. You trap his thighs between yours, moving and grinding your hips a little against his to receive more friction where you can feel how needy he is.

Within seconds, he has your legs wrapped around his waist and his teeth on your clavicle. The pleasure makes sounds escape your lips that you didn’t even realise were possible. You knot your ankles as he stands up with one hand around your waist and the other feeling his way around his apartment. After a few funny missteps and close calls of him dropping you while only walking the expanse of his living room, he pins you against his bedroom door, finding your lips again

He gently pokes at your dusty pink bottom lip with his tongue, slipping his tongue back into your mouth, exploring avidly and devouring every taste of you that he can muster. You do the same, but become too infatuated by his taste to put much more passion into it: gin, mint, bergamot and smoke. Smoke, sugar and sin, the most deadly combination of them all, and that's all you can smell on him, making you moan even louder. An erotic moan that makes Timothée twist open the handle to his bedroom door as quickly as is humanly possible.

He as good as throws you onto the bed, but undeniably, it turns you on a lot to see his dominant side this early on into the evening. He doesn't seem like the type to pin you down and boss you around, but as he shuts his bedroom door and delicately takes off his probably very expensive shoes, you can see a glint in his eye, almost as if he’s planning on doing unspeakably pleasurable things to you. Just the thought makes you wetter than before.

As he locks the door and shuts his shoes away, you take a quick look around the room. His bed is nice, comfortable and exquisitely large, like other things you hope. He has a nice colourful throw, vintage looking pillows to match his nightstand, holding only a pillbox, a glass of water, hand sanitiser, and a box of tissues. The simplicity makes you want to laugh, but you restrain yourself. He has a big dresser to match his bedside table with the drawers a little skewwhiff and clothes poking out. His wardrobe is fitted to the wall and by the looks of it, surprisingly neat too. That much cannot be said for his sofa though. A plush, light grey sofa sits on one side of his room just away from the window, and it's covered with clothes. At least he made the bed though, that's more than you can say for most 20-odd year old mans rooms that you’ve been into.

He sheds his blazer and crawls up to where he left you on the bed, needy and craving more. He looks down at you with desperation in his eyes, and you can’t help but to attack his lips, threading one hand in his beautiful dark curls while the other nimbly pulls open his tie and undoes his shirt. You shrug it off his shoulders and run your nails up and down his spine. You feel him shiver beneath his touch while your hands travel all over his body. His shoulders, his biceps, his toned stomach; he’s skinny, but has enough substance to him to be strong and sexy as hell.

“You’ll kill me if you stop.” He whispers, followed by a string of breathy curses. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving you ample opportunity to grasp his shoulders and slip the pair of you over, pinning him beneath you. His eyes flit all over your face before kissing you again.

“You are so freaking beautiful.” He mumbles between kisses. He slips his hands up to find the zip of your jumpsuit which he slides down crazily fast, only breaking the kiss to shrug it off your shoulders. He just lies in awe, noticing that you don’t have a bra on beneath it. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he examines every undulation of your body, following the swell of your breasts right down to your hips. Your nerves return under his scrutiny, making you want to hide your face, but instead he holds your wrists behind you.

“You never have to cover up,” he says, nothing more or less than genuine love in his eyes, “not for me.”

Despite only meeting him hours ago, you know that you can trust him, so you ungracefully clamber off his lap and lie on your back to shimmy off your burden of a jumpsuit. He practically leaps at the opportunity to worship your body, before him in only your panties. He starts at your ankle, placing feather light kisses all the way from your ankle, up your leg, not minding the slight harshness of your legs, and only stops at your knee joint to switch his lips to his tongue, licking a straight line all the way up your inner thigh, stopping centimetres from where you need him the most. Not through any of this ritual does he break eye contact though. He skips over your panties and only pulls them down a little to trail kisses from your pelvic bone, up past your navel, through the valley of your breasts, and finally back to your lips. He makes you feel things that you could only dream of before meeting him.

“Timothée…” you breathe, hearing his breath hitch in his throat at the way your tongue curls around his name.

You reach between the two of you to his trousers. You undo the belt buckle with ease and push his trousers off his hips and down his thin legs, allowing him to kick them off at the bottom. He seems embarrassed, wearing Y-fronts that make more visible just how much he wants you.

“How about we strip together?” You offer, and Timothée reluctantly nods. He pushes himself off of you and stands up, giving you a hand to stand up as well. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off you since the moment you left the concert hall. “3, 2, 1…”

You both remove your underwear, pushing them down your legs and stepping out of them, only to step closer together so that your chests are flush against one another. He moves his hand up to cup your face, brushing your hair away from your face while tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a lustful yet also sensual kiss.

He nudges you and your legs hit the bed, making you topple over and break the kiss from a giggle, but he doesn’t seem to mind and only laughs with you, moving your body further onto the mattress. He doesn't go to you again, he just lies beside you and dances his fingers absently down your pubic bone, ghosting circles around your clit.

“Jesus Christ.” You exclaim at the sudden feeling. Timothée kisses your jawline, but adds in between kisses, “Less of that, darling, I’m Jewish.”

You can’t help but laugh at him. You know he’s joking, just trying to mess with you, but as a punishment for laughing, he thrusts two fingers inside you with no warning, making you cry out in a mixture of both pain and overwhelming pleasure.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, never going deeper than the second knuckle even when you cry out for more. Only when your moans turn to gasps for breath and you’re writhing beneath him does he delve in further and add his thumb to your clit, giving you a more intense orgasm than you’ve ever had before.

You immediately feel blood rushing back to your cheeks, colouring them from embarrassment, but Timothée doesn’t mind. He removes his hand from your core, and makes sure your eyes are fixated on his every movement as he licks his hand clean of all your cum. You’re so turned on that you even reach for his own hand, interlacing all your fingers except for his index one, of which he takes the hint and slips it into your open mouth, allowing your tongue to curl around it, making him groan.

He slips further down the bed and locks his eyes onto yours, you can see different shades of green and hazel in them and a whole world locked behind those beautiful eyes. Slowly, he delves into your heat, licking up everything that his hands missed. His mouth works wonders, sending your mind into a state of mild euphoria. The tip of his nose nudges your clit and you can feel yourself involuntarily gasp, so when Timothée finishes savouring every taste of you that he can get, he harshly bites your sensitive clit for just a moment, stimulating parts of your mind and body that you didn’t know could feel pleasure, let alone pleasure that intense.

He comes back up and kisses your lips, planting his hands in your hair as you kiss him back and get lost in the moment, your tongues dance together in an exploration, an experimentation of passion.

You pull away after a minute or so, gasping for air. Timothée examines your face for a moment, and you find yourself once again losing your thoughts and sanity in his eyes, until you feel the tip of his throbbing cock brush against your bare thigh. You feel bad for how much he’s been neglecting his own levels of desire in order to pleasure you, so you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. He takes a sharp intake of breath and flutters his eyes closed, his long dark eyelashes twitching alongside his eyelids whenever you grasp harder or pump him.

He’s surprisingly big, causing you to take longer while rubbing your hand up and down his member. Half way down one thrust, you squeeze his cock a little, hearing him whimper a little. The mere sound of him drowns your core in want. You edge your way down the bed and swallow as much of his dick as you can take until his tip hits the back of your throat. He lets out the most sensual guttural groan that you’ve ever heard, his eyes still closed while placing his hand on the back of your head to keep you steady. You bring your head back up to look at him while your tongue swirls his tip, his mouth is parted a little with breathy moans of your name escaping every once in a while, his eyelids switching from being lazily half open to squeezed so tightly shut that they wrinkle a little.

You go back down slowly, inch by inch, hollowing your cheeks. You work your hand in the part of him that won’t fit in your mouth and continue to bob your head up and down. You lick a strip up a vein on the underside of his dick, making him near enough scream your name. With one final bob of your head where you deep throat him, you pull away with plump lips, climbing up his body to straddle his waist. He looks up at you with wide and loving eyes, pulling you down for a sensual kiss.

“Are you clean?” He asks breathlessly, kissing down the hickeys that he’s already littered your skin with.

“Yeah, i got tested after my last break up a few months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since. Is that because I just…” He nods and you laugh a little, the vibrations from his chuckle rumble throughout your body.

“I did the same, but I’ll still…” You get what he’s saying and climb off him. He flings open the top drawer of his bedside table and after a minute or so of rooting through it he pulls out a condom packet and places it next to his glass of water. You give him a questioning look with your brows knitted together, but Timothée just smiles at you. He slips one slim arm beneath your back and the other under your knee joint before scooping you up and holding you close to his chest.

“Well hey there Timothée.” You say with a chuckle, secretly astonished at how strong he is, because with one arm still holding you, he throws away the decorative pillows and pulls the duvet back, throwing you onto the mattress and leaping on top of you. You smile into his kiss, savouring every second of the feel of his lips pressed hotly against your own, the taste of smoke driving you crazy.

He pulls away and sits up, tearing open the condom packet and grasping his hand sanitiser. He flicks the lid open and squeezes it liberally onto his hands before applying it and rubbing it into yours. “Are you sure?” He asks you, and your urgent kiss to his jawline is followed by a string of fervent reassurances that you are desperate to have him inside you, though you respect that he wants consent and that he wants to be clean. He slips the condom on, his eyes trained on your lips and the way they part from wanting every few seconds. He’s enjoying torturing you and making you wait, the same way that you edged him but denied him orgasm.

He slips the condom on and slowly enters in one smooth stroke. You gasp at the contact, especially how deep he goes with the first thrust, so deep that his pubic bone hits your own. He reaches for the duvet and he pulls it up over his shoulders, covering the pair of you since he can see that you’re shivering a little in the open. He looks for reassurance, but then begins to thrust inside you, holding his weight above you. You can see his biceps tensing while trying to hold his weight up and keep a steady rhythm.

“How about we spice this up?” He suggests, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He cocks an eyebrow, and the sun hits his face at an angelic angle, only making him more beautiful. You nod eagerly to him, only making his smirk grow wider.

“Yes Mr Timothée,” you say, triggering a dominant smirk to relight behind those stunning eyes.

“That's Mr Chalamet to you tonight, Miss.” Words cannot even explain how wet he makes you by saying that, already making your mind want to submit to his every want. You let out a whimper and remove your hands from his hips to lay above your head on the pillows. He joins his fingers around your wrist and proceeds to lay his slender hand flat against your wrists, preventing you from moving.

“Is this okay?” He asks, his movements coming to a halt. You nod and kiss him again. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He must really enjoy what he’s doing to you. “Yes Mr Chalamet.” You reply, making your eyes as doe like and innocent as possible.

Timothée’s thrusts restart, faster this time. You moan louder, ecstasy filling every inch of your spent body before you’ve even properly begun. His moans are lower, more like groans, all of your name. It sounds heavenly coming from his lips, the way his mouth moves when he says your name just makes it better. His hips hit yours with vigour, adjusting to get a better position where he hits the best spot inside of you.

“There Timothée!” You scream desperately, your back arching on the mattress while your hands fight to break free. Submitting isn’t as easy as you hoped.

“I’m close.” He warns you and frees your wrists, but he doesn’t let your hand go too far. He interlocks his fingers with yours, using one elbow to prop himself up. His thrusts turn sloppy, more fervent, and just as he’s finishing, he digs his thumb into your clit.

Your entire body turns limp, screaming his name in a state of complete euphoria like you’ve never felt before. It travels from your brain to the tips of your fingers, setting a fire in your belly and making your toes curl. Your back arches so far off the bed that your chest becomes pressed against Timothée’s, your breasts moving in time with his breathing. You feel him come to his own climax, silencing his screams by kissing you with more passion than he has before.

You ride out your highs, but the level of pleasure illuminating every nerve ending in your body means that you don’t notice Timothée pulling out and disposing of the condom, you only notice when he flops down beside you on the bed and pulls you closer to his slightly sweaty body. You rest your head on his chest that seems to be glowing in the moonlight from the sheen of sweat. He absently plaits your hair, staring off into the distance. The faint thudding of his heart within his ribs comforts you, it's a little faster than would be normal, making you smile a little.

“How was that?” His hand grips around your shoulder even tighter, pulling you closer to his body. He seems content in simply holding you, maybe he just enjoys cuddling. “Wait, don’t answer that.” He corrects himself, his pupils dilating and his excellent, angelic body going rigid. You chuckle to yourself, drawing circles on his chest with the pad of your forefinger,

“Excellent, Mr Chalamet.” You tease him.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He looks fearful, fretting, it's evident in the sudden sulk of his face, pulling his cheeks and forehead down. You shake your head again, slowly but surely moving your leg to lie over his. Ye inclines his neck to place a gentle kiss to our hairline, and you can feel him smile into it.

“Timothée?”

“Yes beautiful?” Just his simple words make you giggle and blush, such a sweet sentiment from a gorgeous and well meaning man.

“I’m hungry.” You say, feeling slightly embarrassed. He laughs, you feel his body move from it, and he proceeds to pepper your face with the softest and sweetest kisses possible.

“I’ll make us some food, grab any shirt you want and meet me in the kitchen.”

You watch him pull on a pair of grey sweat pants and walk out. His pale hips sway just a little as he walks, and he looks so lanky from where you’re laying on his bed, the covers pulled up around your chest. He kissed your forehead before heading to the kitchen, what kind of a man does that on the first night? He’s a famous actor and the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, let alone a couple of years above yourself. He really knows how to please a girl, your skin rises in tiny goosebumps of pleasure while a shiver shoots down your spine and leaps across your synapses just at the mere thought of what he did to you, by far the best climax you’ve ever had.

You slowly slide out from under his warm, plush covers that smell just like him, only leaving with severe reluctance that melts away as soon as you shrug on the pale blue button down that he wore for the concert. Only a few hours ago you’d met at a concert for old people, already having a common interest that few your age have, yet he’s so eager about classical piano which is so special to you. You fiddle with the buttons, leaving the top few open in hopes of another round - he is making you an almost-midnight feast after all.

You walk out of his room and pad barefoot across his living room floor, only to have a little grey cat come and rub at your feet. You lean down to tickle behind its ears, hearing it meow, and you continue your way too where Timothée has left the kitchen door open for you. He’s standing over the stove with some ingredients laid out on the spotlessly clean countertops. You smile in spite of yourself, running a hand through your messy hair before wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. You place a couple of kisses to his shoulder blades until he turns around and picks you up in one swift movement, sitting you on the counter so that you meet his height.

“It looks better on you.” He whispers, pulling you closer by your bare thighs to plant a kiss on your lips. He’s making you feel things you’ve never experienced before, you can’t wipe the smile off your face for the first time in a while, and he's making you food in the middle of the night after cuddling you.

Dreamboat.

After watching him cook for a while, you slip out of his kitchen and take a seat at his piano. You run your fingers over the smooth wood, it’s well loved but well kept. Then you take a seat on the stool. You can feel where Timothée sits to play, your smile turning a little sad. There’s so much to him that people won’t see because he’s getting famous, but he’s still a person and that’s something that you’re able to experience first-hand.

Eyes closed, you feel for F and Ab with both of your hands. You press the keys down gently, creating the soft blend of notes that is Clair De Lune. You fall lost in the music in a new way, a new feeling washing you with all of tonight's new sensations and sitting at a piano that is neither your own nor at school, it feels somewhat ethereal.

Your fingers glide all across the keys, black to white, flats to sharps, switching between octaves like its second nature. Your mind dances along with the rhythm, your whole mind, soul and being becoming lost in the symphony that you’re creating, one that you haven’t been able to create for a while, and it’s only thanks to Timothée.

You become so absorbed in playing that you don’t notice him leaving the kitchen to listen. He just stands in the doorway, leaning against it with his head lolled a little to the side, completely mesmerised by your movements, your music, and just everything you are. Only when you play the final notes are you alerted of his presence from the creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet. He walks over to you with purpose, a slight grimace on his perfect lips, but he just hugs you. Timothée just holds you close to his chest, allowing you to entwine your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face in his bare chest.

“Stay the night?” He asks, such a simple request but he truly does seem anxious. You want to be genuine, kind, but it’ll be best to relieve the tension.

“You’re making me a late night post-sex feast and giving me your shirt, of course I’m staying the night.” After a moment of silence, he exhales a laugh and node, brushing a curl or two into his face. “Anyway, your cat likes me too, so it’d be a shame to disappoint the little cutie.”

After only a few minutes, you find yourself back in bed with Timothée. He’s carrying a tray full of food that looks and smells gorgeous, followed by his cat who decides to dance between his legs. He serves you a strangely shaped piece of an odd looking pizza, though it still looks excellent, and it has some perfectly cooked and seasoned vegetables next to it on a white plate.

“What is this?” You ask him as kindly as possible.

“Flammekueche with some vegetables. It’s a French pizza with crème fraiche and bacon. My dad makes it all the time and always gives me some that I just freeze and reheat. I can only make microwave meals and vegetables, so this isn’t bad for me.” The way he explains it makes him so endearing, and even makes the food seem more than enticing. “You’re not allergic to anything are you? Or vegetarian?” You shake your head with a smile, kissing him and thanking him for the meal even though he won’t let you touch it before you sanitise your hands.

You talk the whole while that you eat, learning little things about his favourite books and his family. His favourite book just happens to be Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald, a book you both know and love, and Timothee has a Jewish mother, a French father, an older sister, and he grew up in the city. You however are from out of the city with an exceptionally normal family, and your favourite book is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. He seems to be growing fond of you, wiping the pizza sauce from your lip, followed by a kiss each time.

He places your plates on the floor as soon as you finish, snatching at the speed of light for some hand sanitiser, lube and another condom. You more than happily oblige with all of his steps and strip off his shirt, kissing the living daylights out of him before he’s even slotted the condom on. He kisses you back with equal fervour nonetheless, exploring your whole mouth with the tip of his tongue. He cautiously adds some lube to the sides of the condom and slips into you while you’re still atop him. You moan at the penetration, arching your body forwards and hereby giving Timothée a full view of your breasts and the way they bounce with his every thrust inside you.

You moan pornographically at his slow and passionate movements upwards and deep inside you, finding your special spot within moments. He settles his hands upon your hips, squeezing them and guiding your every movement. You ride him just the way he wants you to, you can see it in his eyes. He looks at you like a teenage boy would at a naked supermodel, of which you are only naked and most definitely not a supermodel, despite him treating you like one, and Timothée is thankfully older than a teenage boy yearning for sex.

“You look so fucking brilliant.” He tells you, admiring the way that your face contorts with pleasure while taking every inch of him.

You rhythmically grind your hips against him, swirling them occasionally just to hear him cry out. Nothing is a hinderance from you going faster, but this sex isn’t needing to be urgent to be satisfying. He squeezes your hips harder and you decides to move up a little further, bouncing back down on him as he becomes buried to the hilt in your desperate core. You do it again, engulfing him anew and moaning his name continually from the mix of friction and pleasure that’s sending you into another euphoria, but not enough to release again just yet.

Timothée still hasn’t taken his eyes off you, namely your breasts where he’s currently focussed, eyes trained on your hardened nipples - partly from not wearing a shirt and partly from Timothée’s ministrations. He leans up and captures your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and kissing and swirling his tongue around you in the most divine way possible. He moves his hands away from your hips too, allowing you to grind your hips on his in any way that you like. His one hand moves to your other breast, tweaking and pulling at your right peak and sending sensations through your body that you’d never realised could be real before; while his other slips to the rounds of your ass, squeezing delectably.

“Mr Chalamet, p-please,” you find yourself begging, leaning down while still riding him, his torture on your breasts never ceasing, not even when he thrusts his hips up one final time, allowing your core to devour him whole and sending you into your third otherworldly climax of the night.

“Timothée!” You scream, your climax pouring out of you. You feel him come too, and you hear him cry out your name like a blessing.

He doesn’t pressure you, he just waits until you’re able to clamber off him with as minimal pain and exhaustion as possible, though you do whine at the loss of contact as you lie beside him, his arms securely around you and holding you as close to him as possible. It doesn’t matter that you’re both sweaty or spent, it just feels special.

“Look at that, done before 1am.” He chides, cuddling into you. You laugh a little at him, especially his humour, but it is rather remarkable.

“Two rounds, a meal, and a concert. Can’t speak for you, but I’m knackered.” He smiles at you sleepily, passing you the shirt that you wore earlier. You shrug it on and do it up while Timothée puts his joggers back on and draws the curtains, leaving the two of you in dark for the most part. You lie further down, still close to his thin chest, you hear his breathing rattle a little, but it's soothing.

“Night beautiful.” Is the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The only issue about sleeping with Timothée is that you forget it's a Saturday morning, and on Saturdays, you have to work. Your phone alarm starts to go off at 7.15 precisely, which when you’re home, gives you enough chance to get ready for teaching in a calm manner so that you aren’t already angry before teaching little children how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Today however, that is not the case.

Timothée sleeps through it somehow, but your eyes are shocked wide awake, causing you to leap from the comfort and warmth of his bed and cuddles just to crawl on the floor in search of your phone and where it fell last night. You find it next to his door somehow, and switch the alarm off immediately, propping yourself up against the door to release a long held breath and to watch the sun rise through his windows. He looks so beautiful asleep, his lips parted slightly, soft snores escaping every so often, dark eyebrows furrowed and his mop of curls haphazardly lying around him like a halo. The morning glow makes his cheekbones appear even more defined.

You want to gather your belongings without waking him, get dressed and catch a cab back to your flat, but just as you go to open his door, he stirs.

“Where do you think you’re going beautiful? Come back to bed, I’m keeping you here with me forever.” You know he’s joking, and his words melt your heart and inhibitions a little, but you can’t justify staying

“I have to work, my first student is at 9.30.” You say, walking across to stand beside his bed and brush some hair off his forehead, kissing him and your lips lingering on his sweaty skin a little longer than they probably should have.

“And? I’ll drive you home in time, if you live near Juilliard then I know a shortcut. Just come back.” He's virtually pleading, puppy eyes and quivering lip just to add to the effect, and you simply can’t say no when he looks so perfect. You place your things on the floor by the bed and slip beside him, allowing your eyes to flutter shut just a moment longer.

His finger traces your naked body beneath the shirt, focussing on the bruises he left on your hips and the marks on your neck. Just his touch is enough to take control of your body, to give you goosebumps, to electrify every feeling of love and lust held within.

“Can I use your shower please?” You ask him, and he nods, placing his chin atop your head.

“I’ll take you to my bathroom and then I’ll make you breakfast. Grab whatever clothing you want from my room, but you can’t leave this bed until you agree to dinner with me tonight.”

Your heart rate increases tenfold at his gesture, and you want to take a leap of faith and say yes straight away, but that would be playing your cards too quickly. “We’ll see.” You respond sultrily, making your way to leave, but his strong grip pulls you flush against him with no space to move. You can hear him laughing in your ear.

“Say yes to dinner and then you can leave.” He slips his hands further down your front without losing his grip and decides to toy with your clit as though it’ll get you to talk.

“Y-yes! God, Timothée, of course I’ll go to dinner with you, just don’t stop!” You find it impossible to understand the shockwaves of pleasure pulsating and electrifying your every sense from an action as simple as the pads of his fore and middle fingers twisting and pressing your sensitive clit. It’s so incredible that after the previous night, it feels like overstimulation, and you can’t get enough.

“I’ll never stop.” He murmurs gruffly into your ear, you can hear the hoarseness that smoking causes but god it sounds and tastes so good.

He pulls your body closer and rolls you over. “Hey baby.” You say as calmly as you can, but within seconds you find yourself sitting on his face, half of his stunning bone structure lost beneath you. He delves his tongue into your already dripping heat, licking as far as he can get and only pulling away to kiss and suckle at your clit.

“Let me come Mr Chalamet!” You cry out, and with one final swipe of his tongue around your core and a squeeze of your ass, you let go. Timothée licks you clean while you still chant his name, and he proceeds to pick you up in order to carry you to the bathroom. You settle your heels at the base of his spine, digging in a little, and his arms tense beneath your ass from the manner he carries you. You like being above him, able to trace every line and bit of stubble on his face with your focussed eyes that he stares so deeply into at any given chance.

“Don’t be too long or I’ll be tempted to join you.”

You slowly cross the threshold of the bathroom, winking at him as you close the door. He inaudibly groans, but you can tell from his facial expression and the tension in his joggers that make him look utterly sexy. You slowly unbutton his shirt, reluctant to take it off, but when you step under the warm jet of his shower, that reluctance washes away along with any inhibitions you may have had about Timothée. He’s an angel: clean, respectful, enjoys classical music, has a cat, isn’t a cocky dickhead, and he’s literally the most gorgeous human being that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

You run your fingers through your hair, standing directly beneath his showerhead. The steam clouds your vision, but you can hear Timothée singing while he cooks, Mystery of Love. What a dork, you think, chuckling to yourself while you rinse Tim’s shower gel from your body, and you just know that after this you’ll smell like him, but he smells delectable. As the water hits the most sensitive parts of your body, you remember the previous night. Just the thought of what he did to you makes you crave his touch again.

Through the bathroom window, you can make out the New York traffic that builds every morning, accompanied by the screeching of tires and sirens and car horns. Despite it being a ruckus, it's soothing as you step out the shower and wrap yourself in one of Timothée’s fluffy towels.

“How do you look so sexy when you’re getting out of the shower? God, I can't stress it enough, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen in my life, even without any makeup and with your hair un-styled, just wrapped in my Goddamn towel. You’re gonna be mine, mark my words.” You feel tears come to your eyes at his kind words, watching him purposefully walk from the kitchen and all the way across his apartment just to place his hands on your waist and tell you how beautiful you are. Those words are better than a concerto to you.

Once you’ve finished getting dry in his bedroom, you ferret through his drawers until you pull out a white top with various tie dye patterns across it. It’s cute, very Timothée. You pull it on and it reaches your mid thighs, making it clock in your head just how much of a lanky lad he is. You bundle together your stuff and head out of his room, closing the door behind you and greeting him with a kiss. He sits you at the breakfast bar and serves you a proper cooked breakfast: bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes.

“There's ketchup and syrup in the cupboard if you’d like.” He offers, sidling up on the seat beside you, nudging the tip of your nose with his thumb. The smile hasn’t left your face since you met him.

“This is good, you’re an excellent cook.” You tell him, resting your hand on his. His cheeks glow an even brighter red in the cascading morning sunlight, dappled by his blinds, but he looks magnificent despite his embarrassment.

You take out your phone, just to take a picture of the breakfast while it’s still untouched, and of your hand held by Timothée’s, already wearing rings. You notice that he’s already wearing a silver chain too, and a couple of bracelets on the wrist away from your own, which you find unusually attractive.

“I wish you could stay all day.” he whispers, placing his forehead on yours.

“Me too.” you say softly, smiling sadly and caressing his cheek.

You finish your breakfast and make your way to the living room in a strange kind of waltz orchestrated by Timothée. He insists on holding your waist and turning around a little, moving your feet in sync until you yank him down onto the sofa, catching his lips mid sigh which leads to a much more passionate make out session than you anticipated. Once that’s over, he plaits your hair beautifully, explaining how it used to calm his sister down before an audition. By the time he’s finished a very good pair of plaits, you check the time and it’s already 9, time for you to leave with NYC traffic, but Tim won’t let you go.

“Not without a photo.” He insists, but you question his reasons. Who would want a photo of you with wet hair in plaits, an oversized tee-shirt and a bare face? But his answer is too sweet to refuse. “I like taking pictures of beautiful things, and of which, you are the most beautiful.” Your cheeks flush a raging scarlet, and Timothée takes your few moments of silence as the perfect opportunity to take a picture of you, sunlight hitting your face in all the right places, and he takes another for good measure, his hand on your cheek and his lips on yours, a kiss that shuts you up for good.

He takes you down the stairs right to the garage where he keeps his car, and surprisingly, it’s an understated car, not crazily extortionate nor flashy, something which you respect highly. He sits you in the passenger side, making sure to kiss you before closing the door, and he gets in the driver's side. After starting the engine and leaving the parking lot, he lays his palm flat against your thigh and keeps it there the whole drive while you change gears for him. You tell him all about your childhood, your high school, your time in uni while he tells you his life at a performing arts high school and then his life as an actor, he truly fascinates you.

Once he pulls up outside your building, he tries to convince you to let him come in, or at least walk you to your door, but on the grounds of not scaring the life out of your neighbours and students, you say no with a promise to see him later.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight that you won’t be able to walk.” He says, pulling you in for a final passionate kiss before you step out of the car. He made you wet just before you have to work, you’ll get him back later, but the revenge melts as soon as he leans out the window to blow you a kiss and tell you how stunning you are.

You’re so lost in your trance of Timothée that you don’t notice your first student tapping you on the shoulder and excitedly saying “Was that the Timothée Chalamet?”

You chuckle to yourself, watching him drive off into traffic, all for you. “Yes it was love, yes it was.”

[doublekrecs]

Going Live

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: You're an intern for the FBI but double as a camgirl in your spare time. You thought you kept things pretty well under wraps but who knew one of your mentors watched you all along. 

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v action (remember to wrap it), face fucking, use of sex toys, tiny bit of degrading

a/n: writing this in the setting of season 10/11 because spencer looks so damn good and i wanted to include my girl tara

also part 2 of more than physics should be up later today! hope you enjoy -🧞‍♀️

You had been a paid intern for the FBI for about a year, paid being said lightly. But the job was definitely worth it. While being under the wing of the BAU you had not only learned so much about your hopefully future profession, but you had made a family with the team. Especially under the wing of Tara Lewis, she had been there for a little while but you looked up to her work and she was more than happy to offer advice and a good wine night.

The team knew you had a second job on the side but weren’t exactly sure what it was, just that you worked from home. They respected your personal life enough to stay out of it, however that didn’t stop Rossi from offering you a little extra because “that's what uncles are supposed to do”. You would always wave him off and say you could handle yourself, because you could. 

You thoroughly enjoyed working. The money and gifts were obviously a big reward but there was always something so exciting about being on camera. Maybe it was how risque it was, being exposed for thousands to see. Or the fact that many were pleasuring themselves to the sight of you.

It was Friday night and you were getting your setup ready. You already had your outfit and glam on. Someone had sent you a set from your wishlist, lilac lace hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all your assets and boosting your confidence. In your hair were the same color streaks you did with a tinting spray. You set the camera and laptop up in front of your bed. Silk sheets and plush pillows behind you where you could rest comfortably before your show started. 

Little did you know across town Spencer Reid was getting ready to tune in to said show. He was never one for tech, having Garcia still hand him paper files and would refuse to upgrade his phone. He had gotten a computer just so he could video chat with doctors quickly about new medicine for his mother. However he quickly found out there was so much more the internet had to offer.

_

He had stumbled across your show one lonely night. Spencer couldn’t see himself going out to find a one night stand so the pleasure of his hand it was. He was looking through videos when he saw the thumbnail with a girl wearing glasses similar to the ones you wear when you forget contacts. His curiosity got the best of him and if he was a cat he’d be one life down. He couldn’t believe the sight on the screen in his lap. 

There you were the bubbly intern, body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you from the pink wand you held over your clit. He was delightfully flustered and the moans spilling from the computer’s speakers weren’t doing much to help.

He was entranced by you writhing in pleasure but was knocked back into reality after hearing you giggle. God he loved when you made that noise in the office, usually after fake flirting with Hotch or hearing about JJ’s boys. But this situation was totally different and if he was honest with himself he was very into it. 

You reached over to grab a large pink dildo. Taking it in your mouth before swiping it through your folds. It easily slipped in and you started rapidly pumping it into you chasing your orgasm. 

Spencer was too enthralled to even think about touching himself. He was using the gift which was his eidetic memory to the best of his ability to make this something he’d never forget. 

You came with a loud moan, hips lifting and grinding against the toy to chase the friction. Quickly you turned off the wand and took the toy out. You sat up and looked into the camera before sucking it off. Spencer's eyes widened as he let out a groan shifting on his bed. 

“Alright guys that was fun for tonight,” you said as you sat criss cross on the bed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get to five.”

FIVE?? He thought in his head. He felt like he was gonna explode just watching those last few minutes. How was he supposed to last watching you make yourself cum five times. 

“Thank you so much for all the tips and support! My links are all in the description and I’ll see you angels next Friday! Muahh” you signed off blowing the camera a kiss. 

Spencer knew it was wrong of him to view a coworker in such an exposed light but he couldn’t help himself. So he spent the night viewing some of your old videos which brought him to what he swears to be the best orgasm of his life. Of course he sent gracious tips and made sure to buy little items off the wishlist, mentally noting to return every Friday night. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom from Morgan in their shared hotel room on cases. That was two months ago. 

_

Just as you finished your session the phone rang signaling a case. Quickly you got in the shower and put on comfy business clothes since you usually stayed with Garcia doing extra research and taking notes. You quickly grabbed your bag and keys, making your way straight to the office. 

In the elevator you heard someone calling to keep it open. Spencer made his way in, buttoning his cardigan and adjusting his bag, quickly saying thank you. You pressed the button to the floor as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking over Spencer was eyeing you with a confused look on his face. You were about to question him when he spoke up first. 

“I thought you had streaks in your hair”

“I did… Earlier tonight but they washed out.” He looked even more confused, then his brain put two and two together. He just realized what he had said. For a genius this wasn’t one of his brightest moments. 

You looked at him amused as a deep blush spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. There was only one way someone would know about your quick hair change: by watching your show. The door to the elevator opened and you walked out giggling as he started sputtering apologies behind you. You quickly cut him off. 

“Spence, it's alright. If you want we can talk about this later because right now you have a bad guy to catch. But may I suggest making your name something less obvious, not that I don’t love ‘magiclover187’.” He stood there mouth gaping as you patted his shoulder and walked up to the conference room to meet the rest of the team. 

_

The case was one of the easier ones. Very minimal killing and the team was back by Tuesday morning, ready for a week of paperwork. Spencer had been dancing around you the whole time, he could barely keep eye contact with you and would rush to leave the room if you walked in. If he was this flushed around you with clothes on you could just imagine how much of a mess he would be when he watched you perform. Which brought an idea to your head. 

Friday rolled around and you walked over to his desk where he was nose deep in one of his Russian books. You put your hand in it to bring it down. Once he noticed it was you he was about to start with another ramble of apologies when you stopped him.

“Alright I’m tired of the awkwardness and I want my friend back,” you said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can have that talk. I’ll even order a pizza and we can watch Doctor Who.”

“Y/n are you sure? I-I mean it is um uh Friday.. And ya know you usually film,” he said as he played with his tie. 

You giggled at how nervous he was. Poor little genius didn’t know he was the only one with tricks up their sleeve. 

“It’s fine I promise. Just a night with my favorite customer,” you said winking at him. He choked and looked around to see if anyone was looking at his outburst.

“I’m kidding.. Sort of,” you trailed off. “But I mean it about you coming over. I’m going home now but I expect you there in an hour with drinks.”

With that you turned around and walked off, adding a little extra sway to your hips. Obviously that did the trick as you heard a small groan behind you. Spencer dropped his head back as he started wracking his brain to figure out how to live through the night without making a bigger fool of himself or cuming in his pants. 

_

You know maybe you were evil, you thought to yourself as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit for the night. Once you got home you sped into the shower to freshen up for him to come over and get your setup ready. You were wearing a cream colored strappy bodysuit. Over it was a large cardigan, almost resembling the maroon one he owned, strange. To top it off you were wearing your glasses and your legs were adorned with your favorite thigh high socks. 

The three knocks on the door instantly made a smirk appear on your face. This might just be one of your best schemes yet. Looking through the peephole you saw Spencer gnawing on his bottom lip holding a few bottles of soda. Taking a deep breath you opened the door greeting him with all the casualty in the world. 

“Hey! I’m glad you came, come in.”

He followed you in and tried to keep his eyes above your neck, trying to act like he wasn’t getting completely hard by just your outfit.  You sat down on your couch and patted it for him to sit next to you. He took the seat and gulped not really sure what you had planned. 

“Um how long for the pizza to get here?” 

“The pizza’s not coming Spence,” you said shaking your head. “But you are.”

You leaned forward to place your hand on his on the couch. “I want you to fuck me on camera Spencer,” you said with sweet confidence, fluttering your lashes. His eyes kept flashing between your cleavage showing through the cardigan and your lips before finally landing on your eyes. He didn’t see a single hint of humor in them, nothing transparent but lust. 

He pulled his hand from under yours to place in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss. You pushed back on his chest a bit to try and get some air. 

“Save that magic for the show,” you said as you pulled him up to lead to your bedroom. 

The camera was set at a little bit of a lower angle. The audience would just be able to see you and at most Spencer’s chest. You had made sure it was fine and even turned it on as a test so he could see what he looked like. After you got everything out of the way you hit the button to go live and instantly people started flooding in. If the bulge in his pants told you anything, it was that he was excited to be on the other side of the screen this time. 

“Hello my angels!” you said into the camera, Spencer was taken back at what was going on. After months of lusting over the young intern he was finally seeing the show in person. 

“Today I have a special guest with me. My very good friend, the Doctor,” you took his hand to pull him into frame. “He’s very excited to be here,” you said, hand moving down to palm him through his pants. 

His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him. Huh. This was a new Spencer you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

“Let's not play games princess. Or else the only thing making you cum tonight are your pathetic little fingers. Am I clear?”

You shivered at the intensity of his voice instantly trying to nod the best you could within his grip. He let go and you went back to task at hand, undoing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He was long and pink. Precum already spilling out of the pretty tip, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth, among other places. You wasted no time in licking a broad stripe along a vein under it. His hand went to grab a handful of your hair giving it a testing tug as a warning to stop teasing. 

Your hand went to grip what couldn’t fit in your mouth but you tried your best to take him all in. You could hear the pings of tips and comments being said. Spencer could too and leaned over slightly to read them. 

“Face fuck her,” he murmured. He pulled you off of his cock and looked down into your eyes, “Is that what you want princess? Hm.” His thumb went to clean up the spit dripping down your chin before rubbing your lips. “You want me to fuck your face?”, he said in a condescendingly sweet voice. 

“Yes Doctor please! Fuck my throat.” 

“Good girl.”

Both his hands made their place nested in your hair, guiding you to his cock. He wasted no time in being brutal. Tears were leaking down your cheeks as he kept on hitting the back of your throat. Spencer was enjoying himself to the fullest letting out curses and praises at how good your mouth felt. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you could feel it too as he started to throb in your mouth. He then pulled you off, a trail of spit connected from your lips and his cock. 

“Such a dirty whore for me. Show everyone how messy I make you,” he took your head and made you turn to look in the camera. Comments pinged talking about how pretty you looked with mascara running and smudged lipstick. 

“Thank them and ask if you deserve to cum on my cock,” Who knew Spencer had this in him. But you were loving every second of it and put on your best pair of puppy dog eyes to beg the camera for Spencer to split you in half. And you had no shame in doing so. 

“Please let the Doctor fuck me. I’ve been such a good girl for you guys,” you pleaded into the camera. The audience was pleased with your begging as they said you deserved it for being so good. 

Spencer took his time in unbuttoning the cardigan you had on, teasingly rubbing your arms as he slipped it off. His hands then went to the bodice of it, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric. 

“Ah shit doctor, please fuck me already.”

Who was he to deny you of such a thing when you asked so nicely. He pushed you back down on the silk sheets. Pulling you by your thighs to the end of the bed where he moved the thong of the bodysuit to the side and slid his cock up your folds. Lubricating it in your juices before slipping right in. You both gasped at the intrusion, his hands grabbing your hips with a force sure to leave bruises. He used the leverage to set a brutal pace, ramming his cock into you. 

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure but you could hear the constant pings of your tip box and comment section flooding. 

“Shit baby you’re so tight. Perfect little pussy squeezing me so good.” You babled off thank yous and whimpers from being so close to your climax.

 You felt Spencer stop for a second and reach over to grab something. Then you felt it. Your wand set to the highest setting placed on your clit as he started to thrust into you again. Sounds of your moans and skin slapping together filled the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator. You were sure there was going to be a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. 

You were so close to having the bubble in your stomach burst and so was he. 

“I'm gonna cum Doctor,” you practically yelled. “Please cum inside me!”

“Cmon princess. Let me feel you let go.”

With that the knot broke and you swore you died and went to heaven. Your walls squeezing Spencer led him to his end a little after you. Thrusts faltering and groaning at the feeling of pleasure washing over him. He turned off the wand and put it to the side before slipping out of you. 

Looking into the camera you gasped at your appearance. Hair disheveled and face messy from crying in pleasure multiple times that night. Your mixed release leaking down your thigh and onto the sheets. 

There were non stop pings of people calling Spencer a lucky bastard and asking for him to come back next Friday. Spencer nodded his head over to your bathroom to get you guys something to clean up with and let you do your closing. 

“Thanks for the love tonight angels,” you said with a smile on your face, entirely blissed out. “As always the links are in the description and I’ll see you guys next Friday. Maybe I’ll talk to the Doctor about future appearances. Bye!” 

With that you fell back on your bed and closed your eyes. Your body jolted at a sudden coldness between your thighs. 

“Right sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“So where did that come from?” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he stated seriously. 

You giggled and took his hand, “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. Now why don’t you shower while I get us a pizza. For real this time.”

“Or we can shower together then call the pizza.”

He contemplated it before smiling at you, “You always have the best ideas.” 

“Don’t I know it.. Doctor.”

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

part 15

masterlist

Hello, my darlings! Here’s an update for you! I’m off to work on the next part of WTCAD! and just a reminder that @chimchimsauce​ released her new book this week. Don’t forget to check it out, you can find the link in on her page. love you all!--- chaotic puff

If anyone at Jin hit Entertainment had been asked if Min Yoongi was a family man, they would have said no. Min Yoongi was a terror, a quiet one but a terror none-the-less. He was focused, driven, extremely talented, and a famous grouch. A family man was not a description anyone would have associated with him, and yet Kim Seokjin was looking at a nervous manager who was bringing forward some odd requests that the famous rapper had made. The requests included the acquisition of an apartment building and to bring him listings for modernized hanok houses in Seoul. To make this odd business even more strange, Yoongi had asked that they look into primary schools as well. Jin could understand why the poor man was confused and concerned. It was very unlike Yoongi, which was why the young CEO was on his way to talk to the artist 

The problem was to talk to the artist, he had to interrupt dance practice for the new mv, and something about interrupting Yoongi while he was holding a sword was extremely unappealing, but it had to be done. Someone had to ask about the odd requests. Jin was sure that there was some sort of perfectly reasonable explanation, and then they could all move on with their lives. 

“Hey, Yoongi!” Jin called walking into the practice room, only to be met with a dark glare from the man who was quite literally holding a sword. 

“What?” he growled incredibly displeased by the interruption. 

He was moving Y/N into her new apartment today, and Yoongi wanted to be there to help her get settled. She had insisted on doing all of the packing herself, and he knew she was back from classes already and probably hard at work packing up her small apartment. He trusted Jackson with her. He knew he would help her pack up, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted to be the one to help her. He wanted to finish practice and get out of there as quickly as possible. If he couldn’t help her pack up the old apartment, he could still help her settle into the new one. And flowers, he was going to bring her flowers. She would enjoy that. But Jin wasn’t helping any of these plans come together any faster with his interruptions. 

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“No.” Yoongi grunted, brushing back his hair as he glared at his hyung. 

“It’ll just take a minute.” Jin continued on cheerily even though Yoongi was giving him a look that would have sent anyone else cowering. Yoongi sighed, setting the sword aside and going to get a drink of water as he waited for Jin to get to the point. “So one of the managers came to me saying you’d been making some odd requests.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. It’s not like you to buy an apartment building, and you’re looking for a house, schools? What’s going on, Yoongi?” 

“She has a kid.” Yoongi grunted, flopping down onto the floor for a break while Jin stared at him as though he’d suddenly grown a second head. 

“Who has a what now?” 

“Y/N, she has a kid.” he repeated. “Toddler. Cute little bugger.” 

“She has… a child?” Jin repeated pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he tried to take in the new information. “Did you know about the kid?” 

“Found out on Saturday.” the other man shrugged, seeming remarkably unbothered especially considering the magnitude of what he’d just said. 

“And you’re buying a whole apartment building and a house because?” 

“Kid’s dad is harassing her.” 

“Okay?” Jin didn’t want to push too hard, but getting information out of the rapper could be like pulling teeth. 

“She needs a safe place to go, her and the kid.” 

“So you bought an apartment building?” Yoongi nodded. “Then what’s the house for?” 

“House is for her and the kid.”

“You said the apartment was for them.” 

“House is for all of us. Eventually.” 

Jin was dumbstruck as the implication of those words hit him with full force. Min Yoongi, the surliest son of a bitch he knew, had a family. He’d taken a sugar baby, and suddenly he had a whole family. He’d accepted another man’s child to the point he was planning a future around the kid and his mom. 

“That’s…” 

“It’s not hers.” Yoongi grunted seeing the older man’s head about to burst. “Not biologically. It’s her nephew, but he’s hers now.”

That made a little more sense to Jin. “And the birth dad is harassing them?” 

“Showed up at the park by her house without notice. Really freaked her out.” 

“She didn’t tell you about the kid?” Jin asked, sliding down next to Yoongi. He needed to sit if he was going to have this conversation. 

“She took the job to take care of him. Her family’s not in a good way.” Yoongi explained, taking another drink of water. “She was trying to protect the kid.” 

“And you’re okay with this?” 

Yoongi shrugged, thinking fondly on his angel and their kid. “She’s a good mom, and he’s a good kid.” 

Jin nodded along, still trying to wrap his mind around this. “And the kid actually likes you?” 

Yoongi scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. As soon as the kid had decided that he was fine, the kid had been absolutely fascinated by him. It was painfully clear to both him and Y/N that the kid didn’t have a lot of men in his life. That was fine though. He had Yoongi now.

 “Why wouldn’t he like me?” 

“Cause you’re a grump?” Jin suggested, playfully bumping the other man’s shoulder. “Got a picture.” 

Yoongi looked at him in surprise, but he grabbed his phone pulling up a picture of Y/N and Eun Jae he had snapped on Sunday afternoon when the pair had fallen asleep on the couch for an afternoon nap after Eun Jae had run them both ragged around the penthouse playing princesses and dragons all afternoon. Eun Jae had been the brave night protecting the princess, and Yoongi had been made to be the dragon trying to steal Y/N away from her protector. Eventually the little guy had worn himself out, and the family had settled on the couch for a snack and an afternoon cartoon, before both mother and son had drifted off. Yoongi hadn’t been able to resist snapping a picture of his small family. 

“He’s a cute kid.” Jin smiled, handing the phone back to him. It was odd to see Yoongi with a family, but even if the indicators were subtle, Yoongi seemed happy. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi agreed. “He looks like his mom.” 

“So the house and looking at schools and everything, it’s all for them?”  Yoongi nodded. “Alright then.” Jin clapped, nodding resolutely. “That clears things up. When do they move into the apartment? And when do the guys and I get to meet the little guy?” 

“Y/N moves into the new apartment today. Eun Jae is going to be with her grandmother till Friday, and you idiots don’t get to meet him.” 

“What!” Jin squawked , highly offended. “Why not? We’d be awesome uncles!”

Yoongi growled under his breath. “She’s skittish about the kid, and I won’t have you idiots freaking her out.” 

“Freak her out! How could I freak her out? I’m world wide handsome, you know? And I’m great with kids!”

“Not the point, Jin.” 

“I wouldn’t freak her out!”

“She has every right to be skittish, and I get more time with my kid before you idiots start crowding in.” He huffed, bopping the other man over the head with the empty water bottle. 

“Alright, alright.” The CEO surrendered. “Congrats, man. You seem happy.” 

“I am.” 

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. Go help your girl get set up in that fancy building you bought for her.” 

Yoongi nodded gratefully as the older man got up from the floor complaining about old bones. He was more than ready to get out of JinHit and go see his angel. He had all sorts of surprises ready for her at the new place, some he could show her and some he couldn’t.

He had the apartment furnished for her, getting some better quality appliances and furnishings for her. His family could only have the best after all. He’d even had the kitchen stocked in preparation for the move. He’d gotten a bunch of new toys and things for the kid too.

 Those were all things that he was excited to show her, but he knew better than to tell her that he owned the building, or that he had her entire security team living in the building as well. He knew what she’d say about that. She’d argue that it was too much, that it was unneeded, but he didn’t want to take any chances with her safety or Eun Jae’s. He even had a guard keeping an eye on the kid while he was at the grandmother’s. She’d certainly have something to say about that, but she didn’t need to worry over that. Their safety was his concern now, and he’d do whatever it took to protect his angel and their kid. 

With Jin letting him leave early, Yoongi was more than ready to go see his angel. He needed a shower first, but then he was free to go help her settle in. A quick text from Jackson had told him that she was already at the new building. A text from one of the bodyguards he’d hired to look after her had told him that Kim Taehyung had also been trying to keep an eye on her- trying and failing. Yoongi wasn’t about to let him get close to his family, especially not when his relationship with his kid was still so fragile. He hadn’t even known there was a kid in the equation till a few days ago, and he didn’t need the sperm donor showing up and confusing Eun Jae on who his father was.  For now, the little boy was safe with his grandmother, who Yoongi had been reliably told was a battle axe of a woman who wouldn’t be letting any strangers or anyone from the Kim family anywhere near that little boy. 

Yoongi got to the apartment to find Y/N preoccupied stringing up a set of bumble bee lights around the living room. He’d ordered a ton of stuff for the apartment, all things that he thought would be warm and comforting for her and the kid. It was colorful and bright, and ten times better than her old apartment. It had enough space for Eun Jae to play and for Y/N to do her schoolwork all while being within the safety of a building that Yoongi owned and staffed. The front desk had been given Taehyung’s photo with strict instructions not to allow him into the building. He wasn’t getting near either of them so long as Yoongi had anything to say about it. 

“Miss, you should really let me.” Jackson fretted hovering around Y/N as she put the lights up, making sure she didn’t fall. 

“I’m fine, Jackson.” she rolled her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of  putting up some lights.” 

“You could fall!” Guessing from the harried voice of his employee, Yoongi could guess that this wasn’t the first time that Y/N had refused to let him help today. 

“I let you put up the paintings!” 

“The paintings were already here when you got here!” 

“Eh.” she shrugged. “Someone who wasn’t me put them up.” 

“Babe,” Yoongi called, startling both of them and accidentally causing her to lose her balance on the sofa as she spun around, but Jackson was quick to catch her and equally quick to set her down again and excuse himself. 

“I wasn’t expecting you.” she muttered, shuffling from foot to foot. 

“Wanted to help you move in.” he smiled, stepping forward to place a quick, soft kiss to her forehead. “How do you like the place?”

“It’s too much. We really didn’t need something this…” 

“You did.”  he cut her off, holding out the bouquet of hydrangeas. 

“They’re lovely.” she smiled, a little tiredly, but it had been a busy day for her. “Let me get these in some water. I assume that’s what the vases are for?” He smirked following after her as she moved around the apartment. “You didn’t have to furnish it. You’ve already done so much for us, more than what we agreed upon.” 

“I wanted to,” he shrugged. “Besides, we need to renegotiate the terms of the contract anyway.” 

She turned to him with wide eyes, clearly nervous by the thought of renegotiations. “Nothing bad. Eun Jae puts a new light on things. I want to make sure that you and he have everything you need, give you both some more security.” he assured her. 

“You’ve already…”

“It’s not up for discussion, angel.” her mouth clicked shut immediately as she nodded. “Don’t look so grim, babe.” he laughed, tipping her chin up. “It’s just a few little things to take Eun Jae into account.” 

“He likes you.” she sighed, letting her sling an arm over her shoulder and steer her back towards the sofa and the half hung string of lights. “There’s not a lot of people that run around with him like that.” 

A swell of pride rose up in his chest at that. “I like him. He’s a good kid.”

“It’s nothing major right? The changes to the contract?” 

“No.” he pressed a kiss to her messy hair. “Nothing major.” It was just a few things to ensure their future, nothing she needed to worry about right now.

“Thank you again, for everything.” she sighed, sinking into the sofa and curling slightly into his side. 

He hummed, tugging her in a little closer. It was cute how she thought that this was big. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. This was just the beginning for them, and this little apartment was no place for them to raise a growing family. 

“Anything for you.” 

part 16

[krreader]

blessing in disguise.

pairing: mark tuan x reader fandom: got7 genre: angst ; fluff word count: 1.3k+

summary: not every end means something bad...

a/n: I think this is my first got7 request since the disbandment. know that they’ll always be got7 to me and will always have a special place in my heart. thank you for requesting love <3

Mark and you had been dating for almost four years when you had found out that you were pregnant. The pregnancy hadn't been planned, nor had it been something that either of you were really prepared for. The topic of kids had come up every now and again and you had both agreed to have a more serious conversation about this once your lives weren't as hectic anymore.

Because having a baby while one was still an idol had definitely never been on the agenda.

Still, it had happened, and you had both agreed to keep the baby. Because even if you hadn't wanted it at that specific time, didn't mean that you didn't want it at all.

A few months later, you gave birth to a baby boy that looked just like his father. The whole thing was a huge secret, only your families and a few selected members of JYP knew. Everyone knew that this would be a huge scandal if it came out, so it was all kept under wraps.

But maybe a little too much.

Since nobody knew that Mark now had a baby, he continued with his schedule like he normally would. Meaning: performances, tours, appearances. He made it seem like nothing had changed for him. All the while you were sitting at home with a baby now.

Your baby. 

You had understood, at first. Were okay with it, actually. But the older your son became and the more milestones that Mark missed because he was never home, the more you hated the situation.

“You didn't record it?” Mark asked with sadness in his voice over the phone.

“He said it out of the blue... I can't record everything he does, Mark.”

“I know, but..-” he interrupted himself and let out a heavy sigh instead, “I understand.”

It wasn't just the relationship between your son and his father that suffered, though. You couldn't remember the last time that you said I love you to him... nor him to you. It was as if the more time passed, the harder it was for your relationship to survive. There was a barrier forming between you two and you didn’t know what to do to stop it from happening.

“Will you come home this weekend?” you changed the subject.

“I... hope so,” the answer that he always gave you. At first, it had given you hope. But now, you knew that it meant the chances were very slim. He barely made it home when he said that sentence.

“Alright,” you took in a deep breath and let it out again a moment later, “Gotta go.”

“Okay... call me when you need something.”

You snorted, “Not like you'd help with anything,” it came out before you could properly think about it, but then again, it was the truth. You knew that if there was an emergency, you'd have better chances with the nice lady next door, than with your boyfriend, the father of your kid.

“That's not fair,” Mark said, his voice weak, “I'm trying my best, you know?”

“For your career.”

“The career that you helped me get through. What am I supposed to do?” you wanted to say give it up, but that you thankfully didn't. Because that was just downright selfish. So you kept quiet and didn't say anything. But it was as if he could read your mind, “Give it all up?”

“Do whatever you want, Mark. I don't care.”

“You don't care?”

You realized that this was escalating into a fight. And having a fight through the phone wasn't good. It was always better to have discussions like this face to face... but it had already started and now it had to be finished.

“I can take care of my child on my own.”

“Your child?!” he was calm and sad before, but now he was getting angry, his voice getting louder, “He's my son, too.”

“I wonder if he knows that... as you're never really around to be a father to him,” while he was angry, you were just salty and frustrated. Not good emotions to have a fight with, especially not one over the phone.

“Don't you think you're being unfair right now? When I'm trying my best to be there for you?”

“If this is your best, then I don't know if I need you.”

The line was quiet for a long time, but the more time passed, the more nervous you became. Even though you hadn't told him that you loved him in a while and were frustrated, didn't mean that you didn't still have feelings for him. And breaking up with him wasn't something that you wanted... this was just another thing that came out of your mouth without properly thinking about it.

Unfortunately, you had no time to apologize or to explain where you were coming from, because Mark simply ended the call.

That was on Tuesday.

You knew that if he came home, it would only be for the weekend... but usually, he at least called every day to make sure that you were both okay.

You got no call from him the next day, nor on Thursday.

On Friday, you began to worry and ended up texting him, despite your pride telling you not to.

“Are you alright?”

But you got no answer. He did a VLIVE that night, so you knew that he was still alive and he looked pretty alright to you... which only made everything worse, in a sense. Because if he was alright, then why didn't he call or text? If not for your sake, then at least for your son’s?

Maybe it was because of what you had said... that you didn't need him... maybe that's why he was doing this now. Did he think you were breaking up with him?

After your initial anger had passed, you ended up writing him another message, a longer one this time.

“I'm sorry about what I said. I'm just frustrated. I thought things would be different eventually, but they're not. And the more you're gone, the less I feel hopeful that things will change. That it's always just going to be me and our boy. I hope you get that... get me.”

Yet again, you got no answer.

In fact, you didn't hear anything from him in two weeks and your anger slowly turned into sadness, thinking that this might actually be the end after all. That maybe, what you had said, had opened his eyes. Simultaneously, it had also opened yours.

You still needed him. You still loved him.

Today marked the second week of not having heard a single word from Mark. You were standing at the window, your sleeping son in your arms as you were looking at the bright lights that were lighting up Seoul, letting out a big sigh and leaning your cheek against your son's head.

“I'm sorry I messed up.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

His voice startled you, turning around with big eyes. Your eyebrows quickly furrowed, though, when you saw that he had one suitcase and two bags with him. None of these had been here before. They looked like they were from their dorm, actually.

“What..- what's this?”

Mark's lip turned into a sad smile, his eyes tired, “It's over. GOT7.”

Your mind immediately went into worry mode, crossing the room and putting your hand on his cheek. And the moment you pulled him towards you, he started crying... if only a little. 

“I'm so sorry...”

He wasn't sobbing, just silently crying while holding you and your son in his arms. And when he leaned back and kissed the boy's head, you saw him smile once again. Happier, this time.

“You want to know what was the first thing that came to mind when I signed the papers?” he raised his eyes to look at you, “That I finally get to be the man that you two deserve.”

“Please don't say this,” you immediately shook your head, “I said things I shouldn't have said.”

“Maybe, but they were truth. I wasn't here for you. That stops now, though,” he kissed your forehead, “I'm not leaving you again.”

The entire situation was incredibly hard for him, but he knew that you and your son were always at home waiting for him, his fans still loved him unconditionally..

..he'd be okay.

With your help.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

BESTIES!! PART 10 IS A HOT ONE!! Enjoy reading it as much as I did while writing it (and re-reading it because its probs one of my fav parts of the whole series) Love Always, Steph xx

Part 10 | parte dieci

warnings; heavy-petting, almost-smut, and a hot jack grealish - read at your own risk ;) word count; 2469. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 16/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Longing glances and shy smiles. That  was how Amelia and Ben both spent the next morning at Cobham together, prior to travelling to Stamford Bridge for the fourth match of the season against Aston Villa. The two had spent the rest of the evening relaxing on the couch; no additional kisses were shared between them as they had both agreed to keep things friendly, and no matter how hard Ben tried, Amelia had no intentions of going any further just yet. She had admitted to him something that she had never uttered out loud before: she still needed to work out how to exist without Fede.

While their situationship had been as unconventional as it was, it was still something that Amelia had grown to live with and love. Fede’s personality was unlike no other she had come across, perhaps closest to that of Jack Grealish. Friendly, flirtatious, charming, to the point where she found herself blushing sometimes - not many people had been able to make her shy enough to blush, but Fede had, and now Jack was too.

hot boy grealish

mornin mils, can’t wait to see ya today.

I’ll be the hot one with the good hair and even better ass.

hot gal mils

morning my dear jacky, looking forward to seeing you too.

Is Tyrone not playing?

His bum has always been my fav bum to stare at.

hot boy grealish

cut it out, you.

Banter-filled texts had been a constant stream of entertainment throughout the days leading up to the match. Jack has been preparing Amelia for the possibility of her losing, constantly picking on the girl for being an overachiever and saying that she needs to be brought down a few pegs, having been quite some time since her team had lost a match. Amelia however, with enough self-confidence to rival that of the villa boy, wouldn’t even let him finish his sentences. Far too superstitious for that to happen.

The girl believed in superstitions, and she was not about to tempt her fate. She even went so far as to have her family name and a small Italian flag embroidered onto the inside of her collar of every polo shirt she would wear for match days. She did it at Juventus and organised for it to be done to her new Chelsea uniform. It was a personal choice, something that happened to run in her family also, her father and brother also having the White family name stitched to the inside of their kit. It was a way of keeping them all tied together, no matter what side of the pitch they were on. The Italian flag was there to remind her of all that the country had given her: her grandparents and a chance to be brilliant at what she loves most.

Arriving at Stamford Bridge off of the team bus, Jorgi had insisted she sitwith him and they spoke exclusively in Italian for the 30-odd minute drive from Cobham. Despite Amelia purchasing a new car a few days prior, Jorgi insisted they continue to carpool. It worked out well because now Amelia wouldn’t have to catch the team bus back to the training ground after the match. She had spent the better part of an hour out on the pitch with some of the boys, running through the plays she had in mind before she ushered them back into the changeroom, allowing the Aston Villa men to have their time out on the grass.

______________________________________________________________

“I would know that bum anywhere.”

“Hello Jack, nice to see you too. I’ve been well thanks, so has my bum. I’ll let my face know you said hello, too,” I spoke as I stood up from my crouched position, where I had been tying my laces.

“Just kiddin love, actually no I'm not - I love your bum. But I am happy to see your beautiful face too!” Jack spoke, as he pulled me into a hug - wrapping both of his arms around my head, effectively pushing me further into his chest.

“You saw my face a couple days ago when we were on FaceTime!”

“I saw your bum a few days ago on FaceTimetoo, doesn’t mean I'm not happy to see it!”

“So that's why you like helping me do my laundry, so you can see my backside as I reach into the machine!”

“Now I’m not a religious man, but I have prayed to God a few times that you drop a sock or two riiiiiiight in front of the camera.” He laughed back at my shocked expression.

“Jack! You are ridiculous! Stop being such a perv! No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend” I play-shouted at him as I smacked him with my rolled up matchday program.

“I’m holding out for you, my love.”

“Always the joker, Jack. Get out there and prepare for the worst match of your season.”

“Dream on Mils, we’ve got this in the bag.”

“Sure thing Jacky, sure thing.”

I walked further up the tunnel towards the changeroom, getting ready to deliver my strategy talk to the boys.

“Stop looking at my ass, Grealish!” I shouted without turning around. The boisterous laugh that followed my exclamation was enough to know that I was correct. I didn’t need to turn around to be able to predict what the laddish lad was already doing.

60 minutes of football later.

Amelia was correct in saying that Chelsea were going to win the match, her quiet confidence only getting louder and louder as each premier league match went on. She was apprehensive at first to see if her tactics were going to work in the Prem, or if there was to be some compromise on skill due to the fast-paced nature of the game. So far, however, the Chelsea men were quick learners and even quicker to execute.

One thing she wasn’t prepared for, however, was the absolute worldie that Jack had scored just before half-time at the Bridge. There was an element of familiarity in his goal, recognising the play as one of her own. A small smile crossed  her face after he scored, running to celebrate with the away fans before jogging down past the bench and mouthing a quick “all you baby” at her as he moved back into position. She must have told him about it back when she was in Italy, knowing that there was no chance she would have exchanged her trade secrets to an enemy in the same league. It warmed her to know he paid enough attention to her to be able to practice that on his own with his team and execute it flawlessly in a live game.

What Amelia also wasn’t prepared for was for anyone else to recognise the play. Behind her on the bench sat an oddly-inquisitive Ben. He saw the tactic as it was playing out, recognising the run that Jack had to make to put himself in the box at the exact moment that John McGinn crossed the ball. Better yet, he saw Jack run down the sideline, nowhere near where he should have been, and mouth those words to Amelia. He wanted to know what was going on, was that why she wasn’t ready to commit to him?

Later that same evening.

After a hot shower, Amelia was curled up on the couch, ready to continue the docuseries she was watching the night before when she had an unexpected visitor pop round and confess his feelings to her. Thinking back on the night prior, she was happy that things ended up working out the way they did. Of course she wasn’t exactly thrilled with just how they happened but she could forgive the sweet boy. His intentions were pure and that's not something she was used to. It made her giddy to think about him, and about where things may go in the future.

A ring of her doorbell, almost to the exact hour that it had the night prior, made her get off her couch and walk down the small hall to the front door with a smirk on her face. Expecting to see the same brown-haired, blue-eyed boy that seemed to enjoy ringing her bell after hours. What she saw on the other side, however, was not what she was expecting.

“Jack, what on bloody God’s earth are you doing here?! You should be halfway back to Birmingham by now!”

“Are you gonna let me in love, it’s bloody cold out ‘ere tonight. Come on, shove over,” The slightly-less-than-6-foot-tall footballer commandeered her hallway, shutting the door behind him and locking it. This,  coupled with his overnight duffle bag hanging off his shoulder let Amelia know that he had no other plans but to stay with her.

“Sure, Jack, I suppose you can come in and spend the night crashing in my spare room.”

“Now now, don’t pretend that you’re not happy to see me, love. And a spare room? I believe you promised me a cuddle.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile at the charming young man. Feeling the blush start to spread from her chest up her neck and across her cheeks, she quickly turned and walked into her kitchen, calling out over her shoulder to ask if he wanted a cup of tea. Feeling a sense of deja vu from the night before, she shook her head and reminded herself that this is nothing like the night before. How could it have been - there was no kissing involved.

“Was that a blush I saw? Do I make you nervous, Amelia?” Somehow, Jack had moved to be right behind the girl at her kitchen counter. Hands on her hips, chest to her back, lips to her ear. Amelia felt herself freeze, and then relax into his hands.

“Jack, please, I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not, Mils? You can feel it, too. The tension through the screen’s enough to force me into a cold shower most nights.”

And just like the night before, the whistle of the kettle was the only piercing sound resonating around the townhouse. Whilst all she saw was truth behind Ben’s eyes, Jack's eyes were clouded with lust and affection. Just once, she could give in, right?

Leaning her head back to rest on his right shoulder, he attached his lips to the left side of her neck. Hands rolling from the side of her hips, to underneath her shirt, feeling the small navel piercing between his fingers and smirking.

“Didn’t take you for being the kind of girl to have a piercing, Mils,” He spoke into her collarbone, a small nip to the sensitive skin as the girl continued to focus on her breathing.

“Piercings, Jack. I have more than one” She breathlessly spoke, knowing exactly what she was doing now. The admission of having more than one piercing that he could not see was all of the consent Jack needed to continue his exploration of her body.

“Are you going to let me see them, darling?”

“If you’re lucky.”

“I’d say I'm the luckiest guy in the world right now, especially in this position.”

She was unsure how it had happened, but Jack had pressed her further into the countertop. With her back still to his chest, his waist was at the perfect height to press into the small of her back. His leg had settled between both of her own and his hands had found the bottom of her bralette and were gently caressing her rib cage, desperate to get closer to where he presumed her other piercing was.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Jack,” she breathed out into the air, hot air escaping her lungs to resemble what she felt brewing in the pit of her stomach. Desire.

“Why the bloody hell not?” he mumbled into her sweet spot, where her jaw met her neck.

“Because I've been here before. This is bad.” With her eyes shut, he continued his way down her neck. The fabric of her top shifted so he could slide one of her straps down her arm.

“If it's bad, why does it feel so good? '' Whilst his lips got to work on her collarbone, and his hand was busy toying with the elastic line of her bralette, his other hand began to fiddle with her fingers. Entwining them with his own, the kind of strength she needed to feel to make her next decisions.

Pushing back off of the counter, meaning her ass had pushed right into the part of his body where he wanted her most, Amelia turned around and faced Jack. The two stood there, slightly panting, staring at each other. Amelia being the kind of girl that she is, decided that she wanted to have a little slice of the dominance pie. Maintaining eye contact, she lifted the bottom of her t-shirt over her head and dropped in on the floor, that second piercing now very clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her bralette.

“Come on Jack, aren’t you an athlete? What’s got you so out of breath? I thought you’d be able to last a little longer than some heavy petting.” She taunted at the smirking man, wanting nothing more than to mess up his hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. That's exactly the position that they found themselves in not more than 5 minutes later, this time upstairs in her bedroom.

Throughout the multiple rounds of passion that the two so-called friends shared that night, not once had their lips touched. Of course, her lips had touched parts of him and he had definitely been all over a completely different set of lips a few times (and from a few different positions), but face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose - their lips had never met. That told Amelia enough to set her anxiety on fire. Had she just gotten involved with a carbon-copy of the man she left behind in Italy?

The regret seeped through her bones and settled into her heart by the time that the Villa boy had fallen asleep next to her. What had she done? This was not the girl Amelia wanted to be anymore. She was done being the girl that was loved only when the lights went out. She wanted love under the sun, she wanted breakfast by the river, double dates, family parties. She wanted the kind of love that you could never try and hide even if you wanted to. She knew that this wasn’t what Jack was able to offer her. She was grateful for their friendship, she truly was, he made her laugh more than most people but for the first time in a very long time, she was certain that that's all she wanted from him.

Part 11. | parte undicesima

[secondhand-trash]

Friday I’m In Love

commissioned by @xaki

A/N: no, the fic has nothing to do with the song it just so happens that it fits in the most literal sense lmao much thanks to xaki who gave me my first commission and my friend for helping me out when my brain was going all sorts of illogical directions uwu

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

Description: You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, where you tried your best to not let the fact that he was your high school crush distract you too much.

Warning: unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation

Word count: 5052

-

You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, during the single Wednesday morning lecture you shared.

You had allowed yourself the luxury of stealing a few glances his way during that one occasion, but never do more than just looking from afar.

Actually, it was ironic that you had gotten to the point of limiting yourself from even looking at him when there was a time you would see him nearly every day.

Getting into the same high school was a pure coincidence, but you had also noticed early on that no matter where he was, your gaze was following his figure before you even realised it. Who could blame you, really. Who wouldn’t want to spare even just a few more seconds looking at the boy who was taller than the rest of his peers even in his first year, only growing more and more breathtaking as he ditched the boyishness and slowly gained the edge on his face and the hint of maturity in his eyes.

You were far from being the only one that harboured a bit of a schoolgirl crush on the eventual volleyball club captain. In the few years where you shared the same class, you had witnessed him being called out of the classroom by blushing pupils more times than you could count. It always brought a bitter taste to your mouth but what could you do about it? At least they had the guts to confess. 

You liked to believe that it was not a cowardly move for you to hide your affections all throughout your high school years. It was just that as early as you had noticed your budding feelings, you also realised that you two belong with two seperate groups of people with very different interests, and the chances that he would opt for you was slimmer than slim. So you never did much to try and win him over, maintaining a friendly distance where you only interact in class and nothing outside of it. 

At least it could be a nice memory to look back on when you were way past the age to be conflicted over things like this.

You were just as shocked as any other person when you learned that he did not go the pro-athlete route everyone thought he would go, nearly as shocked when you walked into your first lecture of the semester to see him sitting right at the very front.

He seemed to have noticed you too, giving you a slight nod after his eyes widened. You returned the polite gesture, before heading straight to the very back of the lecture hall without a hint of hesitation.

You could deal with one more semester of friendly distance. Couldn’t be that hard, right?

-

It was Wednesday morning again, and you sinked into the seat at the very back of the lecture hall you tactfully occupied with a yawn.

It was from pure bad luck that you managed to register the one 8:30 lecture available in the course. Everywhere around you, people were either half asleep or laid down on the table at the very least. From the corner of your eye, you even spotted someone catching up on the latest episodes of the new tv series that just aired with subtitles on.

You sighed, leaning your jaw on your palm. You wanted to say that this was a bit too much even for a lecture but who were you to judge when your soul was starting to escape your body to somewhere more interesting than the lecture hall anyway.

The amount of people who were actually paying attention to the lecture could probably be counted with one hand, let along the ones that seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. You thought to yourself, your glances floating to the boy who blocked even more of your view with his roaster head on top of his existing height.

He was probably the only one who still had the strength to chuckle when the lecturer tried to liven up the dying atmosphere with unfunny gags.

“...for the upcoming event, students who volunteered as committee members would receive bonus marks based on their performance,” you perked up at the distant call of ‘bonus score’ from far away, “the form will be placed by the door, Please fill in your name before you leave if you are interested.”

Your mind was occupied by numbers and calculations of your gpa for the rest of your class, even as you lined up mindlessly behind your other classmates after the lecture was dismissed. Another thing about morning lessons was that the amount of effort you were willing to put in was also diminished by the limits on your mind and soul, meaning that any chance at a higher grade was worth trying. You had decided that free labour in exchange for that good grade was a decent enough bargain.

“Hey.”

You snapped out of your trance when it was your turn at the form only to feel your heart skipping a beat when you looked up to see the familiar handsome face you stared at as your recharge every morning.

You blinked, trying hard to maintain a calm front even though your mind went haywired at the rare direct interaction you had with Kuroo.

“Do you need the pen?” he asked, holding out the thin ball pen he was gripping in his hand to you.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, putting on a polite smile as you took it from him, “oh yes. Um, thank you.”

It was only a while later when you put down your name right below his that it finally hit you that you two had signed up for the same event. It took even longer for you to realise that the strange tingle you felt at the back of your hand was from his fingertips brushing past yours as he let go of the pen, but by then he was gone and it would be a few days later when you saw him again.

-

You now see Kuroo Tetsurou two times every week. Once during the dreadful morning lecture on Wednesday and on Friday evening where you were stuck in the committee meeting together.

But unlike the stolen glances on Wednesday, you were forced to acknowledge Kuroo as more than just a distant being you were merely acquaintances with in those few hours.

It was very inconvenient for you, considering how each time you felt smaller and smaller under his concentrated gaze as he listened to your input on whatever topic of discussion it was. In fact, you felt rather resentful that you couldn’t quite stand as firm as you did on your stance that you wanted to keep what was clear to be a admiration from being known under your own free will instead of a lack of self-assurance.

You had no choice but to be reminded that he was smart and brilliant on top of just being good-looking. He always knew what to say when the rest of the room was stuck, moving the agenda forward with each valuable input. He was easy to work with, reliable and always efficient.You found that you genuinely liked working with him, crush or not. He listened intently to what other people had to say and never said anything less than constructive.

Worst of all, you were starting to have the illusion that he had started paying more attention to you too. When you looked around the room as you were about to speak up each time, you would always lock your eyes with him at some point, even before you started talking like he already anticipated that you would have something to say.

Maybe it was a mistake, you thought to yourself as you stared outside the pitch black windows of the bus that was rocking steadily, feeling your mind drifting away after using up all your energy in the meeting, maybe those few bonus marks were not worth all this inner conflict.

“Hi, um,” you looked to the side, your mind going blank like you just got caught doing something guilty when you saw the exact person you were thinking about standing by. You cursed the uncontrollable heat that raised on your face, “can I sit here?”

It wasn’t like you could say no. “Sure,” you said as you picked up your bag to clear out the seat for him, flashing a cordial smile of someone who did not have a reason to be nervous when you could already feel the beating in your chest speeding up, “of course.”

“Thanks,” he said with a relieved sigh, throwing himself on the empty chair with a soft thump. You tried to pretend that you did not secretly really care about how close he was to you now, looking back out of the window again. Kuroo looked at you, pondering if he should say something first.

“So…”

“Hm?” you turned around to face him at the dragged out note of his voice.

“Have you gone back to Nekoma after graduation?”

You sighed and gave a light shake of your head, "No. Just surviving college is hard enough, who has time to think about going back?”

You tried to dismiss the knot in your stomach when he replied with a light chuckle and the corner of your lips curling up against your will when he leaned back. “Makes sense," he said, running his hand through his unruly hair before swiftly carrying on to ask you about what you were up to now.

It would have been easier if it was awkward or uncomfortable but sadly, Kuroo was also very easy to talk to and by the time you regained your senses, you were already at the door of your apartment with him walking you there the whole way after getting off the bus at the same stop.

Next Friday, he came up to you with a grinning face when you packed up your stuff after the meeting. “We go the same direction, right?” he had said, walking next to you casually as you headed out the meeting room. He started the conversation before you could say anything, and like last time, he walked you back to your apartment, claiming that he lived nearby anyways.

You saw him twice every week. Once during the morning lecture that was starting to feel less painful to endure and the Friday committee meeting, where he naturally walked you home without fail each week. At some point, he started saving you the seat next to him before each meeting and there was less and less of a reason for you to not take it when he was already leaving with you anyways. All of the above had reminded you once again why you were so hellbent on staying away from him in the first place.

He was far too easy to like, even more so now that you were somewhat friends by the end of the series of meetings.

-

The voice of your instructor was distant as you stared at the clock, the sound of Kuroo’s pencil tapping against the table keeping you in touch with what was going on. It was the last meeting you had to attend and quite frankly there was nothing interesting going on at this point. You glanced to the side, before pulling out your phone that has been buzzing in your pocket since the meeting started.

You tried to conceal the irritation rising in your chest as you looked at the glowing screen underneath the table. Your old friends had been bombing you with questions ever since they learnt that after years of looking on, you somehow had a leaping development with your crush on accident after graduation. It was a mistake on your part, given how the topic of their heated discussion was sitting right next to you. 

“(y/l/n)?”

The sudden mention of your name startled you, and you threw your phone down almost a bit too hard. “Yes?”

“Can you help hand these out?”

You let out a relieved sigh that you were not being called out for not paying attention as you stood up, pushing the conversation that was no doubt still ongoing in your group chat to the back of your head. “Of course.”

Kuroo watched as you got out, taking the stack of minutes from the instructor. After today, he would go back to only seeing you when you walked into the morning lecture hall. He felt the nerves building in his stomach, wondering if he should bear his teeth and threw his shot in changing that.

‘So you’re just going to do nothing?’

The screen of your phone that was laying on the table lit up as the speech bubble appeared. His curiosity got the better of him when the next message popped in before he could look away.

‘You have liked Kuroo for years and you’re just going to let this chance slip?’

He froze in place when he read his own name. You liked him? His eyes flicked to you, his heart in his throat at the realisation that he had just learnt something he was not supposed to know. 

But despite the slight guilt of overstepping his boundaries, it took all the fiber in his body to stop himself from grinning ear to ear when you returned to your seat next to him.

“What?” you asked with an amused quirk of your eyebrows at how stiffly he was sitting.

“Nothing,” Kuroo replied, feeling the muscle around his mouth going sore as he bit the inside of his cheeks, “nothing.”

The ride home felt so much longer with him next to you, knowing that this was to be the last. He did not say anything even as you got off, only walking in silence like he was deep in thought. You wondered what it was that made him so quiet today, he was usually the more chatty one out of you two.

Kuroo felt the tension building up in his head as you got closer and closer to your door. 

“Can I tell you something?”

You snapped around, your hand on the handle of your doorknob when he suddenly spoke up for the first time since you left the meeting that day. “Yeah?”

“My place is at the opposite side of the neighbourhood.”

“What?” your voice came out as a whisper. Your breath hitch at the back of your throat when he took one step closer to you before leaning down. His face was right in front of yours, his defined features dangerously close to you.

“I said,” you could feel his breath fanning on your face as he spoke and the pounding in your ear was thundering as you held your breath, “I’m only here because I want to be around you.”

Kuroo watched intently as your eyes widened, your jaw clenching as you gulped. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, almost like he was waiting for you to show him any hint of rejection before he made the irreversible move. 

When your hand slowly crept onto his shoulder and stayed there, he latched onto you. You were taken back by his force, his tongue evading your mouth at your moment of lowered alert. His kiss was demanding, stealing away the oxygen in your lungs bit by bit as he held you close. 

You were panting when he pulled away after his initial outburst, your pupils dilated as your lips swollen up. You paused, before gathering the courage that had surged in your chest.

“Do you want to come in?”

Kuroo did not waste another second when the door clicked, his hand getting rougher now that you were within the privacy of your home. Your arms hung around his neck as you desperately held yourself up, your toes barely touching the floor as he demandingly kissed down the side of your neck. He lost patience at your struggling, lifting you up with his arm under your hips before pulling you down onto him with a stumbling step to the cramped couch.

“Help me strip.” He whispered in your ear, adjusting your position on his lap as he brought your hand to the opened collar of his shirt. You gulped when he gave an encouraging knead on your upper thigh, far too consumed by the want of seeing more of him to feel bashful by his bold request.

His gaze burned on your skin as he stared at you, not moving away even for a second while you tear apart the row of buttons to reveal more and more of his toned body. You felt like your fingers were not listening to your commands, a clumsy stiffness in your joints as he unhooked each button. The subconscious way you darted your tongue out to wet your lips at the rise and fall of his chest did not go unnoticed under his attentive stare, his much larger hands guiding you to palm his tend over the firm material of his jeans as your finger grazed past the cold metal of the zipper.

Kuroo’s stomach tensed up when you pulled down the fly, pushing your hips against his legs as you pushed away the heavy jeans. He held you down as he sat up, drinking in your soft moan with an open mouthed kiss. Your hand ran down from his shoulder to the firm pecs adoring his abdomen, each mound rippling under the tip of your fingers. His circled one arm around your waist while the other fumbled to pull his aching cock out of its refines. You felt the vibration of his chest as he groaned into your mouth when you allowed your hand to wander down his body, cupping his balls as he fisted his own length.

You let out a shaky sigh when he slid his palm down the elastic band of your panties, groping the soft flesh of your ass as he peeled off the thin piece of cotton with a push down the small of your back to have you arching for him.  He chuckled when he felt the wetness that was seeping through the fabric, earning a glare from you that looked more like a kitten pretending to be defensive out of embarrassment than truly threatening to him with your heated face and slightly swollen lips from his earlier nibbling when you pulled away. A thin strand of silver connected your lips, looking all the more erotic now that you were both half bare and exposed to each other’s hungry eyes.

Your finger dug into the muscle of his arms when he lifted you up from his lap with ease, much thanks to the firm grasp of your thighs in his warm palms. Your lips fell agape but no sound came out when you felt the hardness prodding at your entrance. He looked shamelessly at where your bodies met, not bothering to hide the grin on his face when he felt the pain of your nails against his arm as he brushed his tip along your slit. You whined at the friction that was barely there, not able to sink down with him holding you back but your legs were starting to go weak with each push of his length against your clit. He took his time, spreading the leaking pre-cum across your folds and watching the mixture of your arousal slowly coated his cock.

“Kuroo…” you called out for him, hoping that it would be enough for him to give you what you wanted.

“Aw... What’s with this formality?” his arm flexed under your touch as he tilted his head to the side, lowering you down just a little, “What should you call me when I’m about to fuck your brains out, hm?”

You bite onto the inside of your cheeks when you felt him barely dipping in, his tip just positioned at your pussy.

“Tetsurou-” 

his own name felt foreign as it rolled off the tip of your tongue and he let out an approving hum. “Good girl,” he purred, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. 

His grip on your legs tightened as he leaned closer to you, pushing his cock just a little deeper. Your brows locked together as he stretched out your entrance, clawing at his arm for more. You thought he was finally going to show some mercy on you, but the beating in your heart skipped a beat when you felt his hot breath fanning across your lips instead.

“You’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

Your eyes snapped open, his handsome face right in front of yours. “Wha- mph!”

You yelped at the sudden drop of your hips onto his lap, your nails scratching down his arm as he hilted inside of you with one motion. Your head threw back at the waves of shocking pleasure that sparked down your spine, your juicings running down the base of your thighs as your walls tried to accustomed to his thickness and length.

“What is it? Did you just say yes?” his laugh was wolfish as he took in your expression, a mixture of infuriated and primal desire.

“You-” he did not give you the time to bite back, thrusting up with a lift of your hips and turning whatever you wanted to say into nothing but incoherent moans.

Your body did not feel like it was under your control as he guided you to grind on his cock, the slaps of your soft flesh against his thighs taking over your senses. Your toes curled at how deep he could reach inside you each time he pulled you up and bottomed out of you. His hands were fondling your ass roughly as he bounced you on his cock, reducing you to nothing but a panting mess laying weakly on his chest.

“How does it feel to have the man of your dreams stretching out your tight cunt, hm?” he emphasised each word with a thrust, grinning ear to ear when you made a frugal attempt at slapping his arm you were holding onto. You buried your face into his chest, your muffled moans coming out as hot breath on his skin. He looked down from above you, watching as your ass jiggled under each thrust and your spine arching from the pleasure. 

A loud smack echoed in the room and he groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him at the slap of his palm against your ass cheek. He gave the flesh a firm knead, rubbing at the area that had heated up from the spank before pulling his hand away to give the other side the same treatment. You felt the numbness on your skin as your skin burned, the pain making every hair on your back stood up. 

“You like it when I get rough with you? You are squeezing down on my cock so hard,” his voice came as gravel from his chest. Your mind was in a frenzy, not even thinking straight as you nodded feverishly. “You’re such a slut for me, it’s really inflating my ego,” his filthy words made your stomach tighten as he continued, “bet this is what you have been thinking about whenever you check me out.”

You felt your face burning up. He knew all along?

Your surprise came out in the form of a squeal when he stood up, still holding you up. Your panting got more rapid as your only leverage from falling was the frantic clawing at his arm, having nothing but his strength to trust as he bounced you on his cock while marching down the hallway.

He hissed at the sharp pain on his back when your hands scratched down, kicking the door open with a hasty shove at the door with his heel before throwing you down the mattress. He did not waste another second as he perched on top of you, hooking your legs around his waist before rolling his hips to completely take over the pace of his cock pistoning at the spongy spot that made your mind foggy with nothing but his name and the overwhelming feeling of being towered over in your head.

The squelching got louder and louder as he ruthlessly snapped against you. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened up as he leaned down, sucking on the sweet spot at the side of your neck. His hand roamed all over your body, kneading your tits that bounced under his force. 

He could not get over the fact that you were actually here, folded beneath him right now, and that it was his name you were moaning out. 

“I’m-” your legs clasped around him as every muscle on your limbs tensed up, “I’m close-”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want,” he growled in your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as your walls spasmed around his cock, “what does my girl want?”

You had imagined what it would be like if Kuroo Tetsurou ever set his eyes on you, if he had wanted you the same way you had absentmindedly started wanting him despite your best efforts to convince yourself that you knew that would not happen. But nothing could stop the heat that exploded in your chest and spread all through your body at how natural it came out of his mouth.

His girl. You were his girl now.

You let out a choked mewl when he switched from erratic plowing to slowly dragging his cock along your walls. The sudden drop from your near high seeped into your senses, tingling down from your core all the way to the tip of your toes. 

“Tetsu-” your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out all the way only to halt in you with a sudden thrust, “want you to make me cum- ah!”

The shocks that sparked through your body when he set his sight on making you fall apart underneath him with his vigorous thrusts had your toe pointing stiffly and curling under the pleasure. The fist in the pit of your stomach curled and unfolded as he gripped your chin roughly, turning your head to look right into his eyes.

“Fuck, you wanna cum?” he hissed, feeling the shivers on his own back as he got closer and closer to his own high, “Then look at me, look at me as you cum on my cock-”

You felt your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. His eyes were all you could focus on as you succumbed to the weakening of your limbs, the pounding in your ear gradually returned to a regular pace with Kuroo’s languish strokes allowing you to ride out your high. 

You were sure you could never forget how the defined arch of his brows knitted together as he pulled out of you, his head throwing back just a little with his lips slightly parted. A sinful moan leaking out as spurts of white painted across your lower stomach. 

Your vision was hazed over with a veil of fog as you blinked, collecting your breaths before focusing on the roof of your room that suddenly felt so unfamiliar. The claminess on your skin and the smell of sweat slowly took over. You felt the weight on your chest, breathing out a heavy exhale.

You really did just have sex with your crush, huh?

As if noticing your train of thought, Kuroo leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your jaw, his grin reaching his eyes as he stared at you. Much unlike his earlier dominance, the lazy curl of each syllable on his lips sounded more so like he was trying to play cute.

"Wait here,” he said, adding another peck on your lips, “I’ll grab you a towel.”

“The bathroom is the one right outside…” you muttered, feeling the dent on the mattress sprung back as he climbed off of you.

Your tensed muscles slowly relaxed as he moved you to lean against his broad chest, his hand gently caressing your skin as he dabbed the wet towel on you. His lips ghosted along your ear as he cleaned up the marks and trails left from your earlier passions, trying hard to conceal his satisfaction when you whined as he brushed past the bruises on your thighs.

“You should start getting used to it from now on, plenty more chances for us to- ouch, ouch.. ok, I’m sorry…”

The corner of your lips lifted up, burying your face into his chest as you tried to get comfortable, “I was right, you are way more attractive without opening your mouth.”

“Awe, don’t say that,” he pouted but the wolfish grin on his face told you he was not apologetic at all.

Kuroo watched as you slowly leaned onto him more and more, until your eyelids closed up with a flutter. If you had stayed awake for just a little longer, you would know that he could not be any more careful when he tucked you under the blanket before slipping in next to you. On this rare occasion where he would not get caught, he allowed himself to stare at your serene expression as he dozed off to sleep with a content smile on his face.

You did not need to know that his grade for the one course you shared was high enough already and he signed up for the committee purely because you were signing up too. He certainly would not let you know that he had always noticed your lingering gaze on him or that he secretly enjoyed it, even back when he saw you more than twice a week. That and the fact that he was overjoyed when he saw you appearing from the door of the lecture hall that Wednesday morning, followed by the ever growing frustration that he couldn’t find an excuse to talk to you when you were literally in the same class.

Whatever. Kuroo thought to himself as he gently threw his arm over your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. At least he didn’t have to go all the way from your apartment complex back to his place every Friday anymore.

[valwentinefics]

I loved your Edward Cullen piece! I feel that that he would have a constant sexual urge brimming underneath and you accurately portrayed it boiling over. May i request another piece on how the MC and Esward met?

A/N: Sorry this took a bit, writers block + still being in school was tough but I managed, even If i’m not all that happy with the result! Prob will do a part 2 sorry the dialogue is awkward. I imagined like a scenario like the cannon universe where edward is into her but also scared of harming her but hes also just a teen boy with his first crush, both Y/n and edward arent sure how to act with it.

Tw: Being scared to walk alone at night?? Idk just put that just in case!! 

The midnight wind blew through Y/n’s hair, a chill running up her spine not just from the cold, but with every set of glowing headlights that passed her by. Y/n was never one to walk around at night, the fear of what may lurk had been pushed upon her since she was a child, and now as she wandered the dim streets her chest felt so tight with fear she wasn’t sure if she could breathe.  Y/n wished she had accepted Dr. Cullens offer of a ride home, but she didn’t want to inconvenience the man and instead lied about taking a taxi. Her and Dr. Cullen had become close over the past few weeks that she had been volunteering at the hospital, hoping to gain experience when she applied to universities to be a doctor. The two were inseparable there, Y/n watching with wide eyes and bated breath whatever the doctor did, and Carlisle carefully walking her through step by step the process of what he was doing. 

She pulled her sweater tighter around her body as she rounded the corner into an alleyway her e/c coloured eyes darting around. She could see her breath as she tried to calm her breathing, but that was proved futile when she stepped on a can, the loud crunch startling a scream out of her. “Get it together Y/n.” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, trying to regain composure as she heard distant voices approaching. Her hand, stiff from cold, dug into her pocket, grabbing her keys and sticking them through the paces between her fingers. Feeling a little better, Y/n continued her walk.

Y/n had to admit, despite her terror, the night time in forks was beautiful. The way the streets were illuminated by the passing headlights of cars, and the occasional coloured lights of stores reflected through the puddles that seemed to forever be there in the rainy city had the ability to take her breath away despite how small they were. The awe of the neon painted town distracted her from the silent footsteps coming behind her.

“Y/n?” Spoke a familiar voice. She spun around at the sound of her name, her grip on her keys tightened, only to loosen a bit when she recognized the man in front of her. Edward Cullen. “It’s late, why are you out here alone? You must be cold.” Y/n hadn't talked to the Cullen boy before, or really any Cullen other than Carlisle. At school the Cullen kids seemed like an untouchable group, but seeing him now, soaking wet, she felt as if he wasn't so high above the rest as everyone thought.

“I-I’m fine. Just a little chilly.” She lied, feeling the chill seep past the wet sweater she wore and into her body. The Cullen boy seemed to notice it was a lie, taking off his jacket and placing it over her shoulders in a fluid movement. “But won’t you get--”

“I don’t get cold easily.” Edward cut off her question, “Besides, my car is nearby. It’ll be warm in there.”

“No no it’s fine I’ll just take a cab.” Y/n said quickly, though the feeling of being in a warm car filled her thoughts she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone and much preferred to do things on her own despite her empty wallet disagreeing.

“It’ll be no inconvenience, besides It’ll save you money.” He replied as if he read her mind. Y/n opened her mouth to come up with a reason to not go with him but all that came out was a sneeze.

“See, you’re already catching a cold. Lets go.” Edward put his hand on the small of her back and began to lead Y/n to a Volvo parked on the side of the road. Y/n felt bad for bothering him but she could feel herself getting sicker with every sniffle, and her body was ice cold. She really wished she had initially accepted Dr. Cullen’s offer for a ride, fear dawning on her as she realized she would have to call in sick. If Edward noticed how she was feeling, he didn’t show it, staying silent as he ushered her into the car and passed her a blanket he had stored inside.

The car ride was quiet, the air between the two thick and awkward as they both figured out what to say. Y/n wished she could read minds, know what he was thinking. She hoped he wouldn’t tell Dr.Cullen about the meeting between the two, not wanting to appear like she rejected his car ride for any reason other than her own stupid independence. Y/n was about to say something, a question about how he found the weather, anything to make the ride less awkward, when he pulled up to her house. Quick pleasantries were exchanged between the two and Y/n headed inside, only realizing she had Edwards' coat once he had pulled away.

For the next few days the Cullen's were no shows at school. Y/n had the coat stashed in her locker to give to him, and yet she couldn’t find him. It drove Y/n insane. Every day she would walk into the cafeteria ready to finally get rid of this coat whose presence was weighing heavy on her subconscious, only to face disappointment when he wasn’t there. She knew a jacket wasn’t all that important in the long term, but it smelled so much like Edward’s car and reminded her of him and his stupidly attractive face, Y/n wanted to rid herself of it before her budding crush blossomed into a full blown one. It took a few days for Y/n to muster up the courage to talk to Dr.Cullen about it. Worries filled the back of her mind that he would think her to be stupid or weird, but as the were cleaning up for the night Y/n decided to bite the bullet.

Y/n sprayed the sharp smelling sanitizer on the table, wiping it down with a cloth and repeating on the next, her lips pursed as she thought of how to bring up the situation to the doctor across the room from her, who was busy looking over papers. Luckily the blonde seemed to notice first, standing up from his seat and walking over.

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” He asked casually yet looking at her with the look of concern only a father could give.

“Well a while ago, when you offered me a ride home because my car was in the shop and I said no and I would take a taxi, I actually decided to walk home because I didn’t want to bother you and then I ran into your son Edward and he gave me a ride home, but then I forgot to give it back to him, so could you?” Y/n asked, her words spilling out of her mouth quickly, glad she could finally get the situation off her chest.

Carlisle chuckled, grabbing a sticky note and writing on it, handing it to Y/n. “I have got to stay late but here’s my address. You can go give him it now or later.” 

Y/n nodded, giddy with the excitement of finally getting away from the burden of having to return the coat. “You’ll be fine here without me?” she asked cautiously before she got too excited.

Carlisle nodded. “Yes, go give my son his coat. And tell him he needs to wear it more often.”

The Cullen’s house was beautiful at night. A mansion buried in the woods, it seemed so serene. Y/n wished she lived there so she could gaze out of the many lit up windows and into the forest. But there was no time for daydreaming about the lush scenery, Y/n was on a mission. She held the grey fabric tightly as she stepped out of the car, nervously approaching the door. She hadn’t heard of anyone going to the Cullen’s house, was she the first from her school? She was nervous as she approached the door, about to knock when the door opened, revealing a small teen with a dark pixie cut. Was it Alexa Cullen? Y/n wasn’t too sure on their names.

“Edward, a cute girl is here for you!” The girl, possibly named Alexa, shouted into the house. “You are here for Edward right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Y/n said awkwardly, looking to the ground and tightening her grasp on the jacket, looking at the pavement that was illuminated by the open door. After a few moments of silence the light disappeared and she looked up, her eyes meeting Edward’s piercing amber ones that seemed to know her deepest secrets.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds at it” the girl chimed, closing the door and locking Edward outside.

“Sorry about my sister Alice, she’s a little…odd” Edward trailed off, looking to the side. Y/n was glad to know the name of the girl before, but also happy to just look at Edward, as creepy as it sounded. He looked perfect as always, hardly a strawberry blonde hair out of place, and those that were just made him look more perfect. Y/n could feel herself falling hard. Ever since the night he helped her out he seemed irresistible.

“It’s fine…” Y/n replied, the two sitting in silence for a while before Y/n remembered her task. “Oh here, I came to bring you your coat. So, uh, yeah..” She pressed the balled up grey coat into his hands. “Carlisle said you need to wear it more.”

Edward let out a chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to…” he stared at the grey fabric as if it would tell him what to say next.

“So I’ll go then?” Y/n said, though it sounded like a question. She didn’t want to bother him more than needed and began so walk away, pausing only when she heard his voice.

“Wait, before you go. Dinner, Friday, at eight? To make up for the effort you put in giving me my jacket back.” Y/n felt butterflies fly through her stomach, wondering if he possibly liked her back.

“Dinner… sounds good…” Y/n blushed with a smile to the ground, waiting for him to go back inside before giddily running back to her car. “I got a date with Edward Cullen!” She sang to herself as she pulled out of the driveway, oblivious to her crush smiling inside the house at her thoughts.

[neoheros]

how would haikyuu boys handle falling in love feat. kuroo + akaashi + tsukishima !!

kuroo tetsuro

being in a relationship with him is just a pretty chill experience tbh

i feel like kuroo wouldn’t really date anyone he’s not close to on a comfortable level

people be like: omfg he looks like a player tho

he’s literally not ???? like y’all telling me this man doesn’t look like the idea of having to interact with people he doesn’t know repulses him ? bye

he’s not ignorant, he just isn’t the type to get out there unless necessary yk?

he’s got a good friend group and he’s totally satisfied with that !!!!!!

so when he was 100% sure that he saw you as somebody he’d want to be more than friends with he was just like :0

kuroo at 5:37 am, thinking of that one time you handed him a bottle of water first: oh— oh shit

he doesn’t act on it first though because y’all have been friends for so long and what if you don’t like him back ???

he didn’t wanna ruin the thing he had with you because you were literally the only one who tolerated him sending tiktoks at 4 am in the morning

kuroo: omfg have you seen this one yet

you: bro it’s almost 5 am are you on crack

but eventually he got tired of just staring at you and admiring you from afar and having to make up some excuse when you catch him cause he just really likes looking at you :(

you: bro stop staring at me

kuroo: no, your face bothers me

you: due to personal reasons i will make you pass away ❤️

so one day he just decides to shoot his shot yk?

if you reject him that’s fine, he’ll just have to send numerous tiktoks to wash away the awkwardness afterwards

like he’ll be upset about it because holy crap he flat out adores you at this point but he’s also got a sense of boundaries and will totally respect your decision

BUT !!!! when you told him you liked him too he just 🥺👉👈

this man had the goofiest grin on his face for weeks on end and his heart is all over the place because all the things he imagined in his head to do with you is finally gonna come true !!!

don’t be fooled though !! nothing will change from your friendship !!! you’re still both really chill with each other except now y’all can hug and kiss and !!!!!

kuroo: don’t i look kinda good in this picture though

you: not really, let me take a better one

kuroo: stop taking me out of frame

in retrospect, it’s really fun to be in a relationship like the one you two have because there’s not much things to disagree on and the dynamic you both have just go so well !!!

there’s also not a lot of new things to do or be uncomfortable about because y’all have already done everything as best friends !!!!!!! it’s 🥺

you, seeing kuroo staring at you: what’re you looking at me for

kuroo, unnerved: you’re so pretty

you, caught off guard: it’s my time to pass away now i see 😌

you two joke around a lot but that doesn’t mean you two take whatever you say to heart

somewhere along the line, this made kuroo a bit worried on how you took his intentions though

he knew you were cool with messing with him but sometimes he wonders if what he says ever gets to you

so one night while the two of you are eating frozen yogurt in his car, you in his hoodie and just straight up vibing to the tiktoks that played as background music

he looks up, spoon in his mouth, “you know that i love you, right?”

“you’re so cheesy,” you tell him, laughing while you scroll up to the next video on the fyp

he leans back in his seat, eyeing you under the single yellow light of the car

you, barely looking up from your phone: i love you too though

akaashi keiji

being in a relationship with akaashi is quite literally the most gratifying thing

he’s 97% of your wise decision making and you’re very much thankful for that

when he first met you he honestly didn’t know what to think

his first impression of you? an indecisive impulsive mess

his second impression of you? a very cute indecisive impulsive mess

there’s not a single doubt that he was crushing on you H A R D

he doesn’t pay attention to it though because he knew how crushes often worked and most of the time they didn’t really work out

but the more he looked at you or stared at you from afar with a silly grin that he doesn’t even realize, everyone around him notices just how silent you make him

leave it up to the fukurodani volleyball club to be the best matchmakers in the world

so one night while akaashi was chilling in bed he gets a text from bokuto telling him about an impromptu team hang out sesh

akaashi: it’s 7 pm ..?

you, in the group chat: theres never a wrong time for milk tea !!!!!

when you sent that everyone else in the chat was just so frickin ecstatic because now that you’ve confirmed you were going, it’s obvious that akaashi was now too

he arrived like 2 minutes early from the designated time and the way it wasn’t at all shocking when no one else arrived except for you

akaashi: well they totally bailed :/

you: hey at least now we have a list of people to take revenge on when the purge strikes

it’s okay though because the two of you make most of the night anyways !!

you never thought sitting outside of a 7/11 at 7 pm on a friday could be fun but as you sat there with boba tea and a ramen cup with one of your closest friends next to you, you were just !!!! so frickin soft

akaashi on the other hand didn’t feel anything but utter nervousness the whole time

it was so cold under the night sky and you were so close to him, he’s praying that you take the redness on his cheeks from the weather and not from the rapid racing of his heart

bokuto texting him: bro i swear to god if you’re not taking this chance to shoot your shot i’m >:(

he’s so nervous because it actually was an ideal time to tell you how much he liked you

plus he’s pretty sure that you were eventually gonna notice just how often he glanced at you whenever you came to their practices or in general

so he’s like fine then !!! he’s gonna do this tonight and if you reject him then he’s just gonna have to deal !!!!

akaashi, anxious: hey i really li—

you, cutting him off: i like you a lot and i’m pretty sure bokuto did this on purpose because he knows and i’m sorry if it wasted your time !!!!

akaashi, less anxious: oh

HE !! DOES NOT HESITATE !!! TO REASSURE YOU !!

he just smiles softly and tucks your hand in his and tells you he’d like to walk you home that night

after that something just changed between the two of you

suddenly he’s walking you home everyday with little forehead kisses before he leaves

going grocery shopping with him when you run out of food at home because he’s the only one who knows about your secret snack stash

akaashi: you don’t need that much yakult

you: ? don’t be alarmed but i think we just found the reason of our first fight

whenever you go out with him to shop for anything at all, he always has to be the person in front when you walk because he’s the one pushing the cart with his left hand while his right is tightly interlocked with yours

you just stray behind him, pointing out all the things you’d like and he’s the one who decides if it’s worth to buy because you’re absolutely sure that you’d be dead broke if you were left alone

akaashi: this hoodie looks cute, do you wanna try it out

you, recalling the four sweatshirts you haven’t returned to him: nah i have enough

sometimes you’d get in the cart whenever the grocery store you’re in is mega big and he’s just gonna have the most unbothered face as people eye him because he’s pushing a fucking cart with a person in it

you’d get worried though thinking that you’re too heavy for him to push around so you insist to get off but he just doesn’t let you because you were so cute and 😤

akaashi is just so frickin soft when it comes to you like most of the time when someone idly mentions your name a smile immediately comes up to his face and he doesn’t even realize it

he also almost always wake up to numerous snaps of you at 3 in the morning just doing the most random things

he goes through them with such a silly grin and has to fight the urge to screenshot all of them cause u were so FRICKEN cute

akaashi, looking at a photo of you with tears down your face from 4 am: that’s my baby 👉👈

everyone around y’all are just on the fence about the two of you dating since neither of you really cleared what was going on ???

you were scared to call him your boyfriend because there was never really a discussion about it and you didn’t want to come off as assuming

but one afternoon right before he left when he dropped you off at your house, he just stopped and looked at you and you were so confused

akaashi, taking off his sweatshirt and giving it to you: the news said it gets cold tonight

you, on the verge of tears: oh 🥺

tsukishima kei

he’s a salty little shit who complains 24/7 and that’s about as canon as it gets

BUT but !!! if there’s anything tsukishima is good at and i mean anything !!! it’s being observant and keen on the people around him !!! ESP TO YOU !!!

at first you were always just kinda there ?

like he noticed your presence cause you shared classes with him and you were also at his practices a lot cause you and kiyoko would walk home together

so he knew of you but didn’t really know know you, yk?

but then one day yamaguchi came to him introducing you because apparently he’s the only one left on the team who hasn’t met you and it may or may not be because you were low key scared of him

it’s all good though cause once you two shook hands and talked he became more open to actually including you in his life

you guys made out to be good friends considering that you balanced out his snarky attitude with your even worse comebacks

like they weren’t really all that clever but it’s annoying enough to get him to shut up when you want him to

everyone on the team was super surprised at the fact that you were able to talk to tsukishima like that but also they were like: “please don’t ever stop???”

so you became from someone he barely realized was there to always looking for you first when he enters a room

yamaguchi: you know some people would call that having a crush 😗

and he’s all confused cause he knew that the possibility of him getting through high school without having a crush was very slim but jesus christ a crush on YOU??

tsukki, internally: god has favorites and it is not me 💔

but when he gets over the idea that it’s completely revolting to like you like that he realizes something click and suddenly it wasn’t an annoying idea to see you romantically

so in full tsukishima style he asks you out and was pretty surprised when you said yes but you weren’t cause he wasn’t even mildly subtle at hiding his intentions

you: does this mean you won’t be mean to me anymore 🥺

tsukki: no but that’s a nice try ❤️

even when the two of you started dating, he didn’t really want anything to change cause he liked the dynamic he had with you

he was very relieved that you weren’t easily offended and you didn’t really get on his nerves a lot

you guys were hot heads but you also respected each other 🥺

something you quickly became accustomed to after dating though is being codependent when it came to sleeping

you’re usually always over at each other’s houses and his mom is totally over the moon at the fact that his son found someone like you

so every afternoon after school you two are at either houses and just chilling and vibing because school do be very tiring tho

most of the time naps happen and even if it is super hot outside and you’re on the verge of a heat stroke, you just can’t get comfortable unless you’re touching him yk?

tsukishima’s probably the same since he really likes it when his leg is over yours or when his arm is touching your arm

you, under a blanket against tsukki’s back in extremely warm weather: it’s hot

tsukki, sweating: yeah

you: so anyways

he didn’t even realize how much he’s used to you being there when he falls asleep that at night when he actually needs to rest and you’re not anywhere near him he just can’t ???

tsukishima, snapping you a picture of him with tired eyes at 2 in the morning: you ruined my life

you, just as tired, quickly replying: uno reverse card bitch

so it’s 2 am and neither of you can fall asleep and it’s just an entire frenzy of tiring yourselves out

the two of you end up facetiming and just talking endlessly about random thoughts and perspectives on people

his voice is 100% groggy and every 2 minutes he’s yawning but he really likes it when he’s talking to you because it’s always better when it’s you in the mix

he’s telling you all about how he thinks dinosaurs are super cool and fantastic that when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep he’s just like 🥺

he stares at the screen for a while, suddenly regretting that he wasn’t there to make sure you were comfortable

he’s got the softest smile on and he doesn’t even care that he’s staring at you while you’re asleep cause you just looked so peaceful and warm and sweet

tsukki: that’s my baby 🥺

he feels another yawn come up and he ends the call, hoping that the tone won’t wake you up when he does

at this point he’s also on the verge of falling asleep and he’s very glad that he talked to you because you always knew how to get him out of things like this

tsukki, texting you: thanks for falling asleep on me SNAKE

tsukki: love you, gn <3

[mandoalorian]

Return of the Jedi [Max Lord x gn!Reader]

Summary: You and Alistair are heartbroken when you find out opening week tickets for Return of the Jedi have sold out. So Maxwell calls an old friend and organises a special surprise for his little family.

Warnings: food mention

Word count: 2000>

Author’s note: I received a request to write a Maxwell Lord x neurodivergent!Reader from @smoldjarin . They provided me with so much information in regards to autism, stimming, hyperfixations and more. I had so much joy writing this and I hope you find joy in reading it too. I couldn’t have done this without Melissa. I just hope I done it justice. (PS— I wanted to include Melissa’s love for Star Wars in this. I think we all, as Pedro stans, love Star Wars).

Maxwell wanted to pull his hair out. He had no idea what you and Alistair were yapping on about, but, evidently, it was something you both felt very passionate about. He’d seen you enthusiastic like this before, sure, but this was the first time he’d ever seen Alistair so hyped up. His brown eyes were gleaming as he hopped up and down.

“He literally said ‘I am your father!’ you laughed and Alistair let out a long groan.

“Yeah but he’s the bad guy! And the bad guys always lie,” Alistair explained — and that statement alone was enough to make Maxwell frown. ‘The bad guys always lie’ ... Ironic, to say the least. But, Alistair did make an excellent point. “I don’t trust him.”

You giggled and pulled Alistair into your lap. You’d never found it easy, touching people and being so close to them, but Alistair has grown to be an exception. He was like a son to you.

“Well, I suppose all will be revealed next week.” you told the ebony haired boy, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You and Alistair got along really well, and Maxwell couldn’t be more grateful, but it was the moments when you both babbled on about Star Wars that had him feeling the most clueless. Granted, he hadn’t found the chance to sit through the movies, but he wanted to because he knew how much it meant to you and his son.

He was also made blissfully aware that the third and final instalment of the trilogy was being released next week, because you and Ali couldn’t stop talking about it. Even in the moments when Alistair wasn’t there, you expressed your excitement to Maxwell. He found it endearing though. He loved it when you talked about your interests and current hyper-fixations. Which is why his heart broke when you read the Friday morning paper and found out all the tickets for opening week were sold out.

Max, despite having no interest in Star Wars, was devastated when he saw the look on your face. He especially didn’t want to be the person who had to break the bad news to Alistair.

“I was really looking forward to it.” You mumbled sadly, your eyes fixated on your cereal. You only had a little left to eat, but truthfully, you’d lost all appetite. These movies and this franchise meant the absolute world to you, and now no doubt you’d have the final movie spoiled for you at work or by the television.

“Oh darling,” Maxwell hummed, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you tight. You relished in his warmth and found yourself getting lost in the comforting scent of his sweet musk cologne. “I know. And I’m sorry,” the silence between you both broke his heart. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll fix this.”

You weren’t sure how he could possibly fix this. There were simply no more seats available in the movie theatres. He couldn’t just spawn in more seats. What Maxwell Lord did have though, was power, influence and money— and when he put his mind to something, he was sure to get it done. You had never met anyone more determined than him.

He didn’t want to leave you that morning, but duty called and he had to go to work. You tried your hardest to push through the day, ignoring this morning’s revelation. You opted to meet up with a friend at the park, and got ice cream. But when you’re friend told you they’d got tickets, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. You deserved these tickets. It just wasn’t fair.

Maxwell was struggling to focus on his work too. He was running out of bright ideas, but he didn’t just want his statement from this morning to be another empty promise. He actually wanted to fix this. He’d do anything to make you and Alistair happy.

Then it struck him. If his life was a kids cartoon, an illuminated lightbulb would’ve popped above his head. He buzzed his assistant, Raquel, into his office.

“Mr. Lord?” she smiled, walking towards his pine wood desk. Maxwell combed his fingers through his golden locks of hair and looked up at the blonde girl.

“Do I know anyone who is in the uh— the new Star Wars movie?” He inquired.

Raquel was expecting some question about the latest oil numbers, or a request for more supplements — so to say she was taking aback by her boss’ query was an understatement.

She thought for a moment. “Well, Harrison Ford has been a long time investor for Black Gold. He attended last year’s charity gala. Do you remember?”

Of course Maxwell remembered. How could one forget about being in the presence of Hollywood A-Lister Harrison Ford? “Harrison’s in Star Wars?” Maxwell quizzed, trying to hide his piqued curiosity. “Bring me his number. I have to make a call.”

———

Maxwell was so excited to get home and share the good news with you and Alistair. You greeted him just as you normally did, with a loving embrace and a gentle kiss.

“How was your day sweetheart?” your boyfriend asked, smoothing out your hair.

You shrugged. “Fine I s’pose,” you told him. “How was work?”

Maxwell’s grin only grew. “Bring Alistair in.” he beamed.

You called for the boy who had been playing with his action figures in his bedroom. His mom had dropped him off about an hour before Maxwell got home. You and Ali snuggled into each other on the crushed velveteen sofa as Maxwell paced backwards and forwards. It wasn’t nervous pacing though, he was bubbling with anticipation.

“I hope you’re all excited for tomorrow night,” Maxwell began, before flashing three pristine Return of the Jedi tickets before yours and Alistair’s eyes. “Because I met with my good friend Han Solo for lunch and he has given us access to a private screening on Sunday night. So we get to see the movie before the rest of the world.”

You felt like you were in a dream. He’d done it. He’d actually fixed it. You didn’t know how and you knew better than to question him, but it didn’t matter because he somehow managed to fix this and it was all to you and Alistair. You’d found it so hard to find someone who loved you for you, who didn’t mind your stims and who encouraged your hyperfixations. But Maxwell was that man and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had gotten.

Alistair bounced up and jumped on his dad, almost knocking him over in the process. Maxwell wrapped his arms around the six year old and picked him up.

“Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!” he squealed, unable to contain his ecstatic grin. “I had no idea you were friends with Han Solo!”

Maxwell smiled. “Oh yeah, me and Han go way back. I used to co pilot with him on the—“ Maxwell paused for a second as he tried to recall what Harrison told him. He had to get this right. “—Millennium Falcon?”

Both yours and Alistair’s jaw dropped. Gods, he was good at this. Maxwell may have been a brilliant businessman but he was an even better father.

“Does that mean you know Luke and Leia too?” Alistair asked.

“Oh yes.” Maxwell nodded, despite having no idea who Luke and Leia were.

“And Chewbacca?”

Chewbacca? Maxwell thought. What kind of name was that? Never the less he smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And Artoo and Threepio?”

Maxwell blinked. “Yep.” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Wow daddy,” Alistair hummed, snuggling into his dad’s chest. “I’m so excited.”

Maxwell dropped Alistair the ground and kneeled to his level. “You should put on your jammies and have an early night. That way, tomorrow will come around quicker.”

“Okay!” Alistair agreed enthusiastically before running back into his bedroom.

“And remember Ali!” Maxwell called. He cleared his throat and pointed his finger. “I am your father.”

That was it. That was the last straw. You’d tried your hardest to hold back your laughter as Max humoured his son, but seeing your boyfriend do a Darth Vader impression was something else.

Max sighed and sat down next to you, pulling your body into his lap. “I love you so much, my dear.”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you too. I can’t believe you did all of this.” you revealed.

“I always keep my promises.” he replied with the most genuine smile.

———

The movie was a success, and even Maxwell enjoyed it, which was very unexpected.

“I can’t believe Darth Vader was telling the truth,” Alistair sighed, exasperated. It had been a long day for sure, and his cheeks were still rosy with excitement. “I’m so glad Darth Vader isn’t my dad.”

Maxwell tutted.

“But he turned good in the end,” You smiled, taking Ali’s hand. “He saw what truly mattered. He had to save his son.”

Yeah, the parallels between Vader and Luke and Maxwell and Alistair were interesting to say the least.

“Daddy, who was your favourite character?” Alistair asked.

Maxwell thought for a moment. “I liked that guy in the green armour, he was cool. He sorta reminds me of, well, me.”

“Boba Fett?” Alistair quirked an eyebrow. “Oh daddy, no one is as cool as Boba Fett.”

Maxwell feigned a gasp. “Not even your old

man?”

Alistair giggled and rolled his eyes. “I liked the Ewok!” he announced and then tugged on your hand. “Who did you like?”

“I like Leia,” you beamed. “She’s strong and beautiful...”

“Just like you.” Maxwell whispered, brushing his

lips against yours.

The night came to an end and you couldn’t have been happier. As you lay in bed, you thanked Maxwell for all he had done. He was truly the best boyfriend in the world. He loved you so much, and he swore in that moment, as you fell asleep in his arms, that the next promise he’d make would be a promise to himself.

He was going to marry you.

———

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[nbrook29]

Kiss or Slap part 2

part 1

Robbe stands in front of the mirror, eyes critical as he assesses the forest green shirt, plucking at the collar that’s digging uncomfortably into his neck. It’s not like the shirt is ugly; the problem is that it’s not and that it looks a bit too formal. But then again, Robbe wouldn’t know for sure since he’s never been on a real date before. He’s feeling a bit helpless in that area, to be honest.

He has a half a mind to text the boys and ask for advice, but just as the thought passes his brain he scoffs because it’s just silly; the only thing he would gain from doing that would be merciless teasing for weeks on end. Thanks, but no thanks.

Sighing, he glances in the direction of the hall, debating with himself whether asking for Zoe’s opinion is the right option here, but deep down he knows that otherwise, he’s gonna be standing i front of that mirror agonizing over his appearance for the next twenty minutes if someone doesn’t talk some sense into him.

The way Zoe’s eyes widen in surprise when he enters her room lets him know that yes, he is overdressed. 

“Too much?” He scrunches up his face, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Well, I mean... you look really nice, but, um, maybe go for a t-shirt instead?” Zoe suggests, looking almost apologetic. Robbe hovers in the threshold, still not totally convinced.

“Yeah?” 

“You clearly feel uncomfortable in that, plus he’s not taking you to an expensive restaurant or something so I think you should just go for chill,” she pauses, trying to remember something. “That pink t-shirt you have? You look really cute in it! You should wear that.”

“I don’t wanna look cute, Zoe, I wanna look hot,” Robbe blurts out, pink blooming on his cheeks when Zoe coos at him in that annoying way she always does and he immediately covers his face. “Stop.”

She giggles at his embarrassment, patting his arm consolingly as she pretends to give him a once over. “You do look hot, no matter what shirt you’re wearing.”

“Yuck, that sounds weird coming from you.” Robbe fake-gags and gets a smack on his chest. “I’m outta here, thanks.” Before he manages to close the door, Zoe catches his arm and shoots him a comforting smile.

“And calm down. He’s already into you, he won’t care what you’re wearing, Robbe.”

It’s easier said than done. Ever since he woke up, he’s been a giddy, anxious, yet excited mess, butterflies flying rampant in his stomach, fingers drumming absent-mindedly on the nearest surface, and he’s-

Well.

He’s been kinda freaking out.

Somehow (he has no idea how), he managed to keep his cool during that faithful afternoon a week ago when a boy came up to him with a dumb YouTube challenge, he’d even call himself flirty and bold. 

He’s not so sure he’ll be able to provide a repeat performance tonight. Not with that particular charming smile directed at him, almost making him whimper because no one should have the right to be that handsome. At the time, the infatuation was laced with disappointment and anger so Robbe guesses that’s what helped him keep his cool.

Only to melt into a pile of goo minutes later when Sander’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment over what popped on his phone screen.

Bambie eyes

Robbe smiles at the memory, trying to keep it small and not look like a psychopath that’s grinning to himself for no reason. It proves to be difficult though, those damn butterflies not easing out when an image of Sander combing his fingers through his longish bleached strands pops into his mind, uninvited, but oh so welcome if Robbe’s being honest.

Back in his bedroom, he fishes out the pink t-shirt from the drawer, sending a thank you to the past Robbe who finally did his laundry last Wednesday. His comfort level is up immediately after he takes the green shirt off and pulls the pink one over his head; the material doesn’t dig in anywhere, and it’s just... him. He doesn’t feel like a clown anymore. 

A quick look at his watch and he curses under his breath. If he doesn’t want to be late, he needs to leave in five minutes tops. It’s probably better this way since it means less time for freaking out. Once he sprays a bit of cologne on his clothes and grabs his wallet, he gives himself one last look in the mirror, fingers attempting to tame his curls at least a little, but it proves to be a lost cause. As usual. His hair just has a mind of its own. He doesn’t let himself obsess too much about it though, and as he closes the door behind the flatshare his mind wanders to two weekends ago, the corners of his lips twitching on their own.

  “You look like an angel with those curls. I should get you a halo or s’mthing.”

He’s in his personal space all of a sudden and as Sander’s breath grazes his face, Robbe’s own breath stutters, but the freakout has no time to breakthrough on his features because Sander’s eyes swivel up, glazed with alcohol as he tugs gently at one of the brown strands.

“I really like ‘em, you know? They’re so... silky. And pretty.” A lightbulb goes on in his head, his lips widening in a smile. “You’re so pretty.”

 Drunken confessions never really seemed particularly sweet to him, but with Sander gazing at him like he hung the moon and the stars, his jaw slightly open as if in wonder, it was difficult for Robbe to feel anything else than fondness, heart fluttering in his chest, so enamoured with the boy with white hair that it would have blushed if it could.

That white hair and green eyes have been the main stars of his dreams ever since.

Okay. That’s not entirely true. There were glimpses before that. After all, Sander had been the first thing he noticed at the Academie. But at the time, he had only been his looks to Robbe, golden skin and intriguing smirks, face scattered with moles and legs for days. 

And lips. Lips that looked soft like a rose petal.

He had dreamed about those lips a lot then.

He still can’t believe his brain holds the memory of kissing them with his own. 

Again. Peak boldness for him.

And yet, he’s so nervous now, walking fast-paced to the nearest tram stop, praying his chaotic energy won’t make him look like an idiot once he’s faced with Sander again. His only saving grace, the only reason the full on freakout seems to be kept at bay is the reminder that even though Sander is way out of his league, he’s also a bit of a dork, and that honestly makes Robbe feel better. 

He’s a hot dork though.

But a dork nonetheless.

Deep down Robbe hopes he’s gonna become his dork. 

The city passes behind the window in a whirlwind of colors, creating the perfect background for him to get lost in his thoughts, daydreaming to the sounds of the playlist crafted specifically for him, courtesy of Sander. As Bowie sings about absolute beginners, a notification ping pulls him back from his musings, lips smiling on their own when he sees Sander posted a photo.

And what a photo it is, fuck.

A part of his face, edges smudged with shadows leaving only his eye in focus, dark eyebrow curtained a little with wet bleached strands, everything in black and white aesthetics because Sander rarely does colors, Robbe came to find out. 

  With eyes completely open

But nervous all the same

 He wonders if the lyrics relate to their date or it’s just his wishful thinking.

Quick fingers like the photo and then take a screenshot of his own Spotify to send it to him. Robbe doesn’t have to wait long for the reply, a string of “🤯” blowing up his phone followed by “I’m so proud 🤧”, which again confirms that Sander is, indeed, a dork. 

Robbe shoots him a “😂” and scrolls up a bit to check the address again.

 Robbe: I watched the video

Robbe: It was cool 😎 

Sander: Oh yeah? 

Robbe: But somebody cut me out of it 🤔🙄 

Sander: I told them to, it was too personal 😌 

Robbe: Oh 🙃 

Sander: + You're too pretty for our dumb videos 🤷🏼‍♂️ 

Robbe: 🙈 stop 

Sander: You are 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: You're making me blush 🙊 

Sander: Well good, you're cute when your cheeks are all pink 😏 

Robbe: 🤪 

Sander: But you're always cute so 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: Okay stop haha 

Sander: 😎 

Robbe: Thank you tho 😊 

Sander: You're welcome x

Sander: Now go to sleep, I need you to be rested for tomorrow! 

Robbe: Tell me where we're going 🥺 

Sander: Nope 

Robbe: Please 🥺 

Sander: Nope 😌 

Robbe: How should I know you're not gonna kidnap me or sth 🤔 

Sander: Robin! I would never! 😟😟 

Robbe: Robin? 

Sander: Yeah

Sander: You like it? :) 

Robbe: I think so :)

Sander: Good 😌

Sander: Oranje Street, that's all you need to know 

Sander: Goodnight Bambi Robin 🦌😏 

Robbe: Shdjskahaggfdsk 🙈🙈 

Sander: Hehe

Sander: 😚 

Robbe: 😊

 The Robin part pulls another involuntary grin out of him again, the jitters in his stomach intensifying, but now they’re more anticipatory than nervous. He checks his hair in his selfie camera, running a hand through it to mess it up a little just when his stop comes. 

The neighborhood is busy with the Friday rush and he has trouble finding white hair in the crowd from where he’s leaning on the lantern. Swaying awkwardly he keeps looking around, feeling his stress levels raising with each second and telling himself to get a fucking grip. 

“Hey, Robin.”

His poor heart just can’t catch a break today. 

Jumping a foot above the ground before swiveling around to smack Sander’s chest, the first thing he sees is his toothy grin, face smug at almost giving Robbe a heart attack.

“Asshole.” His grumble is all for show, the corners of his mouth pulling up when Sander presses a soft hello kiss to his cheek.

“Sorry, didn’t wanna scare you.” He could win awards for least sincere apologies ever, but Robbe would lie to himself if he said he didn’t find his playfulness attractive. Also, he’s still trying to get his heartbeat under control that has less to do with actual scare and more with the warm breath grazing his ear and the fanthom feel of lips on his cheek.

“Sure you didn’t.”

Sander chuckles at his deadpan face that lets him know Robbe knows he’s full of shit. Raising his arms in capitulation, he says another sorry before giving him a not so subtle once over, his features softening.

“You look really pretty.” 

His voice sounds uncharacteristically shy, Robbe notices, and he keeps biting his lip nervously. This sudden shyness looks exceptionally endearing on him.

Eyeing his t-shirt critically, he cocks his brow at Sander, hand scratching his head in a self-conscious move. “Thank you. It’s nothing special though.”

“Then I guess it’s just you,” Sander replies, shrugging matter-of-factly, and keeps giving him that charming smile that weakens Robbe’s knees. 

But he still rolls his eyes on him, snorting as he mutters “smooth” to which Sander pretends to hold his chest dramatically, swearing it’s not a line and that he’s being honest.

“Okay, okay, let’s say I believe you,” Robbe gives in after being defeated with a strong case of puppy eyes. “Now come on, tell me where we’re going.”

The faux-serious expression on Sander’s face melts into a full of promise smirk. “Prepare to be mind blown!”

And then he takes off, firing a wink over his shoulder at Robbe who’s gaping at him, flabbergasted. This mixture of confidence and shyness taking turns emanating from Sander has a peculiar effect on him, making him follow the boy without another question. He’s intrigued, curious to find out what’s underneath this cockiness that Robbe has a feeling is all for show, a cover up, but for what he has no clue. 

They fall into an easy conversation on the way to their destination, interrupted with a string of Robbe’s guesses as to what that destination is and Sander shooting him down everytime, his smile getting fonder with each pout directed at him. So far it’s been way less awkward than Robbe feared, familiar almost, safe, melting away the anxious lump in his stomach. The good-natured teasing reminding Robbe of his relationship with Zoe or Milan, only the furtive yet lingering glances they keep shooting at each other when they think the other is not looking the sign of this being more than just a friendly hangout.

“Any plans for the Eenvoud sequel?” They’re crossing the street when Sander asks the question, tongue in cheek, which makes Robbe scowl in disdain. Even though internally he’s pleased Sander went and looked him up online. He was less pleased with the teasing that ensued a few days ago.

  Sander: I had no idea 

Robbe: ? 

Sander: That I'm going on a date with a star 

Robbe: 😂 what 

Sander: Music star 😏

Sander: Or should I say

Sander: Dance star 🤔 

Robbe: Oh fuck 

Sander: You're v e r y talented Robbe IJzermans 

Robbe: Shut uuuuuup 

Sander: 😂 

Robbe: You weren't supposed to see that 😭 

Sander: Why not? You're so cute in it 😌 

Robbe: 🙈

Robbe: Please don't hold it against me 

Sander: Never :) 

Robbe: You're gonna hold it against me aren’t u 

Sander: A bit :D 

Robbe: 🥺 

Sander: But in a loving way! 

Robbe: Guess I have to now go and find blackmail material on your channel 😌 

Sander: As if you hadn't already 😏 

Omg you're so full of yourself 🙄 

Sander: 😛 

Robbe: Should I be expecting hoards of fans throwing themselves at you when we're out? 

Sander: Haha no

Sander: Maybe a few ;) 

Robbe: Great, now I'm even more nervous :( 

Sander: Why are you nervous? 🥺

Sander: Are you nervous about our date?  

Robbe: Well um 

Robbe: A bit? 

Sander: I'm nervous too

Sander: But that's because I wanted to go out with you since I saw you on campus the first day

Robbe: I wanted that too

Sander: Oh 😌

Robbe: Yeah :)

 “Fuck off,” he barks out a laugh, shoving him without much force once they’re back on the sidewalk. Sander pretends to be offended with the attack, huffing and shaking his head, but then bumps him with his hip all the same, smug when Robbe splutters in indignance in turn.

“Keep this up and I’m gonna rethink my forgiveness.” Robbe’s tone is lofty, even if his eyes scream he’s just teasing, an attempt to rile Sander up. 

The boy’s eyes widen comically, hand flying to his chest. “You wouldn’t do that to me, Robin.” 

There’s that nickname again, making his breath catch again, and the only response he can manage now is a flirty smile, or at least something that is supposed to look like it. 

The afternoon heat subsides on their way to Sander’s mysterious place, but Robbe’s still glad he left that green long-sleeved shirt at home when they slow down and Sander turns to him with an expectant look.

“Carnival?”

“I didn’t remember you giving me your number, but I did remember your preaching about cotton candy being the superior junk food,” Sander rushes with an explanation like he feels his choice needs a proper justification. “And it just so happened that a carnival came to Antwerp this weekend. I thought it was a sign?” He scratches his nose, his stance a little unsure as he awaits Robbe’s reaction.

His eyes grow bigger with each passing second until Robbe beams at him and tells him how much he likes the idea. Sander lets out a loud phew, face relieved when they enter the area. The place is packed, but that’s okay because Robbe loves the vibe and how close Sander keeps walking next to him because of it. The loud music is not the best for talking, but they soon find other things to do, marching from booth to booth, getting drinks and trying out silly games, the teasing competitiveness quickly coming out. Sander really wants to win a plushie for him, but he fails spectacularly, his sulking remedied only by a kiss on his cheek. 

Robbe eats his weight in cotton candy, childlike joy on his face while Sander watches amused and keeps calling him cute. The Ferris Wheel was supposed to be their next stop, but when it turns out it's out of service, Sander shoots him a desperate look, apologizing for this lame outcome like it's his fault. But Robbe is having so much fun he barely cares they lost their chance at a kiss on the top, knows the night's still young and they'll get their chance somewhere else.

They try out a few other things, laughing and having a great time together before Sander gets weirdly quiet.

"Do you, um, do you think we can go sit down for a bit? To talk?" Sander keeps avoiding his eyes as he asks, but Robbe doesn't miss the flicker of vulnerability in his face, and he feels his heart jump in his chest. He's a bit taken aback at this gear change, but Sander's clearly bothered with something and he wants to be there for him so he just hums and follows him to the bench outside.

"There's something you need to know."

Robbe steals himself for the worst, muscles tensing as he holds his breath.

“I’m bipolar,” Sander finally blurts out, and Robbe’s heart breaks for the insecurity in his eyes, eyes that are now darting all over his own face, trying to be furtive, yet clearly assessing his reaction. “I just-, I want to be straight with you from the get go cause I feel like this may be going somewhere and I don’t want to lie, or, omit anything.” He pauses, frowning a little as he looks down, and something awfully similar to a broken heart shadows his features. “I don’t ever want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Robbe doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, but Sander misinterprets the silence.

“It’s, um, it’s okay if you don’t wanna get involved with me now or something, I get it, I’m a lot to handle.” Scratching his head awkwardly, his lips morph into a wistful smile, and Robbe knows he needs to put a stop to these thoughts.

“Hey,” he starts softly, waiting until Sander’s ready to direct his eyes back on him. When he does, he shoots a smile at him of his own, but there’s nothing wistful about it. If it matches what he feels, Robbe’s quite sure it’s close to adoration, actually. “Thank you for telling me.” Sander takes a deep breath, sitting straight as if he’s preparing for a rejection. “My mom has schizophrenia, you know?”

Green eyes blink up at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Robbe lets his smile widen. “And she’s an amazing mom. She just-, struggles sometimes, and there are days that are really shit days. But I can’t imagine her not being here. Because she’s amazing. And I love her. With or without a mental illness.” He presses his thigh against Sander’s, trying to ease his nervousness as he continues. “I still want to give us a shot. Cause, um, I think that, um, well, you’re really hot, I mean cool, I meant cool, well...” Why does he have to be so awkward? He peaks at Sander after his unfortunate little slip and feels his cheeks flush under his small grin. 

“You think I’m hot?”

Robbe whines in protest because now Sander’s just being a little shit, torturing him even though he knows exactly what his stammering means. 

He hides his face in his hands. “Obviously, since I’m on a date with you, smartass.” 

“It’s always nice to hear.” Sander nudges their shoulders and it makes Robbe look up, just in time for a wink. “Especially from a cutie like you.” He holds his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips, and as Robbe gets drowned in his green eyes, distracted, Sander lifts his hand to push a few locks away from his forehead. The brief contact of his fingertips with Robbe’s skin is enough to raise goosebumps on his skin, and he really hopes Sander didn’t notice, that he doesn’t know how gone he is for him already.

He already mourns the lack of contact when Sander pulls away, something akin to shyness on his face now as he’s fiddling with his fingers, and it’s comforting to see he’s not the only one around here being affected.

It’s what gives him the guts to do what he does next, without second-guessing himself again into a spiral. He gets up off the bench and takes Sander’s hand in his own, their fingers tangling right away like it’s their second nature, and nods in the direction of the sidewalk.

“Come on, I’ll show you my favorite spot around here.”

The initial surprise at Robbe’s bold move is quickly replaced with a beaming smile as Sander squeezes his hand gently and gets up too, laughing when Robbe bumps their shoulders teasingly because hey, he’s still a teenage boy and sometimes likes to act like it. Also, he needs to do something to distract himself from the fact that he’s holding Sander’s hand. The fact he can feel a thumb softly grazing his knuckles, almost absent-mindedly, does not help. He'd think their playfulness and cheek kisses would make it all easier for him, and yet here he is.

He’s feeling carefree and drunk on his feelings and this evening and Sander’s smile and when they get close to the spot, Robbe sets his hand free and jogs over to the small ice cream booth, turning around to do a small “taa-daa!” with a big grin. Sander’s laugh at his shenanigans is music to his ears and he loves how the previous frown is now officially gone from his face, features softening instead, eyes twinkling as he calls Robbe a dork, entwining their hands anew the second he’s in his close proximity. Robbe scoots even closer, like an invisible magnet is pulling them together, getting lost in his presence, the smell of his aftershave that carries notes of citrus and something woodsy, masculine, combined with the intoxicating scent of Sander’s leather jacket. The air changes around them, gets charged with tension, Sander’s face changes too, green eyes darting to Robbe’s lips that get dry under attention, and he licks them subconsciously. Just when Tiana Major9’s voice coming from the booth speaker sings when they collide, it’s a beautiful disaster, their faces tilt towards each other, Sander’s hand reaching up as if to cup Robbe’s cheek.

Robbe barely contains his whine when a loud crash from the booth ruins the moment, catching the same frustration on Sander’s face in the corner of his eye. The loaded silence is buzzing in his ears, nerves picking up and he feels awkward again, not sure whether he should just go for it or wait for a better moment. 

Sander’s chuckle brings him back from his overthinking, smiles crookedly down at him. “Come on, you gotta tell me your favorite flavor.”

His tone is light like the almost-kiss didn’t happen, but the subtle pink at the high of his cheeks gives him away. It looks like the world’s most exquisite blush, blended perfectly with the shade of his skin that has already been painted light golden with the early summer sun rays. It distracts him for a moment, his gaze stuck as his eyes wander slowly from one mole to another, lingering on his lips that are just as inviting as they were a few seconds ago, tempting Robbe to make that move, but then he feels Sander taking his hand again, this time interlacing their fingers and pulling him out of his trance.

Robbe is a vanilla guy and he can see the joke at the hip of Sander’s tongue, but thankfully, the boy refrains from the comment, the huge eyeroll he receives probably stopping him in his tracks, and he only gnaws on his lip, trying to keep the laughter in. He goes for mango, which yuck. Sander doesn’t appreciate his reaction, and they easily slip in the previous banter, ending with him smearing a bit of the ice cream on Robbe’s cheek, lips sucked in as he giggles quietly at his scandalized face.

“You’re such a fucker!” He immediately gets him back for that and they’re close to full on ice cream fight until Sander yells truce, hands protecting his face from the onslaught of Robbe’s sticky hands. Robbe smiles triumphantly at his capitulation, and goes back to licking away at what’s left of his treat.

“It kinda fits you.”

They’ve been strolling along the river for a while now, the full moon shining its light on the side of Sander’s face, making his hair look icy white.

“What?

“The mango flavor.”

Sander furrows his brows in question, waiting for an explanation. Robbe shrugs a little, eyes tracing the soft ripples on the water as he tries to find the right words.

“Mangos have a hard peel, but have a soft inside.”

“Sooo, you’re saying I’m… mushy?” Sander wrinkles his nose at his words and it’s a truly adorable sight.

“No, I’m saying you can seem, um, intimidating and unapproachable, unattainable.” His eyebrows furrow more with each adjective. “But once you get to the inside, so once someone gets to know you, you’re none of these things,” Robbe pauses, swaying their joined hands a little as he peeks at Sander’s face. “You’re nice and sweet and stuff. Even with your edgy black and white aesthetics,” he adds as the second-thought, grinning when he gets a deadpan look in return. It quickly morphs into something softer, beautifully confirming Robbe’s words.

“Okay, let’s say I’m a mango man. In that case, you’re a cutie pie,” Sander says matter-of-factly, always needing to have the last word, and Robbe can only laugh helplessly, trying not to combust under his intense glance. “Also, my black and white aesthetics are amazing, by the way.”

Robbe doesn't dare to argue with that, and he also agrees with the statement so he admits as much, making Sander very pleased. 

They walk way into late hours of the evening, huddling closer together with each passing hour in search of warmth against the coldness of the night, or at least that serves as the main excuse. Sander has him bursting in fits of giggles sharing crazy stories from his shopping assistant job and Robbe finds himself opening up about his videotaping passion, a little shy when knowing about Sander's photography skills, but the boy's eyes shine bright when Robbe mentions it, and he's so attentive and interested in everything he has to say on the topic, of the small details he geeks out about that it makes fuzzy feelings swim rampant in his stomach; it's the kind of attention he's been unknowingly yearning for, and here it is, served on a golden plate and in a package so beautiful it makes him swoon.

And he also walks him home, acting all gentlemanly and offering his jacket when the shivers shake Robbe's body a bit. What a catch.

“So, um,” Sander starts as they reach the front door of Robbe’s apartment building, his face mostly covered in shadows cast by the street lanterns. “Kiss or slap?”

The answer to the question is obvious for both of them, but Robbe can’t stop himself from teasing him a bit, scrunching up his face in a deep thought, eyebrows frowned, making Sander scoff impatiently, which is exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

Still, he needs to push him a bit more. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I should probably go with the slap for that ice cream incident.” Sander plays along, heaving a regretful sigh, before turning those pretty eyes on him, lips in a pout and hands put together in a praying motion.

“A kiss?” Bottom lip juts out and he’s just too cute for words, Robbe dropping his facade immediately, not stopping his beaming smile anymore.

He also can't fucking wait any longer.

“Okay, I gue-”

Soft lips crash into his, not letting him finish the sentence, Robbe’s clumsiness almost making him topple over, but Sander’s there to catch him, sure hands squeezing his hips and sending small shocks through his body. He rests his hand on the back of Sander’s neck, giving in to the need to bury his fingers in that messy blond hair, and he tugs, just a little, but it’s enough for Sander to sigh into his mouth and pull him closer. Robbe loves the reaction, whimpers quietly as he parts his lips just right for Sander’s tongue to slip inside, to tease at the soft skin inside of Robbe’s bottom lip. It’s all over after that, the kiss morphing from something soft and sweet to tongues sliding together, teeth clinking almost painfully in their desperation, the kiss tasting of mango ice cream and cotton candy, and it’s the best Robbe has ever tasted.

It’s better than he imagined, Sander’s hands caressing his sides as he slows down the kiss so sweet and tender, it pulls at every single one of his heartstrings. He can’t believe he has this wonder of a boy in his arms, kissing him so good, making him dizzy.

The kiss stops eventually, but they stay put, as close as before, the tips of their noses grazing against each other, warm breaths and fluttering lashes, fingernails scratching at the skin that’s covered in goosebumps.

“I have to go,” Robbe murmurs between the miniscule space between them, giggling quietly at the immediate frown his words cause.

“Nooooo.” Sander hides his face in his flushed neck, pressing a kiss there too because why not. “I need more kisses.”

And who is Robbe to tell him no, he goes willingly when Sander lifts his chin up for another one, his mouth a little puffy now. He lets him have it, not that it’s any hardship; he’d stay here all night, just lazily sliding their lips together in a never ending dance.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Sander asks when they break apart. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You know, he’s very important to me, has been in my life for years so his opinion kinda matters a lot.”

His words take Robbe aback, but he tries not to show his discomfort, even though Sander must have felt how tense his body went. He doesn’t seem to find it weird, his face still smiling as he keeps talking about this he that’s apparently so important.

“I hope he’ll like you. He’s perfect, you know?” Actually, Robbe does not know and he’s getting kinda annoyed. He’s pretty sure waxing lyrical about someone else on a date is a faux pas. “I mean, except for leaving fur on anything he touches.”

What.

Robbe’s eyes swivel up to look at him, the corners of Sander’s lips twitching and his face a picture perfect of impishness. He groans in protest, smacking his chest because Sander did it on purpose to pull a reaction out of him and it’s not fair, damn it. He crosses his arms which proves difficult to do when there are still hands firmly holding his hips, keeping him close.

Sander rests their forehead together, swaying them a little to put a smile on Robbe’s grumpy face. “He’s a Norwegian Forest breed and his name is Major Tom.”

And this time it’s Robbe who has a hard time to keep his giggle in because oh my god, what a nerd.

“I wonder where that came from,” he ponders in a voice as serious as he can manage, but Sander sees right through him, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“It’s the bestest name ever, I’ll have you know.”

He gets shut up with another kiss, last one, the sweetest out of all of them. Then, Robbe steps out of his embrace, not trusting himself to end this when Sander's hands are touching any part of his body, and tells him a quiet goodnight, backing into the front door with Sander's soft sleep well ringing in his ears and a huge smile threatening to spread on his face.

Sander: May your dreams be filled with cotton candy 🍬🍭

It only takes a minute for his phone to ping.

And maybe some mangos too 🥭

Robbe: Just need one 😘

White-haired mangos 😘

Goodnight ❤️

[scripts4dreamers]

When you know

AN: There’s nothing like getting drunk and singing karaoke to bring two people together. 

Characters: Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

Prompt: “Hey ! Can you do a spencer imagine about him bringing his crush to the bar with the team and they have a drunk karaoke night and he confesses his feelings for her ? 🥺”

------------------

By the time the phone finally rang, it was nearly 8pm and you’d drifted off into a restless sleep on the couch in your living room. The sound woke you up and you groaned at your empty apartment, fumbling around until you felt the cool metal against your skin.

“Mmhmm?” You hummed, still half asleep.

“Y/N?” Spencer said.

Your heart jumped at the sound of your friend’s voice. You’d been waiting for him to call all day but, when you glanced at the clock and saw how late it was, you decided that you couldn’t let him know that.

“Go away.”

Even through the phone you could hear Spencer shift his weight from one foot to the other, “Y/N/N I’m sorry-“

“No, stop it, I’m still mad at you,” you interrupted without any real malice, “you promised me dinner, Spencer Reid. It’s 8pm.”

“I had a case,” he laughed, “what did you expect me to do? Rush home before we were done?”

“No, that would be unreasonable,” you answered, rolling onto your back, “I expected you to do your job faster so that I wouldn’t have to spend hours wasting away in my apartment.”

“Wasting away?”

“Wasting away!” You repeated, “you should see me, Spence, I’m positively faint from hunger.”

He chuckled through the phone and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice slipping away. The thought made you smile. If there was anything you prided yourself on, it was your ability to make Spencer Reid smile. He may have been a genius, but you were funny so, if you think about it, who was the real winner?

“I’m serious!” You insisted, “I should take you to court, mister. I’ll have you know it’s illegal to keep a girl waiting like this on a Friday night.”

“I think your definition of illegal could probably use some brushing up,” Spencer teased, “and by the way? It’s doctor.”

“Oooooh I’m sorry,” you smiled, “Doctor.”

Spencer laughed again, and you felt a familiar tingle rush through your stomach. You’d known Spencer for quite some time now but, no matter how often you talked, there was something about his voice that always made you weak at the knees.

You’d met at a coffee shop near your house when he’d tripped over your bag and nearly turned your crisp white work shirt into a soggy, caffeinated mess. As it happened, the coffee had narrowly missed you, and you’d insisted on buying him a new one, forcing him to sit down and relax. You’d ended up talking for nearly an hour and, when you arrived the next day, Spencer was already there, with your coffee order in hand. After that, well, you’d been inseparable.

Spencer hummed, “How about I make it up to you? My friends and I are going out tonight, do you wanna come?”

You sat up, “Friends? What friends? Your crime fighting pals?”

You could practically hear him roll his eyes fondly, “You know we’re not technically crime fighters, we’re closer to detectives in the classic sense.”

“Okay, fine, your detective buddies. Either way I’m so there. Where should I meet you?” You replied.

As Spencer listed off the address you rushed to your room, searching the closet for something suitable to wear. You’d never met Spencer’s friends before and you knew you wanted to make a good impression.

—————————

When Spencer hung up, he was somewhere between nervous and excited. It had been too long since he’d seen you face-to-face and the idea of you being right there in front of him in less than twenty minutes was nearly intoxicating.

“She’s coming?” Morgan asked.

“He looks way too happy for her to have said no,” Prentiss smiled.

“Ooooo we get to meet her?” Garcia asked, clapping her hands with excitement.

“It’s about time,” Morgan agreed.

Spencer blushed, “You guys promised you’d be nice.”

“What? I’m nice!” Prentiss argued.

“Yeah, Reid, you've got nothing to worry about. We’ll all be on our best behavior around Lover Girl, I promise,” Morgan said, crossing his heart.

“Derek,” Garcia chided, slapping his arm softly, “her name is, Y/N and she’s about to become my new best friend.”

Spencer smiled as Morgan and Prentiss jumped in, each arguing as to why you were more likely to be their best friend. It comforted his nerves, knowing how much his friends already cared about you. It made sense, after all they’d been listening to him talk about you for months now. In fact, it was Garcia’s idea for him to go back to that coffee shop in the first place. He’d never been more nervous than he was that day, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and hoping you didn’t think he was an absolute creep for getting the order right.

Luckily, you hadn’t, and that had been the start of the most agonizing few months of his life. They were incredible, of course, because you were incredible, but he’d also never felt more out of his depth. He’d had crushes before but with you things felt different, more urgent somehow, like the clock was ticking his time with you away. Maybe it was because he knew he wasn’t right for you, that he worked too much and kept you waiting and never had enough time, and he was just waiting for you to get fed up with waiting on him. Maybe it was because you were so wonderful that it didn’t make sense for someone to not be crazy about you, someone who could give you everything you deserved, someone who definitely wasn’t Spencer. Either way, every moment he had with you was precious, which is why he’d waited so long to introduce you to the BAU. He may have been an adult but, in his heart, Spencer Reid was still an only child and he’d never been good at sharing.

His phone beeped.

Hey! I’m outside...come say hi?

“Shhh!” Spencer said, his heart jumping into his throat as he waved his arms around to silence his friends, “everyone shut up! She’s here.”

Garcia squealed, “Really?”

“Be cool, babygirl,” Morgan smiled, “what are you waiting for, Lover Boy? Go get her!”

Spencer fought down a smile, “Okay, let’s go over the rules: no talking about work, no making her feel weird, no mentioning me talking about her, no inviting her to join the FBI for no reason and no embarrassing stories. Got it?”

“You’ve got it,” Prentiss promised, “like Morgan said, best behavior.”

Garcia looked like she was about to explode with excitement, but she nodded anyway and Morgan wrapped an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, giving Spencer a wink as he did.

“Deep breaths, kid,” he said softly, “it’s gonna be fine.”

Spencer nodded and pushed himself up out of the booth, shooting his friends a double thumbs up as he half walked, half jogged his way to the front of the bar.

When he saw you he froze for a second, his heart literally stuttering in his chest as he took you in. You were beautiful, the small part of his brain that was still functioning supplied, so beautiful that it actually hurt to look at you. He thought he’d be used to the way you made him feel by now but, whether it was the distance or some other magic unique to you, every single time still hit him like a ton of bricks and he was suddenly twelve years old again.

Just then you spotted him, and your face lit up with happiness, shocking Spencer back into action. You rushed over and pulled him close, letting him bury his face in your hair, breathe in your soft, fruity smell and relish in the sudden rush of comfort he felt being in your arms again.

“Spencer!” You cheered as you broke apart, holding onto his forearms and looking him up and down, “Oh my goodness, look at you! You look so nice.”

“Look at me? Look at you!” He responded, trying not to let on how hard he’d tried putting his outfit together, “Not bad for someone on the very brink of starvation.”

“Ah, you flatter me,” you joked, letting him go and adjusting your purse strap.

Spencer noticed the way you were shifting on your feet and fiddling with the hem of your jacket and he felt his heart pinch.

“Hey,” he said, “are you nervous?”

You laughed breathlessly, “That obvious, huh?” You smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know, I just want to make a good impression. This is your family, I want them to like me.”

Spencer bumped your shoulder with his, a rush of happiness bubbling up in his chest at the way you said family. He’d never told you that about the BAU, you’d just known. Just like you’d known a million little things about him that he’d never thought anyone would ever know. Just like you’d known on that first day that he needed someone to talk to. You just knew, and wasn’t that it’s own sort of genius?

“They’re gonna love you,” he assured, injecting sincerity into every word, “trust me.”

You nodded and took a deep breath in, steeling yourself against your nerves and forcing on a smile, “okay. I’m ready.”

And with that, Spencer walked you in. As soon as you stepped into the bar he felt your muscles tense. It was a small bar, cosy and warm, with a stage and a microphone set up for karaoke.

“It’s a karaoke bar?” You hissed, “You didn’t tell me it was a karaoke bar!”

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Spencer shrugged, “here we are.”

“Y/N!” Garcia greeted, jumping up, “Hi! I mean, hello! I’m Garci-Penelope! I’m Penelope!”

Spencer smiled as he felt your muscles relax and Garcia pulled you into a hug. You laughed, but responded just as enthusiastically.

“Hi! I-uh-I guess you all know my name then,” you grinned.

“Oh shoot,” Garcia said, “sorry, I broke a rule.”

Spencer shot her a panicked look, flushing bright red as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Don’t mind Garcia,” Prentiss cut in, rescuing Spencer from having to explain, “we're all just really glad to meet you. I’m Emily.”

She reached out to shake your hand and, with that, you took a seat next to Spencer and normal conversation resumed. Morgan and Garcia launched back into their banter while Emily asked questions about your job and when you’d moved to the city. It was easy and normal and...so, so strange.

Spencer was almost painfully aware of how close you were; your leg brushing his under the table, your shoulder nudging his with every little movement you made. He tried to stay focused on what was going on at the table, tried to follow the conversation and add value, but he couldn’t keep the stories straight. Time didn’t make sense anymore. Spencer was completely lost in the unbelievable happiness of having all the people he cared about in one place.

At some point during the night, an immeasurable amount of time later, Morgan bought drinks. That was a mistake. It was a mistake because now you were tipsy and your head was on his shoulder and Spencer thought his head might actually explode with the effort of not blurting out how much he liked you right then and there. You were laughing at something Emily had said, just chuckling like it was the most natural thing in the world and Spencer felt his heart literally swell.

“We should sing!” Garcia said suddenly.

You gasped, slapping Spencer’s thigh with excitement, your whole face lighting up like it was christmas.

“Yes! Yes yes yes! We should sing!” You agreed, “Don’t you think, Spence?? Don’t you think we should sing?”

Spencer laughed and shook his head, “No! No, I don’t sing. Trust me, you don’t want to hear that.”

“Pleeeeaaaaase?” You whined, turning to face him fully and fluttering your eyelashes, “please, Spence?”

Damn those eyes, he thought to himself, feeling his skin flush under the weight of your stare. Maybe this would be easier if he was drunk. He couldn’t say no to you at the best of times but, when you’re pouting at him like that, with full puppy dog eyes? Oh yeah, he was beyond putty in your hands. Spencer could practically taste Morgan’s smug look.

He rolled his eyes fondly, giving in to the inevitable, “What would we even sing?”

Somehow, your smile grew infinitely bigger and Spencer’s heart did that thing where it jumped into his throat and stuttered at the same time.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” You turned to Garcia, “Well? You coming, ‘Nel?”

“You betcha!” Garcia smiled, pulling you up and towards the stage.

At the last second you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s hand, laughing your head off as you went. His skin felt like it was on fire where you touched him, little shocks of electricity running through every inch of skin that touched yours. It was a little ridiculous really, how quickly Spencer lost his head when you touched him. All that genius, all those years of schooling sharpening his mind into a finely crafted machine and all he could think about was the feeling of skin on skin, and the smell of your hair.

The stage was sticky. The microphone was pitchy and jarring. Everything was way too much, and completely dull at the same time because all he could see was you. You and Garcia were hunched over a screen, laughing and talking as you picked a song. The music started and you grabbed the microphone, smiling over at him like it was nothing. Spencer knew he should be nervous, he should be hating every second of being up on stage in front of a group of strangers but, for some reason, he wasn’t. He was happy and calm and like ten other adjectives that almost never described him in the hours after a case, but that seemed to follow you around like a shadow.

You opened your mouth, too drunk to be properly singing, but still sober enough to be almost on key, “Here’s the thing, We started off friends-”

Garcia joined in, “It was cool but it was all prete-end, yeah yeah,”

“Since you been gone!”

You waved him over and Spencer followed, letting you point out the screen where the words appeared line by line. To be in front of the mic, Spencer had to lean in towards you and woah that’s close. He could count every single eyelash and see individual flakes of glitter against your skin, but he pushed the image down, tucking it away into the back of his mind somewhere for him to take out again when he was alone. All this happened in a split second, just long enough for Spencer to remember where he was and snap back into the present.

“You dedicated, you took the time,” The three of you sang together, trying to stifle laughter when Garcia tried to harmonize, “It wasn’t long before I called you mi-ine, yeah yeah, Since you been gone!”

You closed your eyes, throwing your head back as you sang and drawing Spencer in even closer.

“And all you’d ever hear me say Is how I picture me with you! That’s all you’d ever hear me say!”

You opened your eyes, turning to Garcia as the music swelled.

“But since you been gone! I can breathe for the fiiiiiirst tiiiiiiime, I’m so moving on, YEAH YEAH” you screamed together, even Spencer giving into the music for a moment, “Thanks to you! Now I get! I get what I waaaaaaaant! Since you been gone!”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and, when he did, you met his eye and followed suit, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laughed together, Spencer wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you up so that you could support Garcia as her back up singers. It was silly and goofy and fun, and Spencer didn’t really want it to end because it meant he could be close to you. It meant he had a reason to be close to you that wasn’t just his own selfishness and it felt like you wanted to be close to him too.

As the song came to an end and Garcia warbled out a final, “since you been gone”, Spencer found himself just looking at you, something thrumming just below the surface in his chest. His arm was still around your waist, just a friend supporting another friend, that’s all, totally innocent. Except that it wasn’t because he was looking at you like you were salvation and he could feel it happening, he just didn’t care. Because it was obvious, wasn’t it? It was obvious that he loved you. He’d maybe always loved you, ever since that day at the coffee shop and maybe that was okay. Maybe it was okay that he loved you even though he didn’t deserve you because, well, you knew him. You knew Spencer in a way that only one or two people in his entire life had ever known him and you still seemed to like him, you still looked at him like he was something special and precious.

Garcia pulled you both off the stage, bowing to the smattering of applause from the crowd and the whoops and hollers from the table where his friends were sitting. Instinctively, Spencer tugged you back, shooting Garcia an apologetic look, which she accepted with a nod and a subtle smile. His heart was in his throat but, when you turned and looked back at him, tilting your head in confusion, he felt sure.

“Hey-uh-can we-” he paused, smiling sheepishly as he felt himself flush, “can we talk, quickly?”

You frowned, concerned, but nodded and let him pull you aside, and Spencer loved you so much for it that he wanted to scream. Looking around, he managed to spy a somewhat empty corner of the bar, far enough away from the stage that you’d be able to talk without having to raise your voice. It wasn’t perfect, if he’d known-well-if he’d known how tonight was going to go he would have planned something more romantic, but he didn’t and the idea of knowing how he felt and not telling you about it made him feel sick. Because it all made sense now, the sense of urgency, the way his crush on you had never felt like a crush, the way one conversation with you felt just like three hours of uninterrupted reading. It all made sense and he needed you to know, right now, before he got called away on another case and you were apart for God knows how long. He needed you to know.

“Spence?” You asked as soon as you were in the corner, “What’s going on, did I do something wrong?”

“What? No! No-Y/N-you’re-” he started, forcing himself out of his head and back into the moment, “you’ve been incredible. You are incredible, which is sort of what I wanted us to talk about-or-no not exactly?” he rambled, his thoughts and feelings tripping and stumbling over one another in an attempt to find just the right combination of words for the way he was feeling, “I mean it is-you are-but I realised that you’ve always-ugh, sorry-”

“Hey,” you chuckled gently, taking one of his hands in both of yours, “it’s okay, just slow down. We’re not all super geniuses, you know?”

Spencer paused, taking a deep breath and letting his thoughts catch up with one another. God, you really were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, some part of him noted, and your smile….When you smiled at him like you were right then, like he was the only person in the room, like there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right there in that dingy karaoke bar, all his fears just kind of...went away. He could still feel them, if he really tried, but they were distant, locked up in another room, behind a metal door with a padlock on it. They were so far away and you were so close and wasn’t that more important?

“I’m in love with you,” he heard himself say, “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I know that-I know that you don’t owe me anything, and I’m not trying to pressure you, or force you to do anything, I just thought you should know because-because it’s the truth, and I think you deserve the truth.” he paused, wishing that he could gauge some sort of reaction besides the slight widening of your eyes, “And the truth is that I’m in love with you, Y/N, and-”

Thankfully, you kissed him before he had to figure out how to finish that sentence. He barely had time to notice you leaning in before your lips were on his, soft and sure, like you were answering a question, or saying a prayer. Everything else faded away, nothing was as important as you and, without even thinking, Spencer kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Your fingers threaded through his hair and he sighed against your lips, some small part of his brain wondering if kissing was supposed to feel this good. Had it ever felt like this before? Had he ever wanted like this before? No, not until you. Because you were different, you’d always been different and, if the way you whispered his name against his mouth when he nipped at your bottom lip was anything to go by, you’d always been his, and he just hadn’t known it.

He could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in your arms with the burnt sugar taste of your lips on his tongue, but eventually you had to break apart, even if it was only to breathe. Thankfully, you stayed close, resting your forehead against Spencer’s as you basked in the moment.

“I-love you too,” you chuckled breathlessly, “in case that much wasn’t blatantly obvious.”

“You know, I’d like to say I had a hunch,” he responded, “but I really didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning forward to press another, much gentler kiss to his lips, “What, you thought I dressed like this for Morgan?”

There was something sinful about being able to let his eyes trace your body like this so openly, something private and intimate that made Spencer want to blush.

“I-uh-I tried very hard not to think about who you dressed like that for, actually,” he admitted, and then quickly continued, “not that you dress a specific way for anybody, or that there’s anything wrong if you do it’s just-you know-women can dress how they like, and there’s nothing intrinsically identifiable in the way a woman dresses that allows a person to truly know what she wants or doesn’t want. Not that you want anything, I just-”

You cut him off with another kiss and Spencer melted into it gratefully. He could feel you smiling into the kiss and, for once, he was grateful for his rambling. For once, Spencer Reid couldn’t think of a single thing he’d change about himself, because you loved him and that was too good a thing for him to want to mess with.

taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​

[nyxdelanuit]

Don’t Hook Up With Your Friends (Sero x F!Reader)

Jealous!Bestfriend!Sero x F!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Smut ahead~

To say you and Sero were close would be a bit of an understatement. The two of you debuted as sidekicks in the same agency and though you had picked different agencies as fully-fledged pro-heroes, Sero was never far from you. This had culminated into you being entwined with his group, affectionately called the ‘Bakusquad,’ despite Bakugou huffing every time they referred to it as such. Being so close to Sero and his friends had some interesting repercussions, such as Sero and Mina trying to hook you up to each and every one of their available classmates.

You should have been thankful, that was how you landed your job as a hero at Shouto’s agency. You were a nice counterpart to Shouto’s stoicism and the media ate up your hot and cold personalities. This also meant you were conned into a date with Kaminari, his usual flirty nature replaced by a bleating, nervous wreck, flowers and all. You had banned any and all blind dates after that. Kaminari could barely look you in the eye anymore.

 As close as you were to them, especially Sero, there was one secret you held close. One secret that meant no amount of hook-ups or blind dates would work. You were hopelessly in love with Sero. Every smile, every touch, every joke lit up your world. This was the reason you would never tell him. How could you risk losing that? There was a ridiculous level of burnout in the pro-hero scene, but one joke from Sero would pull you from the depths of your worst days. No, you were content being Sero’s friend. Perhaps even best friend.

 You truly shared everything with him, which was why you were spending one of your precious free Friday nights sprawled out on his couch complaining about your lack of a love life.

 “I just need a good fuck, Sero.” This fazed neither of you. With the introduction of Mina, you and Sero had learned the unadorned truth of each others preferences. From then on, it was less awkward to run with it than to avoid it. Now there was no filter to what you could talk to him about.

 Sero chuckled, waving his phone. “I still have a few friends we haven’t tried. I could make some calls?” His wide grin faltered as you threw a round pillow at his face. He caught it out of the air and glanced around it. “I know they’re called throw pillows, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to actually throw them.”

 You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth still pulled up into a grin. “Sero! I said no more hooking me up with old classmates. You know that I’m already terribly in love with someone.” Yes, even this he knew. He heard how you pined for someone, he just didn’t know it was him. It was only fair, Sero often talked about his crush. Neither Sero nor you pushed for a name, knowing you would be pressured to reveal your own.

 “Don’t you think it’s time to move on?” Sero pouted. He knew you couldn’t resist when he gave you that face.

 “What about you? Are you moving on from your mystery girl?” You could tell by the way he averted his eyes that he wouldn’t- couldn’t move on. You tried in vain to push down the ache in your chest. As much as you wanted it to be you, even more so you wanted Sero to be happy.

 “This isn’t about me! This is about you pining after someone, who from your own admission is blind to your feelings. Who is, and I quote, ‘Never going to happen.’ At least I’m optimistic.” His grin returned, a little bit lopsided as his thoughts drifted to more romantic affairs.

 “It’s kind of hard to move on from someone I see damn near every day, Han.” His goofy grin intensified at your nickname, but you didn’t miss how he turned his phone back to his face. While he didn’t push for a name, he was adamant about trying to figure it out on his own. On his phone was a note listing all the little hints you never meant to give. With another bullet point, he jots down ‘sees often, every day?’ and closes the note.

 “Well, instead of sitting here like two lovesick teenagers, why don’t we get out and do something about it. Maybe a couple of drinks and some good music will make you more open to a good hook-up.” He shot you a wink, and you were glad you had such a resistance to his flirtations. Your heart picked up, but the heat didn’t stain your face. There was little resistance from you, anything to make it seem like you had a life.

  The sun had set long enough for a chill to set it, and you wrapped Sero’s arm closer around your shoulder. Despite his warning, you didn’t want to deal with keeping track of a jacket tonight. Not that he complained about you sapping his body heat. Luckily, you were able to slip into the cloying heat of the club soon after you arrived. You danced out of Sero’s grasp and to the bar, ordering for you and Sero right away.

 You sipped on your drink heavily, wanting the alcohol and music to course through your veins. Sero merely chuckled at you, dipping into his drink to match your pace. A few more drinks and you and Sero prowled the dance floor. For a while, you were content to dance against the twenty-something-year-old frat boys and hero-chasers. A few more drinks and you started to look with intent. Even with the haze of alcohol over your eyes, every dance partner fell short. Curse your standards and subpar sex life.

 You knew it was Sero from simply touch alone. It was as if the memory of his hands was seared into your body. You took no time to lean back against him, allowing the bass to drum through your body. You moved as if you were a thrall to the music, letting everything fall back except the noise and all the parts of Sero that pressed against you. His hands were fire on your hips, his face nestled into the crook of your neck. You allowed your hands to caress your sides as they slid up, barely ghosting your breasts. Your breath hitched at their passing, moving ever high to nestle into Sero’s hair.

 All at once, you notice his hard length against your ass. It was a wonder you hadn’t noticed sooner. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, spinning in his hold. Sero’s hand dipped from your waist to trail down your thigh and you threw it over his hip. The effect was immediate on Sero, grinding up against you. You threw your head back and barely registered Sero’s face following to trail his nose along your collarbone.

 You knew this was more than dancing as soon as you met his eyes. Half-lidded and blown out with lust, you never felt anything burn hotter in your core. You were unaware who leaned in, but your mouth was hot on his. It was nothing like you had imagined your first kiss with Sero, drunken and messy. Teeth hit teeth and lips, but neither of you shied away. As soon as you pulled back, Sero was dragging you from the club.

  The two of you laughed as you crashed into Sero’s house. The door clattered and then slammed as you moved your way in, never out of Sero’s grasp. Hands, lips, and teeth were everywhere. You couldn’t tell if your head was spinning from the drinks or the pleasure of Sero touching you like this. Everything was such a blur. You fell into his bed with him settling on top of you. This wasn’t a time for the slow, sensual love you’d like to give him. Not while he’s sucking a deep purple into your neck and the metallic clink of his belt rings in your ears.

 Your panties were slipped off and surrendered to a distant part of the room. You didn’t even get a good look at his dick before he ducked back to your lips. The desperate meeting of your mouths and the feeling of his hair running through your hands damn near distracted you from the prodding of his length at your heat. He swiped his cock through your slick, parting your lips as you bucked against him. His hand gripped your shoulder as he pressed into you with a groan. You winced at the stretch and your sober voice wondered softly if you should have prepared a bit more. That thought was quickly lost as the alcohol dimmed the pain. Sero’s soft murmurs into your hair and the shallow, slowly deepening thrusts grounded you as the stretch subsided. You felt his hips brush against yours after a few more thrusts, but you were too needy to listen to your body’s need to adjust. You rolled your hips against him and whined as your clit met the cool air and nothing else. It tempted you to flip Sero on to his back for the simple purpose of grinding the sensitive nub against him, but he quickly stopped those thoughts with a sharp thrust.

With how far gone you both were, there was no pacing. It was all or nothing, and the way Sero’s hips canted against yours, you couldn’t help but give him all you had. You arched you back as he gripped your hips and rutted into your heat. The sweat on you cooled on your skin in stark contrast to Sero’s smoldering heat. “Looks like drinks were enough to loosen you up for a hook-up.” Sero chuckled gruffly. Your heart sank to your stomach with his words. You felt sober all too suddenly as Sero groaned into your neck at his release.

   You awoke to the tinny chime of your phone the next morning. For what had transpired last night, your headache was relatively dull. You didn’t dare look back at Sero, his soft snores assuring you that your phone had yet to awaken him. You slipped out of his bed as smoothly as you could, hoping you pulled it off at least a little bit better than a newborn calf. Your phone was snatched out of your bag and muted as you padded into the attached bathroom.

 Shouto’s stoic face displayed on your screen as he called you again. “Shouto, it’s my day off, what do you want?” You usually had a bit more patience for these calls, but after the night you had, all you wanted to do was wallow at home by yourself.

 “It’s your day off of work, but you did say you would help me train today.” You could almost hear the gentle smirk in his voice. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.

 “That’s right, sorry. I thought this was a work call. I… I’m gonna be a bit, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You winced as you felt the dried juices rub against your thighs. You hung up shortly after, assuring Shouto that you knew where to go. You peeked out the door, Sero turned toward you but still asleep. After a cursory glance, you gave up on trying to find your missing panties. It was just more time than you had to spare. You did stand for a minute, contemplating whether you should wake Sero. What would you say? ‘Thanks for the fuck, see ya around buddy?’ You didn’t have time to get into what it means for you. At this point, you just wished everything would go back to normal. No, you would pick the coward’s choice out and leave while he was asleep.

  If Shouto had noticed the change in your mood that day, he said nothing. Not like you expected him to, he was still emotionally constipated. Sero had gone back to the goofy friend you had grown to love after a day of silence, but now his antics hurt. It was like that night had never happened. While it ached, you thought it was for the best. You’d rather have him like this than not at all. So you followed his lead, responding to all the group chats and texts with your usual fervor, even if you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

 You had avoided him for a week and a half, something that was almost unheard of in your friendship. As much as you wanted to see him, you needed time to heal. Time to grieve. You were planning on holding out a little longer, but Sero’s reminder of your planned movie night ruined your plans. You couldn’t bail on him again without it becoming suspicious. The last thing you wanted to do was make him question your feelings.

 You found yourself at his door, allowing yourself a deep breath before you walked in. “Hey Han, I brought popcorn!” You cheerily yelled into the halls. You set down your bag of goodies on a counter as you walked further in. To your surprise, Sero was sat in the living room, his elbows braced on his thighs as he leaned his head into his hands.

 “Sero?” You questioned softly. He looked up to you, his eyes hard and angry. You weren’t used to seeing him angry at all, definitely not directed at you. “What’s wrong?”

 “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong… you mean besides you ignoring me for over a week! Pretending nothing happened? Leaving me in bed after we fucked to see another guy and not even having the balls to wake me up before you go?” You flinched at his tone, each word like a cut to an already aching heart. “If you thought we could just go back to the way we were, you were wrong.” You broke at that. Pride thrown aside, you launched yourself into his chest.

“Please no Han- Sero, please.” You let your tears fall, as unbidden as they were. You could feel the heat radiating from Sero’s hands as they hovered over your arms.

 “No, I can’t just go back to being your friend after this.” You jerked your head up to meet his eyes. His hands finally found purchase on your arms, nervously rubbing them up and down. “You can either go, leave now, or…” You shook your head before he stilled it with his hand. You couldn’t bear looking him in the eye, so you kept your eyes shut tight.

 “I can’t lose you.” It was merely a whisper, but it was soon swallowed by Sero’s lips crushing against yours. You were so startled by it that you didn’t think of reciprocating. He was steady as he walked you back to the wall. Being between him and the cold roughness of the wall made your head spin. You gripped his shirt, desperate to anchor yourself to something. His body was pressed against yours, and you wished this was happening in a better situation. If it was friends-with-benefits or nothing, you were sure you could get used to it. It would hurt, but not having him would hurt more.

 You gave in, letting his shirt drop from your hands in favor of winding them around his neck. The hot sting of tears burned in your eyes, but you kissed him like you wished you had earlier. Sero wasted no time in running his tongue against the seam of your lips. You opened easily to him, how could you not? It was sweet torture feeling his nose brush against yours as he tilted his head to slot against your mouth. You tried to ignore the feeling of a tear running down your face. Sero’s arms traced down your sides, sending a flutter through you when his hands met the bare skin of your stomach.

 You felt empty as Sero pulled away, straying only far enough to push your shirt up and off of your body. He quickly started his assault on your collarbone, suckling an ever-darkening spot on the fragile skin. He continued down to the valley of your breasts. You tried desperately to lose yourself in his actions, to enjoy what you had desired for so long. Your hands searched for him, tangling in his hair as he lavished the skin he could reach.

 You arched under his touch, inadvertently rubbing yourself softly against his leg. A gasp escaped your lips, causing Sero to look up at you. You tried to turn your face from him, hiding the wetness on your face but Sero knew you too well. His hands abandoned your sides, finding the swell of your cheeks. A rough thumb swiped at your tears as he kissed your cheek softly. His head bowed, once again nestled in the crook of your neck. You could feel the feather-light touch of his lips against your shoulder.

 “I know I make you feel good. I know I can make you happy, so why?” Sero’s voice was a soft whine, the brush of his breath sending shivers through your skin. “Please don’t cry.” His hands fell against the small of your back, bringing you ever closer to him. You cradled his head in your arms, urging your tears to dry. Sero’s tongue wet his lips, accidentally dragging against your sensitive skin. He watched the effect he had on your body, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder. “Just tell me who… I know I’m not the best hero and I know that my looks don’t stand up to some of my friends… but I know you. There’s nothing that you haven’t told me.” His hands traced light patterns on your back. “I know your favorite movies, your order at every restaurant in town. I even know what you want your future house to look like and how many kids you want. You’ve told me all of your fantasies, just like I’ve told you mine. We know each other more intimately than anyone else in the world… so how? Who took you from me?” A defeated chuckle sent hot breath cascading over your skin. “It’s Todoroki, isn’t it?” He finally pulled back to look you in the eyes. You couldn’t hide from him anymore.

 “It’s… you. Sero. Hanta, it’s always been you.” You were prepared for him to release you from his hold, but his arms tightened instead. The world seemed to be thrown out of balance as Sero hoisted you over his shoulder. He quickly made his way down the hall and into his room. You bounced softly as he laid you on his bed. Sero returned to ravishing your chest, arms straining against the plush of his mattress to remove your bra. You went to cover your chest, say something in protest, but you were swiftly reminded just how fast Sero had gotten. Before you could move, his tape had already circled your wrists, pinning them to his headboard. Your words died in your throat as you looked up at him, his eyes dark with want and an incomparable joy shining on his face. Sero stood, pulling off his shirt and pants as he grinned down at you.

 “So you’re telling me,” he leaned over you, placing ticklish pecks on your hips, “that for years, you have been telling me all these dirty things you want to do with this mystery man,” he paused, allowing himself to enjoy the way you squirmed against his ministrations. “How badly you wanted his touch,” he sucked a dark mark into your hip, “how you wanted to suck him dry.” He made quick work of your pants, slipping them off your legs and abandoned them to the floor. His fingers traced you through your panties, slick already coating them. “And you were talking about me?” He laid a kiss on your thigh as he moved down. “Dirty girl.” His fingers were already hooked around your panties, pulling them slowly down your hips before you found your voice.

 “Han, what… what about that girl that you like?” You were desperate to continue, but you needed to know. You watched him grin up at you from between your legs, biting your lip to contain the moan that the sight brought. Your panties were finally stripped from you and went the way of their predecessor, lost to Sero’s room. His fingers trailed up your thighs. “She’s amazing, but she’s oblivious as hell.” You tried to keep your head as his fingers trailed over your slit. “I thought I made my feelings clear over a week ago, but I guess it didn’t take.” You gasped, gripping the tape above your wrists as Sero softly pushed a finger into your warmth. “Lucky for me, I get another try.” It didn’t make sense, Sero knew how you felt now, and you knew Sero wouldn’t say things that would hurt you so badly. He ducked his head down, lapping at the excess wetness dripping from your core. You dropped your head to the pillows with a groan. “And she tastes so sweet.” It took a moment to register as Sero’s tongue circled your clit. Your head snapped up, desperate to see him. His eyes stared up at you hungrily as he lapped at you. Another finger entered you, curling and scissoring you open.

 “Ha-Han! Please tell me you’re saying what I think you are?” He wiped the slick from his face as he crawled up your body. His fingers pistoned inside you as his palm ground softly against your clit.

 “We’ve been pretty dumb, huh?” he peppered your face in sweet kisses. “I love you. Always have.” His last kiss pressed to your lips. Sero knelt, using his free hand to release you from the tape. You hands went to his hair, pulling him back into a messy kiss.

 “You are an asshole, Han.” You panted against his lips.

 “Your asshole, hopefully.” You swatted at his shoulder. Despite the remnants of tears glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him.

 “You’re stuck with me now.”

 “Then let’s make it official.” He shucked his boxers in record time, removing his fingers only to glide your slick on his cock. You watched, enraptured, as he closed his eyes in bliss. His lip was worried between his teeth and you couldn’t resist tracing it with your fingers. You pulled his lip from his teeth before allowing yourself to trace down his body, following the lines of his lithe muscles. Sero rubbed his length against you, causing your breath to hitch every time it passed your oversensitive nub. Delicate nips and kisses were laid at your throat, traveling down your chest. Your arms grasped as Sero’s back as his lips brushed your nipple. His tongue traced idly around it, enjoying the way you tried to press yourself closer to his mouth. He obliged finally, sucking your nipple into his mouth softly. His tongue swirled around before releasing it with a satisfying pop. He quickly moved across your chest, repeating his movements as he ground himself against you.

 “Hanta, please,” You maneuvered your hand between the two of you, trying to line him up with your opening. He chucked against your chest, sending the vibrations rippling through you. Your hand was softly pulled from his length. He brought your wrist to his lips, laying a kiss over your pulse before placing your palm on his chest. Sero adjusted between your legs, gripping himself as he ran his head over your slick lips. He touched his forehead to yours, gazing into your eyes adoringly as he slowly pressed inside. The stretch felt heavenly. Sero claimed your lips, a passion you had hardly felt before radiating from every touch.

Sero thrust into you slowly, taking his time to bottom out. He stilled as he did, peppering your face with kisses before snaking his arms underneath you. His first few thrusts were shallow as he took his time to enjoy your heat wrapped around him. It was a stark comparison to your first encounter.

 He held you close to him, pressing kisses to every bit of skin he could reach. Each press of his lips was like a prayer, an apology for every day he made you wait, every time one of you had missed the obvious signs, every time something he said came out wrong. Your skin was begging to buzz from his affections. His fingers trailed up your shoulders, one hand cupping the back of your head as he focused on curve your jaw. He suckled a mark into the juncture of your neck causing you to buck into his lazy thrusts.

 After a moment of hesitation, he rocked to the side rolling you on top of him. His hands slid down your back, settling on your hips as he helped you keep pace. He stared up at you like a worshipper at an altar, reverence and awe written on his face. His lips were swollen from his affections. You couldn’t resist dipping down to run your tongue over his lip, drawing a moan from deep withing him. He bucked up into you harder, urging you to pick up the pace. Your hands settled on his stomach, trailing through the sparse hair leading to where you were connected. The feeling of his hands pulling you down against him was a sweet torture, almost saccharine. Each time he brought you down on himself, you ground against him, pulling gasps and moans from the both of you. Your lewd duet only served to drive you higher, the sounds of your skin meeting his as your wetness pooled around you a lustful accompaniment. Your fingers stopped their roaming as you used your hands to help lift you higher, faster. You chased after your high, eyes locked onto your lover’s. His eyes were lidded and blown out as he panted underneath you. His dull nails desperately tried to find purchase in your hips, pulling you harder against him as he bucked into you.

 Your moans only grew louder the harder he pushed. Sero seemed reluctant to move his hands from your hips, but the desperation of his face mirrored the quickening pace he set. His hand sent sparks through you as it dragged over your hip, settling on your oversensitive nub. He rubbed lazy circles against it, pulling broken moans from you. His touch was feather-light, causing you to grind even harder against him to gain friction.

 You knew he felt you clench again him as he groaned, his eyes fluttering behind his lids. His hips stuttered and you took control, not faltering in your pace until your crest washed over you. Sero couldn’t hold back any longer, the fluttering of your walls driving him to buck into you with a desperate fervor. It only drew out your ecstasy as he chased after you. His release pulsed inside of you soon after.

 You collapsed onto his chest, uncaring of the sweat that clung to the both of you. His forehead fell to yours, his breath hot against your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. You basked in the moment, pressing lingering kisses to his face as he did to you before. You would have been content to stay like this for a while, if not for the obnoxious sound of crunching popcorn from the doorway. Sero quickly pulled a sheet up over your bare form, slipping you to his side furthest from the door.

 “Oh, you don’t have to stop on my account.” Mina popped another handful of popcorn into her mouth. She leaned causally against the door frame, a wicked grin plastered on her face. “Just thought you guys might want a reminder that movie night is a group thing. That started like fifteen minutes ago.” Sero stood with a start, finally getting over the shock of Mina appearing in his doorway. You didn’t want to dwell on how long she had been standing there. Sero quickly wrapped a blanket around his waist, leaving the sheet to cover you. He nearly stumbled over the dragging fabric as he rushed Mina out of the door, slamming it behind her. Her boisterous chuckle was loud even with the barrier between you. “Maybe close the door next time?” She cheered.

 Sero turned back to you, an embarrassed grin on his face. “Well, I guess we better get dressed and get this over with.” He sighed, scratching at his face. You nodded, sitting up with the sheet pulled to your chest.

 “Hey Hanta?” You murmured.

 “Yeah?” He didn’t even look up as he scanned the room for his clothes.

 “If you liked me so much, why did you keep trying to set me up with your friends?”

 “First of all, I love you, not just like you,” he straightened to look you in the eye seriously, “and I just wanted you to be with someone who would be good to you.”

 “And you weren’t part of that list why?”

 He chuckled, “Doesn’t matter now.”

 “Oh, and why is that?” You asked coyly, unable to resist the usual banter.

 “Because I’m gonna marry the shit outta you.” His trademark grin was stretched across his face, warning your heart. Even with your fondness for him, you couldn’t let him get off with such a bold statement.

 “Why sir, we’re not even dating and you’re talking marriage?” You gasped dramatically into your hand.

 “Oh my apologies,” He threw the end of the blanket over his shoulder before dipping into a frivolous bow, “I would be forever grateful if my lady do me the honor of letting me court her.” His eyes twinkled in delight as he extended a hand to you. You accepted, holding the sheet to yourself as you returned an equally cheesy curtsy.

 “How could I turn down such a chivalrous request.” You fell into Sero’s hold as laughter bubbled up between you. The two of you broke apart to search for stray clothes. You grimaced as you held up your panties, drenched and cold. Sero must have seen the dismay on your face.

 “Catch.” He called from across the room. You barely caught a bundle of his clothes before glancing over to him in confusion. “Your shirt is in the living room,” he snickered, “and I figured you would be more comfortable in clean clothes.” Warmth bloomed in your chest at his thoughtfulness. You slipped on a pair of his boxers and shorts before slipping on an oversized tee. Sero tugged to you his side, tucking you under his arm. “You look good in my clothes.” He grinned against your hair.

 “I like being in your clothes.” You retorted, mirroring his grin. He ushered you out of the room, not bothering to pull away from you. Everyone had at least heard the two of you already, no point in pretending.

 The squad was gathered in the living room, and uncomfortable silence hanging over everyone except Mina, who twirled your shirt on her finger. Bakugou stared angrily out the window, but the tips of his ears were bright red. Kirishima was more upfront. His face practically glowed red.

 “Uh, good for you guys!” He choked out, thrusting out a thumbs up towards you and Sero.

 Oddly enough, Kaminari seemed the most put together. “So does this mean I don’t get a second date?”

[softangstfluff]

drinking buddies ♡

A/N:

Hi so this is the first oneshot I have ever published and this is the first oneshot I wrote so please be kind thank you :)

info: Fluff, port mafia (dark era) dazai x reader (slight language warning?)

enjoy!

"You're such an asshole!" you giggle at Dazai lightly bumping into him.

It's not unusual to find you, dazai, oda and ango at lupin bar occasionally on Friday nights. Your little squad had been spending most Friday nights together for a little over a year at this point it was nice, the atmosphere was warm and cozy the dim lighting the blissful lack of noise and commotion aside from the giggles and moving of stools or clinking of drinks to be heard from you and the boys. Nights like these made this bustling city and your at times overwhelming job feel like an after thought in the back of your head, too distracted by the evening banter between the boys and the occasional teasing between you and dazai. Tonight felt so joyful and happy considering the morbid mission you and the port mafias youngest executive in history aka your crush none other than osamu dazai had just returned from. You couldn't help but think of how blessed you are to have met these three dorks you called your close friends. Eventually you're snapped out of thought by dazai hugging you from behind.

"Right y/n!" the bandaged idiot said leaning his head on your should and hugging you tighter.

"Oh uh... sorry what dazai? I was lost in thought." you blushed.

"Wellll" the boy exaggerated. "I was just explaining to Ango that if any of us has a chance with you it would be me!" he smiled looking over your shoulder to face you, still yet to let go of the pull he had around you.

"W-What?! Who said anything about me dating anyone of you! And how are you so confident!" you squeaked squirming out of dazai's hug and blushing like crazy.

"Wow i'm hurt!" Dazai pouted folding his arms over one another. "But ya know y/n you look really cute when you get all flustered like this." he teased poking at your side.

"Shut up you weirdo!" you mumbled swatting away his hand.

"aha! told you didn't she!" oda chimed in chuckling.

You could never seem to figure out if you loved or hated the constant teasing your fellow mafia executive put you through. Despite the constant flirting between the two of you, you genuinely had no clue if dazai had any feelings other than the platonic kind towards you but you sure as hell weren't going to confess to him. After a few more drinks, ango decided it'd be best for him to head out; despite the fact he was a decent driver, the poor boy was a total lightweight. Just as ango was walking up the stairs to headout he tripped upwards and fell right back down. After that oda decided he'd better drive ango home before he wrecks his car so the two older men grabbed their stuff and said goodnight and with that it was just you and dazai.

"So y/n, tell me something" dazai asked, resting his chin in his palm admiring your stunning e/c eyes.

"Sure, what is it?" you say turning back to the bandaged boy you cared so deeply for.

"Would I ever actually have a shot with you?" he asked with out any hesitation or embarrassment, you admired how fearless he was all the time this being just another example despite it being something so small.

"Uh-ah why do you ask?" you look away in attempt to hide the obvious fact you are a blushing mess, despite the bravery you show on the battlefield you're actually quite a shy person.

"I know I tease you a lot, but I genuinely adore you and you are one of the few people who has ever made me feel happy..."  he trailed off mumbling the last bit, for once the always bright and confident lunatic was blushing a bit.

"Are you telling me you have feelings for me dazai?" you grin getting all giddy at his confession.

"If I am?" he smiled gaining some confidence back.

"Well if you are i'd have to tell you i'm both flattered and shocked, to be honest i've always had a crush on you." you say with a bit of hesitation nervous and yet eager to hear his response. You patiently waited watching him becoming increasingly more nervous by the second. For about ten seconds all of which felt like an eternity added up he seemed shocked and then before you could process it dazai pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't a long or heated kiss but a passionate one none the less. After a few seconds he pulled away smiling and patted your head.

"I'm glad to hear that" he spoke smoothly his voice was soothing, you felt relief knowing his feelings were mutual despite the fact you weren't technically the one who confessed and at this moment everything felt blissful. you looked around realizing the lights had gotten dimmer and the bar had somehow gotten quieter and it was then you realized it was only you and dazai left.

"Dazai, not to ruin the moment but did the bar keeper leave?" you questioned slightly giggling at the awkward timing of you're question.

"Oh, ahah i'm suprised it took you this long" he giggled. "Yes don't worry though he left me with the keys, believe it or not this isn't the first friday i've locked up lupin." he responded

"Oh okay!" you smiled and then it hit you, it must've been really late at this point you reached out to check the time on your phone. "Oh my god! It's 2am ??!" you squeak. "I guess time really does fly."

"I guess so." he smiled still eyeing you in awe of your beauty. To him you were one of the most beautiful people on this earth, he could never get sick of staring at you or spending time with you.

"I-I should get going, it's late." you frowned realizing this meant goodbye for tonight.

"Wait y/n, let me take you home." he offered smiling "I know you don't live far but I also know you walked here and it's late."

"Sure, i'd love that!" you said with no hesitation, you and him both knew very well you could protect yourself but any excuse to spend time with him you'd take.