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mild-lust · 13 days ago

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"He's an idiot." Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6k

❥ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sweet!Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being stood up by Eddie Munson, you run into Steve Harrington on the walk home from the trailer park. He lends you listening ear and a ride—and instead of taking you home, he takes you to his.

❥ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI! 18+ content! Explicit language. Smut with undertones of fluff, and a little angst (if you squint). Unprotected penetrative sex, f!receiving oral sex, past casual relationship with Eddie.

❥ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: My first post, nerve wracking as hell !! I think I got a bit carried away !

You stare at the phone blankly after hanging it up. It was a call that you had been all but unfamiliar with receiving, but it conflicted you all the same each time. And always went the same way. He would make fake niceties, ask you shallow questions about your day and try to keep up some small talk before, inevitably, asking the same damn question.

“Do you wanna come over tonight?”

You huffed in annoyance each time, making a half-hearted attempt to resist and trying to conjure up some lame excuse not to, but each time you would end the call with a reluctant ‘Fine, Eddie, I’ll be there.’ You hated yourself for being persuaded so easily. It was basically routine at this point, and it was stupid of you to even pick up the phone in the first place. As soon as you heard his voice on the other line, you should’ve hung up on him. You always think these things are so easy to do until you have to do them, until you hear his sultry voice pleading on the other end of the phone for just one more time. You let yourself think, in that moment, that maybe it’ll be different for once. It’s a stupid, short-lived belief.

Even so, you find yourself sat in front of your vanity again, brushing your hair and curling your eyelashes in hopes of impressing him. Maybe if your cheeks are a little more rosy, your eyelids a little more colourful, he might change how he feels about you. He might come to the revelation that he wants more than just sex this time. You know your efforts are futile, as long as your clothes are easy to take off he couldn’t care less about anything else, but it makes you feel better for a few moments to let yourself believe otherwise is true. You reluctantly slip on a matching set of underwear, lacy and baby pink. Very intentional. You know you look good, and you know that Eddie will appreciate it. You realize that this is the reason he expects the same thing every time—because you deliver it. You curse yourself for it. Shaking the thought from your head, you step into a short pink dress, throwing a cable-knit cardigan on top.

You try not to think as you walk down the stairs, out of your house, and down the street to his. You consider turning back about a million times, but you end up at his trailer before you can actually muster the courage to do it. You knock on the door a couple times, waiting patiently, stupidly, for a response. Then again when you don’t receive an answer, the action proving ultimately as useless as the first one. You raise onto your tiptoes to try peek through the window, and you find that the trailer is completely empty inside. Your face grows warm as you look around the trailer park, realizing no one is around or waiting for you.

Tears threaten your eyes, and you forcefully blink them away before they get the chance to well. You shake your head, promising yourself that you won’t be brought down by the behaviour of Eddie Munson. Not again. You turn and make your way back down the street, your shoulders slumping. The street is desolate and lifeless, the late hour clearing the pedestrians from wandering and leaving you alone on the road. That is, until headlights shine from behind you, casting your shadow on the concrete front of you.

A familiar burgundy BMW slows as it approaches, stopping beside you. The tinted window rolls down, and you’re met with the face of Steve Harrington. You brush a stray hair from your face, then attempt to clean the smudged mascara from beneath your eyes with the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hey, L/N,” he drapes his arm over the door, “what are you doing out here?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked as he looks up and down the dark street. You’re slightly surprised to hear the concern in his voice. Although, you suppose, you’ve seen him around and you hang around a lot of the same people. Besides, it’s kind of impossible to roam the halls of Hawkins High School and never hear the name King Steve. You’ve had quite a bit of interaction with this boy, but the significance of your friendship only really occurs to you the moment that he stops his drive to talk to you.

You shrug your shoulders, and you feel your cheeks grow rosy as you realize you have to find a way to avoid telling him the truth for the sake of your own dignity. He raises an eyebrow at you, “It’s late, you know,” he says, pointing out the obvious. You feign a small, agreeing smile, nodding your head as you avert your gaze to the ground. You open your mouth to speak, hesitating when you try to figure out what to say, “I know. I, um,” you shake your head, “I was just on the way home.”

He’s clearly dissatisfied with your response, concern still evident on his face when he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “That’s awfully vague,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Here, you want a ride?” he asks, gripping the stick shift and switching back into drive, his gaze unwavering.

You blink at him, slightly surprised by the invitation, “No, that's okay, Steve.”

You purse your lips into a polite smile, and he gives you a disapproving frown along with a quick, dismissive shake of his head. He opens the door opposite to him, a gesture for you to get in. His tone is persistent but gentle, “Come on.” He cocks his head toward the empty seat beside him, “Let me at least get you off the street. You can chill at my place, just to… you know, not be alone.”

You carefully consider his offer, pulling your lower lip between your teeth in thought, a subconscious attempt to suppress the smile that tries to pull your cheeks. You dip your chin, soon decidedly trotting your way around the front of his car and slipping through the passenger door. His arm crosses your body as he shuts it beside you with a soft thud, before he returns his grip back to the steering wheel. You lay your hands in your lap, watching yourself fiddle with your fingers. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never been alone with this boy. The car is quiet for a beat, the low hum of the engine bringing ambience to the space. You realize that you feel a bit less lonesome now, being in this car with him. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you wonder if he knows that he’s saved you from a harrowing, pitiful night at home alone.

“Thanks,” you mutter, needlessly ashamed to say it.

He shakes his head, “Don’t mention it,” he says as he turns to look at you, his expression curious once again. “Where were you coming from?”

You scrunch your nose and bring your gaze back down to your nervous, fidgeting fingers. “Nowhere,” you lie, the familiarity of embarrassment crawling up your neck.

He gives you a comforting half-smile, his eyes shifting back to the road now that he has you talking, the engine turning and thrusting the vehicle forward. “No, come on.”

You hide your face with your hands, an action you realize is meaningless as he’s not even looking at you anymore, “God, it’s embarrassing.”

He smiles amusedly when he senses your unease. He remains wordless, the quiet itself urging you to continue. “I went to… um, Eddie’s place.” The words leave your mouth reluctantly, humiliating and heavy on your tongue.

You see his eyes widen a bit as he processes what you’ve said. “No kidding,” He says with a scoff, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Munson?”

Your chest tightens, and you’re unsure if you’re more ashamed by your actions or Steve’s reaction. “Yes, Munson,” you huff, “but nothing happened.”

He seems to lose some amusement from your clarification, potentially hoping for a juicier outcome. To your surprise, he doesn’t press any further. You were glad to see him bring his focus back to the road, going back to quietly navigating the stark streets for the remainder of the drive. You watch the unlit houses go by through the window, cruising by streets you only faintly recognize. Before you know it, Steve is pulling into his driveway and leading you up the small steps to his front door. He coolly unlocks it and opens it for you, welcoming you into the darkness of his living room. Light creeps in from a small light in the kitchen, allowing you to just barely make out the outline of his furniture.

You squint your eyes, lingering in his foyer once you’ve hung up your sweater. He sets down his keys and heads towards his staircase. “Are your parents home?” you ask tentatively.

“Nope,” he replies, “they’re in Chicago for the weekend.”

He throws the words away, moving into his house without a second thought, apparently used to being alone. It’s only when he disappears into the kitchen that you think to catch up to him, finding him with a crisp can of Coke already opened. He leans against the open door of his refrigerator, his head tipping back as he takes a swig. You stand in the doorway, your eyes trailing up his exposed neck, moles sparsely trickling along his flesh and adams apple as it bobs with deep gulps. Your eyes snap back to his face when he speaks again, “Want something to drink?”

You shake your head and murmur a sheepish ‘That’s okay, thank you’. He nods and moves past you, travelling across the long distance between his kitchen and his living room. You follow behind him, your head turning every which way to take in his house. It’s spacious, tasteful, but you can’t help but notice its overbearing hollowness. The halls are empty and dark, any sign of liveliness or family apparently absent. You wonder how often his parents must be gone for the house to be this pristine, practically untouched. You clear your throat, taking a seat next to him on the couch, sure to keep a safe distance between the two of you.

“What were you doing at Eddie’s house?” Steve questions you again, breaking the silence and setting his elbows on his knees. You recognize an edge that suggests more than just innocent curiosity; an insistence that makes you wonder if he’s truly interested in your answer rather than simply enticed by the gossip.

“Um,” you wet your lips, “he wasn’t even there, actually.” Your mouth dries up as you say it, the reminder digging a pit in your stomach. He tilts his head to the side, clearly not understanding.

“Hm? Why not?”

You raise your shoulders, letting out a soft, defeated sigh. “He was supposed to be.”

Uncertainty flickers on his face, and his expression softens when he realizes the implication. “Oh,” he utters, his voice quieter now, “I see.” He leans back against the couch, looking down at his lap.

“It’s not a big deal,” the words tumble out, quick to reassure him. “We’re not, like, together or anything. Just… kinda sucks.” His eyes find yours as you speak, actively searching for any sign of doubt on your face. You press your lips together, “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” he nods slowly, not entirely convinced of your apathy. “Well, he’s a dick, you hope you know.”

Your lips curl, eased by his attempt to sympathize with your being stood up. You wave him off. “Oh, whatever.”

“Seriously,” he persists, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of his Coke.

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s Eddie.”

“I guess. Still a dick move,” his voice softens. “I mean, no dude should get to stand anyone up.” He pauses for a moment, seemingly careful to choose the right words. “You don't deserve that. You’re… a really nice girl.”

“Nice?”

Steve keeps your gaze when he continues, “Yeah. He’s a moron.” He tsks. “If I had someone like you coming over…” He trails off, unsure of whether or not he should continue.

“What?” you ask curiously.

“I mean—look at you. I’d be waiting at the door."

“Really?” you say. As if you need to hear it again to fully understand what he means.

He swallows dryly, setting his can onto the coffee table and, in turn, settling closer to you. “Come on, you’re gorgeous.” He says simply.

His leg brushes yours, and he doesn’t pull away. You nod, mostly to yourself, and try not to smile too obviously as you look down at your lap. “Thank you,” you mutter quietly enough that you’re not sure if he hears it. There’s no indication even once you look back at him, but you realize that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You feel your cheeks burn up, and you hope he doesn’t notice the pinkish-red that tends to slither up your neck when you get nervous.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times, though.”

You purse your lips, somehow embarrassed not to have been told something when you have no control over whether or not you’re told. You try to shrug it off, “Not really.”

Steve is visibly puzzled by this. “No?” He asks inquisitively.

“You know,” you say, trying to feign indifference. “Eddie’s not really… a talker.”

“‘Not really a talker’? What does that mean?” he replies, as if there’s no way he could be interpreting this correctly. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, instinctually starting to feel defensive over Eddie, despite yourself.

“You know,” you say again, hoping he’ll understand before you have to say it. “Neither of us really talked. Not much opportunity for compliments.”

He scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

You frown and swat him half-heartedly, “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not,” he raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a mock-surrender, “Just saying. Must’ve been real good for you to put up with all that.”

You laugh humourlessly, glancing away from him. “Yeah, you’d think so.”

His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your crypticity. It only takes him a second, and his eyes flit back to yours. He cocks his head. “He wasn’t?” he asks lightly, trying to sound casual though the interest in his eyes isn’t exactly subtle.

You don’t want to offer anything more, admittedly embarrassed to elaborate. You figure he can read between the lines, but his gaze is unwavering, still curious. You hesitate before you continue, “I don’t know.” Part of you wants to protect Eddie’s intimate life for the sake of his privacy, while the other doesn’t really care after what he pulled tonight. Decidedly, you go with the better part. “It was never really about me.”

“What, you mean, he never, like… you never—” he breaks, his eyebrows raising as it dawns on him, “Oh.”

You’re grateful that he’s not judgmental about it, just surprised. Possibly even for your sake. Silence hangs between the two of you for a moment, not particularly uncomfortably, before he breaks it again. “Wow, that sucks.” All you do is tighten your lips and nod agreeingly. “You deserve, um,” he stops to weigh his words, “You should be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means. He’s searching your face, as if he’s still trying to decide something, and his eyes dip to your mouth almost imperceptibly. He sets his hand onto your knee, gingerly, giving you the opportunity to pull away from him. You don’t.

You let out a nervous exhale as he leans closer to you, the distance between you closing further and further. Once his mouth meets yours, it’s drastically different from the hungry, lustful make-outs you’d shared with Eddie. He presses softly, his lips moving cautiously, still proposing a question. He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, only leaving an inch or two between you. Another opportunity to let you pull away if you wanted to. Once he sees that you don’t, his hand moves to cup the side of your face, and he kisses you again with more fervour. Though his lips are still moving with care, gentleness, there is more intent behind it. He’s eager.

You shift closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you rest your hand on his leg. His tongue brushes along your bottom lip, a silent request meant to coax it open. You answer it, slipping your tongue alongside his. You still yourself, suddenly unsure, and wonder if you’re moving too quickly. You’re not sure of how far he’s meaning to take it, or whether or not the kiss was supposed to mean anything at all. Your answer comes soon after when his hand trails carefully up your thigh, deliberate and certain. You lean into his touch, and he gently pulls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and he places both hands on the small of your back. You sigh softly against his mouth, moving your hands to both sides of his neck and drawing him impossibly closer.

The skirt of your dress gathers around your thighs when your front presses flush to his, your legs spread across his lap. His hands travel to your bare thighs before he stops himself at the hem of your dress. He lets out a careful exhale, pulling his lips from yours and searching your eyes. Your noses still touch, his breath fans hotly against your face, and you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you whisper reassuringly, answering the question he hasn’t yet asked aloud.

“No, I…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. He swallows once, then utters quietly, “Upstairs?”

The single word earns a fervent nod from you, and you lift yourself from his lap, offering your hand to him. He hastily takes it, moving in front of you to lead you out of the living room and up his staircase. Once you’ve made it to his room, he shuts the door behind him with a quiet ‘click’. He crosses the room with only a couple strides, his hands again holding your face and bringing you into another kiss before you can even make it to the bed. He walks you backwards and only breaks away from your lips once the back of your legs bump against it, then he lowers you gently on top of his rumpled bedspread. As he crawls over you, his lips attach to your neck and kisses tenderly along your jaw.

He presses another gentle kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours to take a second to catch his breath. His hand rubs the fat of your thigh, hesitating when it traces the hem of your dress. You place your hand on his and guide it higher up your leg.

Steve sits back for a brief moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and causing it to pile in a heap on the floor. He leans back down for another kiss too quickly for you to properly see him, so you resort to instead moving your hands to run delicately along his stomach and up to his chest. He grasps your thigh and hikes it up to his hip, opening your body against him. His hips rut gently against yours just once, and you can tell that he’s making an effort to restrain himself. The growing tent in his jeans rubs roughly against you even after he stops moving. His hand wanders further up your thigh, skimming the bottom of your dress and pausing, almost waiting for you to stop him. Yet again, you don’t. Instead, you raise your arms to allow him to peel it over your head and discard it to the floor, just as his shirt was.

Your face grows hot when you’re left bare underneath him. As he leans back onto his knees, you see his breath hitch in his throat when the lingerie that you initially put on for Eddie is revealed. His hands instinctively move to your hips, tracing his fingers along the lacy material that clings to your curves, his eyes still fixated on your body.

The longer he stares, the more self-conscious you feel, even if it only lasts for a second. “What?” you ask sheepishly, pulling your knees together in a half-hearted attempt to close yourself off.

“Nothing,” he responds quickly, his eyes darting back to yours, “It’s just… Eddie’s an idiot.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, your hands reaching out to pull him back in for a kiss—partly to stop him from staring much longer. Obviously, that’d been the reaction you’d hoped for, but you’d gotten so used to being stripped so hurriedly that it was surprising to be given more than a few seconds before rushing to the ‘good part’.

His hands continue to admire your body when his eyes can’t, moving along your waist and eventually cupping your breast. His thumb brushes over the hardened peak of your nipple through the thin material, the sensation causing a shudder to run down your spine. Your back arches into him responsively, along with a quiet moan that’s muffled by his mouth.

His lips travel down to your neck and press hotly below your ear, tenderly making their way down to your chest. His erection rubs evidently against your inner thigh. Despite himself, he doesn’t grind or urge against you. He still takes his time to plant gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, lower, lower, lower…

Faint pants escape from your lips, your chest rising and falling heavily. His lips press between your breasts, trailing down to your belly button, to the soft plush of your inner thigh. You gasp softly, a chill running through your body when he presses a feathery kiss to your clothed clit. He continues to pepper light kisses on your thighs as one hand roams along the side of your body, stopping when it reaches the lace of your panties. His eyes flicker to yours, and you answer the question he means to ask with a keen nod of your head.

A finger hooks the material, sliding them down your legs smoothly. Once they pass your thighs, knees, and ankles, he balls up your underwear and tosses it aside, then hooks his hands around your legs to pull you closer to him.

Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. Your cunt pulses desperately, the almost torturous pace he’s setting already making your head spin. He evasively pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and in its place, he slides his middle finger to glide along your folds. He slips it in tentatively, his eyes wide as he looks up at you for even a semblance of hesitance or doubt. All he’s met with is the soft gasp that’s drawn from your lips, a clear green light for him to continue. Pushing deeper into your soaking entrance, his finger curls and his lips attach to your clit, suckling. This earns another gasp, the pretty noises coming from your mouth growing more consistent once his finger starts to slip in and out of you.

His tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and he slides his index finger alongside his middle, his thick digits already starting to stretch you out as they move with mesmerizing care. You have to make an effort not to tug too hard on his hair when your fingers thread through it, your knees draping over his shoulders. With his tongue lapping and sucking on your puffy clit, fingers curling expertly to brush against your sweet spot with every pump, you realize how badly you’d been lying to yourself about ‘not minding’ the lack thereof with Eddie. Because, Jesus, does this feel fucking phenomenal.

His free hand moves to grasp your thigh, encouraging your legs to stay open once they try to close around his head. You start to burn up from the inside, being pushed closer to the edge despite his pace that refuses to quicken to match your rapid breaths. It’s a bit embarrassing to near your orgasm so quickly before he’s even fully undressed, but it’s excruciatingly hard to focus on anything except the waves of pleasure that wade through your body.

“Steve,” you breathe, trying to grab his attention. You tighten your fingers in his hair, a weak attempt to break him away from you, but he persists. Your skin tingles with the sensation of his tongue working against you, and the lust that blooms in your lower tummy begs you to take this further. You squirm slightly underneath him as you mewl his name once again, “Steve...”

All he does is him in mindless acknowledgement, the sound being muffled by your cunt. Once you get him to finally pull away and look at you, he is a visionary. His lips are pink and wet, parted slightly as he gazes up to look at you. His dark hair is tousled by your eager grasp and a strand falls loosely onto his forehead. You brush it from his eyes. You truly don’t know how much longer you can wait to have him, and you find yourself driven by this burning impatience.

You urge him to move from between your thighs, pulling him to sit up. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth, you lay him down beside you and climb on top of him, settling your knees on either side of his hips. You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, pulling it off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. This warrants a groan to erupt from deep in his throat, his eyes taking in your bare chest as if he’s immediately committed to memorizing it for future notice.

“So pretty…” he whispers, and it’s unclear whether or not he meant for you to hear him.

He attaches his mouth to yours again, wasting no time to slip his tongue past your lips and explore. There’s a newfound sense of urgency now, his movements still deliberate but considerably more driven. You shift backwards to give yourself enough room to start working on his belt buckle, your fingers fumbling as if you’ve never undone a belt in your life. Then he lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down his thighs, and he’s left in nothing but his Calvin Klein briefs, the barrier between the two of you starting to dwindle. You can’t stand being naked where he remains clothed, even if it’s nothing but a pair of briefs, so your fingers move quickly to slide under his waistband. You wet your lips and tug delicately, just enough that his erection is revealed from beneath the fabric.

You almost salivate when he springs free and weighs heavily against his stomach, a drop of precum gathered at the pink tip. You can’t help but reach to wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. His reaction is immediate; his eyebrows creasing, his lips parting with a sharp inhale, and his head tipping back against the headboard with a faint ‘thud’. You swipe the bead of arousal at the head with your thumb, before moving your hand slowly down his length. You’re only granted a stroke or two, base to tip, before he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Easy,” he breathes, seemingly concentrated on restraining himself from ending the night right then and there.

It’s unspoken, but there is a mutual understanding between the both of you that he needs to get inside you, like, yesterday. You lean forward, bracing yourself with one hand and arching your back somewhat purposefully, allowing you to hover above his cock. He shifts between your legs, his hand replacing yours at the base. You’re a bit embarrassed by the sheer amount of arousal that already coats his thick cockhead, though he seems to be in utter disagreement with you when he responds with a guttural groan. He aligns himself with your slick, carefully gliding the tip up and down without yet going in.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, despite the telling circumstances.

“Yes, Steve,” you respond firmly, almost exasperated by his unwavering hesitancy. “I want you,” you emphasize, hoping the slight whine in your voice is enough to soothe his uncertainty.

Luckily, those three words are all he needs to hear. Once he properly positions himself, all he says after that is a small ‘Tell me if you wanna stop’, and his hands move to steady your hips. Your eyebrows knot, and your chest swells with anticipation, even nervousness. His tender demeanor, the way he looks at you, it’s so overly different from how Eddie treated you. You wonder how you ended up here, with Steve, instead of in Eddie’s trailer as you always do. Coincidence, you suppose. If you had ended up there again, you certainly wouldn’t—

Holy fuck.

The thoughts are swept clean from your head once he guides you down onto him, your mind overcome instantly with the tantalizing stretch his cock brings upon entrance. Your nails go to grasp his shoulders, your jaw slackening with an audible gasp. Your eyes flutter open, your senses overwhelmed with the firm grip he holds on you, the grunt that falls from his lips, the air that punches from your throat with the first deep, experimental thrust.

He holds your soft hips tightly, enough that it seems he’s keeping you from moving any more. “Jesus christ,” Steve mutters, his voice strained. “You’re so—fuck.”

You give yourself a moment to adjust, partly for his sake, especially because it seems if you move at all he’s going to fucking explode. Once you see him relax, you set a controlled pace, rolling your body against his. His eyes fixate on where you’re connected, and you watch his expression change; the light crease between his eyebrows, the lower lip that he sucks between his front teeth, his jaw that tenses visibly. It’s not long before he’s drawing small, breathy moans from you, his cockhead dragging mesmerizingly along your inner walls.

Soon, you find yourselves in a rhythm, your bodies familiarizing themselves with each other and starting to work in tandem. Your hands slide up to the sides of his neck and you let your head fall back to look at the ceiling, your face starting to twist in pleasure. You can’t help the noises that drawl from your lips, his cock hitting the perfect spots inside you so easily. You don’t notice, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Sweat beading on his hairline, low groans coming from his throat as he watches your every move, the way your breasts bounce with every deep stride of your hips. He’s completely enthralled by you, your long nails clawing at his shoulders helplessly. You lean back down, your front pressed to his as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying uselessly to suppress the mewls that escape your mouth. You busy your lips by kissing along the sparse freckles on his sweat-slick skin.

“Oh, Steve,” you moan out. “Steve,” you repeat mindlessly, the word warbled by your breathlessness. There is a visceral reaction to your babbly moaning of his name, a shiver running through his body as he struggles to maintain a steady pace.

Panting, he threads his fingers through the damp hair on the back of your head and gently pulls you forward to look at him, his eyes darting along your flush face. He brings you in for a kiss, your ability to reciprocate lasting only momentarily before you end up doing nothing more than gasping into his mouth. He curses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand falls back down to your hip, helping to guide your unstable pace.

With a tight grasp on you, he starts to thrust upward to meet your movement, pushing himself deeper inside you. The room fills with the sounds of skin-on-skin, and he starts to do most of the work to make up for your ever decreasing control. His thrusts don’t last long before they become erratic, his hips moving desperately and clearly starting to chase release. You cry out, your hands moving quickly to dig into his shoulders again.

“Fuck,” he grunts in response, knitting his eyebrows together, “That feel good?” You’re unsure if the question was rhetorical, the moans that rip from your throat more than enough evidence for him, but you answer anyways.

“Yesyesyes,” you murmur, “S’good.” You’re almost whining, the coil in your tummy starting to tighten rapidly. You turn into a hot, trembling mess on top of him, letting lewd noises wrack through your body.

“Holy shit,” he says with a strangled groan, heavy breaths causing his chest to rise and fall against yours, his chest hair scraping between your breasts. “You’re driving me crazy,” he pants, his tip brushing deliciously against your sweet spot.

You plead his name, pleasure blooming under your sensitive skin and spreading to the rest of your body. He surges forward to capture the noise with his mouth, the kiss only lasting a second before he breaks from your lips and presses his forehead to yours. You tense and arch almost completely against him, your thighs aquiver as you start to unravel around him, barely keeping the ability to hold yourself up on your knees.

He watches you fall apart intently, eyes blown-out with admiration. They then shut with concentration after he’s successfully ridden out your high, his face contorting blissfully as his hips stutter, a weak warning leaving his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

He abruptly pulls out, only a few pumps of his hand necessary before he erupts onto his own stomach, painting his cock with shiny, white streaks that run down his length. There's a collective moment where you’re both trying to catch your breaths, struggling to find composure. Licking his lips, Steve brings his hand to brush away the baby hair that sticks to your forehead. Without realizing, he bats his eyelashes as he studies your face; your parted, puffy lips, the rosy tint to your flushed cheeks, the heave of your chest. Truthfully, you look a bit ruined. Not that he’s complaining.

You turn over to lay flat beside him, your shoulders brushing, and stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re mildly terrified of what’s to come, how he’ll act after this. You wonder if you’ve just broken your whole dynamic by letting this happen. You trace the patterns of the small bumps on his popcorn ceiling with your eyes, and wonder whether or not he’ll treat you with the same sort of respect now that you’ve had sex with him. Going off of past experiences, you have reasonable doubt.

You feel his eyes on you, and you turn your head to meet them. As if he’s read your mind, his lips curl slightly, reassuringly, and he slides an arm behind your head to wrap around your shoulder. You let him pull you to your side, leaning your head into his chest and resting your hand close by. His thumb draws slow circles on the tingling skin just below your shoulder, goosebumps rising in their wake.

You catch a glance of the alarm clock across from his bed, the numbers 11:37 stare back at you in bright red. Admittedly, there’s no urgent reason for you to have to get home, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You mutter against his skin, not really making an attempt to move, “It’s almost midnight,” you say as more of an observation than an excuse, paying close attention to the reaction it garners.

In any situation with Eddie, this would’ve warranted a dismissive ‘why don’t you head out?’ or, on a good day, an ‘I'll drive you home.’ Amazingly, that’s not what you hear next.

“You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

This takes you a bit off guard, the softness in his voice. Nonetheless, you answer honestly. “No, I guess not.”

“Good.”

❥ MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

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nramv · 30 days ago

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Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

Inspired by @valeisaslut Collide series😭💗

#please remind me if u see an error #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #nramv arts #ellie x reader #art #ellie fluff #tlou 2 #the last of us #ellie #minors dni

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ncteenv · 3 months ago

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17 things kim mingyu does

kim mingyu x fem!reader cw: 18+ mdni, smut, lewd language

he watches you cook breakfast for him. sits on the counter just keeping his eyes trained on you. but he also insists on cooking something for you, as well.

he’ll latch himself onto you from behind, walking around the room attached to your back until you’re complaining and threatening to kick him. and even then, he’ll drop his head to your shoulder and whine. “but i just wanna be close to you.”

he’ll do the laundry and wear your clean underwear on his head as a bandana.

he reach the things that are too high for you. you tell him you could have gotten it yourself and he’d put it back, further away, and amusedly watch you struggle to get it.

he bends with his hands on his knees to be eye level with you. it makes you flustered every time.

he flicks your forehead when you’re being annoying. you always hold the inflicted area and pout, to which he immediately kisses away to make up for it.

he threatens to take you over his knees more often than he actually does.

he uses both thumbs to swipe away the tears under your eyes after you’ve both had an argument. always whispers “i’m sorry, i love you,” repeatedly to reassure you.

he likes to wolf whistle at you, pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, when he sees you wearing his favorite shorts you own. the ones that nicely accentuates your ass.

he likes to mix it up when kissing. the rhythm can go from quick, urgent and powerful to slow, soft, and meaningful then very wet and sloppy.

he breathlessly mutters “fuck me” as he drinks in the image of you, mind reeling with places he wants to touch, places he wants to mark up.

he hits his head on the headboard because he’s just so excited that you’re about to give him the most disrespectful, toe curling, sheet gripping, back arching, earth shattering, pussy, to the point where the tip of his cock does butterfly strokes in your womb.

he splays his fingers against your lower tummy, pressing slightly. you gasp and hold his wrist there. “you feel me right here,” he grunts.

he gets emotional mid-fuck and buries his face in your neck, whimpering out soft moans and broken “i love you’s.”

he’s always so apologetic during make up sex, whispering “please, please, please” continuously as he pushes himself deeper into you. you’re unsure if he’s begging for forgiveness or release. either way, you kiss his head to tell him it’s okay.

he sleepily runs his fingers through your sweaty post-sex hair, eyes half lidded and heavy.

he talks to you when you’re sleeping because he just wants to stare at you a little longer. likes whispering to you how gorgeous you are, pressing a single kiss to your cheek and hopes his message is sent. (it is).

#seventeen #svt #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #minors dni #ncteenv works

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capricornlevi · 7 months ago

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(nsfw, mdni)

toji is many things, but he's not a romantic -- and he's never claimed to be such a thing. he told you as much the night you met, a mere thirty minutes before you both fumbled your way inside your apartment and he went down on you on your tiny ikea loveseat.

you were fine with it, truthfully. you work eighty hour weeks and don't have time for a consistent sleep schedule, much less a boyfriend, and so this arrangement is honestly the best thing you could've asked for.

when you have an evening free and you're not in the mood to spend it alone, you just send him a text about ten words long. then, toji replies with an even shorter answer, and within the hour, you're grinding on his thick muscular thighs like your life depends on it.

so it confuses you when toji starts to assume the doggy position during hookups -- only doggy, and nothing else -- fucking you from behind as if to avoid meeting your eye. he never initiates a kiss, letting you take the lead in that regard. he even cuts the pre-sex smalltalk short, offering monosyllabic answers, if any at all, to your polite and friendly questions.

is he ... mad at you? you've never even shared a full conversation, so you're not sure you've even done anything to anger him.

but tonight, with toji's hips pressed flat against your ass as his thrusts start to become messy and uneven, he lets his inner thoughts slip.

"so fuckin' pretty, you know that?" he mumbles, each syllable laden with a lust you've never heard before. "so pretty it pisses me off, fucks with my head a bit ... in a good way, i guess. makes me fuckin' finish too quick, though, y'know that?"

a particularly deep thrust has you gasping into your pillow. when your breathing evens back out, you decide to call his bluff; peering over your shoulder, you see him looking at you with a gaze so reverent it tells you he's being truthful.

"even just talkin' to you, seein' you when i walk in ... it gets me so hard that it fuckin' hurts. i get hard just thinkin' about this ..." he trails off, shaking his head as if disbelieving. he keeps fucking you, keeps his firm grip on your hips as he pulls you back up onto him, but it's as if his facade his cracking, his internal monologue spilling out. "you call and i come runnin', at your beck and call, but i wouldn't change a goddamn thing," another pause for him to groan against gritted teeth, "...think i might be fucked ... think i want this more than --"

snapping back into his senses, he trails off and picks up his pace; it's not long before his name is spilling from your lips as you tip over the edge, and his front cracks again as he finishes deep inside.

"so, so, so good for me. just fuckin' perfect for me. want to make you m -- want to do this forever, fuckin' you like you deserved to be fucked."

his movements slow and, just as your heartrate returns to normal, you hear him once again, far clearer, more lucid and intelligible this time:

"so fuckin' perfect for me."

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut and fluff #jjk x reader #minors do not interact

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miyadollie · 14 days ago

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THE DEVIL WEARS RED ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

★ STARRING non idol jeon yunho x fem reader ★ WORD COUNT 1.2k

★ CONTAINS pwp , use of degrading words , rough sex , p in v , unprotected ( use safety !! ) , mean dom yunho , jealous yunho , cute ending

★ MIYA SAYS 💗 most overused trope on the planet but hehehe THIS WORK HAS ADULT CONTENT . MINORS ARE ADVISED TO NOT INTERACT WITH IT.

you felt yunho's eyes on you all night.

every subtle sway of your hips, every laugh that lingered too long at someone else’s joke, and especially when you let his friend dance a little too close—yunho noticed everything.

but he didn’t say a word. not in front of anyone.

his stare, though? lethal. heavy. possessive.

it was his best friend mingi's birthday celebration, and of course, he wouldn’t cause a scene. but you, oh you were the devil that night.

you wore that red dress. the one he bought for you, the one meant for his eyes only. you slipped into it like a sin, letting every curve of your body shine under the party lights. you knew what you were doing, and he knew it too. and he hated every second of watching others see what belonged to him. his gorgeous, beautiful, goddess of a woman.

he should’ve known better than to let you arrive with your best friend. the office work could’ve waited. dosie, with her reckless ideas and smirking instigation, had always been a bad influence. he often wondered why he hadn’t put an end to that friendship long ago.

when the party finally died down, you and yunho bid your farewells and left together.

the car ride was silent. tense. yunho's knuckles turned white around the steering wheel, his jaw set, brows furrowed. he didn’t speak, didn’t even glance at you.

he was disappointed, furious actually.

you, on the other hand, sat by the window, grinning to yourself like the wicked little thing you were.

you’d done everything on purpose.

yunho had been distant, consumed with work, barely touching you these past few weeks, and if acting like a whore in front of his friends was what it took to snap him out of it—so be it.

you didn’t regret a thing. because you knew exactly what was waiting for you when you got home.

and you were going to love every second of it. ────

the silence in the car was deafening, thick with tension. you could feel it rolling off yunho in waves—fury, lust, restraint. that dangerous cocktail he always tried so hard to swallow when it came to you. but tonight, you had stirred it up on purpose, and it was bubbling just under the surface.

he didn’t even look at you when he pulled into the driveway, just killed the engine and stepped out. the slam of the car door made you flinch—and smirk wider.

you followed him in, your heels echoing on the hardwood floor as he stalked inside ahead of you. the door barely closed behind you before he spun, eyes dark, jaw tight.

“that little stunt you pulled tonight,” he said, voice low and sharp.

you blinked up at him with doe eyes, playing innocent. “what stunt?”

he took a step closer. “wearing that fucking dress, letting mingi put his hands on you, laughing like some goddamn tease.”

“mingi’s your best friend,” you said sweetly, batting your eyelashes and trailing your fingers down the front of your dress. “you trust him, don’t you?”

“not with you,” he growled, grabbing your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you against him. “not when you look like this.”

you bit your lip, leaning into him. “maybe you shouldn’t have ignored me for three weeks, babe.”

his nostrils flared. “so this is revenge?”

you tilted your head, brushing your lips near his jaw. “this is reminding you what you’ve been missing.”

that did it. ────

in one motion, yunho shoved you back against the nearest wall, your gasp catching in your throat. his hands were on your waist, dragging the red dress up your thighs, his mouth pressing hotly against your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. you moaned, arching into him.

“you wanted attention?” he hissed, hand sliding between your legs. “you got it now.”

“good,” you whispered, breathless. “make me regret it.”

he growled, lifting you off the floor and carrying you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing. the door slammed shut behind you. you were tossed onto the bed, hair spilling around you like a halo. he stood at the foot, staring down at you, chest heaving.

“take that off,” he ordered, nodding to the dress. “slowly.”

you obeyed, eyes locked on his, fingers teasing the straps down your shoulders, baring inch by inch. his gaze burned hotter with every movement, until the dress slipped down your body and pooled at your feet.

yunho’s jaw flexed. “look at you. my fucking goddess. letting everyone see what’s mine.”

you smirked, sliding back on the bed. “then come remind me who i belong to.”

that was all he needed.

his clothes came off fast—rushed, angry, needy. you barely caught your breath before he was over you, caging you beneath his body, his hands rough as they gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“such a whore,” he growled against your ear, teasing, hips grinding into yours, already hard.

your breath hitched. “i wanted to see if you still cared.” you tease back.

he let out a low, dangerous laugh. “oh, baby. i care more than you can handle.”

without warning, his mouth was on your chest, biting, sucking, marking. he moved with purpose—teeth scraping sensitive skin, tongue soothing it, hands everywhere. you arched into him, moaning, the friction between your thighs building with every second.

“look at this...” he murmured, voice gravelly. “so fucking desperate now. were you thinking about this when you let him touch you? huh?”

“n..no,” you breathed, eyes fluttering.

“lies"

he slid down your body, hands prying your legs open. “i should leave you begging, make you wait. but i can’t, nghh not tonight.”

he licked a stripe up your center, slow, deliberate. you cried out, hips jerking—but he gripped your thighs, keeping you still. his mouth worked like he was starving, tongue flicking, sucking, teasing. you tangled your fingers in his hair, sobbing his name when he didn’t stop, didn’t let up.

and just as you were about to fall apart—

he pulled away.

“yunho!!” you whined, trembling.

he crawled back up, face wet, eyes wild. “nah, you’re gonna come on me.”

he flipped you over effortlessly, pulling your hips up, lining himself behind you. he didn’t wait. he slammed into you in one deep, punishing thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“this what you wanted?” he panted against your back, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “to be- smack treated like this? for me to rail you till you're senseless, huh?" he emphasized with a particularly hard thrust.

“yes..fuckk.. yes!”

he pounded into you, relentless, filling you over and over while his hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could snarl in your ear.

“mine. you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours! fuck..i’m yours, yun!”

he groaned, hips stuttering. “you’d better fucking remember that next time you think about acting up.” he says through gritted teeth.

his hand reached around to rub your clit, fast and unforgiving. you shattered, screaming his name, body shaking uncontrollably beneath him. he followed right after, groaning low in your ear as he spilled into you, staying buried deep.

for a moment, everything went still. the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the thunder of your heart.

then you felt him lean down, kiss your shoulder softly, softer than you expected after what just happened.

“next time,” he whispered, still inside you, “just tell me you miss me.”

you smiled into the sheets. “but this was way more fun.” he shuts you up with a kiss. end. read more ❤︎ please like, reblog and let me know your reviews (๑>◡<๑) this work is a piece of fiction and is not intended to reflect the real personalities, actions, or beliefs of the individuals portrayed. the idols are mentioned as fictional characters for storytelling purposes. no harm, disrespect, or objectification is intended. everything written here is entirely imaginative and not based on real-life events or relationships.

#miya.writes #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #yunho smut #yunho fluff #ateez fanfic #mdni #minors do not interact

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socksdoeswrites · 19 days ago

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hii, I got a smau idea for ya :)

jjk boys x reader who just got a belly piercing

a/n: here you go, sweets:)

tags/warnings: aged up characters, modern au, female reader, afab, suggestive themes, minors do NOT interact, reader get her tummy pierced, i think that’s all. thank you for being so patient.:)

parings: jjk men x female! reader.

@socksdoeswrites

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catsoupki · 9 months ago

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bakugou (pro hero, mid 30s, 2nd on the ranks) who even with two entire teams of medical staff members dedicated to him and red riot, he will still genuinely believe that your kisses are more effective than whatever pain relievers the paramedics try to shove down his throat

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oneshlut · 2 years ago

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Hello! May i request a yandere romantic!jax x obsessive girly fem!reader:3 one shot? (Preferably on the longer side)

a little background info,

reader is obsessed with the fact that she wants him to love her so much, she finds out he's crazy for her, and instead of what Jax thinks she's gonna do, she's over the moon! Immediately kissing and she can't keep her hands off him. Ofc Jax eats all the affection up, !!

A/N: ooh, first yandere request! (also i loveee writing long oneshots,) thanksies for the request!! hopefully you like how i portrayed the characters and what not :D (also, i swear i have nothing against ragatha, she's one of my favorites, im VERY sorry)

Down The Rabbit Hole (Yandere!Jax x Fem!Obsessive!Reader) [Oneshot]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Toxic Relationships/Tendencies, Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Mentions of Bl0od (in the form of black ooze/glithces), Murd3r (in the form of abstraction), etc.

Summary: Jax finds himself pleasantly surprised that you adore his crazy-loving tendencies. One day, he thinks he goes too far, but you react in a way he never could begin to think you would.

Word Count: 2,254

Another day passed. Another day, spent all with Jax! That's how her mindspace was. She spent most of her day with Jax, and knew of her growing feelings. She knew these feelings were growing by the day, and didn't mind at all.

However, this didn't pass by everyone. No, almost everyone knew about this obsession of hers. Nobody wanted to speak up about it though. Some, like Zooble and Caine, were entertained by her lovesickness. Others, though, were concerned for her. Such as Pomni, Gangle, or Ragatha.

She didn't mind. Not at all. Her feelings were her own, and she didn't even care about how other people thought about it. She was crazy, and she knew it.

Deep down? She was glad she had put on the headset.

-------------------------

"Crap.."

She was getting the best of him, wasn't she? Jax paced around his room, circling and circling and circling and--he skidded to a stop. What is wrong with him..?

The day she put on the headset, the day she entered this reality, he felt an immediate change. Like a spark, sending an extra heartbeat straight through his spine. Seeing her did something to him, but he doesn't know what.

He's becoming different. He swears his vision took on a new shade of red. Was this the mainframe, or was this him..?

All he knows now is that he wants you.

And.. it felt good. He loved how it felt to love you. Jax's past frown slowly faded away, melting into a lovesick smile. He stared at himself in his vanity-sized mirror. If he was lucky enough.. maybe, you could be his.

Jax jumped up suddenly, hearing the sound of a knock at his door. He steadied himself, latching onto an object just about to fall, and took a deep breath. Why now..?

He moved to the door to open it. Lay behold, in front of him was... you. His heart practically jumped out of his chest. Oh no no no--he couldn't let you see him like this! Jax needed to compose himself..

"Hey, sweets. Uh, wh-what's up?"

"Jax! Hey, I was looking all over for you-!"

You invited yourself in, feeling a bit of flush on your face due to the nickname. He was always a tease like that, but it caught you off guard every time.

Jax watched as you inspected his room. You were never in his room, were you? He kept the sly grin on his face steadily, but it was practically an inch away from turning into an adoring smile. You were going to be the death of him.

You, on the other hand, had no problem hiding your crush. You think? He didn't seem like he was getting any hints at your loving gaze or anything.. Jax actually looked really spaced out. Staring at you. You flushed up, stammering out a response.

"Uhm.. J-Jax?"

That seemed to snap him out of his trance. Could he really help admiring you, though? Before he could dig into that subject more, he quickly returned his playful facade.

"Hah! Sorry, toots--long day, I guess.."

He laughed half-heartedly. You chuckled with him, but something about Jax was putting you off.. Maybe it was his unusual posture--or the look in his eyes when he.. stared. He also wasn't teasing that often today. Strange.

You brushed it off, continuing to chat with him. You shouldn't have. You knew something was wrong. Maybe you'll confront him about it later.

Jax didn't understand why he acted this way around you. Can't he just be normal? ..Whatever. You were still here, and that's all that mattered. So, for the time being, he simply relished in your presence.

Eventually, you had to leave to your room, noticing the lights were dimming, signalling the day was ever. It helped keep track of some sort of time. And keep people sane with a morning/night type schedule. Jax hated seeing you go. He wanted to keep you. He wanted you to be his.

But not everyone gets what they want. So he leaves you be, so you can get your well-deserved rest. Didn't want you abstracting on him, did he..? Hah. Heh.. Hm.

Listen, I know it sounds bad, but all Jax wanted to do was keep you safe! He stood outside your room, leaning lovingly on the door frame. Stalking and protection are two completely different things! He stared at the photo on your carved brown door, his pupils black, though now, with a hint of dark red. A color of blood.

He's not too worried about himself mentally anymore. Jax was already sinking in the shallows, he can go a bit deeper, can't he..? After all, it felt so good to be utterly obsessed with someone, to let loose.

Jax could hear your soft breathing, the sound of ruffling sheets, your content sighs.. He was lucky the walls were so light. God, there was something really wrong with him, wasn't there? He chuckled lowly, making sure not to disturb your rest--He was sure you were just so peaceful and soft and dreaming restfully in your room, he didn't want to interrupt that, did he? Of course not. Hahah! Imagine how you'd react, seeing him like this? He's sure you'd be disgusted. He doesn't care, though. He laughed under his breath again, his grin multiplying tenfold. He breathed in deeply, his exhale shaky with overwhelming emotions as he began clutching the doorkno--

"Jax-? Wh.. What are you doing..?"

...

Ragatha. He looked back slowly, sending her a piercing glare.

She felt her stuffed legs suddenly go weak. What's up with him? Is he sick? Why was Jax outside your door in the first place? Why does he look so.. vile?

"Oh-hoh! Ragatha, shouldn't you be in your room right now? It is nighttime, isn't it..?" He picked up his sly look he previously dropped again to avoid suspicion. Jax sighed internally. Shit.. he just had to get caught, didn't he?

"Why are you out of your room?? Are you.. Are you snooping on her?!" Ragatha snapped, waving her stitched arm in the direction of your door. She wasn't really angry, but rather shocked.. and a bit disgusted.

She was starting to get on his nerves. He couldn't let her wake you, could he? Ragatha was always a bit of a nuisance, and now she was trying to get between you two. He wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let you hear.

"Listen."

Jax grabbed onto Ragatha's plush jaw, preventing her from making any further noise. All that was heard now were muffled cries for help. Luckily, they were just quiet enough to not be heard. He no longer felt empathy, tears streaking her cloth cheeks and making their way down to Jax's palm.

"Dollface, I know we've never really been the bestest of friends," Ragatha's eye squinted at his now teasing voice. "..but just this once, I need you to be silent. Alright?"

Ragatha shook her head up and down violently, her strands of red yarn quivering under her shaky form. He let go, and she stumbled back, keeping a shaky hand on her previously covered mouth.

"But if this gets out to the others, I will f(__)king butcher you."

Ragatha, still shaking, took this as her sign to leave. To run. She ran back to her room, closing the door lightly to not irritate Jax.

He sighed deeply, taking one last look at your frame in the door, before returning to his room.

-------------------------

The next day, everything felt off. Everyone felt off. Even Caine, who announced there wouldn't be an adventure today. Maybe that was why--people were on edge because there wasn't an adventure? You didn't really know, but you could feel the heavy air that crowded around the circus.

You hadn't seen Ragatha most of the day, either. When she did come out of her room, all you heard from her were either short answers, hums, or pure silence.

So, there was Ragatha. And then there was Jax. Now, Jax was a.. weird situation. Mixed, to say the least. One moment he'd just.. stare. Look through you. The next, he'd be extremely playful--sometimes even flirty. Not saying you disliked the flirting.. heh, but, uh.. it was definitely a change.

Perhaps permanently changed. This thought didn't come to you, but it did come to Jax.

First hearing the cancellation of an adventure announcement in the early morning, only one explanation came to him. Ragatha.

It could've been his now delusional mindset, or the evidence of Caine's hesitance, but every part of him was telling him that Ragatha must have told Caine about the night before.

Of course she would. She's not easily threatened, is she? Jax couldn't let word get out he was utterly crazy about you. What would you say to him? Would you still talk to him? Would you leave him..? No, he wouldn't let that happen.

Ragatha was always such a chatterbox. He'd make sure she wouldn't make a sound again.

-------------------------

Three knocks. Surprisingly, finding a weapon wasn't too hard. Found in his room, a comically large hammer, spiked at the hit-point of the weapon.

The door opened slowly.

...

"Jax, please.." She shuddered. "I don't know what you want from me, just tell me, I.." Her eye became glossy.

"I'll do anything."

Jax's grin expanded. He chuckled under his breath, closing the door behind him, and looking up to meet Ragatha's petrified gaze.

"..Well, dollface, if you'd like, I could abstract you in a much less painful way." Her gaze widened.

"I could repeat to you over and over again.. how there's no point to anything, you'll be stuck here forever, and there is no escape, until.. well, until ya lose your mind!" Jax teased. Ragatha didn't seem up for it. "Slow, but painless."

Ragatha swallowed. Beads of sweat dripped down her digital head, was he serious? What is fucking wrong with him?!

Jax walked forward, causing her to take a step back. His hammer dragging across the floor, making a tear in the carpet from its spikes. "Buuut, then again..~" He spoke in a sing-song voice.

"I don't really have the time."

Jax pushed Ragatha to the ground, pressing a foot on her to keep her down. He didn't have the energy to deal with her screams right now. She tossed and turned, her cries echoed throughout the room.

He swiftly pointed the spike of the hammer to her throat. She let out a soft whimper, swallowing, and breathing heavily.

"Please.. don't..."

..Leave no room for empathy.

Jax swung the hammer directly under her neck. She yelled out in pain, though, the scream quickly faded into the echo of the room.

The space on her chest, once plush, was now sickly, black, and glitchy. He could almost see something neon glowing inside, but he didn't care to look. Abstraction always looked the same anyways.

He looked down to see the same thick, black, gutty blood on his hands. He swiped it off cleanly. It came off his fur pretty swiftly. Jax wiped the muck off his face as well, before returning to his room.

-------------------------

Actually, if you were being honest, you were a bit worried for Jax. His sudden mood swings were strange, but now you haven't seen him in a few hours. Being as he's normally in his room, if nowhere else, that's where you headed.

The halls were silent. There was always some sort of ambiance. Whether it be echoed music or sound effects, there was always something there. You couldn't even hear your own footsteps now.

You passed by Ragatha's door. Something about it seemed.. off. But you were reminded of your original intent, passing by Jax's door.

You were about to knock, before you heard muttering coming from inside. Was he talking to someone..? You leaned into the door, the muttering now becoming audible.

"What is wrong with me..? I never wanted this to happen--No, no, I did the right thing, if she found out, then.. Maybe it was worth it? For her..?" For who-? "I.. I did what had to be done. She'd never talk to me again if she found out. And now.. I can have her. Keep her.."

He began chuckling. This chuckling evolved into a manic laughter. And when it died down, you heard him sigh, and.. he spoke your name, softly.

Your heart jumped out of your chest. Was that all.. about you? You felt a heat rise to your face. You couldn't help but wonder how that worked in a digital world.

You knocked on his door.

Shortly after, Jax opened the door to greet you.

"Oh. Uh. Hey, sweethea--!"

"I.. were you.. talking about me..?"

...

"..Sh(_)t. Listen--I get if.. you'll hate me after this. Buuut.. yeah. I-I don't know what's going on with me but.. all I know is that I want you, and--"

Without thinking, you immediately jumped into his arms. Saying you were overjoyed would be an understatement. Knowing he was obsessed with you as you were with him? Were you dreaming?

Jax, on the other hand, was shocked. Not for long was he frozen, though. His first reaction melted away into his classic cheeky grin. This time, a hint of obsession in his eyes as he embraced you.

Then you kissed him. Then, he was over the moon. You pulled away, viewing his lovesick eyes with pure joy. Jax didn't regret anything at all. You were just pulling him deeper, encouraging him to keep up his behavior. And he was all for it.

As long as he could keep holding you like this, he would do anything.

And now, you're his.

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wandasaura · 10 months ago

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CRUEL SUMMER

summary — maybe you were oblivious to the way you teased natasha with a cherry flavored popsicle, or maybe you’d known all along and you were just waiting for her to break

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, temperature play, outdoor sex, nipple play, oral, degradation, food play (a popsicle and it’s never inserted), mild humiliation, semi orgasm control, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, brief domestic fluff, horrible popsicle stick joke, men/minors dni

authors note — a little summer snippet of our favorite couple! just wanted to expand on a little thought i had a few days ago!

you are in love

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

The cherry flavor was tart as it spread across your tongue and tinted your lips the same color as Natasha’s hair, not your favorite flavor from the selection currently stashed toward the back of the freezer, but Wanda had mistaken it for strawberry when you asked so kindly for a treat. Your tongue swirled around the popsicle lewdly, catching each droplet of thawed syrup and ice before it had the chance to make a mess of your fingers. You had no desire to join your girlfriends in the pool, enjoying the stillness of the lounge chair that you made yourself comfortable against.

Despite your reluctance to plunge deep into the warm water, your body was covered minimally, triangular pieces of fabric concealing only what mattered most, although the visible swell of your breasts was undeniably tantalizing as rivulets of perspiration clung to you.

You waved at Wanda when she resurfaced, giggling softly at the disheveled appearance she sported despite her composed demeanor. The salt water had allowed kinks to form in her silky hair, and thin strands clung to her cheeks despite how she ran her fingers through her tresses and attempted to pull them taut behind her shoulders. She waved back, sending you a teasing wink before she was gone again, a blur of vibrant colors beneath the water as she kicked off the side of the pool and swam toward the deep end; her need for physical activity even on her days off boggled you, but a bored Wanda was not someone you wanted to deal with, so you watched her glide through the water with no outward commentary.

You sighed softly, eyes closing behind the thick frames of your sunglasses, tongue still working on the swiftly melting popsicle, savoring every ounce of tartness that dissolved on your tongue. You could always get up and retrieve another, but they tasted so much better when Wanda did the work for you, and you wouldn’t get so lucky if you asked her again. She’d just barely complied the first time, huffing beneath her breath about how she’d inadvertently turned you into a princess all while she disappeared into the house.

You frowned instinctively when something obstructed the warm sunlight cascading down against your face, inadvertently shielding your body from the gentle burn that was forming against your already tanned skin (this was not the first day you’d spent by the pool with your girlfriends, and it wouldn’t be the last until the cool days of September rolled around). The cloudless sky hadn’t provided anything more than a gentle breeze in hours, and curiously your eyes fluttered open, expecting to find a stray cloud to blame, though only to come up with a set of dangerous green eyes narrowed thinly in your direction.

Shyly, you peered up at Natasha, vibrant cherry popsicle still between your stained lips as you gazed at her sweetly. Droplets of salt water raced down her arms and perfectly toned thighs, sparkling beneath the sunlight she shielded you from. If you hadn’t been aware of how your movements taunted her before, you were now, realizing that her dazzling green eyes weren’t trained on yours like you’d initially thought, but rather watching closely as you lapped at the cool juices that threatened to dirty your hands and dragged your tongue slowly across the length of the frozen treat in an attempt to savor its subpar escape from the heat. Months ago, you would’ve apologized sheepishly, would’ve submitted beneath Natasha’s heavy stare the second it had fallen upon you, but now, with a refreshing confidence and security in your relationship, you moved the sunglasses up to the top of your head, holding her stare as you plunged the frozen treat as far as the wooden stick would allow, hollowing your cheeks only to suck in suggestively as you swirled your tongue around the treat.

“Parshivets.” She muttered beneath her in Russian, and while you were still learning her and Wanda’s native language, that single word was one of the few burned into your mind without translation. Brat. She’d called you that name for the first time only a few weeks ago, in a moment of intense connection that had both of your limbs trembling by the end, but somehow it had stuck just as easily as duckling had. You weren’t sure what you heard more of anymore, your name, or that single title that had wetness pooling in your panties instantaneously.

“Tvoy parshivets.” You rebutted, eyes narrowing challengingly as you glared up at her. Your defiance was the final straw, the last test of her patience, and within seconds, before you could even comprehend what was coming next, your beloved popsicle was in her hands and between her lips. “Hey!”

“Shut up.” She grumbled around the treat, slowly stalking closer, pressing her thighs into the edge of the lounge chair you laid across possessivky, making no move to press her body into yours like you’d anticipated, though the her simple presence was enough to assert ownership. When she pulled the popsicle away from her lips, she tilted it over your body, watching calmly as red droplets of thawed syrup fell against the exposed skin of your chest and belly. You shivered, a displeased whine filling the air that had been silent aside from the sounds of rippling water for so long. “I said: Shut. Up.”

“Why don’t you make me then!” You argued, kicking out in an attempt to rile her up, only to be captured by her strong grip before the sole of your foot could make contact with her thigh. You yelped in surprise when she pulled you down, your head falling onto the lower section of the lounge chair, your knees bent as your uncaptured foot remained steadily on the edge of the chair.

Her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss before you could recover from the abrupt change in position, her body hovering above yours as to not rub against the syrup slowly trickling down your body and staining your bikini top. Her lips were cold against yours, and as she descended down your body, shivers erupted across your spine, not only from the sensation of her icy lips against your pulse point, but in anticipation. Instinctively your thighs fell open, welcoming her body between them, which she appreciated and made sure to acknowledge. You moaned pathetically when her core ground into yours, her mound appling an addictive pressure to your clit.

“Daddy-” You whimpered, your bratty exterior melting away faster than your popsicle as her fingers worked to unravel the knot holding your bikini in place at the nape of your neck, her tongue following the trail of vibrant red syrup down your exposed breast. You gasped when the flimsy material was discarded, her lips wasting no time before they captured your nipple, her teeth biting down on the pebbled bud deliciously hard. A whimpered whine alerted Wanda of your current predicament, yet all the redhead offered was an amused laugh before she dove head first into the water again.

“Do you know what you were doing to me, utenok? Do you know how badly I wanted to come over here and replace that fucking popsicle? You’re all bark and no bite. The second Daddy’s lips are on those needy little nipples all you can do is whine. It’s pathetic.” She sneered, her tone laced with calculated mockery as she kept a firm grip on the stick of your treat, apparently not yet done with it.

Your bottoms were the next thing to go, leaving your body dressed in only a pair of designer sunglasses and red syrup. The last thing you’d been expecting was for her to bite the rest of your ice pop off the stick, swallowing it whole and attacking your unsuspecting cunt, but you watched it happen as if the world was in slow motion, felt the sensations creep into your bones as if they were merely in a movie, but all at once it caught up to you, and the sheer shock of her cold mouth against your hot center had your back arching off the lounge chair, inadvertently pushing your center farther into her face.

She lapped at your cunt with fervent motions. Her teeth nipped, her lips suckled, and her tongue; there were no words to describe the sensations her tongue provoked as she plunged it deep within your core, massaging your sensitive inner walls and your g-spot before she allowed it to soothe your clit with harsh stroke and flicks. Your moans were breathy as you grasped at her hair, pulling harshly at red curls that tickled your thighs as they fell over her shoulders, not sodden with water like Wandas, although for a fleeting second you wondered what it would feel like to have the saturated woman undoing you so passionately.

“Daddy!” You cried out when you felt the approaching pleasure of your orgasm building, your hands pushing at her head, unsure of what you craved more of and what was entirely too much. You whimpered when you felt the stretch of her fingers coming home to your pussy, allowing you no adjustment period as two fingers plunged deep into your cunt, replacing her tongue that instead sought out your tingling bud of hypersensitive nerves. “Daddy! Daddy!” Her name was a sacred mantra on your lips, falling into the air as you writhed beneath her strong grip, attempting to drive her farther into your body.

“You gonna cum? Are you gonna cum for me, parshivets? My filthy fucking girl, getting fucked outside, where anyone can hear you? Is that what you want? You want Agatha to hear you? I bet her windows open. I bet she’s inside, sitting at her table trying to read, but she can’t because all she can hear are your desperate fucking moans as your Daddy fucks you.” Natasha’s words sent vibrations through your core, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of pleasure, though she never permitted it. She never once gave you the answer you needed to fully enjoy it, and fiercely, you fought off your approaching orgasm because of that silent denial.

When her fingers curled into you, massaging that delicate spot that had you seeing stars, you almost begged for her to stop, to lighten up, but before you could, she gave you the one thing you needed. “Cum for me. Make a mess.” Natasha encouraged, rapturing your pulsating clit and spasming walls, drinking all of your pleasure before she pulled away, her mouth glistening, her fingers sparkling. You gasped for breath, chest rising and falling as you panted, the heat only heightening your breathlessness. “You don’t know how long I’ve been holding out for. Wanda thought I’d break the second you unwrapped that fucking popsicle.”

Sheepishly, you giggled softly, readjusting your sunglasses when Natasha stood up and moved aside, the sun falling over your body once more. “I didn’t realize until you came over here. I wasn’t even doing it on purpose.” You admitted, though Natasha had already known that.

“Oh, I know. You’re just too fucking tempting for your own good.” She giggled, kissing your lips sweetly, your arousal still coating her tongue as she licked at your lips teasingly. When she pulled away, she glanced down at the stick in her hands, a soft laugh falling off her lips. “Why did the book join the police force?”

“He wanted to be undercover!” Wanda bellowed from the pool, apparently honed in on your conversation despite how frequently she disappeared beneath the welcoming water.

“I’m all sticky now.” You pouted, realizing that the syrup, despite being licked off, had left a reside on your skin.

“I guess you’ll just have to join us then.” Before you could acknowledge her, Natasha had picked you up in her arms, your bathing suit still discarded on the grass in a messy heap of fabric, although the picket fence around the property prevented you from being seen, so it didn’t matter much if you out it back on or not. You shrieked when you realized what she was doing, but before you could plead for your freedom, she’d dropped you into the deep end.

“Nat!” You scolded when you resurfaced, your freshly washed hair now soiled by the salt water that dampened it.

“Oops?” Your girlfriend sang sweetly, jumping in right beside you, capturing you in her tight embrace with faux sympathy. “Go get Wanda.” She whispered in your ear, and that was enough to win her forgiveness, immediately seeking out your other girlfriend who pretended to despise the way you clung to her like a koala.

“I love you.” You mumbled against her lips, catching her by surprise though not an unpleasant one.

“I thought I got you strawberry. Sorry, baby.” She apologized softly, holding tightly to your naked ass, giving it a teasing spank beneath the water.

“That’s okay. Cherry’s Nat’s favorite.”

#wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat fluff #wandanat smut #dom!wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut #dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff smut #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #minors dni ৎ୭ #series: you are in love #[ ౨ৎ ] — library

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6slux · 29 days ago

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⋆ 𐙚 ̊. THREE’S A CROWD!—poly!bfs! geto suguru & gojo satoru

.ᐟ +18, established poly, cunnilingus, comfort smut

you absolutely hated your job. you hated the way that place made you feel, you hated the way your body ached on the way to clock out. from your know-it-all colleagues to a rigid schedule that didn’t even allow you to catch a breath. you could go on and on about what you despised at work. the only problem was that their asses would owe you overtime by the end.

stumbling into your shared apartment, you’d slammed the front door particularly harsh one evening. the frame rattled behind you as you sashayed past the living room-right where your two boyfriends slouched off the couch.

it seemed each evening you got in later and later. the echos of your steps only becoming harsher against the floorpanels. what was once their overjoyous girl who used to leap into their arms and greet them with kisses became—this.

despite being in the next room, your movements are noisy and turbulent. one might’ve mistaken them for a fire evacuee collecting her belongings. what could’ve possibly taken your position from bad to worse?

two voices transcended into one as they called out to you. “what does she got going on?”, day questioned night, gojo then scratching at the side of his ruffled locs.

geto was the more assertive of the two. his fingertips long frozen over the pads of his black controller. rhetorical questions weren’t taken lightly around these parts, the dark-haired male already standing from a flattened cushion.

geto excused himself as he traced the hot trail you blazed throughout their home a couple seconds earlier. no more than five minutes later he returned with his baby in his arms.

he had to practically herd you back out to the couch. by time as your tired body curled up on top of his...you were sobbing into his chest.

“rough day, huh? let it out, sweetheart. we’re right here for ya. whenever you’re ready to talk about it…”, gojo idly sat by your side, now rubbing your back along with your other boyfriend as you wheezed up gibberish. clearly, a tsunami of emotions hit you at your most vulnerable. all it took was one soft ‘are you okay’ to release the floodgates.

nodding vigorously into a now damp crew neck, “thin ice. i’ve been working my butt off for three years now! then- that bitch had the audacity to just pop a head in and tell me- i’m on thin fucking ice”, like a record player your manager’s words were recited through a muffled cry.

“they should be lucky we don’t burn that place to the ground”

“fuck all of those assholes in that lame establishment. ive been telling you to just stay your ass in the house”

a string of passionate encouragement followed your words in shock. at this point your mind was blurry- you couldn’t quite distinguish who said what and which hand belonged to which. geto’s heavy chest whispered sweet nothings beneath the shell of your ear. thump, thump, thump—each heartbeat serenadingly calm against your tensed body. he had long wrapped you up in a wool throw, palm running along the flat of your back.

several silent moments passed, but it was clear that you were still deep in overthought. one sob too many led gojo to parting his soft pout, again.

“gonna cry ya’self into a freakin’ puddle, baby. c’monn, look at me,” two slender digits snaked around your chin, the calloused padding then wiped away runoff tears. “let us help you, m’kay? just wanna help our pretty girl out…stressing over a job she doesn’t even need”, geto chimed in beneath you, already peeling the covers off of your frame. it was as if the two were fused by the brain- the darker-haired man lifting your hips as gojo dragged your bottoms to your feet. the fabric is discarded into a pile on the carpet.

fat tears stilled at the brim of your waterline, allowing the two to adjust you until you were just in a pair of panties. geto helped ball up your shirt past your navel while his best friend thumbed at the wet spot between your thighs.

“satoru, it’s embarrassing,” you attempted to paw at his wrist which only earned you an icy-cold stare from below. “you know better than that, sweetheart. you’re way too sexy to be getting shy on us now,” the vibrations from the chest pressed against your back forces you to gulp up a groan. his wide palms slip down the backside of your thighs; right until he’s behind your knees. strong hold then pulling them up and apart to give gojo unabashed access.

your cheeks swell with warmth as the white-haired man peeled a corner of your center free. the thin fabric stuck to you like glue, a couple seconds of prying finally allowing him to drag it past your hips. “pretty ass pussy needs me just as bad as i need her”, a pointer and a middle finger spread your sticky lips apart. strings of syrupy arousal barricaded your slit.

gojo’s head eagerly ducks as his tongue flattened to swipe through the mess—right until he’s latching onto your swollen clit with suction. that’s when your limbs grow antsy, geto acted as an unfazed restraint. gojo was so unbelievably greedy when it came to eating pussy—your pussy. his thick tongue goes from swirling into a figure 8 to pistoning in and out of your clenching hole. he’s firmed the muscle up to penetrate past your weeping walls. then he’s softening the blow by pressing kisses all along your sensitive cunt.

geto, on the other hand, is so content with having your pretty face all to himself. his head cranes yours into his long neck. his wide lips repeatedly pressed peck after peck into your hot face. “satoru’s got our pretty girl squirming. let it out for us, pretty girl. fucking his tongue like that…chase that fucking nut, baby,”

he doesn’t have to tell you twice, a helpless croak came from your throat as you messily bucked your core to the textured friction. atlast that stubborn knot in the pit of your belly released down the sides of gojo’s dripping face. he laps and laps only asking for more as geto pressed down on your torso.

the air grew stuffy and muggy—all three of you now breathing hard as an attempt to calm down. your boys knew when their sensitive girl was exhausted,“you did such a good job for us. now let suguru go run us a nice hot bath-”

“wait why do i-”

“wit’ my lavender epsom?”

“with your lavender epsom, baby,” gojo added on, still pressing loving kisses into your supple inner thighs.

“i love you both so freaking much”.

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yelenabemylova · 5 months ago

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sugar mommy agatha who always insists on driving you everywhere. she always has blankets and your favourite snacks in her car, "nothing but the best for my passenger princess." at first, you were skeptical to accept her offers, however she insisted as the mere thought of you sitting on a crowded bus everyday to get to university made her skin crawl.

sugar mommy agatha would always greet you with your go to coffee order and favourite pastry waiting for you, knowing how much of a bad mood you could get in when tired or hungry. she even had the café in the office add your order to their menu, the combo being named after you, of course.

sugar mommy agatha would call you on slow days if she knew you weren't busy, pestering you until you came to see her at work. she would send a driver to come and pick you up, always putting your safety first. even though you had visited countless times, you would always knock sheepishly before entering her office.

sugar mommy agatha who would immediately pull you into her lap when you walked into her office, covering your face in light kisses and holding you ever so tightly as if you would escape if she let go.

sugar mommy agatha who would let you stay while she worked, often typing up emails and taking phone calls with you sitting pretty in her lap. occasionally, she would wear a strap to work, hoping to rile you up by having you feel it beneath you. she would often make you cockwarm her, not allowing you to move while she joined conference calls and team meetings, claiming her camera was broken.

sugar mommy agatha who would always appreciate you cooking dinner for her after a long day at work. she loved coming home to find a lasagna and garlic bread in the oven, the aroma spreading throughout the house. she would always show her gratitude however you wanted her to, sometimes sexually, and sometimes by simply watching something you liked while cuddling with you.

#sugar mommy agatha #sugar mommy agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #x reader #xreader #agatha harkness fluff #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x reader fluff #agatha harkness x reader smut #ybml writes #ybml hc's #marvel #mcu #avengers #sapphic #wlw #minors dni

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ncteenv · 4 months ago

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what are friends for?

joshua hong x fem!reader cw: 18+ mdni, smut, protected sex, lewd language, casual hook up, mild flirting and seduction ncteenv: this was supposed to be absolute filth but towards the end i gave in to lovemaking

a sweatshirt?

you turned in the mirror again, eyeing yourself from the side and then the front.

it was one of your favorites, a deep red cable knit with a hole worn into one of the elbows because you favored it over all the others. and it was comfortably a few sizes too big, reaching past your hips and covering your butt enough to walk around your apartment without pants.

you grabbed the hem and pulled it over your head, tossing it to the side.

now simple black laced panties and bralette stared back at you in the dim reflection of your mirror.

too much?

the panties left nothing of your ass to the imagination, so you shrugged the sweatshirt back over your head along with a pair of shorts.

turning away from the mirror, you faced your bedroom and scanned over everything to make sure it was… right.

it wasn’t too clean or too messy, but casual. because that’s all that this was. a casual hook up.

the curtain lights over your window illuminated the room in a warm glow. you all but dropped your phone when it buzzed in your hand, receiving a single text.

‘i’m here. let me in.’

the clicks of your keyboard were all to be heard through your apartment as you made your way to the front door. you ditched your shorts on the way over.

[an hour earlier]

“wait,” joshua laughed on the other line, “you’re telling me that you and gyu never—“

“no, we never did it. but, what i’d give for a good fucking.” your voice came out in a low groan.

he was silent, processing. you on the other hand had a heart beating absolutely out of your ribcage in this moment, and wanted him to say something.

anything.

“hm..” was all joshua could come up with.

it wasn’t unlike you both to end up on the phone like this for hours at a time, and the subject was no surprise either.

“is it okay to say that i’m craving a good fucking?”

“you can always say it, y/n,” he reassured you, “but what can you do about it?”

“fuck you?”

you nervously chewed your thumb nail, deciding on whether or not to lead the conversation in the way you’d been intending all along.

“what?!” the statement seemed to have caught him off guard.

“what what?”

“y/n, be serious.”

“i am. it’s been months since i’ve had cock.”

“y/n.”

“joshua,” you answered, heart still pounding. it was cute, really, but you both knew where you’d ultimately end up. “look, i’m not proposing a one night stand or that we’d become friends with benefits.”

“no. that is exactly what this sounds like.”

“well— we’ve kissed plenty of times before without things becoming awkward.”

“but it was never deep, tongue-filled kisses. only light pecks.”

you sighed, becoming annoyed with his hesitation. “you seem to have an explanation for everything.”

a low groan, most likely accompanied by a slow drag of his hand down his face, echoed in your ears. followed by a soft chuckle.

“but.. why me?” joshua suddenly asked.

“who else better?”

“i just assumed you and mingyu—“

“then i can ask mingyu instead. he’d have no problem with—“

“you can stop that now. that’s not going to work on me, y/n.”

you bite your bottom lip, the conversation coming to a brief silence. you could only hope your forwardness didn’t make him uncomfortable.

“will you come over?” you asked, adding a sweet “please?”

joshua paused for a second. he was probably pondering. considering.

“just,” he sighed, “give me a moment. i’ll be there soon.”

your cheeks burned.

and he hung up.

[now]

your chest tightened when there was a soft knock at the door. with a deep breath, you turned the knob.

joshua stood in front of you and you couldn’t hold back your smile the moment you made eye contact.

he was dressed clean, as if he’d just spent a weekend in the hamptons. the sunlight caught in his hair, created a halo effect that made your heart skip a beat.

“so,” you giggled, “is this a booty call or?”

he opened his mouth, pretending to be offended. “i haven’t been invited in yet, i can leave right—“

you grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door to push him against it.

“don’t think either of us want that, shua.” your voice was barely above a whisper, lips dangerously close.

he shifts you suddenly so that you’re the one being pressed against the door and leaned in to give you a single kiss, short and sweet.

“y/n?”

“hmm?”

joshua nosed down to the skin of your neck pressing gentle kisses there, as well. you turned your head to the side to give him more access.

“are you truly sure that you want to do this with me?”

you were too distracted by the way his lips were ghosting over your collarbones, humming in response to his words.

“i want to give you the fucking you’re craving,” his finger hooked under your chin, guiding your face to look at him, “but i want to be able to look at you afterwards and not feel like i’ve ruined our friendship.”

you searched his eyes as if you were weighing his words carefully, finding sincerity and genuine concern there.

“promise me.”

you nodded, tugging at the curls behind his ears, “i promise.”

joshua wasn’t afraid to take the lead on things and gingerly parted your lips with his tongue, eliciting a small moan from your throat. his fingers still held your chin protectively as he deepened the kiss, gently thumbing over your cheek as he did so.

you whined as he pulled back, subconsciously leaning forward into him with a pout. “hey…”

he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, drawing in a deep breath.

“we should move to the bedroom.” joshua spoke lowly.

“yeah..”

taking his hand, you dragged him into your room, kicking your shorts into a corner on the way.

joshua had been in your room many times before. often crashing on your bed if movie night ran too late or he had a long practice. and waking up the next morning cuddled in his arms was no big deal, but this time was different.

he stood in the doorway, watching over your silhouette until you turned around, noticing he’s stopped.

“come here.”

“are you sure you want this?” he asked again.

“joshua,” you laughed, “i’m pretty horny so yeah, i want this. i promise. i’ll say it in korean if it’ll convince you.”

“don’t. your korean is terrible.” he mumbled.

you patted the empty spot on the bed next to you. he sighed with a smile and made his way toward you.

without a second thought, he pushed you backwards into the pillows at your headboard and smothered you in kisses.

your hands that hungrily searched under him, tugging at his pants, were suddenly pinned against the mattress by joshua and stood no chance against his strength.

“if we’re gonna do this,” he looked you in the eyes, “then we have to do it right.”

you squirmed beneath him to let him drag your clothes off, and barely contained your squeal at his mouth trailing lower.

“is this.. my sweatshirt?” joshua tugged at the hem.

you hummed in thought. it very well may be his. and it was probably the reason you loved it so much.

“just take it off. please.” you begged.

he obliged, as the sweatshirt was pulled over your head, you felt a rush of cool air on your skin, followed by the warmth of joshua’s hands as he touched your bare shoulders. his fingers trailed down your arms, leaving a path of gentle caresses that sent shivers down your spine.

he took a moment to appreciate the sight of you and you bashfully look up at him. “what?”

“you’re pretty.”

a smile twinged at your lips, “yeah?”

“yeah,” his mouth returned to yours, “really, really pretty.” you felt the tension between you build as he deepened the kiss.

your hands, still pinned beneath his, strained against his grip, eager to touch him back. but joshua held firm, controlling the pace of intimacy.

as he broke from your lips, you gasped for air, only to have him claim your neck once more, and you couldn’t help but arch into his touch.

“joshua,” you whispered urgently, “please.”

he paused, looking at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “what do you want?” he asked softly.

you swallowed hard, trying to find the words to express the desperation building inside you. “i want.. i want to feel you, too.”

a slow smile spread across his face as he released your hands from their pinned position. you immediately took advantage of the freedom to explore his body, tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen through his shirt, and began to shed his clothes piece by piece until you’re both lying there in nothing but skin and anticipation.

you took the lull into action as an opportunity to rid your chest of the bralette and pushed yourself back against the bed, assuming the position you’d been in just seconds before.

watching joshua was a treat in and of itself. he was measured in how he placed his rubber over his tip, rolling it down his length.

he hovered above you, his face trying to read yours.

“are you sure this is what you want?” he asked for the last of what felt like a thousand times.

“yes. don’t you want me?” your cheeks began to prickle with heat. he wasn’t answering. “joshua?”

he had never wanted you as much as he did right now.

“more than anything.” he answered lowly.

your breathing escalated and became rushed when you felt him remove your last item of clothing, tossing your panties to the floor.

like missing pieces of a puzzle you fit together perfectly. the pressure that had surged on entry vanished when you remembered it was joshua inside of you. you felt slightly smug knowing that if you weren't compatible in any other way at least you were here. holding you so close to him, you moved slowly in unison.

joshua’s left hand twisted in your hair as his right held your waist, keeping you in motion with him. you couldn't think, you couldn't breath, your body and mind were going insane with pleasure. you let out short, quick gasps pulling at his hair and clutching on to his back.

his pace quickened now and your back began to arch involuntarily. joshua propped an arm beneath it, holding you in place while his other arm clasped your right leg around his waist, allowing for deeper movement. he was inhaling and exhaling loudly, the chill of his breath smouldering your skin in an all too good a way. some of the weight he was holding off he allowed to push down, grinding into you. lifting you, your back slammed into the headboard. it should have hurt but you didn't feel the pain.

joshua’s eyes looked quickly into yours, alarmed, afraid he'd hurt you. you pushed your lips into his, emphasizing that you were okay. no harm done. while being held against the board, his hands clasped around your thighs, you let your hands wander over every part of his body, taking in every inch of his skin. no imperfections to be found, just layers of astonishing beauty.

tangled together you mimicked each other’s movements. he didn't need to confirm your thoughts, he knew exactly what you wanted and when you released your legs slightly from his waist he moved you back down underneath him again. the board had been chaffing a bit and you were glad to feel the pressure of joshua’s weight, covering you from head to toe like a silk blanket.

relaxing his body so you were barely moving at all, joshua delicately ran his lips along your jaw, stopping at your hairline and kissed your forehead tenderly. the warm ache that had been emerging from between the both of you was sitting on standby, intensifying and waiting. He knew this, his crooked smile was knowing.

"joshua," you choked as he placed a playful kiss on your nose, "please don't stop!"

smiling, he started kissing you hungrily again, bringing your pace back up to speed, the passion thickening more than you thought possible. rising, soaring you both came fast and thrilling. you gasped loudly trying to keep your head from spinning off with all these new feelings taking over.

joshua buried his face in your neck, his moans filling your ear as you hugged and stroked his head, fingers tangling in his hair.

nothing compared to how incredible this felt. pulsing, pulsing and then the calm.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen joshua #joshua hong #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #minors dni #ncteenv works

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sincerelybubbles · 1 year ago

Text

it's a date || spencer reid x reader

part 2

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention.

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you.

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight.

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind.

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain.

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door.

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape.

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee.

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply.

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over.

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide.

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge.

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove.

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh.

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor.

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book.

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta.

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart.

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news.

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting.

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident.

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet.

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well.

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face.

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief.

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest.

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled.

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression.

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere.

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile.

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile.

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are.

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted.

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him.

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space.

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones.

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically.

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head.

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name.

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone.

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait.

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in.

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks.

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack.

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something.

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder.

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow.

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up.

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains.

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little.

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one.

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted.

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread.

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him.

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it.

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes.

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him.

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about.

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere.

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable.

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away.

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he��d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly.

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something.

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers.

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging.

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering.

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct.

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back.

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly.

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored.

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory.

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught.

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street.

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food.

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street.

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs.

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks.

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer.

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house.

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head.

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window.

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology.

You wish he hadn’t.

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again.

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle.

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts.

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway.

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side.

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun.

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks.

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low.

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms.

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid.

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy.

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head.

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket.

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team.

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway.

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you.

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away.

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it.

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile.

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

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fizzyapplecandy · 1 month ago

Text

Ateez as Romance Tropes

The one with the one night stand

Other members

Seonghwa x Fem reader

Word count: 3.7k

Genres and warnings; accidental pregnancy, wrap it before you tap it!, minors dni, mild smut, mature language, fluff, humor, strangers to lovers

One night of passion brings you more than you can handle, but luckily Seognhwa is there to ease your jumbled mind.

"Oh God."

You stared at the two bright pink lines.

The lines that were about to change your whole life around.

"Oh my fucking God! Jongho!"

You rushed out of your bathroom and ran into the living room where your best friend was waiting, eyes wide with anticipation.

"So?" He asked, frozen in his spot when he noticed how frantic you were.

"It's... It's positive."

Both of your gazes dropped to your stomach, and you slowly lifted your hand to feel around it.

There was a tiny... Something inside of you. Something you never really thought about having, but weren't opposed to. But that something came too soon, too rushed.

"So... I don't mean to be that person, but... Is it, you know? Is it his?" Jongho questioned, being careful not to say the man's name out loud.

Your eyes widened, just now realizing what you have gotten yourself into.

"Oh no."

One month ago

"Woohoo!"

"Get down from the chair Wooyoung!"

You tried grabbing your friend's arm to pull him down, but he was too into the song to stay still. Luckily, his boyfriend knew how to handle him in situations like these.

"Come on now Woo, you're giving the poor girl a headache." San put his strong arms around his waist and lowered him to the ground.

"You guys don't know how to have fun!" A pouty Wooyoung shouted, placing kisses all over San's face. You just shook your head and went to the bar to get another drink.

It was a Saturday, and you always went out to your usual club with the boys. Jongho was deep into an arm wrestling contest with Yeosang, San and Wooyoung were now all lovey dovey in the corner, Mingi and Yunho were showing off their amazing dance moves, but Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen.

He usually stayed by your side, watching over the friend group, but he told you he was going to be late tonight. Hongjoong went on a business trip recently and met another aspiring designer along the way. You forgot his name, but you knew your friend was bringing him over tonight to meet you all.

You weren't in the mood, to be honest. Maybe it was because you had a tough week at work, trying not to strangle your new boss, or maybe because you were watching couples being all loved up. Honestly, you yearned for someone to hold onto at night, but it just wasn't meant to be yet.

"Why so sad, sugar?"

You turned around, surprised to hear his voice, even though you knew he was coming tonight.

"Hongjoong!"

He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up and giggling along with you.

"Hey there! I missed you!"

"I missed you too! Gosh, I can't parent these kids no more!"

You laughed, but he understood how stressed you must have felt.

"No worries, daddy Hongjoong is back!"

"Joong, I'm glad, but please don't say it like that!"

You grimaced, and your friend only chuckled at your expression. It seemed like Hongjoong suddenly remembered something, because he turned around and waved someone over.

"Y/N, I want you to meet Park Seonghwa, the new friend I was telling you about."

"Hi there."

Goodness gracious. Park Seonghwa had to be the most handsome man on planet earth. His dark hair was cut short, but some of the longer strands fell over his eyes. He was dressed to the nines in something you probably couldn't afford to look at, and his stance was confident.

Almost borderline cocky, if you were being completely honest.

"O-Oh... Hello."

"You must be Y/N, right? Hongjoong has told me a lot about you, but I must say..."

He leaned over, whispering the next sentence in your ear.

"... I get why he calls you sugar, because you look like a real sweet treat."

Ah. There it is. You knew something must be wrong about such a handsome man. Of course he was a fuckboy.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm gonna go now, you two enjoy your night! Joong, come catch-up with us later!"

You blew a kiss to a confused Hongjoong, leaving him with Seonghwa and walking over to the rest of the group. They've settled down at the table in the meantime, and you were glad the chaos was over.

For now at least.

"Major fuckboy alert!"

Mingi gasped.

"Who's competing with me?"

You scoffed, pointing at the arm he had wrapped around Yunho.

"Please, be serious. You haven't left Yunho's side in how long now?"

Mingi pouted, leaning into his boyfriend's side.

"... Five years in August."

"That's right." You nodded, plating yourself beside Jongho.

The younger tapped you on the shoulder to make you look at him.

"What's up?"

You sighed, sipping on your vodka.

"Hongjoong's new friend is to die for, until he opens his mouth."

Jongho pointed his finger, making you follow along.

"You mean that one? They already said hi to us before going to the bar to find you, he was really cool."

"Yeah, maybe to you."

You wanted to continue your rant, but the very man you were gossiping about approached with Hongjoong.

"Finally! Come on people, make room. We're about to get this party started!"

Hongjoong sat opposite you, making the only free seat available the one next to you. Seonghwa planted himself there, throwing his arm around the back of your chair.

"So, what's your story sugar?" He whispered into your ear.

You jerked away from him, surprised he got so close to you. The other thing that surprised you was how nervous you got.

"I don't have a story. And don't call me that, we just met."

Seonghwa looked confused for a second. He wasn't used to the cold shoulder from girls, but he figured you weren't his usual type.

Not that he particularly had one, but being in the fashion industry only lets you meet a certain amount of people. Fake people, only interested in your connections.

However, you were someone real. Someone who wasn't about to give into his charms so easily. Seonghwa was hooked before he realised it.

The night went on like this - you running away and being rude, while a desperate Seonghwa tried to get a smidge of your attention. The other boys found it hilarious, and Seonghwa seemed to fit right into your little group.

The other thing that certainly progressed was your drink intake. Maybe you were frustrated with the fact that you were warming up to the handsome fellow, and you tried to drown it with vodka.

A hefty amount of it, too.

It seemed like everybody was on the same page, because two hours later, Seonghwa was a blushing mess who couldn't stop giggling at Yunho's bad jokes.

The smile on his face brought out a small one of your own. He didn't seem so bad when he was like this. Or was it just your mushy brain convincing you?

It didn't matter anyway, because before you knew it, you were hollered up in a corner, making out with him.

"You finally warmed up to me, huh?"

"Stop talking."

You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours again, continuing the dance between your teeth, tongue and lips. Seonghwa's hands explored your body, staying respectful despite the fact you were literally pressed up against each other.

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked before putting his lips back onto yours.

"Hell yeah."

The ride to his new place was spent giggling into each other's mouths as you tried to continue kissing, the poor taxi driver having to listen to your antics.

The elevator ride was something else, because you managed to unbuckle his belt while he accidentally ripped one of your dress straps.

It was hot, heavy, and you couldn't wait to take his clothes off.

No time was wasted when your back finally hit his king sized bed. Your hands were all over each other, squeezing and caressing places that made you both moan out in pleasure.

Once he finally entered you, the look on his face changed. Seonghwa was taking it slow, trying to set a good pace because he knew he'd come too soon. You just felt that heavenly around him.

"I like you, Y/N. It's crazy how much, knowing we just met."

You wanted to respond, but his thrusts sped up and you could only sigh while wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

"I-I'm close. Harder, Seognhwa, please."

"Yes, yes... Anything you need, sugar."

You hit your climax before you even realised it, Seonghwa following soon after.

He slowly pulled out, laying on his side and wrapping you up in his arms.

"That was..."

"Yeah..." You said, exhausted, but incredibly satisfied.

The night went on like this after you both caught your breath for a moment.

When you were both finally spent, Seognhwa made sure to clean you up before settling back into his bed. For some reason, you couldn't fall asleep even after he drifted off.

So, you sneaked out of his place as the sun went up, feeling guiltier than you should. You only just met him, and he didn't really leave the best first impression, but the spark between you was undeniable.

You had no idea how badly you messed up until the next time he came to a friendly gathering at Hongjoong's place. Seonghwa acted as if nothing happened, and you were devastated.

It was your fault, honestly, but you were still a bit hurt about it. There was no point in ruining the fun for everyone, so you just went along with the situation.

You weren't aware just how much your lives would change in a month's time.

Present day

"Did you use protection?" Jongho asked, holding onto your hand as you sat next to each other on your couch.

"We... I think we did, I don't know? I was too drunk, and besides, I'm on the pill... I thought..."

"Hey, hey, I'm not judging you. I'm just asking, it's a valid question." He tried to calm you down, but it wasn't working. Tears were already falling down your cheeks, and the positive test on the coffee table was starting back at you like it was about to consume you.

"What... What am I going to do now? This is so messed up Jongho." You cried, placing your head into your hands.

"Oh baby... We'll figure something out, okay?"

That's when you heard your doorbell go off. You snapped your head up, looking at Jongho who seemed too calm about everything.

"Don't worry, I know who it is." He stood up, going over to let the person in.

"Y/N?" Hongjoong asked, coming to kneel in front of you. You glanced at Jongho who just shrugged.

"I had to call for back up. I know he can be of better help than me."

"Y/N, is it true?"

You looked at Hongjoong before throwing yourself into his arms. He only sneezed you tight, patting your back as you sobbed.

"Oh sweetie... It's okay, you know that? We'll figure something out."

"B-But Joong... You're going to hate me when I tell you who... You know." You cried, refusing to let go of him.

"Y/N, look at me. Come on, I know already."

You froze, slowly detaching yourself from him. He didn't look mad, or even disappointed. On the contrary, he had a small smile on his face.

"Hwa couldn't keep it to himself, but he made me promise not to tell you. The man has been devastated about fucking up his chance with you."

"He what?" You mumbled, not believing him.

He only nodded and continued.

"Yeah, he really likes you. Why did you run off on him?"

"I... Well... I don't know, okay! We had such an amazing night, and then we did what we did, and I don't know... I got scared."

"At least now you have a good enough reason to talk to him again." Both your and Hongjoong's head snapped towards Jongho, and the poor boy looked frightened.

"Sorry, I told you I'm not good at this."

You laughed, the tears slowly drying up.

"It's okay, thank you. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you both."

You spent the rest of the evening sandwiched between the two men, considering all of your options.

"I take it you want to keep the baby?" Hongjoong asked while peeling an orange for you. You've told them how sick you've been feeling for the past week, and oranges were the only thing you could stomach easily.

"Yeah... I think I do. I don't know, I've always wanted to have a family, and this baby is here for a reason. I just don't know how I'm going to manage being a single mom."

"A single mom? What about Seonghwa?" Jongho asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

"Oh come one, he's a designer for god sakes. He's traveling all the time, and he's not about to drop all of that to become a dad. Be for real."

"You haven't even talked to him yet, how can you know?"

"Jongho... I can't get my hopes up in any way, so please, let's not talk about this anymore."

Hongjoong stayed silent throughout your debate with Jongho, itching to tell you how wrong you were.

Seonghwa was constantly pestering his friend about you, day and night. He was so into you it hurt, but he wasn't sure how to approach you after the night you shared. The one where you left him without a word, and never mentioned anything again.

"Okay, here's your orange. I'm going to run you a bath, and then we can watch a movie. We'll think of a plan along the way. You're not alone in this, that baby already has seven amazing people out here who will gladly be of help whenever you need."

You looked at Hongjoong, thankful to have such an amazing friend by your side.

"Let's... Let's not tell anyone else before I talk to Seonghwa, okay? I don't want him finding out because Mingi couldn't keep his big mouth shut."

The two men laughed, agreeing it was for the best. The rest of the evening was spent on the couch, in the comforting arms of your two friends as your brain went haywire.

Your life was about to become much more complicated, and you still had to do the toughest thing of them all - Tell Seonghwa.

"Y/N? Hey there... Where's Hongjoong?"

A confused Seonghwa stood by your table as you gestured for him to sit on the chair opposite you. Your tea was cold, hands wrapped around the mug only there to keep you grounded.

"Hi. Hongjoong won't be joining us today. I have to... I have to talk to you about something, so I asked Joong to call you. I wasn't sure if you'd show up otherwise."

"Oh..." Seognhwa was confused. Why would you all of the sudden want to talk to him? It's been a month since you two shared a wonderful night together, but you made it clear it was just that. One night.

The waitress came and took his order, and you took the chance to rummage through your bag for the little black and white photo. You hid it under the table, waiting for him to settle in.

"So, what's this about? I know we aren't exactly on speaking terms..." He wandered off, his eyes never meeting yours as he spoke.

"Listen, there is no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to... Well..."

You placed the little photo at the center of the table, pushing it slightly towards him.

"This right here is... Our little blip. I know it's yours because I haven't been with anybody for a while, and after our night as well. So... Yeah."

It took a while for him to react. His eyes were still glued on the tiny sonogram photo you took, not even sure where exactly he should be looking.

"You're... You're pregnant?" He whispered, slowly moving his fingers over the edges of the photo.

"I am. I'm sorry, truly. We were kind of... Careless that night. I'm keeping the baby, it's something I want to do, but you won't be obligated to do anything you don't want. I'm fully prepared to tackle this by myself. I just wanted you to know."

He seemed... Angry all of the sudden.

"Obligated? What are you talking about? This is my blip too! I'm not letting you do this by yourself. We'll... Work something out."

You sighed, finally looking straight into his eyes. You couldn't quite decipher his feelings about everything, but there was a strong determination behind his intense gaze.

"Are you sure? Seonghwa, this is something life changing, you know? We don't exactly... Know each other the best. You don't have to decide this instant."

"I am absolutely positive. I won't let you go through this alone. I'm as much responsible as you are, so we're in this together. Besides, this way you won't run off on me, again."

Silence enveloped you after he said that. He was right, you had to give him that. You sighed, giving him a shy smile afterwards.

"I guess you're right."

"How do we... How do we do this? Do we move in together? What should we do?"

You noticed how flustered he suddenly got, probably realizing what you'd have to figure out in the span of nine months.

"Relax, Seonghwa, it's still early to think about that. Besides, I have a room in my apartment that can be transformed into a nursery, and I really don't want to move right now. So, we'll go from there and, I don't know, see how things progress?"

You shrugged, while he only nodded along.

"Okay, fair enough. When's your next appointment? I assume you have weekly or monthly check ups?"

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"I want to. I think I made it clear by now that I really want to be a part of this. So, when is it?"

The way he looked at you suddenly made you blush, but you blamed the hormones for your reaction.

"Next Thursday."

"Great, I'll be there."

The two of you spent another half hour discussing your predicament before you started feeling too tired to speak. Seonghwa noticed your change in mood quickly.

"Want me to take you home?"

"I really want to be polite and decline but I'm too exhausted to do so."

Seonghwa chuckled, gesturing for you to go ahead. You exited the cafe and made your way towards his car. For some reason, he was staring at you intensely while you walked.

Once the two of you settled into his car, you turned towards him.

"Okay, spill. You're being really weird."

"Well..."

He sighed, glancing where your hands laid out on your stomach.

"I... I just can't believe I'm going to be a dad soon. I mean, I've always wanted a family, I just didn't think it would be so soon."

He noticed how you frowned and quickly corrected himself.

"Not that I mind! Don't get me wrong, please. I can't wait to meet our little blip, I just have a bad way with words. And... You make me kind of nervous."

Your eyes widened.

"Me? Make you nervous? Why is that?"

"Well..."

He kept silent after that, building up the courage to finally get his feelings off his chest. Almost a month has passed since your night together, and he tried pretending like it never happened for his own sake.

"Seonghwa? You're kind of leaving me hanging over here." You chuckled, lightly pushing his shoulder to make him snap out of his trance. He shook his head and started the car.

"Listen, I know this is not the moment, but we have to talk about that night. I need to know if... If you felt the same about it as I did."

His eyes were focused on the road, but you could tell it was easier for him not to look at you right now.

"And how would that be?" You asked, subconsciously putting your hands over your stomach.

"I... Something clicked, Y/N. Something in my mind, and my heart, telling me you're the one. Is that crazy? I know it probably sounds like it, but I just... I can't stop thinking about you, sugar."

"Is that why you're so calm about the baby?"

Seognhwa smiled lightly, glancing at how you cuddled into yourself.

"Maybe. I've always wanted to be a dad, and knowing you're going to be the mother of my child... I can't be mad about that. I can only feel... Excited."

"Oh, Seonghwa... We'll make this thing work, I promise." You reached over the console and placed your outstretched palm for him to grasp. He did so without thinking twice, happy to finally clear the air with you.

The rest of the ride went by smoothly, and you were in front of your building before you knew it.

"Here you go guys, you're home." Seonghwa said, looking at your belly before bringing his eyes to yours. You smiled, amused by the way he addressed both of you.

"Thank you, daddy."

His face made you burst out into laughter.

"Oh, lighten up! It's a sweet thing to say!"

Seonghwa shook his head, chuckling along with you.

"You're going to be the death of me. Go rest, our blip needs it."

"Seonghwa..." You said, cautious about the way you should approach him.

"Do you want to come with us? I mean, that's what blip's asking, you know."

He stayed silent for a moment, watching as a rosy hue printed your cheeks. Using your child was definitely a way of avoiding showing your true feelings for now, but he understood you needed more time to open up. However, he was not about to decline such a nice invite.

"You know what? Tell blip I'd love to hang out some more. But..." He stalled, looking into your eyes, the smile on his face mirroring yours. He leaned over, close to your ear. Your cheeks brushed against each other, his lips grazing your ear lightly.

"You can also tell our blip I'd like to spend some time with mommy as well."

Oh yes, this would truly be the most interesting and exciting experience of your life.

You could only be thankful someone like Seonghwa would be a part of it.

#ateez #ateez imagines #fluff #imagine #ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #mature language #mild smut #accidental pregnancy #minors dni #humor #ateez seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa

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